Edmund took the words from her mouth. "You look very well yourself, Mother." It came out glibly, polite and cold. No sign of the stammer, no sign of the old insecurity.
Ellen gasped. "Did you say mother?" She looked from one to the other.
His mother stepped forward.
She lifted her hands and pulled his face down towards her, studying it.
Her big brown eyes had become determined. "You are my son, after all," she murmured, planting a kiss on his forehead.
She hadn't done that in fifteen years.
The kiss burned on his forehead, and he became engulfed by her scent. Lavender filled his nose, and he closed his eyes for a moment. A familiar, welcoming smell, soft, powdery, the scent of the sunlight streaming over the meadow. The scent of his childhood. The scent of home. Something scratched at the back of his throat. He looked away and blinked.
Edmund raised a hand to his forehead and rubbed it. "Mother. I ... " he had no words. What did you say to your mother when you hadn't seen her for fifteen years? They were strangers now. Harsh words had been spoken the last time they'd been in the same room together. Words that had haunted him; that had robbed him of sleep. Until he decided to brush them off and become a new person with a new life.
He was an adult now, no longer a little stuttering boy. But being in the presence of his mother seemed to return him to that very state.
His mother let go of his face and took Ellen's hands in hers. "You must forgive my deception, but I was too overwhelmed to think when I met you yesterday. I am Lady Honoria Tewkbury." Her eyes twinkled as she said the words. "The Dowager Lady Tewkbury, I suppose, is what I must call myself now. For you have married my son, and the news has taken me rather by surprise. I saw the announcement in the paper this morning. I did not know you had married so recently, Edmund. My most heartfelt congratulations to you both."
Ah. So West must have finally sent in the announcement.
"Ah, yes, well. I say. So I got married," Edmund said redundantly. "This is Ellen, my wife. Ellen, my mother."
After Ellen had struggled to find her voice, she said, "I had no idea. How completely unexpected. But how happy I am to make your acquaintance, ma'am."
"Please. Call me Honoria. And I may call you Ellen, yes?" She still held her hands, but her eyes sought Edmund's.
Edmund looked down at his boots, shifting from one leg to the other.
"Are you coming home now?" she asked. "You don't have to stay. You could just come for tea. For half an hour ... " her voice trailed off.
Edmund continued to stare at his boots.
"Edmund?" That was Ellen. Both women were looking at him, and for the life of him, he could not look up and meet either of their eyes. Because what he wanted to do now was run, and run fast.
"Surely we could come for tea this afternoon?" Ellen nudged.
"It's been so long." His mother clasped her hands together in front of her.
She was inviting him to tea in his own house as if he were a stranger, as if the whole mansion and the land beneath it didn't belong to him. "And Edward is there too ... with his lovely wife. He got married too, on the same day as you. Can you believe it?"
An icy barb stabbed his chest. "Then the answer is no." He finally looked up. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mother, and I'm glad to see you well. But I'll not meet Edward. Or his wife." He gave her a curt nod and strode down the hill.
Away. Just away.
He walked so quickly, he almost ran.
Ellen rushed after him. "Edmund!" She grabbed his arm as she gasped for breath. "Slow down. I can't keep up with you."
He stumbled over a root and slowed his pace.
"Who is Edward?" Ellen asked.
He walked on in silence.
"Edmund?" She tugged at his arm.
She would not give up, would she? He felt anger flare at her, perhaps unwarranted.
