Laura sighed wearily. “I don’t think so, Mother.”
“It won’t happen if you and Lanyon spend too much time apart.”
“Now is not the time for such talk. Laura is tired after her long journey,” her father said sharply, pushing away from his desk. He stood. “Come, let’s enjoy a drink before dinner.”
It was strange being back in her old home. Laura glanced around the moderately sized drawing room, so different to Wolfram with its rambling corridors, enormous high-ceilinged rooms and wonderful library. There was a certain freedom from convention there, while at the same time, a strong sense of itshistory.
Later that evening, Laura sat in front of the dressing table mirror in the bedroom where she’d dreamed of a future here in London, before Nathaniel came to change it. Unsettled, she removed the pins from her hair. She ran her fingers through her long locks and picked up her brush. The girl she’d been when she left to be married seemed to have vanished. Laura considered herself her own woman now, and this was no longer her home. The rush of homesickness she suffered was for Nathaniel andWolfram.
Her mother appeared while Agnes tidied away Laura’s clothes. “You may leave us.”
After Agnes bobbed a curtsey and left the room, her mother sat on the cream damask chair, her frown reflected in the mirror. “Why are you here?”
“Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“That’s hardly the point, is it?”
“It’s been some time since I saw you and Father. Do I need a better reason?”
“A woman doesn’t leave her husband’s side but for averygood reason.”
Laura turned on the stool. “Mother, did you and Father always have separate bedrooms?”
Her mother pursed her lips. “So, that’s it.”
“I’m sorry. That’s what?”
“Trouble in the bedroom.”
Laura flushed. “Most definitely not.”
Her mother’s eyebrows arched. “No? Then whathasbrought you here?”
Laura looked down at the brush in her hands. “Something bad happened at Wolfram. A man was killed. Nathaniel wanted me somewhere safe until the police find the culprit.”
“That’s the extent of it? I’m relieved it has nothing to do with you and Lanyon.”
How like her mother to make light of it. Laura was tempted to say more, but she was tootired.
Her mother rose. “I’m relieved. I pray every Sunday on my knees that you’ll have a good marriage. As successful as your father’s and mine has been.” She came to kiss Laura’s cheek. “Good night, my dear.”
Laura watched the door close behind her. Her words seemed heartfelt. Perhaps her mother did care more for her than she’d realized. Did her parents have a good marriage? If you scratched beneath the surface, would you find love and fulfillment? Or the lukewarm acceptance and cool compromise she’d often witnessed? Determined her marriage to Nathaniel would be as perfect as she could make it, she rose and went to the bathroom, enjoying a luxury she was determined to introduce to Wolfram withoutdelay.
When Agnes developed a cold, Laura left the maid in Richmond and traveled to the city straight after breakfast. The dew still glistened on the grass when Laura pushed the gate open into the little front garden. Aunt Dora rushed out to hug her with a cry of delight, drawing her inside.
Some new possessions added to the clutter, pen and ink drawings, painted fans, embroidered cushions and poetry books. Laura spied fresh pages of verse on her desk, written in Dora’s spideryhand.
“You’re in luck, darling girl. I’ve finished my latest batch of poems. I’m sending it off to my publisher.”
Dora held Laura’s face in her ink-stained fingers and studied her. “You look peaky.”
Laura hugged the soft little body in its drab cotton dress. “I’ve missed you.”
Dora’s large eyes widened. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it, Laura?”
Tears pricked Laura’s eyes and she blinked them away. She hadn’t planned to bring her tales of woe to her aunt, but she was tired, and that weakened her resolve. She straightened her shoulders. She would try not to indulge herself and worry her aunt. “We can talk later. I’m here to invite you to Hertfordshire.”
“What’s there to interest you?”
