The end of April was drawing near as well as the preparations for the journey to Austria, which had been holding the Duchess of Darnsworth’s entire household in a frenzy for nearly a month. On one of the more hectic days, the last few before they set off for Austria, the Viscountess of Langdon found it prudent to visit her daughter before she travelled to Scotland. The family was having tea in the drawing room when Benson announced the viscountess.
She entered with her usual air of arrogance and haughtiness. “Good afternoon.” She sat down with a ruffle of her skirts.
“Mother, to what circumstances do we owe your unexpected visit?” Eleanor asked stiffly, without being too unfriendly.
“I merely came to bid my goodbyes before I leave.” Eleanor’s mother sniffed. “I wasn’t aware that this would inconvenience you so much.”
“It does not.” Henry tried to sooth her ruffled feathers. “We’re leaving for the continent next Saturday. So, you might forward our letters to Vienna over the summer.”
“Vienna?” The viscountess was astonished. “What in God’s name are you going to do there?”
“My cousin Helen invited us to her daughter’s wedding. We turned down the invitation to her engagement last year, but we’re looking forward to attending the wedding.”
“How extraordinary common, to get married so soon,” the viscountess observed with an indignant tone. “Is there a reason for this haste? She is not by any means, you know—”
“Not that we are aware of, Mother,” Eleanor pressed through tight lips. “Neither is it any of our business.”
“How can you say that?” Her mother bristled. “It could reflect badly on the family if we were brought into connection with such a thing.”
“Do not worry, Mother! You won’t even be there. Nobody will think any less of you.”
“This cousin of yours, dear Henry, the mother of the bride, she doesn’t happen to be the sister of Martin’s late mother by any chance?”
“Indeed, she is,” Lord Edgewood said, surprised at the careful wording of the question.
“Hmm. That explains a lot. This woman has always been more than suspicious to me. It seems this trait runs in the family.”
Eleanor was having enough; she was furious at her mother’s implications and derogation of a woman who no longer could defend herself and had never been anything but gracious to the viscountess who never held anything but contempt for her. “Cathleen, her name was Cathleen, mother. All she ever did was treat you with the utmost respect and warmth, even when you were barely civil to her.”
“You always had a soft spot for her, Eleanor. You went so far as to let her son call you Mama. It is completely inappropriate, my dear.”
Eleanor swallowed her angry retort. To insult her mother and be uncivilized wouldn’t be right, but the time had definitely arrived to put a few things straight. The room was eerily quiet. Everybody seemed to have stopped breathing. Eleanor didn’t need to glance at her son to know how hurt he was. Martin was as dear to her heart as the children she had given birth to, so yes, she was proud to be called mama by this wonderful young man.
“Dear, would you like us to leave?” Henry asked tentatively.
“No. Please stay, all of you.” Eleanor gazed imploringly at each member of her family. “Maybe now is the time to speak a few truths.”
“Mama, you don’t have to do that.” Martin stepped to her side and took one of her hands in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. Eleanor smiled at the fine young man who was trying to spare her the humiliation of her own mother’s scorn and hatred. She cupped his smooth cheek with her other hand and gazed deeply into his green eyes, so very similar to Cathleen’s.
“But I do, darling,” Eleanor said softly. “It’s about time to finally voice the truth.”
“This is ridiculous.” The viscountess rose from her chair and snatched up the cane she didn’t need but believed was a necessary accessory for a woman her age. Slowly, she headed towards the door. “I said what I came here for. It’s time for me to leave. I will see you in September.”
“Is that what you have come for, mother? To insult my family and to leave before I say out loud what you’ve always known?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Eleanor let go of Martin and asked him to sit down again.
“You know quite well what I am talking about. Cathleen was my life, and I know full well how relieved you were when she died. She was the love of my life, Mother. That was who and what she was, not ‘that woman.’ Don’t look so shocked! You knew about us. You knew she wasn’t a mere companion or friend. We were lovers, in the truest sense of the word.”
Disgust in her expression, the viscountess whispered, “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? Would it be any less real if I didn’t?” Eleanor wiped away an errant tear.
“You sound as if you are proud. It is an abomination, a vile thing, unnatural and sick.”
“I do not expect you to understand. But let me remind you that your own mother, my grandmother, also spent her life with a female lover.”
“That Italian scoundrel? It was her fault my mother had such unnatural leanings. I should have known she wouldn’t shy away from corrupting you, too. She seduced my mother into this disgusting behaviour and obviously you as well.”
“She loves you like a daughter.” Eleanor voice was a plea for understanding. “The same way I love Martin like my son.”
“No,” the viscountess raised her voice, causing everybody to display surprise at the outburst. “She was the reason why my father left us.”
“The reason grandfather wasn’t there was because he had no self-esteem. Grandmother owned the title and the money. That was why he married her that is why people of our class always marry. His proliferations were cheap whiskey, cards, and women.”
“You do not know what you are talking about!”
“On the contrary, Mother. I know exactly what I’m talking about.” With passion, Eleanor said, “I was there, remember? When he was old and in need of care, he came back to Grandmother asking for help. She gave it without complaint. Grandmother cared for him until he died, and they had somehow reached an understanding, just as he had with Giulia.”
The viscountess stood stock still, leaning heavily on her cane. Face flushed, she was clearly furious, outraged at her daughter for saying such things. “It still doesn’t make your unnatural behaviour any more moral or rightful, does it?”
“And who are you to judge me?” Eleanor couldn’t resist, for her mother always thought she had the right to claim the moral high ground.
“Your mother. It is my right to ascertain that you as my daughter and duchess of the Empire refrain from immoral and scandalous behaviour. It is my duty as your mother that you behave fitting to your social standing as a noble and a woman.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes at her attempt at righteous consternation over her daughter’s supposed immorality and deviant life when in reality much more could be said about regarding her mother’s poor standing as a “noble” and as a “woman.”. But certain things were better kept buried for her own, as well as her family’s, peace of mind.
“All right, Mother. Whatever you say. We both know you never cared about me or my wellbeing as much as you cared about your reputation. Let us leave it at that.”
The viscountess stepped towards the door. She paused for a brief moment with her hand on the doorknob but didn’t look back
“I wish you well, Mother.”
And then she was gone, leaving Eleanor and her family with raised brows. As usual, her mother had swept out leaving nothing but silence and an empty doorway.
In the quiet of her room, Eleanor stood at the window observing the nannies taking a walk with young children. Another group of women were talking and laughing as they climbed out of a carriage and made their way to the entrance for the house next door.
She had finally told her mother the shocking truth about her relationship with Cathleen, and nothing earthshattering had ensued. Her mother’s disgust and self-righteous indignation was nothing she hadn’t expected. Now what little relationship they’d had was forever destroyed because Eleanor suspected her mother would not grace her home with her presence in the near future. Or the far future.
The viscountess had never set a foot in her mother’s house after she left it, not even for her mother’s funeral. Her actions had caused quite a stir, if not a scandal. When the daughter of the duchess refused to attend her mother’s funeral, everybody thought it was because she had been passed over from inheriting title and wealth. Eleanor knew the real reason, though, was because of the contessa. Her mother hated Giulia with a passion that was quite remarkable, even for the viscountess.
From her window she noticed her mother exit the house and climb into her carriage. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.
She closed her eyes and took the pendant on her necklace between her fingers, caressing it gently. The locket contained a picture of Cathleen, and the chain held the ring her lover had given her so many years ago. She hadn’t been able to take it off and had come to rely on it as a source of strength.
Eleanor moved away from the window to lie on the bed for a nap. The whole unpleasant discussion had exhausted her; she wanted to preserve her energy for their journey, which would be tiresome enough. As always, her last thought was of Cathleen . . . before she fell into a dreamless sleep.
In the drawing room, the family was still contemplating what had just taken place. The confrontation was a lot to take in and think about. Each and every one of them knew only a matter of time would pass before something like that would happen. They had been surprised that their wife, mother, and friend was so outspoken.
Up until now, Eleanor had always refrained from confronting her mother. But ever since she decided to accept the invitation to Vienna, something had changed. She was returning to her former formidable self.
That sudden revelation brought a smile to Henry’s face. It would indeed be wonderful to see his wife “alive” again, especially when meeting his cousin Helen who had always been so very different from Cathleen.
“Why are you smiling, Papa?” Philip asked, astounded.
“I feel so good to see your mother again becoming the woman she used to be.”
“But what about Grandmother?”
“Your grandmother will do nothing to destroy her own reputation; therefore, she will merely punish us with disregard.”
“I had no idea she hated Mummy so much.” Martin’s soft voice was sad and broken.
Henry put his hand on his son’s shoulder, forcing him to face him, “It is the other way around, son. She never truly loved anyone.”
“Father is right, Martin,” Charlotte chimed in. She took her brother’s hands and pulled him from the sofa, “Grandmother is the most unsatisfied woman on earth. She could never look past her own needs. She is unhappy and judgemental.”
“Right,” Henry agreed. “Now let’s get back to the tasks ahead. We have to make sure everything is ready before Saturday. Your nonna asked me to help her with the rest of her preparations. So, will you please excuse me? I will be back for dinner. And don’t tell your mother! It’s still a surprise!”