Page 62 of A Housekeeper for the Earl of Drinkwater
The countess laughed heartily, and Edward felt like exploding with happiness.
“That is the most wonderful idea,” she said. “And please, enjoy yourself.”
The butler grinned as he bowed and excused himself. He bounced out of the room, whistling a happy tune. The mood in the manor was already lighter, even though his aunts were only just packing, and Edward grinned at his mother.
“It is so good to have you back, Mama,” he said, choking back tears. Unable to contain his joy any longer, he rushed over to her and embraced her.
She returned the embrace with strength and confidence, kissing her son on the cheek.
“Eat your breakfast, darling,” she said softly. “We have much to discuss.”
Edward nodded, but he did not stay in his seat. Instead, he moved his plate to the seat just beside his mother’s, feeling not unlike a young boy again. They ate for a few minutes in silence, Edward content to just watch his mother’s healthy appetite.
After a time, the countess looked at her son, smiling softly.
“You don’t need to watch me the entire time, darling,” she said. “I am here, and I am well, and everything will be all right now.”
Edward nodded, thinking back to his time with his aunts with distaste.
“They were trying to get me to marry that Lady Alice woman,” he began, but his mother nodded.
“I know, darling,” she said flatly. “They already told me all about it. I tried to tell them not to interfere, but I was so weak that they just dismissed me.”
Edward felt renewed dislike for his aunts and frowned.
“I am very glad they will soon be gone,” he said. “They did not even want to know why I do not wish to marry Lady Alice.”
His mother put down her fork, giving him a strange smile.
“And why do you not?” she asked. “From what I understand, she is very wealthy, and very pretty.”
Edward swallowed hard. This was, he felt, the perfect opportunity to be honest with his mother. He only prayed she would not be angry with him.
“Firstly, I do not know her,” he said cautiously. “The very same night I met her, they wanted me to propose to her. Her parents did, too.”
The countess nodded, still wearing her odd smile, and remaining silent.
“She did not speak a single word while we were dancing,” he said. “At first, she giggled and blushed foolishly. Then, she looked as though she might be sick. If I cannot even have a conversation with her, how can I ever marry her, dowry or not?”’
The countess nodded wisely.
“I could not agree more,” she said.
Edward took a deep breath. That his mother was not angry gave him courage. There was something else he wished to tell her.
“There is one more important reason,” he said quickly, before he could change his mind. “I love another woman. And knowing how wonderful and marvellous my love is, and how perfect a wife she would make me, I could not even consider marrying anyone else.”
His mother’s mouth twitched, and her eyes began to sparkle.
“Well,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you not marry her?”
Edward sighed.
“She is not titled, Mother,” he said, feeling fresh disappointment as he spoke the words. “She is a commoner, without any claim to nobility or wealth. . .”
“Nonsense,” the countess said, interrupting his rambling.
Edward stared at his mother in shock.
