“She cannot be cooped up in a bedroom for that long.” Giving in to the inevitable, he set Yihui down in the nearest chair.
“I am trying to help you,” his mother huffed. “I’ve spent the last week thinking exactly how it should be handled. I have asked you to come speak with me, but you have refused. And now we are in a pickle.”
“Mother, I am managing things. The prince has demanded—”
“I know what Prinny said.” His mother peered through the curtains to see the great many people promenading out front. “Why didn’t you consult with me before you took her out in daylight? You know better than that.”
“And you know better than to lie to Prinny. He saw her yesterday, remember? He knows she is not—”
His mother rounded back on him. “And if her health takes a disastrousturn?”
A lie? “Prinny would see through that in a second.” Though, if enough time passed, the man might choose to ignore it. It was hard to say. Either way, Max much preferred to act rather than hide, and so he had taken Yihui out to face the world.
His mother obviously understood that. She pursed her lips with dismay. “Well, it’s done now. What did she say and to whom?”
Max smiled, his amusement getting the best of him. “She said ‘What ho’ to Lady Marsh. We all thought it very funny.”
If he thought to distract his mother with this anecdote, he was sorely mistaken. The lady looked like she would have an apoplexy on the spot. But since his mother often looked like that, he wasn’t concerned. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d been sent for her smelling salts only for her to recline dramatically on a settee for an hour with no visible injury.
This time was no different. She set her hand on the side table, leaning over as she gasped for breath. She could breathe just fine, but she enjoyed the drama of it. Even Emmaline gave no credence to the way Mama waved her hand in front of her face and glared at whomever was in the room.
“Mother—” he began, but Yihui interrupted him.
“Help me!” she cried as she tugged on her sleeve. “Get me to her!”
Oh dear. Clearly, Yihui did not understand about his mother’s preference for drama. “Please, don’t upset yourself. Mama’s spells—”
“Bring me to her!” the woman commanded.
He gave in. There was no need explain that Mama was exaggerating. She’d figure it out soon enough. So at her direction, he carried Yihui to the chair nearest his mother. Yihui immediately leaned over toward his mother.
“Please. Her…” She pointed to her wrist. “Give me her arm.” Then she looked at his mother. “Lady, please sit down.”
He groaned. His mother was very prickly when not addressed correctly. “Your Grace,” he said softly to Yihui. “She is properly addressed as ‘Your Grace.’”
Yihui nodded and then pointed to a chair. “Your Grace, please sit down!”
His mother’s face was already regaining color, her breath slowing though not yet returned to normal. He supposed she had decided she’d had enough attention.
“See? She is better,” he said as he helped guide his mother to the chair next to Yihui.
“Give me her arm!” Yihui commanded again and in a moment, he set his mother’s limp arm in her grasp.
“What are you doing?” his mother said weakly. She didn’t appear angry so much as curious. More attention, he supposed.
Yihui didn’t answer, but her expression was one of concentration as she apparently counted his mother’s heartbeat.
“I have seen this before,” she finally said.
“So have we,” he said. Then he tried to give his mother the benefit of the doubt. “She has spells. They never last long. She’s perfectly fine afterwards.”
Yihui shook her head. “Your Grace,” she said carefully, “I know a tea to make your heart better.”
Max all but rolled his eyes. His mother’s heart was fine. She’d been suffering from a lack of attention all her life, and this was her way of getting it. He must have made a sound or perhaps Yihui was merely observant, but she turned to him with a dark look.
“You think she lies.”
“They all do,” his mother cried.
