But she had twenty of those with Beth’s father.
“Did you—” Beth starts, before biting her lip and looking out at the boats.
“What?” Mother asks gently.
Beth hesitates. She doesn’t want to ask, but she wants to know. Has always wanted to know. “Did you marry Father just to escape this?”
She can’t look at her mother. Can’t stand to see the hurt she’s caused with her curiosity, but she needs to know. Her horrible, dismissive, cruel father. Was twenty years beneath his thumb worth it just to escape the uncertainty of the season?
Her mother’s hand curls over her elbow, gentle pressure. Beth sneaks a glance up at her and finds Mother watching her not with anger, but with understanding.
“I want to tell you it was love that forced my hand, but I can’t,” she admits, ghost regret on her face, but no pain. “I made a choice for security—so my parents wouldn’t worry about me—so I could provide for the children I desperately wanted,” she continues, reaching out with her free hand to brush a wayward hair from Beth’s forehead.
“But he was so—”
Mother nods. “But I got you,” she insists. “And this is not what I wanted for you. I want you to know that,” she adds seriously.
Beth nods quickly. She won’t complain about why they’re here today, just that here is . . . unpleasant.
“And I’m sorry this is how it is for you too,” Mother continues.
Beth breaks her gaze, turning back to the boats before sadness overtakes them too much. “Was any of it fun, at all?” she asks, going for wry and falling a bit flat.
But Mother rallies. “Some of it,” she says, nudging Beth as she narrows her eyes skeptically.
“Like what?”
“The boats. I had... a gentleman friend before I met your father, and he was a wondrous dancer,” Mother tells her.
“But only a friend?” Beth wonders.
She’s often thought that there was no way her mother didn’t have other suitors in her season. With her beauty, wit, and charm, she must have been the belle of every ball she entered. Beth is a pale imitation of how lively her mother was when she was younger. In truth, she’s still a pale imitation of her now.
“He wasn’t in line to inherit and didn’t have the security of a title that Father wanted for my future,” Mother says, staring off at the boats herself. “But we had fun for a while.”
Beth watches the happy couple in the nearest boat, the girl bright and flushed, the boy beaming and bashful. She can’t remember her mother ever looking at her father that way. Can’t remember her father ever looking anything other than indifferent.
Did Mother blush like that when her first beau looked her way? Was she ever so happy and carefree? Was she ever in love, even once?
“My hope for you is that you meet someone who makes you laugh, and makes the endless formalities feel a little fun and silly,” Mother says, turning her gaze back to Beth. “You’ve every chance of it this season, and I know it’s onerous, but if you open yourself up to it, I’m sure you’ll find a wonderful man.”
Beth forces herself to nod, to appear as if she believes Mother’s words. But if her mother, with all her various assets, couldn’t fall in love with the right man, what chance does Beth have? The only company she’s enjoyed so far is Gwen’s.
“Shall we walk back toward home?” Mother asks, her false smile firmly back in place, all memory and melancholy locked away.
“Yes,” Beth agrees, allowing her to lead them from the bank and back onto the walking path. “And you promise, no events tonight?”
“None,” Mother assures her. “I thought we might play some duets after dinner?”
Beth smiles and leans into her. “I’d like that.”
They walk on for a few minutes, and Beth manages to ignore the appraising looks from the men and mothers around them, bolstered by her mother’s return, however brief, to normality. She’s missed her, wild as it seems, when they’ve done nothing but spend time together for the past week. But she hasn’t beenMother.
There’s more than enough pretending outside of their house. They shouldn’t have to keep pretenses up when it’s just the two of them.
Beth’s about to push her luck and ask if maybe they could play chess after duets when something thumps hard into her back. She stumbles, letting out a surprised yelp. Mother clutches at her to keep her from falling. They turn together to spot a rugby ball on the ground and a young man hurtling toward them, already shouting apologies.
Beth tries to reach around to rub at her back. Whoever threw that thing has quite the arm.
