What was far more difficult, what required actual effort and a deep emotional investment, was to scratch off the paint once it had dried. To peel back layer after layer to see what had caused it to darken and harden in the first place.
“I cannot imagine the losses you’ve endured. If it makesmyheart feel heavy just to think of them, I cannot imagine what it does to yours.” She considered telling her grandmother about the pictures she’d found, then decided against it. When an open wound was exposed maybe it was better not to poke and prod, but to let it close up and heal. “What I do know, however, is that more pain has never helped anything or anyone. I have seen my cousins. Multiple times. It was disobedient of me, but it wasn’t wrong. Because Evie and Joanna are family, Grandmother. They’reourfamily, and all you have left of your sister.”
“The dark-haired one looks like her.” Lady Ellinwood drew a deep, shuddering breath that crackled in her lungs. But she didn’t let go of her granddaughter’s hand. “She looks just like Mabel. When I first saw her at Hawkridge Manor I thought…I thought I was seeing a ghost.”
“That must have been unsettling.”
“It was.” She closed her eyes as a lone tear, the only one Rosemary had ever seen her shed, trickled down her papery thin cheek. “But you are right, my dear. They are our blood, our family, and all that remains of my Mabel. I couldn’t take it upon myself to make amends with her when she was alive, and I shall carry that regret to my grave. But perhaps…perhaps I need not make the same mistake with my grand-nieces.”
“Evie has invited me to have breakfast with her and Joanna and Lady Brynne tomorrow morning at the Staffordshire Hotel,” Rosemary revealed. “With your permission, I’d like to go. You could even join us, if you’d like. I hear their muffins are very good.”
“You may attend breakfast,” Lady Ellinwood said with a grand inclination of her head. “I will require another day or two to collect my thoughts. However, given that my grand-niecesareuncultured Americans, I am sure they would benefit from my wisdom and tutelage as soon as possible. You can tell them that they may call upon me later this week, and we shall begin their education on correct manners and proper etiquette.”
There was the grandmother Rosemary knew and loved.
Biting the inside of her cheek, she turned her head to hide her smile. “I’ll be sure to let them know.”
“Excellent.” Brushing aside her granddaughter’s hand, Lady Ellinwood reached for her cane. “If there is nothing else, I will retire upstairs. It has been a long day, and I am tired.”
It wasn’t yet noon, but Rosemary knew exactly what she meant.
“Thank you,” she said, kissing her grandmother’s cheek before she quit the room.
“For what?” Lady Ellinwood sniffed, any previous signs of vulnerability having vanished into a puff of proverbial smoke the instant she stood up. If not for the dampness Rosemary had felt against her lips when she pressed them to her grandmother’s skin, she might have been fooled into thinking she’d imagined their entire conversation. Such was Lady Ellinwood’s ability to cloak herself in armor. Armor that she’d needed throughout her life to protect her from any manner of ills.
“For always being there for me,” said Rosemary, “even though those you loved were not there for you.” A thought occurred. So clear and obvious, she wondered how she couldn’t have seen it earlier. “Is that why you’ve been less than enthusiastic about my engagement, even though you were the one who encouraged it in the first place? Just because Sterling and I are getting married does not mean I am going to leave you, Grandmother. Things will be different. I won’t live here anymore, it’s true. And I’ll have a husband. Maybe even children of my own, one day. But I will always love you. I will always be there for you. That is never going to change. Even if you wish to be, you’ll never get rid of me. No matter what the future brings.”
Lady Ellinwood was quiet for a long moment. Then she struck her cane on the floor with an authoritativetap, tap. “Be careful you do not have too many muffins tomorrow. You must be more cognizant of your waistline.” The rigid brackets surrounding her mouth softened imperceptibly. “You are a gracious child, Rosemary. Next to raising your father, watching you grow has been my greatest privilege.”
It wasn’t an outright admission of love. But it was the closest Lady Ellinwood had ever come to revealing that she cared. And sometimes…sometimes close enough was the best that you could hope for.
Chapter Nineteen
Once the privateLondon residence of the Duke of Staffordshire, whose descendants had subsequently squandered his fortune and sold off all the family property in an attempt to save themselves a one-way trip to debtor’s prison, the Staffordshire Hotel was a grand old dame with ivy crawling up the painted blue brick and window boxes overflowing with dahlias, pansies, and purple shoots of heather.
Rosemary’s shoes sank into lush carpeting as she entered the grand foyer. She gave her name to a host dressed head to toe in royal red, and was promptly taken past an open dining hall and out through a double set of glass doors to the outdoor tea room.
Half a dozen circular tables, covered in white satin cloths and sterling silver cutlery, surrounded a trickling stone fountain. Nearly every seat was taken by a variety of patrons, mostly female, but it didn’t take Rosemary more than a second to spy Joanna’s telltale red hair amidst the more subdued colors.
She hurried over and was immediately greeted with a flurry of hellos from her cousins and Lady Brynne Campbell, a tall, slender blonde whose natural beauty and reserved elegance Rosemary had always found a tad intimidating.
Fortunately, there was nothing the least bit daunting about the warm hug Brynne gave her, and before her first cup of tea had been poured, she was already completely at ease.
“…still cannot believe I missed the Royal Gala,” Evie complained after she’d made Rosemary recount exactly what Princess Alexandra had worn for the third time. “Weston never said a word about it. He claims to have forgotten, but I know better.”
“It’s a stuffy, prestigious affair,” said Brynne. “Everyone is on their best behavior, hoping to impress the royal family. Personally, I’ve always found it dull. I was glad to have been able to skip it this year.” Her lips quirked. “In twelve months, we may find ourselves similarly engaged.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve been before.” But Evie did look slightly appeased as she spread strawberry jam across one of the Staffordshire Hotel’s infamous muffins. “There is always the next one.”
“Won’t you be a tad busy?” Joanna asked with a purposeful glance at her sister’s stomach.
Evie smiled sweetly. “That’s what aunties are for.”
“Speaking of aunties,thisarrived today.” Procuring a rather battered-looking envelope stamped with a series of postmarks, Joanna laid it on the middle of the table. “It’s from–”
“Claire!” Evie cried as she snatched the envelope up and pried off the wax seal. Yanking out a letter comprising two pages, front and back, she read it quickly, her eyes lighting when she reached the end. “Oh my goodness.”
“What is it?” Joanna said, trying–and failing–to grab the letter from Evie’s grasp. “You do realize I could have opened it when it first arrived. I wanted us to read ittogether.”
