“A waste?” Camelia gasped, her eyes widening in exaggerated shock. “Nonsense! You’ll show me those sketches, Pamela, and we’ll fill a whole book with them. What do you love to draw most?”
“The willows,” Pamela answered, her voice gaining strength. “They’re… peaceful. Like they’re whispering secrets.”
Camelia leaned closer, her tone conspiratorial. “Then we’ll sketch willows together, just you and me. And if the Duke complains, I’ll tell him to take his schedules and brooding elsewhere. Deal?”
Pamela’s smile widened, tentative but real. “Deal, Your Grace.”
Her enthusiasm reminded her of Margaret.
Camelia’s thoughts drifted to her sisters, and she wondered what they were doing at that very moment. If life at Lempster Estate was still the same or quieter now that she had left.
“Did you really sneak into the kitchen to bake with them?” Pamela asked curiously, working the flour and butter together with visible effort. “I cannot imagine how you find this enjoyable—my arms are already aching.”
Camelia let out a bark of laughter. “Yes, we really did bake! The results were almost always inedible, rock-like scones, but we ended the day laughing until our sides ached.”
“You never had any rules?” Pamela asked curiously.
“Well, Mother did tell us not to enter the kitchen. She would scold us when we were caught by the cook, but her eyes would dance with love. That’s what I want for you, Pamela, even if it means breaking a little rule.”
“What was it like… with your mother?” Her eyes searched Camelia’s, a flicker of longing breaking through her reserve.
Camelia’s throat constricted, her voice softening with raw emotion. “It was a mix of chaos and love, Pamela. Iris would measure every grain like a general, while Margaret would steal bits of dough, giggling like a sprite. Once, we tried baking a cake for Mother’s birthday, and it collapsed into a sugary ruin, but we laughed until tears streamed down our faces. And after scolding us, Mother pulled us into her arms, flour and all. I can still feel her warmth.” Her voice cracked, tears pricking her eyes.
I miss her so fiercely.
Pamela’s hands stilled, her face crumpling as she gripped the table’s edge. Camelia dropped her bowl on the table and rushed to her side.
“Oh, Pamela! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
“It isn’t fair,” Pamela whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Camelia drew her into a tender embrace, her arms wrapping around the girl with a fierce protectiveness. A wave of relief washed over her as Pamela briefly leaned into the comfort, her trembling form relaxing.
She’s letting me in, even if just a little.
But the moment was shattered too soon. Pamela stiffened, then gently but firmly pulled away, her hands swiping at her tears with an almost angry vigor, as if banishing her vulnerability.
“You had your mother, and youknewher. But I… I have nothing!” Her voice broke as a soft sob escaped. “I don’t even know my mother’s name! I’ve never heard her voice, never felt her arms. I’m empty, Your Grace. Utterly empty!”
Camelia’s heart shattered, but she stood firm, her eyes glistening with empathy.
Why did I believe that I could ease her pain?
After losing her own mother, she should’ve known better.
She placed a hand on Pamela’s small shoulder, her voice quivered with conviction. “Pamela, I’m so sorry for what you’ve lost. But you’re not empty. You have your father, who guards you like a treasure and who loves you with every fierce beat of his heart. You’re not alone, and you’ll never be alone.”
Pamela’s tears fell harder, her breathing ragged. “He’snotmy father!” she cried. “I feel it, Your Grace, in every cold glance and every rule he sets. He’s distant, like I’m a duty to him and not his daughter.”
“That is not true at all, Pamela. He set all these rules to protect you. Because he loves you. Even if it’s in an odd way, he truly loves you.”
“You don’t understand, Your Grace. I don’t belong here,” Pamela sobbed.
Camelia’s eyes burned with tears when she felt Pamela’s trembling shoulders beneath her touch. “Oh, Pamela, that is not true, and youdobelong here. The Duke’s love is there; I see it in how he watches over you and how he fights and prepares for your future. It’s not out of coldness or duty; he fears failing you. Please, let me help you see that.”
Pamela shook her head, her sobs choking her words. “You don’t understand! I’ll never have what you had: siblings, a mother, and a loving father.”
Camelia’s heart shattered for her.
