Sure enough, Maggie added, “Let me see your ring.”
*
A week anda half later, they were on horseback going to see Mrs. O’Connor. During that time, Eleanor had finished her letters to her mother, to her oldest sister, Jenny, and to Beryl with the added surprising news of her engagement. Since they were not members of nobility, and since no one gave a fig, they decided on a short engagement of two months so they could get to the wedded bliss—and the marriage bed—as quickly as possible.
She’d also presented Grayson with her drawing of Percy, for which he vowed to build a frame and hang in their home as soon as she moved in. And she’d had the chance to sit with him under the stars on his captain’s walk.
That evening, it seemed her life was unfolding before her, just like the night sky twinkling above, endless and filled with wonder.
Yet, Eleanor couldn’t shake the pangs of anxiety when she thought of the upcoming visit to Angsley Hall. They would visit with his mother first, and then go see Lord and Lady Angsley.
After putting their horses in the stable, they walked hand-in-hand toward the old granary lodge. Mrs. O’Connor spied them immediately as she was outside hanging her washing on a clothesline stretched between two straight birch trees. She hugged each of them in turn, and then Grayson told her their news.
After his mother exclaimed with joy, Eleanor showed her the ring, and then they had to have another round of hugging.
“Come in for tea,” Mrs. O’Connor invited. “I’m so excited to be having a daughter at last.”
It seemed to Eleanor as though no time had passed since she had first been yanked into Mrs. O’Connor’s home, mistaken for Phoebe. On the other hand, she felt years older. And there was now a special bond between her and this woman whose son she loved beyond anything.
Unfortunately, the knot of unease wouldn’t release, not while Eleanor knew there was a huge secret between mother and son.
Casually, as the tea steeped in the blue pot covered in a knitted tea cozy to keep it hot, Grayson said, “Eleanor told me she taught you to read.”
Mrs. O’Connor’s gaze flew to hers, and she smiled reassuringly at the older woman.
“I didn’t want any secrets between Grayson and me, and I needed him to know why I’d stayed behind.”
His mother nodded, realizing Eleanor had said nothing more.
“What are you planning to write?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.
His mother hesitated, and Eleanor held her breath.
“A letter,” Mrs. O’Connor said finally.
“To whom?” he asked, and Eleanor wished he would leave his mother alone.
Mrs. O’Connor turned to face her son fully. “I plan to write a letter to someone I love with all my heart. I told your wonderful young lady how it would mean the world to me if I could do so.”
He stared at his mother. Eleanor could see he was thinking. If she were in his shoes, she might first wonder if his mother wanted to write to an old flame. But then, knowing how Mrs. O’Connor doted on him, he should realize the letter was to him.
After a pause, he said, “Eleanor and I would be pleased if you would come live with us. There is plenty of room. And when we have children, it would be…,” he trailed off, for Mrs. O’Connor was already shaking her head.
“I cannot. I can never live at Turvey House or on its property.”
Another pause. Eleanor wished she understood. She and Grayson had discussed it and hoped the lure of grandchildren would bring his mother away from the granary lodge.
“Are you in love with Mr. Stanley?” Grayson asked.
Eleanor gasped right along with Mrs. O’Connor.
The woman’s hand flew first to her throat and then to cover her mouth. She shook her head as if to say no, but when her words came out, they were in the affirmative.
“I am. He is a sweet and caring man.”
Grayson covered his mother’s hand. “I’m happy for you. Truly.”
Eleanor assumed their love was not new, but it was neither her nor Grayson’s place to probe further.
