Page 50 of Lady Fiona's Tall, Dark Folly
Chapter 12
Rory's travel coach approached Bath's Queen Square as church bells tolled noon. Welles faced them and their conversation had been limited because of the maid's presence. Eager to talk with Fifi without the servant overhearing, he had decided to take Welles home to her mistress before going onward to Fifi's in the Royal Crescent. At her departure, they'd be together alone only minutes. But in his eyes, he and Fifi were engaged and appropriately pledged to each other. The lack of the maid's presence was immaterial to him at the moment. And Fifi did not object.
"I will write to Lady Mary this afternoon, Welles." Fifi reassured the maid before the woman stepped out of his coach. "I'm very thankful for all you've done for me these past few days."
The maid nodded. "I was happy to help, my lady. I do wish you both every happiness."
As his coachman snapped the reins and headed them toward Fifi's home, Rory took her hand. "Explain to me why you don't wish me to meet your mother today."
"I need to prepare her for the news of our engagement. It will be a surprise. She thinks of me as a spinster."
But he had an inkling there was something more Fifi would not say. "You said she is often not logical."
Fifi cupped his cheek. "Rory, she is quite erratic. I fear for her reaction."
Wild, then, the mother? Well, he's witnessed worse, he'd wager.He covered her hand and turned to drop a kiss to her palm. "I've seen much, my love, of those who cannot bear what they see or hear. Or what they imagine and fear. I am not put off by such."
Her smile was tenuous...and troubling to him. "But I am. I wish you to think well of me. Of us."
He pulled her into his arms. She was stiff in his embrace and he questioned the cause. He'd noticed a strain of fear in her behavior since the wedding breakfast yesterday and he could not pry from her the reason. "I think well of you, my love. So well, I wish not to part from you."
A wariness darkened her brow. But she nestled to him readily enough. "I do not want it either...but you must tell your mother and sister in person of your decision to marry me."
He'd written to both of them two days ago and while the post was always delivered swiftly, he had not anticipated he'd receive any replies from them before he returned home. "I have every confidence I arrive to their congratulations."
"Still," she said, tipping her head to and fro. "I'm sure they want you to themselves when you give them the full story."
Both women were used to having him to themselves since he'd arrived home from France. "Nonetheless, I will see to delivery of our special license and return to you quickly. I’ll bring my mother and sister along. Shall we marry here in Bath with your mother present?”
"Don't count on that, Rory."
"Why not?"
"I doubt she'll come."
He pulled away to examine the tension on her face.
"I doubt I want her to attend." Tears sprang to her eyes.
"Oh, my darling." He pulled her close.
She clutched at him and tucked her forehead against his throat. "I'm not ashamed of her. I could not hold her accountable for her mental condition. But I am afraid of what she will do. She can be spiteful and mean."
The fright on her face took his breath. Dear God. Was her mother that irrational?
It didn't matter.
"She cannot frighten me away, my darling." Humans in the throes of mental disparity could become animals. How many men had he seen fight like dogs over a bayonet? Or run into a cavalry charge with only a knife in hand? Or fire their rifle over and over without shot? He pressed his lips to her temple and put two fingers to her chin. "I understand. I do. Know this. That whatever you deem best for her and for us, I will do."
He crushed her closer. "I love you, Fee. I love you. There is no one who will part us."
* * *
Fifi ledhim into her parlor. "This is Jerrold, my family's bulwark against the world."
The old butler tipped his head in courtesy to Rory. "May I bring tea or serve luncheon, perhaps?"
Fee arched a brow. "Before you depart for home? A good idea, don't you think?"
