And the one thing Graham had always been was protective. Of James, of Simon…even of her.
“If part of his leaving was to protect Simon and me, then we owe him a great deal,” she said softly.
“And one day I’m certain you will have a chance to make all this up to him,” the dowager said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But for now, I say we make this a glittering ball, a powerful display of our family unity and celebration of this union.”
Emma ran a hand across her chin, as if she were pondering the suggestion. “I thought small and demure, but you are likely right. A larger display will show our support and perhaps silence those who would find fault in this match.”
“A good party will silenceanyoneif done properly,” the dowager said.
Emma nodded. “I agree. But since this party is tomorrow night, that means I must rush off to speak to the servants now and adjust our plans. Will you two be…” She darted her gaze to Meg. “Will you be all right?”
“Of course,” the dowager said. “Meg and I have lived together for years, of course we can be alone together.”
Meg nodded to allow Emma to leave. She did so, but Meg could see she was uncertain. Truth be told, so was she as she turned toward her mother.
“Now that Emma is gone, do you have anything to say to me, Mother?”
The dowager flinched ever so slightly at the question, but she didn’t back away. “You think I was holding back my judgments of you until Emma left?”
Meg shrugged. “I suppose if you had judgments, Emma’s presence wouldn’t have prevented you from stating them. I only thought you might want to scold me since you didn’t get the chance to do so yesterday when this mess began.”
“Because I was drunk,” her mother said.
Meg’s mouth dropped open in shock. The dowager had never acknowledged that she drank, not in all the years Meg had been tasked with watching her, protecting her, keeping her from public view when she was at her worst.
“I-I—”
Her mother shook her head. “Don’t you ever wonderwhyI escape in a bottle, Margaret?”
Meg turned her face slightly. “I know why. You were very unhappy with Father.”
“Do you? Do you truly understand? Perhaps you do, considering this broken engagement and compromising position you found yourself in.” The dowager let out a pained sigh. “Your father had a family before ours. The family he truly wanted. When they were killed in that accident, he didn’t want to marry again or have new children.”
Meg pursed her lips. Although this was not a conversation she had ever had with her mother, over the years she had discussed it with James…with Simon…and she’dtriedto understand her father. Tried to feel for him and the grief he must have endured when he lost the family he’d chosen.
But that was hard when his cruelty toward her and her brother was so abject.
“He had his duty, though, didn’t he?” she said softly.
The dowager nodded. “Indeed, he did. And that duty was important to him. Our marriage was also arranged. My father’s fortune was good and his title was respected. It was a good match, at least on paper. The reality, as you know, was far different.”
“He hated us all,” Meg murmured. “I don’t think he spoke to me at all from the time I was seven or eight until the day he died. I was unimportant, not a boy, not a spare.”
Her mother shuddered. “He hardly spoke to me, either. He grunted over me, trying to produce a spare out of terror that his eldest son would die, but after you were born, we never conceived again. He hated me for it. He hated you for being a girl. He hated James for not being his late son.”
“Did you ever love him?” Meg asked softly, emboldened by this mother who was so open about the past.
She seemed to ponder the answer for a long moment.
“No,” she said at last. “In fact, I was…I was in love with someone else when the marriage was thrust upon me. I lost him and the future I had pictured. So I suppose there was enough resentment to go around between your father and me. The point is, Margaret, that marrying someone I did not love or even like only created misery for us all. It made me…this. It ultimately led me to fail you and James.”
Meg lifted a hand to her lips, for this additional acknowledgment of the dowager’s shortcomings was unexpected. “Mama,” she whispered, reverting to a less formal address than she usually used.
The dowager lifted her chin. “I know what I am, Margaret. And despite my flaws, I do…care for you. I don’t want to see you become what I am. I know you love your brother, I know he believes he’s doing what is right for you, but do not let anyone force you into what you don’t want.”
Meg bent her head. “The first engagement, to Graham…I didn’t want it. I was too young to argue and then the situation was so far gone I didn’t think I could. Perhaps in that scenario, I would have ended up…unhappy. But with Simon, it is different. I do want to marry him, Mother.”
Her mother smiled. It was such a rare expression, and for a moment Meg caught her breath, for she saw her brother in her mother’s face. She saw herself. She saw whatever could have been for a young woman before she was forced into a loveless, desperately unhappy marriage.
