Page 58 of Lord Trafford's Folly
“It is good to see you, Mother.” It was. Julius was still rather overcome about their reunion.
“It has been too long. Over six years since I saw you off at the docks.”
Julius could not recall much about that day, other than having his head buried in a bucket. It had been such a sweet blessing to plant his boots on French soil. The winds had blustered something fierce that day as if to mock his propensity for seasickness.
“Is … Penelope …”
“She is upstairs. Exhausted from traveling, but she will be down for dinner.”
Julius stared at the hedges, trying to think what to say. The timing of his mother’s return was rather awkward. He had yet to explain to his father what the letter from Lady Astley meant, or the macabre circumstances that had prompted Audrey to go into hiding with him. The prospect of explaining any of it to his mother, whom he well liked, was mortifying. Especially when he considered the terrible proposal he had made—that he might pursue other women in the future? Sitting beside his mother was highlighting the despicable nature of it. Brendan had been correct. Why was he not doing the honorable thing? Not for appearances, but from genuine intent.
His mother’s presence was making him face an uncomfortable truth. The reason Audrey could not be permitted to leave England was …
He cut the thought off.
“How …”
Lady Smiling sipped her tea, then put her cup and saucer down to gaze at him. “I have to thank you for bringing me home.”
Julius stared at her blankly for several seconds, light-headed with the joy of seeing his mother after such a lengthy time apart, while horribly embarrassed that she would learn about his Audrey. Not to mention befuddled by the words she had just uttered.
He swallowed and tried to find words to sort through the morass. “I brought you home?”
His mother smiled and nodded. “You did. You stated the words your father needed to hear. It brings me to an understanding about the pitfalls of being raised in high society.”
“Which are?”
“We are raised to not speak our minds. I was unhappy with the state of affairs with your father. I hated he worked so much, and had so little time or energy to spare for me, for our family. So I left for Paris, hoping he would change his ways. Months turned into years, but he did nothing. After a while, I gave up and resigned myself to remaining estranged. The problem was … I never attempted the direct route.”
Julius struggled with his mother’s intimate confession about her relationship with his father. He had suspected all that she had revealed, but it had never been spoken. His mother was not a typical member of theton. She was lighter of spirit, less likely to criticize, and pleasant company. Lady Stirling was well-liked amongst thebeau monde, despite her colorful fashion and irreverent manners, but she was still a very private person who did not discuss her problems with others. At least, never in Julius’s presence.
He licked his lips, which had gone dry, raising his tea to take a sip. “The direct route?”
She smiled. “It was brave of you to speak your mind to your father. I could have saved our family a great deal of trouble if I had done so instead of haring off to Paris. It seemed at the time to be the right move, but in retrospect I was beingrather dramatic to avoid”— his mother shook her head, as if to remonstrate her past self—“all in an effort to avoid being dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” It was the one word he could get out of his mouth.
His mother laughed, the tinkling quality reminding him of the happiness of his youth. Long before the stilted interactions that were characteristic of the Trafford family. “Melodramatic is more like it. I never told your father that I wished for things to change. How was he to know my wishes if I never informed him?”
Julius was struggling with their conversation. His view of the world had been formed, set in stone, but currently he was back at sea. The decks were tilting beneath his feet, his head was swimming, and he was fighting back a wave of nausea. His mother’s proximity, the sentiments she was vocalizing, were forcing him out of kilter as he reconsidered the conclusions he had formed over the years.
“But … do you not … regret being trapped in a marriage with Lord Snarli—Father?”
His mother pursed her lips, the moss hue of her eyes clouding with regret. Julius did not notice the tiny brown spots within the bands of her irises—but hers had always been harder to make out than his. “Is that what you think of your father? That he is a snarling beast?”
“He is a beast!” Julius asserted, but he was not as certain as he had been.
“Your father shoulders a great number of responsibilities. More than is fair for one man to shoulder. Your remonstrations over our family affairs have made him re-evaluate his priorities. Which is why he has informed the King that he cannot continue with his duties on behalf of the Crown. He is to make time for his other affairs. Us.”
Julius frowned, dropping his gaze to the teacup and feeling a little like a boy who had been caught sneaking into the pantry. It was uncomfortable to reveal his criticism. “Father has neglected you for years. It is untenable how he abandoned you.”
He glanced up to gauge her reaction and discovered his mother’s lean face reflected regret. Her fingertips stroked over the rings on her fingers as she contemplated Julius. “Son, I do not regret my marriage. I wish I had spoken with your father and attempted to assist him with his burdens. The mistakes were just as much mine as they were his. Instead of insisting he pay more mind to his duties at home, I added to his burdens. A simple conversation would have accomplished much. Your words to him were taken to heart, and I regret … I should have been more sincere in my communication with him. I cannot expect him to guess my grievances, which is why I appreciate you stated your thoughts more openly than I.”
Hearing his mother accept her role in the decline of her marriage was the last thing he wished to hear. He had put his mother on a pedestal and laid all the blame on his father. Blamed it on marriage when the truth was far more complicated. Lord Stirling was a great man who had made mistakes. His mother was a wonderful woman who was flawed.
It had been easy to witness the stern countenance of his father and the merry mien of his mother and assume who was at fault but, if he understood her correctly, marriage was a cooperation that required efforts from both parties to succeed.
Julius dropped his face into his hands, groaning his despair as the hypothetical deck tilted to throw him off his feet, his head dizzy with the revelation he had been trying to conceal from himself.
