Page 45 of Wolfehound
Did Papa know my mother?
A simple question that had an explosive answer.
“I said it because every woman risks her life when she gives birth,” Fair Lydia said after a long pause. “I risked my life when I gave birth to my son, many years ago. That is what women do, Dearest. They risk their lives so their children may live.”
That momentarily satisfied Cambria’s curiosity and she turned back to the mirror, inspecting the fit of the scarlet bodice. “I wish he could have lived,” she said. “I would have liked to have had a brother.”
“You have your cousins from Netherghyll,” Fair Lydia said. “They could be like brothers, I suppose.”
Cambria shrugged. “They are not particularly interested in me and I am not particularly interested in them,” she said. “They seem to look down on Papa because he married for his property. Not everyone has a birthright, but those two are arrogant about it. If you want to know the truth, I never liked them.”
Fair Lydia fought off a grin. “Nor I,” she said. “It is a pity, however. We do not have a big family like some and can ill afford to cast off relatives. Even annoying ones.”
Cambria flashed her mother a smile. “Mayhap Liam and I will have a dozen children and you will have all of those little sprites running around your feet,” she said. “I will give us a big family, Mama. Wait and see.”
Fair Lydia snorted. “I suppose until then I shall have to content myself with puppies running around my feet,” she said. “There are more puppies out there than we can handle and you have made more money for the coffers than your father has for your dowry. Truly, Liam will be a very wealthy man when he marries you.”
Cambria shook her head firmly. “I intend to spend all of my money before he can have it.”
“On what?”
“Jewels,” she said, watching her mother laugh. “I am serious, Mama. Jewels and silks and slippers and mayhap even fine horses.”
Fair Lydia shook her head at her frivolous daughter. “It is your right, of course,” she said. “The money is yours to do with as you please.”
Cambria was still smiling as she turned back to the mirror and pulled a gold silken scarf off a peg on the wall. She held it up to her neck, looking at the color against her skin, as she pondered what else to wear so she would look absolutely spectacular for Liam when he arrived.
“Still,” she said after a moment, “it is a pity that we will not have more family here for the wedding. Papa invited his brother, but he did not respond. Nor did those two arrogant sons of his. I feel bad for Papa.”
“Why?”
“Because he has a brother he never sees,” she said. “He acts as if he does not care about us. I suppose Colm was more of a brother to him than his own. Do you suppose he misses Colm?”
Fair Lydia nodded. “Of course he does,” she said. “But Colm’s father was ill and he had to go home to assume the lordship of the Trilateral Castles. And he married that woman he’d spoken of—Maeve, I think her name was. Remember that he spoke of her?”
“I do,” Cambria said. “The one he had been fond of as a young man, but she married and then was widowed. He married her when he returned home.”
“I do hope he found happiness,” Fair Lydia said, remembering the miserable man who had served her husband well. “Papa did not invite him to your wedding, sadly.”
“Why not?”
“I do not know. I did not ask.”
“Then it seems we shall have no family here. Only us.”
Thoughts of the earlier part of their conversation came around again and Fair Lydia pondered, once again, bringing up the truth about Cambria’s family. Cambria seemed to be speaking a great deal of it, of family and the lack thereof. As if it meant something to her.
“Is family so important to you, Bria?” Fair Lydia asked gently.
Cambria put the gold scarf aside. “I suppose,” she said. “I will confess that I always wanted brothers and sisters. Mayhap that is why I raise puppies. There are so many of them, all brothers and sisters, and I envy them. They can take comfort in their siblings and parents. It is a big family.”
After hearing that rather wistful statement, Fair Lydia was struck by the loneliness projecting from her daughter. Either she hadn’t noticed it before or Cambria had been good at hiding it. Whatever the case, it struck a chord in her. After a moment, she sighed heavily.
It was time.
“Come and sit next to me,” she said. “I must speak with you.”
Cambria didn’t sense anything serious. She simply did as her mother asked and went to sit on a stool, lifting up her heavy skirts so she wouldn’t crease them. With her voluminous dress spread out around her, she faced her mother.
