“They wanted to be here when you arrived,” Mary’s mother continued, “but I thought it might be a bit much after the long journey you’ve had, so I told them to let you get settled first and that we would see them soon.”
Mary took off her gloves and handed them to Faulkner so she could untie the ribbons of her bonnet. “Will tomorrow be possible?” she asked her mother. Her father, who’d entered the foyer behind them, closed the door, stepped around them, and gestured for Cassandra and Emily to follow him toward the back of the house.
“Yes. I believe so,” her mother said. She took Mary’s bonnet and set it on a nearby table. Linking her arm with Mary’s, she guided her in the direction everyone else had gone. “We will have them over for tea to start. I’ll send a note over straightaway, inviting them both.”
“Thank you, Mama,” Mary said. She placed her hand over her mother’s. “I’m sorry I never wrote to tell you where I was or how I was doing.”
Her mother’s lips quivered ever so slightly, and it took a bit longer than usual for her to respond. When she did, her voice was but a whisper. “We’re sorry too. Exceedingly so. Your father and I said some regrettable things and…to think we even considered sending you to Scotland weighs heavily on my conscience.”
“You did what you thought was best for the rest of the family,” Mary reminded her.
Her mother did not look convinced. “Camberly was furious with us when he came to explain everything. He could not fathom how we, your parents, had failed you when you needed us most. I’ve never felt smaller than I did while faced with his censure.”
“He chastised you and Papa?” Mary could scarcely believe it.
“Most effectively.” Mrs. Clemens turned to face her, revealing the deep ache of regret that dimmed her eyes. She squeezed Mary’s hand, and the lines of concern creasing her brow eased. “Thankfully, you are here now and that is what matters.” She found her vigor again and said, “There is so much for us to do, especially with the children. Do you think they’ll enjoy going ice skating on the Serpentine?”
Mary smiled with genuine feeling for the first time in weeks. “I know they would, Mama.”
“There is also the National Gallery and the Hunterian Museum,” her mother continued. “Oh, they will love the Irish Giant. He is quite a curiosity. And then of course there is…”
Mary failed to hear the rest of her mother’s ideas as they entered the sunroom. The children were busily devouring their creampuffs with unencumbered pleasure while grinning in response to her father’s account of some naughty deed he recalled from when he was their age. Heart swelling with joy, Mary went to join them. She selected a pastry for herself, and offered her cup to her mother, who filled it with steaming hot chocolate.
She was home again at long last, and it felt better than she would ever have imagined possible. If she did happen to come across Caleb during her visit to London, she would have to offer her thanks.
“Icannot believeyou have married Baron Huntingham,” Mary told her sister Sarah the next afternoon. After taking tea together, Mr. Clemens had suggested that everyone go for a walk in the park. The children raced ahead while Cassandra and Emily called for them to slow down and walk. Leaning close to her sister, Mary whispered, “You always told me you found him too arrogant.”
Sarah laughed and turned to glance at her husband, who walked a few paces behind them. He was keeping company with Lilly and her husband, Mr. Gilford, while Esther kept pace with Mr. and Mrs. Clemens.
“That was my initial opinion,” Sarah confided, “until we discovered our shared interest in minerals. He promptly invited me to see his collection, and we have been inseparable ever since.”
“So you have finally found someone with whom to talk about rocks,” Mary said. The ache she’d felt after Caleb’s departure from Clearview returned. How she missed discussing all manner of things with him. How she missed his smile.
“I suppose so,” Sarah said. “And Lilly has married the gentleman farmer she always hoped for, so she can now spend her days with as many sheep as she can count.”
Mary grinned. Lilly’s fondness for sheep had always been something of a curiosity. “From what I gather, Mr. Gilford is no ordinary farmer.” He was handsome as sin for one thing and for another, Mary had seen him watching his wife as if he wanted her for dessert.
“He has vast amounts of land and at least fifty farmhands to help take care of it all.” Sarah lowered her voice to scandalously add, “And Lilly tells me he is exceedingly virile and eager to keep her in the bedchamber.” A snort of repressed laughter followed. “It is my understanding she is very happy indeed.”
Sighing, Mary watched Cassandra and Emily catch up to Peter and Eliot who were both in the lead. Words were exchanged, which made Mary smile. She didn’t have to hear what was being said to know Cassandra was sternly insisting they not run off again.
“Does motherhood agree with you?” Mary asked her sister while she continued to watch the children she’d grown to love. Daphne and Bridget had somehow managed to climb onto a large decorative rock, while Penelope appeared to by trying to climb a tree.
“Of course,” Sarah said. “It is the best thing in the world.”
“I look forward to meeting your daughters one day.” Because of their very young ages, Sarah’s and Lilly’s children had remained at home with their nurses.
“And so you shall, but first I would like to hear about you and what you have experienced these past five years,” Sarah said.
“Yes, you must tell us everything,” Lilly said, catching up just in time to hear what Sarah had told her. “There must have been some admirers along the way. A gentleman farmer perhaps?”
Sarah snorted. “They’re not all as fit as yours, Lilly.”
Mary thought of Mr. Townsend. “Or as pleasant,” she remarked.
“Oh?” Both sisters asked with interest.
“I will admit there was one who was very persistent in his pursuit of me,” Mary said, “but his character was lacking, so I turned him down.”
