“Is this why you wished to see me? You want to know your granddaughter?”
“I had hoped…” A tear formed in the corner of Lady Bradford’s eye. “Philip is gone forever. And Penelope is determined never to marry. Your children are the only grandchildren we will ever know.”
“We will raise them as we see fit,” Lewis said firmly.
His mother stiffened. “That much, you have made clear.” She said nothing more, though Jilly imagined she resisted the saying of many things.
“If you will love Nicola,” said Jillian, the warmth of her voice promising that her words were intended with kindness, “and enjoy your time with her instead of trying to shape her to your views of the world, then I would be happy for you to visit here. Lord Bradford too.”
“He will come around, you know,” said Lady Bradford, her attention diverted once more to the cherublike cheeks of baby Nicola. “Especially because you have been gracious to me.”
Jillian watched Lewis sag deeper into his chair, as if he had just released a heavy weight he had carried for too long. She had not fully understood how much he had wanted this. He had always rebelled against the neglect he had experienced and had sought happiness along a completely different path than the one his parents had trodden. But even now, aged thirty-one and afather himself, he was still a boy who wanted his mother and father to care.
“We will be patient,” Jilly reassured Lady Bradford, but her eyes were upon Lewis, the man who had chosen her above his own family. How deeply he loved her! It was heartbreaking that he had ever had to choose at all.
“Perhaps, if we are truly to be family, you can forgive your son for wanting this.” Jillian indicated herself, their home. “And love not only his daughter, but Lewis, too? He was once a babe in your arms, just like this little life you hold. And he still craves your affection. I ask, not for myself, but for him, your flesh and blood.”
Lady Bradford stared at Jillian, her jaw slack, a crease deepening between her eyes. “We have always loved him!”
“Then,” replied Jillian, “I urge you to find a way for him to know it. A gentle word. A conversation without reprimand. Tell him you are proud of him. Spend time with him for its own sake—no lesson to be learned.”
“I… This is not… We don’t…” Lady Bradford halted in her flustered speech. She took a deep breath. It shook a little as she exhaled it. “I will try. We will try.”
Jillian resisted the instinctive urge to throw her arms around her mother-in-law and squeeze her with all her might. Such an embrace would create more alarm than pleasure. Instead, Jilly reached down and placed a light kiss upon the woman’s brow. “Thank you,” was all she said.
Then she fetched Lewis by the hand and led him across the thick rug, pressing his shoulders down firmly so that he was obliged to sit next to his mother on the settee, sharing a space more closely than they had done for the better part of thirty years.
“There!” said Jillian, stepping back to take in her handiwork with satisfaction. “Now the two of you can coo over our daughtertogether. I will go fetch us some tea.” She laughed as Lady Bradford raised a quizzical eyebrow yet wisely said nothing. “It is the housekeeper’s day off,” she explained. “Besides, I make a very good cup of tea. I have acquired a fine blend that Mrs. Trenton likes to make. So, you see, you and I are learning new things together.”
Lady Bradford nodded. “So we are.” She reached a tentative hand and patted her son on the knee. “So we are.”
Baby Nicola gurgled at her grandmother and wrapped her tiny hand about the lady’s finger. In the doorway, Jilly paused to drink in the scene of delicate domestic bliss.One day, she thought,those little hands will plait a daisy crown for her grandmother. And it will be the proudest jewel the white-haired matriarch has ever worn.
Then she skipped down the stairs of her home to make tea, humming a tune as her shoes thumped a merry beat all the way to the kitchen.
