Jack was the MP for Kensington, though there was no limit to his political aspirations. I gave her an understanding smile. “I’d like that.”
Then I turned to my father, who had yet to speak or even look at me, and noticed the black, lacquered cane by his side. “Hello, Father.”
As I bent down to kiss his cheek, I could make out the deep grooves lining his forehead and bracketing his mouth. While my mother had been a great beauty, my father had a keen financial mind. I never knew exactly what he did, only that he made already wealthy people even more money. In my memories, he was a tall, imposing man who rarely smiled. And though I didn’t expect any of them to look the same, it was still a shock to see how frail he had grown during my absence.
His eyes finally met mine as I pulled back, but they remained strangely blank.
I cleared my throat, which had grown thick with emotion. “How are you?”
He blinked slowly, and a spark of recognition finally ignited in his gaze. “Minnie?” His voice was a paper-thin version of what it had once been.
I smiled, unable to contain the rush of joy that swept through me. “Yes, it’s me.”
Then he frowned. “What are you doing here?” He sounded much closer to his old self now, and thus this resembled more of a demand than a question.
“I—”
“You aren’t supposed tobehere,” he insisted, and I drew back, feeling rather hurt.
“Hush now, Bertie,” my mother cut in. “I told you Minerva was back from Corfu. You’ve just forgotten.”
But my father ignored her. Instead, he kept staring at me with a look of agitation until I had to turn away.
“Is he all right?” I asked my mother.
She balked, as if this was a ridiculous question. “Your father is fine. He’s just a bit forgetful these days. Perfectly normal at his age.”
I very much wanted to point out that this reaction seemed far more than abit forgetful, but my mother had never responded well to being challenged.
“Thomas, some of your cousins are upstairs in the nursery,” she continued. “Would you like to join them?”
Tommy nodded enthusiastically, and my mother tugged the bellpull by the hearth.
“I’m afraid my eldest boys are all away at school, but John is still at home,” Dolly said. “He’s five now. And there’s Franny, of course. She’s eight, just like you, Tommy.”
“A boy his age really should be at school, you know,” my mother cut in. “Perhaps Jack can get him in at Harrow. The term has already started, of course, but I’m sure he could easily catch up.” Then she addressed my son directly. “Isn’t that right? A bright boy like you?”
Tommy looked perplexed by the question.
“Mother …” I began. But then Morris entered the room and saved me from having to defend my educational choices to a woman who thought it completely normal to send her boys away to school at six.
“Madame, supper is served.”
“Excellent. And show Thomas to the nursery,” my mother said, with a wave of her hand.
Tommy shot me a nervous look, and I gave him a smile. “It’s all right,” I said softly. “I will see you afterwards.”
He nodded and walked over to Morris. “Follow me, Master Thomas,” the butler intoned, then turned on his heel and exited the room, with Tommy trailing behind.
As my mother helped my father to his feet, I approached Dolly. “How long has Father been … forgetful?” I asked under my breath.
“Hard to say,” Dolly said, as she frowned in recollection. “It’s been little things here and there over the years. I don’t think anyone really noticed the full extent until more recently.”
“I see.” I would need to harangue my brother about this whenever he deigned to meet with me. “And the cane?”
“Since the fall, certainly,” Dolly said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Whatfall?”
