"You're leaving," Lady Fordshire said, without preamble. "In the middle of the Season. I had the news from Lady Thornton this morning, who had it from her daughter, who apparently heard it from one of your servants."
"Good morning to you too, Mama."
"Don't be glib. What's happening, Harriet? Is something wrong? Are you ill?"
"I'm not ill." Harriet gestured for her mother to sit. "I'm tired. There's a difference."
"Tired of what?"
"Of everything. Of London. Of balls and dinners and people who have opinions about my marriage." Harriet sat across from her mother, too weary to stand on ceremony. "Sebastian and I are going to the Lake District for a month. Possibly longer."
Lady Fordshire's expression shifted from concern to something more complicated. "I see."
"Do you?"
"I think so." Her mother was quiet for a moment. "Last night was difficult?"
"Last night was unbearable. But it wasn't just last night. It's been building for months." Harriet looked at her hands, unable to meet her mother's eyes. "Everyone has something to say. Everyone has advice.Rest more, worry less, try this physician, have you considered that perhaps you're too thin, too anxious,too something. And underneath it all is the assumption that I'm failing. That I'm not doing my duty as a wife."
"Harriet…"
"I know you don't mean to add to it, Mama. But even you…" Harriet's voice cracked.
"Even you look at me differently now. I can see the questions you don't ask. The worry you try to hide."
Lady Fordshire was silent for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was softer than Harriet expected.
"You're right. I have been worried. But not because I think you're failing." She leaned forward, reaching for Harriet's hands. "I worry because I see you suffering. I worry because I know how much this weighs on you. And yes, I've mentioned physicians and treatments, because I wanted to help. But I realise now that I was only adding to your burden."
Harriet blinked back tears. "Mama…"
"I am not disappointed in you. I could never be disappointed in you." Lady Fordshire's grip tightened. "You are my daughter. My brilliant, stubborn, extraordinary daughter. And whether you have children or not, you will always be enough. Do you understand me?"
The tears spilled over. Harriet couldn't stop them.
"I just wanted to give you grandchildren," she whispered. "I wanted to give Sebastian an heir. I wanted to do the one thing that everyone expects, the one thing that should be simple…"
"Nothing about life is simple, darling. And expectations are chains we wrap around ourselves." Lady Fordshire moved to sit beside her daughter, pulling her into an embrace. "I don't need grandchildren to be happy. I need you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted."
They held each other for a long moment, mother and daughter, while the morning light streamed through the windows and the sounds of packing continued in the distance.
"Go to the Lake District," Lady Fordshire said, finally pulling back. "Rest. Breathe. Remember what matters." She touched Harriet's face, her expression tender. "And stop trying so hard. Sometimes the things we want most only come when we stop chasing them."
Harriet nodded, unable to speak.
"I love you, darling."
"I love you too, Mama."
Lady Fordshire rose to leave, then paused at the door. "And Harriet? If anyone asks where you've gone, I shall tell them you're on an extended tour of the northern estates. Very dull. Nothing worth gossiping about."
"Thank you."
"That's what mothers are for."
***
The encounter with Lady Davies happened that afternoon, at Harriet's final call before their departure.
