Page 72 of Duke of Emeralds
Thomas stepped forward and caught Patience’s outstretched hand, bowed smartly, and pressed his lips to her knuckles before she could even issue the command. Hester let herself be enveloped in her mother’s embrace.
“You look very beautiful, Mama,” Hester said.
Patience beamed. “So do you, my dear. Doesn’t she, Thomas? Isn’t she the most graceful creature in London?”
“I would not argue the point, My Lady,” Thomas replied.
“See?” Patience grinned as Leo came forward and bowed.
“Welcome to our home.”
“I’m honored to be here,” Thomas replied.
Patience, who had never required more than the faintest breeze to be swept into action, clapped her hands twice and declared, “Dinner is to be served in the small dining room. I thought it would be cozier, don’t you agree? Come, come, let us not stand on ceremony!”
Hester smiled because in that instant, her mother appeared to be her former self.
Patience herded them down the hallway, past the marble bust of Sir Francis Bacon, saying, “your father’s favorite philosopher, Hester, you remember?” and into the dining room where a small, circular dining table waited.
As the first course arrived, Patience wasted no time in setting up the dinner conversation. “I want to hear everything. How is the castle? Have you begun making improvements? Hester, did you not find the Dorset air better than Town? Country air always did wonders for your father’s lungs?—”
Hester held her breath as her mother stopped abruptly and blinked as though she was trying to recall something while Leonard winced.
“Lushton Castle is splendid, Mama,” Hester replied, silently praying that her mother would not slip into her haze of grief.
“The castle is thriving. Mostly thanks to your daughter, who has remade the place entirely in her image. She’s become something of a legend in Dorset.”
“Well, I should hope so! My darling girl deserves her own legend. It is what I always wished for her. And I am grateful to you, Thomas.”
Leonard smiled across the table. “If you’re not careful, Hester, your new husband may become the favorite child.”
“Oh, he’s already the favorite,” Patience said. “He writes me letters, did you know? Letters! Entire pages, sometimes two.” She shot a look at Leonard, who feigned deep offense.
“I was under the impression,” Leonard replied, “that you preferred the suspense of not knowing my whereabouts for weeks at a time.”
“You wrote her letters?” Hester whispered to Thomas, and he only smiled and raised his wineglass. “To the best family in England, then.”
“To family,” echoed Patience, tears already threatening to make a ruin of her powder.
The soup was cleared, replaced by roast fowl. Toward the end of the course, Patience set her fork aside with a sigh. “You are so well matched,” she said, eyes sweeping over Hester and Thomas. “It is exactly as I always dreamed, Hester. You’ve found a man who will love you forever. Your father is certainly very proud.”
There it was—the trapdoor. Hester felt it give way beneath her, but Leonard leaped in before she could.
“Mother,” he said, “let’s not?—”
But Patience overrode him, her gaze growing sharper with every word. “Your father is delayed of course. He wrote yesterday—did you see his letter, Hester? He is in Liverpool still but expects to return in a week, perhaps two. I don’t know how we shall manage the garden party without him.”
Hester’s hands clenched beneath the table. She could hear Leonard’s breathing change, could see the warning signs in his jaw, but she kept her eyes on her plate and willed the moment to pass. She didn’t dare look up at Thomas.
“He has never missed your birthday, Hester, not even once,” Patience continued. “I remember your third year, when the fever was so bad—I was sure we would lose you, but he sat by your bed every night and read you poetry until the fever broke. Do you remember it, my darling?”
She did not. She had never remembered it. But she nodded because it was easier than the alternative. Thomas’ large hand reached for hers underneath the table and squeezed. Hester closed her eyes.
Leonard cleared his throat. “Mother, it’s time for your?—”
But Patience cut him off as her smile turned brittle. “Do not interrupt, Leonard. We are celebrating. And your father will be home soon. I know it.”
The silence that followed was not merely awkward but alive, crawling across the table and latching itself onto every living soul in the room.
