He leaned in, reaching for her hands, but she veered back with a gasp. Dropping his hands, he said, “Henry can’t be here right now, Mama. He sent me.”
Turning, he looked to Lucy for guidance.
Nancy caught his eye. She was shaking her head and took a step back into the shadows beyond the doorway of the conservatory. Evan looked to Lucy who was next to her, just inside the kitchen on the other side of the threshold. She, too, made a negative gesture.
Turning back, he tried to at least visit with his mother. “How are you today? Have you been knitting?”
“Lucy, where are you? Please, this gentleman is pestering me.”
Lucy stepped in, hands gripping each other at her waist. He was sure it was a less than ideal position to be in, but he’d made it clear to her at the start that she would be Rose’s advocate. If he was upsetting her more than Lucy thought acceptable, she could direct him to do whatever she thought best. He’d run through the same guidance with Nancy in the carriage this morning.
The new nurse might as well see this scenario so she knows there are no repercussions.
“Sir, I think ’tis best that you leave Lady Rose for today.”
“Of course.”
Evan stood. He refrained from kissing his mother’s cheek in farewell, knowing it would upset her, even as the lack of affection jabbed him again.
“I hope I can visit with you tomorrow, Moth—Lady Rose.”
Lucy laid a hand on his arm as he passed. “I can spend some time with Nancy out of sight of your mama, to start the transition.”
He nodded, unable to speak through the lump in his throat. Lifting a hand in a desultory wave, he walked out into the rain and leaned against the stone wall next to the front door of the little house.
Evan buried his head in his hands and sobbed.
****
After changing into dry clothes, Evan searched for his friend. When he entered the guest suite’s sitting room and converted workroom, he sighed, glad to have Ford so close. Relocating a half-finished piece that looked like a bustier comprised mostly of straps with metal rings holding them together, he gave it only a passing glance as he settled into the chair he’d cleared.
Robert finished punching a few more holes for stitches with the sharp stitching awl and put the bundle of leather in his lap aside. “Bags. You look tired.”
Evan appreciated his friend’s discretion. Tired was better than looking like he’d been crying his eyes out.
“Just worried. I brought the new nurse back with me. But mama is easily vexed by changes in routine.” He shrugged.
“Would a Scotch help?”
“It certainly would not hurt.” He smiled at Robert when he got up to pour them each a drink.
As he passed Evan the drink, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Eh. For every visit she recognizes me, there are more and more when she doesn’t. ’Tis hard to see your mother standing in front of you and remember that she is not really there anymore. I miss her.”
“I am sorry. Do you remember her going through this with her father? How old were you at the time?”
“I was young. So no, I don’t recall it. I just know what she told me later, when she warned me about the possibility of it happening to me…and first, to her.”
“And did she give you any tips to help cope?”
“No. Her focus was on ensuring I lived as full a life as possible, as I was liable to have it curtailed. And to remind me that she would always love me. But how—” He choked up again and took a fortifying sip of whisky. “—can she love me when she doesn’t recognize me?”
Robert shook his head. “I don’t think it works like that, Bags. Love underlies it all, for a parent. She did everything she could to prepare you for this time and to mitigate your pain when it became difficult, out of a place of love.”
“Well, it did no such thing. And I cannot imagine doing that to a wife or child.”
“How did you find a new nurse so quickly? You’ve been gone less than a month.”
