‘I trust Harriet’s room is to your liking, Lucy?’ asked Papa when we were seated and starting on the soup course.
‘It is very comfortable. Thank you, Uncle.’ I smiled at hearing her call him so.
Papa and Lucinda chatted away politely about various things, but I was hungry and concentrated my attention on the corned beef and vegetable broth, which was saltily delicious.
I had just finished my last mouthful when there was a bustle at the door, and Aunt Snelling appeared, beaming. ‘Felicity, welcome home!’
‘Aunt! How are you?’
I rose to greet her with a kiss and a hug, and she sank down next to me in a flurry of purple silk and patchouli. Aunt’s timing was impeccable—she always arrived after the soup, but before the main course, which Papa would urge her to partake in.
‘I’m very well. Thank you, my dear.’ Her sharp eyes landed on my empty soup plate and then upon Lucinda, who was still eating hers with dainty mouthfuls.
‘This is my niece, Lucinda, or Lucy, as she prefers,’ I said, nodding across to her. ‘She is accompanying me to Bath. It was a last-minute arrangement,’ I added when Aunt raised her eyebrows.
‘Nice to meet you Mrs ... uh ...’ said Lucinda, notknowing who she was.
‘Mrs Snelling. I live next door, but you can call me Aunt, if you like, as the girls do.’
She glanced at Papa, and a look passed between them that I could not fathom. Apart from nodding to her when she had come into the room, he had not spoken.
It was then that I noticed Mama’s portrait was not in its usual spot on the wall. First Papa growing a moustache, now Mama’s portrait being moved ... What was going on?
‘Where’s Mama?’ I asked, feeling a bit shocked.
Papa lowered his soup spoon. ‘She’s in the parlour,’ he said, not meeting my eyes.
‘Is she poorly?’ enquired Lucinda. ‘Is that why she does not join us for supper?’
There was an awkward silence. I didn’t speak about Mama around Max’s family, and as they had not attended our hastily arranged wedding, Lucinda was clueless about her.
‘My mother is ... not with us anymore,’ I said. ‘I was referring to her portrait, which has always hung in the dining room for as long as I can remember.’ I gave Papa an accusing look.
‘It wasn’t your father’s idea. It was mine,’ said Aunt. ‘So you can blame me. I suggested she might be more comfortable there,just for a change.’
‘Prudence,’ said Papa, shaking his head at her.
Another shock wave passed through me. He had never, in all the time I had known Aunt, called her by her first name.
‘I see,’ I said, wondering if Harriet knew about all these goings-on. If she did, she had not written to me about them. Then again, she was busy with Evie, who was starting to crawl.
Mary came to serve us our main course. So I was distracted by slices of glazed ham, asparagus swimming in lemon butter, and minted new potatoes and did not comment further.
Aunt seemed to detect I was thinking about Harriet in that intuitive way of hers, and she changed the subject neatly. ‘Felicity, did you know that Harriet and Evan are staying at Ashbury Manor next month?’
‘Yes, she did mention it, but I had not heard that things were confirmed. So they are definitely coming?’
Aunt nodded. ‘Yes, you could visit them when you return from Bath perhaps? You haven’t seen much of Evie, have you?’
It was true, but I wasn’t good with babies—even ones that were related. ‘I could, I suppose, though I do not want to be in the way.’Or have to change nappies or babysit...
‘Oh, they have a nanny now,’ said Auntapprovingly. ‘So you wouldn’t be.’
I ate the rest of my ham silently, trying not to feel irritated. Not only had I been coerced into chaperoning one niece, but now it was being suggested I spend time with another who was barely out of her cradle and did not care who I was.
Why did I have to? I supposed it was because I was a woman, and women were meant to have maternal instincts. But I did not, and that made me selfish and strange in society’s eyes.
I was still mulling over these thoughts when we turned in for the night. Mary had placed a bed warmer between my sheets some hours ago, and I stuck my cold feet on it to thaw them out. Max was my usual source of heat, but in his absence, I would have to make do with a copper pan.
