One day.
“Well, regardless of how you look, I’m so glad you’re home safe. I do not know what Grandpapa was thinking sending you all the way to Scotland. Goodness, if I was scared for you, I do not know how you must have felt.”
“I had Mary and Mr. Johnson and Mr. Young, remember?”
Her mother finally shrugged off her jacket and gloves and handed them over to the butler. Tugging out her hat pins and removing her hat, she laid them in the curve of her garment and passed them over too.
“I remember. It did not stop me worrying for you. I would rather your brothers have been able to come with you.” Mama walked through to the drawing room, and Minerva followed. “Hughes, will you bring some tea, please?” she asked the butler.
The butler gave a tip of his head and left the room. Minerva sat opposite her mother on the sofa. How strange it had been to be back in their London townhouse, sitting on elegant but impractical furniture, lying on a luxurious mattress but alone.Though none of the usual fears took hold, she did not relish the lack of a certain person beside her.
“I am sorry I was not here to greet you, darling.” Her mother settled onto her chair and tucked her skirts neatly about herself. “I had to visit Theo.”
“And is all well?”
Mama shrugged. “You know what he is like. He rarely reveals anything. But he will succeed in his task. I cannot imagine why he would not.”
“And the others?” asked Minerva.
“Seth seems to be keeping himself very busy, though whether it is in search of a wife, I do not know. I had a quick letter from Angel telling me that she had arrived safely. I’m certain she will adapt as she is wont to do.”
“That is good news.”
“And you? I’m assuming you collected what Grandpapa wanted.”
“I did indeed. And I met with Mr. Barton yesterday. He is satisfied that my task is complete.” Minerva locked her fingers together at the site of her mother’s beaming smile. If only she could feel satisfied with the task well done.
“I am so proud of you, darling. You do not know how I have worried. Did…did your nightmares cause troubles?”
Minerva gave a soft smile. “I had a few troubles, Mama, but I think Grandpapa knew what he was doing when he sent me on this journey.”
Though whether he could have predicted she would meet a Scotsman with whom she had likely fallen in love, she did not know. Just thinking of him so far away made her heart hurt. If she closed her eyes, she could still remember the kiss he gave her when she left the farmhouse—tender and hesitant. She saw the sadness in his eyes.
“You should be proud of yourself. Perhaps now you shall be up to journeying more.” Her mother pressed her hands together. “Oh, we should have a ball once this is all over. Then you can meet some eligible men.”
Her stomach felt as though it had been filled with rocks, heavy and uncomfortable. But it was not because of the prospect of meeting lots of people and travelling to her brother’s estate for a ball. No, it was because even though she had always regretted not living such a life, now that she was able to, she did not think that was what she wanted.
A crease appeared between her mother’s brows. “Minerva, does that not excite you? Do such things still frighten?”
“You would be surprised at what little does scare me now, Mama. But I will admit, I am not interested in a ball.”
Her mother leaned across and briefly rubbed her hand. “Well, whatever you need, my dear. I am simply glad to have you home.”
Minerva grimaced. It was not that she was not happy to see her mother, but this place had never been a home. It had been a prison. Perhaps she had not realized that until she had been travelling through the wild open spaces of Scotland, but the thought of spending even another day at home sent a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Mama—”
Hughes entered with a tray of tea and biscuits. He laid them down on the table in the center of the room, poured the tea, then retreated to the corner. Mama leaned over and took her cup, adding milk and sugar. Minerva ignored hers. Her heart beat fast with the knowledge of what she needed to do.
“Mama—”she tried again, but the rest of the words stuck in her throat.
“What is it, my dear?”
“I… I do not know if you heard, but Mary was rather ill on the journey.”
“No, how unfortunate. She is well now?”
“Yes, she rested well. We were lucky enough to happen upon a…a farmer who aided us.”