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L
ynette’s heartbeat raced, for Stephen was coming toward her with a wicked twinkle in his eye. When he’d danced with his sister and then subsequently with his niece, a part of her heart was lost to him, for he’d treated them with gallant respect and affection. Beyond that, he hadn’t danced with anyone else in the room, even though there were a bevy of young, unattached women in attendance.
Did that mean he truly wished to make another go at a relationship between him and her?
At her side, John tugged on her hand. “Mama, you should dance with Lord Tilbury.”
“Oh? Why is that?” She spared her son a glance but soon Stephen would be upon them.
Serious honesty shone in his eyes. He looked like a little man in his dark suit and dress shoes... the very image of her husband. “I think he means to court you.” One of his brown eyebrows rose. “And it might be jolly fun to let him do so.”
For the space of a heartbeat, her breath froze in her lungs. “Why? Did someone from the Ivy family tell you that?”
“No, but I heard one of the footmen say he meant to court one of the kitchen maids the other day, and he had the same twinkle in his eye that Lord Tilbury has now.” John peered at Stephen, who was nearly upon them. Then he met her gaze once more. “It’s all right if he does, isn’t Mama? Papa wouldn’t mind, as long as he makes you happy.”
Flutters took hold of her heart. How was it possible her son could see things that even a grown person couldn’t at times? She brushed his hair into some semblance of a style with her fingers while blinking away quick tears. “I suppose you might be on to something.”
“Then you’ll let him?” Excitement threaded through his voice.
“I’ll entertain the idea of it. Will that satisfy you?”
“Ever so much.” Then there was no more time for conversation; Stephen had joined them.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hodgins.” He took her gloved hand, brought it to his lips and then kissed the middle knuckle. “You are a vision tonight.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t quell the excited thump of her pulse. Her son had more or less given his permission for her to let Stephen pay his addresses. All she needed to do was find the courage to utter those simple words. “You’re quite handsome yourself this evening.”
And so he was. The requisite dark evening clothes fit his form with elegance and care, which spoke to the skill of his tailor. The crimson waistcoat embroidered with golden thread into a plaid design called attention to his flat stomach, but it was the tiny ruby stickpin in the snowy folds of his cravat that sent tingles of awareness down her spine. She’d given that pin to him as a gift ten years before—a wedding gift as it were, a week before their nuptial ceremony was to have taken place.
He’d kept it all along.
When she would have mentioned it, his attention was on John. He extended a gloved hand to the child. “Good evening, Master Hodgins. I trust you’re well?”
“Oh, quite,” her son responded, his face wreathed in a grin that sent heat into her cheeks as he shook the offered hand. “Are you here to dance with my mother?”
“I am if you’ll grant me permission.” A trace of vulnerability scudded across Stephen’s face, and she lost another piece of her heart to him. No doubt he worried over her reception, even after they’d shared two kisses, and one of which was hardly chaste.
“I will indeed.” He threw a speaking glance to her. “My mother likes to dance, and if you’ll do it, perhaps she’ll stop badgering me about having a go ‘round the parlor all the time.” Nothing but seriousness reflected in his eyes.
Both Stephen and she shared a laugh. Then he sobered. “I’d be delighted.” He rested his chocolate-hued gaze on her face, meeting her eyes. A question lurked deep in those rich depths that stole away her ability to breathe. Would he ask it tonight? And if he did, how would she respond? As the orchestra struck up the notes of a country reel, he extended his hand to her. “Mrs. Hodgins, would you do me the honor of dancing the next set with me?”
“Of course I will.” She slipped her fingers into his palm, and he immediately closed his hand around hers. Heat skipped up her arm from the point of contact.
“That’s the spirit, Mama,” John said as Stephen led her out onto the already crowded floor.
Both she and Stephen laughed, for John had a way of putting things into the simplest perspective. Had she let fear hold her back all this time? As the simple country reel began and the steps carried her away from Stephen, she had ample time to think. She certainly had ten years ago when she’d broken their engagement, and when she’d not allowed an explanation, she’d further put distance between them.
But now?
When the steps brought her back into Stephen’s vicinity and he grinned, the gesture crinkling the corners of his eyes, her heartbeat bounced into double time. It was time to break free from those rusty fetters and once more let love sweep her away. He had changed over the years, and perhaps so had she. Was she brave enough to start over, confident enough to chase a second chance at love?
By the end of the dance, her smile felt genuine as she came back together with Stephen again. Though slightly winded from the exercise, she held onto his hand a touch tighter than necessary, squeezing his fingers in a silent message she hoped he understood. He glanced from their joined hands to her eyes and one of his dark eyebrows rose. She nodded. Warm happiness bubbled into her chest while excitement buzzed at the base of her spine.
Yes, she wanted the opportunity to move forward—with him.
A panicked cry rang out through the ballroom, followed by a wave of murmured alarm. Guests clustered about in a tight knot at the far side of the room near the terrace doors.
“We need assistance here!” someone called.
The tenuous moment of understanding between her and Stephen shattered. She craned her neck to see what had happened, but she was too short. “What’s wrong?”
Worry seeped into his expression. “I believe your mother has collapsed.”
“What?” Lynette’s heart sank into the toes of her slippers. “I must go.”
“I’ll find Miss Ridley. She’s Papa’s nurse and will know what to do.”
“Thank you.” Releasing his hand, she shot across the room, impolitely nudging people out of the way. Finally, the crowd parted enough for her to see the crumpled form of her mother on the floor, the black fabric of her gown making her seem much like a fallen crow. With a cry, Lynette rushed to her mother’s side. “What happened?” she asked one of the people already kneeling.
The man shook his head. “I didn’t see. One minute she was sitting on her chair. The next, she’d tumbled to the floor.”
She kneeled near her mother’s head and took one of her limp hands. “Mama, can you hear me?” But her mother’s eyes remained closed. A quick pat to her cold cheek didn’t bring about promising results either. Then Stephen joined her, and she uttered a half-sob half-sigh of gratitude. “I can’t revive her,” she told him, her heart in her throat.
Stephen didn’t waste time. “Let’s move her to a divan in one of the ladies retiring rooms and away from the crowds.” He bent and bundled her mother’s form into his arms, hefting her up. “Miss Ridley will join us there after she collects her medical bag from upstairs.”
“Oh, I hope there’s nothing seriously wrong with my mother,” Lynette whispered as she followed Stephen’s tall form through the crowd. In a thrice they exited the ballroom, went partially down a corridor and then into a smaller room decorated in soothing shades of mauve. No one occupied the room, so Stephen went directly to one of the sofas and laid her mother upon that piece of furniture. The dusky pink velvet proved a startling contrast to her mother’s black skirts. “Is she breathing?”
Stephen put his ear to her mother’s mouth. “Yes, as far as I can tell.”
“Let me examine her.”
Lynette glanced up as Miss Ridley came into the room, a worn brown leather bag in hand. Lord Hollingsworth followed on her heels, as did the Duchess of Whittington with identical expressions of concern. “Where is John?” She didn’t want her son to witness this scene in the event something horrible occurred.
The duchess put a hand on her shoulder. “My husband is keeping him occupied by plying him with sweets from the refreshment table.”
“I’m so glad.”
“Let’s see what we’re working with,” Miss Ridley murmured. She kneeled on the plush Aubusson carpeting and took one of Lynette’s mother’s hands in her own. Two fingers were pressed to the pulse point at her wrist. “Her heartbeat is strong.” Then she put an ear to the fallen woman’s chest. “Her breathing is regular, and the lungs are clear.”
Lynette rose to her feet. “Then why did she faint?”
“I’m not certain, but I think we should ask her.” Miss Ridley pulled a small glass vial from her bag and removed a cork. “These are smelling salts. They should bring her out of the faint rather quickly.”
As soon as the vapors trapped in the vial assailed her mother’s nose, she awakened, shaking her head and pushing away Miss Ridley’s hand.
“That’ll be enough of that, young woman.” Obviously, the health scare hadn’t curbed her acerbic attitude.
Lynette wilted where she stood, grateful for the support when Stephen slid an arm around her shoulders. “What happened, Mama?”
“I went down like a sack of oats.” She touched a hand to her chest. “My heart’s not as strong as it once was.”
Miss Ridley’s expression portrayed doubt as she put away the vial of smelling salts. Then she peered at Lynette’s mother with a grim set to her lips. “I don’t doubt that your collapse was real, Lady Ruddick. However, as to any legitimacy of illness, there is no evidence. Perhaps you had need of attention.” A certain amount of coolness hung from the words.
“What does this mean?” Lynette asked, darting her gaze between the women.
“Don’t you patronize me.” Her mother rose onto an elbow and glared. “If I tell you my heart is about to attack me, that’s so.”
Miss Ridley first met Lord Hollingsworth’s gaze with a telling glance then moved to catch Stephen’s eye. “I beg to differ, and I’m quite skilled in figuring out if someone’s heart is weak or it isn’t.” Slowly, she stood, returning her regard to Lynette’s mother. “In fact, I’m treating the duke for the same. So believe me when I say you are fibbing, Lady Ruddick.”
How could that be? Lynette perched on the side of the sofa. “Mama, is that true? Were you pretending to collapse?”
For long seconds silence brewed in the room. Continued gaiety from the party drifted from what seemed a long distance in direct contrast.
“All right, yes. It’s true. My faint was false.” Her mother’s cheeks took on a mottled red hue.
“Whyever would you do something like this?” Confusion pulsed through Lynette’s veins.
“I don’t want you to leave me.”
“Of course I won’t. So why did you feel the need to cause such a scene?”
Never one to fade from the center of attention, her mother’s next words brought heat to Lynette’s cheeks. “You’re letting Lord Tilbury chase you again. I saw the way you looked at him on the dance floor.” She shook her head. “You know what happened the last time.”
Despite their audience, Lynette huffed out a breath of frustration. How embarrassing. “Last time it was my fault. Things are different now.” Lord, she hoped that were true, but she felt it in her soul that Stephen was a good man, and she was ready for all that a life with him might entail.
“Ha!” Her mother waved a bony finger in censure. “I don’t trust that man; he’s quite the rogue. And with you a widow and my... precarious financial situation, we don’t need another problem on our hands as you’d have if you gave him another chance.”
Stephen scoffed. “Lady Ruddick, if you’ll but listen to what I have to say,” he began, annoyance heavy in his voice.
Oh, this would turn into an argument and quickly if she didn’t do something. Lynette turned to him. “Please, let me talk to her alone.” She glanced at the remainder of the party. “I appreciate the support, but this is something I need to do by myself.”
The duchess nodded. She linked her arm through Stephen’s while he uttered a short protest. “As you wish, dear. Call for one of us if you need assistance.”
“I will.” Lynette watched the four of them exit the room, before releasing the sigh building in her throat. She rested her gaze on her mother. “Mama, what happens between Lord Tilbury and me is private, but please don’t think I’ll abandon you. Why would you even say such a thing?”
Her mother sniffed, clearly indignant. “You did when you married before.”
“John was in the navy. I had no choice except to go where he did so I’d be near port when he came home.” Her cheeks heated. Perhaps it had felt to her mother like abandonment. “Then we settled in Surrey because that’s where he owned property. Near his parents’ cottage, though they’re no longer living.”
“You chose him over me.”
Oh, she would have to be impossible to the very last. “I didn’t, but I was his wife, and my first duty lay with him and then our son, yet I came back here as much as I was able.” She twisted her fingers in her skirt. “Surely you know that.”
“Do I? And now here you are, contemplating yet another relationship, and one which will see you gone away again.” Her mother sniffed, still in high dudgeon.
“If you’re intent on being miserable, I suppose you will be regardless of what I do.” She frowned. “Don’t you think I know my own mind enough that I can make smart decisions for my future? For my son’s future?”
“Not when you’re tarrying with that man. I don’t want him for you.”
“The sad truth is, you don’t want anyone for me due to selfish reasons.” Tears welled in her eyes. She could either find love and happiness again, or she could play nurse and servant to her mother. Both options meant the loss of someone close to her. “Mama, since there is nothing wrong with your heart, I suggest you square with the fact I’m still in love with Lord Tilbury. I believe my future is with him, so you’ll need to understand that where he goes, so will I.” Oh dear. She’d said those words aloud, and if that wasn’t the true state of her heart, she didn’t know what was. But a calming peace flowed over her.
Yes, it felt right, but would Stephen agree after this sordid drama?
Her mother pulled a handkerchief bordered in black lace from her sleeve. “Always following a fickle heart. What will become of me?” Though she went through the motions of sobbing, there was no trace of moisture on her wrinkled cheeks.
“I’m certain we can find solutions.”
“Ungrateful girl.” Now the tears came, but Lynette suspected they were naught but the crocodile variety.
Cold gooseflesh popped on her skin. “Please tell me you don’t merely want me with you to help bring in coin to save you and Birch House.” Was her mother that calculating?
“No, of course not.” Yet she dropped her gaze. “I...”
Lynette grabbed one of her mother’s hands even as her heart broke from the slight betrayal. “I need love in my life, Mama. Don’t you want me happy? Don’t I deserve that?”
“Yes, but what about me? I have no one else.”
“You refuse to leave Birch House, so the fault rests on you.” Lynette sighed. Her mother was stubborn and would prove a stumbling block to the future.
“Why should I? It’s my home. Always has been, and my connection to your father.” There was nothing in her eyes except scheming. “I’m not leaving now because you want a man sniffing at your skirts.”
Her heart squeezed painfully, for the tentative dreams she’d allowed to bloom while dancing with Stephen died as they encountered her mother’s unrelenting frost. Frustration took hold, and panic rose in her chest. Would she lose him a second time due to circumstances out of her control? Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “You won’t change your mind?”
“No, I won’t. Your duty is to your mother. Where it should always be.”
What of being true to myself? Yet how could she leave her mother to the proverbial wolves? With a sigh, she nodded. A weight pressed on her chest so heavy she could scarcely breathe. “I promise not to do anything until you’re settled, and Birch House isn’t at disaster’s door.”
It was a death knoll to her own dreams.
“Good.” The light of victory gleamed in her mother’s eye. “We have pies and cakes to make, remember. And you promised the village bakery a delivery for Christmas Eve.”
“I know.” Was this to be her life then, dancing attendance on her mother with no chance to escape?
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” Her mother back against the throw pillows on the sofa with a faint smile. “I don’t feel like returning to the ballroom, so please keep me company here, won’t you?”
“Of course, Mama.” She should be grateful that her mother’s health wasn’t forfeit, but all she wanted to do was burst into tears. Why was it that when she finally realized she loved Stephen with everything she was, another hurdle was placed into her path?
I don’t want to arrive at the end of my life and suffer from regrets, but my hands are tied.
When she broke the news to Stephen, he’d be devastated, and once more, because of her, his trust in women would be shattered.
I’m so sorry, Stephen. A few tears fell to her cheeks. This time around, there wasn’t a chance of putting together the splintered pieces of her own heart.