Her mother held her hand out. “Not at all,” she replied. “Sit with me for a moment and tell me about your wedding. Was it grand?”
Lord Kendal repositioned two chairs by the side of the bed and indicated that Octavia should sit down.
Octavia sat on the proffered chair and reached for her mother’s hand. She could hear in her mother’s voice how eager she was to know the details about a wedding that never happened. What could she say that would appease her mother, but didn’t reveal too much?
“The wedding was beautiful, but we missed you dearly,” she attempted.
Her mother turned her attention towards Lord Kendal. “Was my Octavia a lovely bride?”
Lord Kendal bobbed his head. “Octavia was the most beautiful of brides,” he replied.
The gentle way he said her name caused her heart to stir. It sounded so natural, so perfect, as if they always called each other by their given names.
“That makes me so happy to hear,” her mother said. “Did you have a portrait made for the occasion?”
“Not yet, but we will soon,” Octavia responded.
Her mother glanced between them with a line along her brow. “Why are you not on your wedding tour?” she asked. “Scotland is beautiful this time of year. Or so I have been told.”
“That is where you and Father went on your wedding tour,” Octavia reminded her. “You stayed at our family’s hunting lodge in Dumfries. In fact, Roswell is staying there now with his new wife, Anette.”
A smile came to her mother’s lips. “I just adore Anette. Does she still climb trees with Roswell?”
“I do believe that she outgrew that,” Octavia said.
Her mother closed her eyes for a moment before she addressed Lord Kendal. “Do you know Roswell?”
“I do, and he is a fine man,” Lord Kendal said.
A reflective look came into her mother’s eyes. “He fought in the war, you know.”
“No, Mother, that is Fredrick,” Octavia corrected gently. “He just returned from the Continent in time for Roswell’s wedding.”
“Roswell is married?” her mother asked, her voice rising in disbelief. “Who did he marry?”
“Anette Bolingbroke,” Octavia replied.
“Ah, yes, I do adore Anette,” her mother said. “She used to climb trees with Roswell. I could never get them to come inside. I wonder if she still climbs trees. Will you ask her?”
Octavia felt tears well up at the back of her eyes and she tried to will them away. Crying in front of her mother would do no good.
Lord Kendal stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving her the strength to continue on.
“You have a lovely bedchamber, my lady,” Lord Kendal remarked.
Her mother’s eyes roamed over the room. “It is far too dark in here, but the doctor believes that is for the best.”
“I would be happy to open the drapes for you,” Lord Kendal said.
“Would you?” her mother asked.
Lord Kendal removed his hand from Octavia’s shoulder and walked over to the window. He opened the drapes and the light flooded into the room. “That is much better,” he acknowledged.
Her mother’s face softened. “I always did prefer the light.”
A knock came at the door before it was opened, revealing Doctor Wallis. He gave a barely discernible frown at the window before he addressed her mother. “Lady Cuttyngham,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”
“I am well,” her mother responded. “Have you met my daughter, Lady Octavia, and her husband…” Her voice trailed off. “Dear heavens, I forgot his name. How embarrassing.”
