“I don’t mind riding in the cold,” Arabella admitted. “I find it rather refreshing.”
Her grandmother started rubbing lotion onto her arms. “Your mother would have said the exact same thing, if she were here,” she said. “Nothing deterred Sophie from riding.”
Arabella sat on the settee next to the bed. “I miss my mother.”
“I know,” her grandmother replied. “I miss her, too.”
“At times, I can’t believe she is truly gone.”
Her grandmother smiled tenderly at her. “It will grow easier with the passing of time.”
Arabella scoffed. “Apparently, enough time has passed for my father to remarry.”
“Try not to be too hard on him,” her grandmother advised.
“Why?”
“Because everyone deals with grief in their own way.”
Arabella shook her head. “I disagree,” she said. “I contend that my father never truly loved my mother in the first place.”
“That is rather harsh of you to say.”
“I think of her all the time, but I doubt he does.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He allowed my stepmother to remove Mother’s portrait from the main level and put it in the attic.”
Her grandmother frowned. “That might be bad form, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t think of your mother.”
“If Augusta had her way, she would remove all trace of my mother in our homes, and my father would be complacent,” Arabella remarked.
“Your stepmother is still young,” her grandmother said. “Most likely, she is intimidated by your mother.”
It was Arabella’s turn to frown. “You are being entirely too sensible at the moment.”
Her grandmother laughed. “I’m afraid that comes with my old age,” she responded.
“I just want my life to go back to the way it was before Mother died.”
Rising, her grandmother walked over to the settee and sat next to her. “I’m afraid that is impossible,” she said. “You must look ahead towards your future.”
“My future is bleak.”
“Not so,” her grandmother contended. “Your future is bright and filled with endless possibilities.”
Arabella lifted her brow. “I have had two broken engagements, and my reputation is in tatters,” she responded. “I have no doubt that thetonwill not be kind to me, assuming I even go to Town next Season.”
“Where else would you go?”
“I could always remain at our country home for the Season.”
“Rubbish,” her grandmother declared. “You can’t just give up.”
“I’m not giving up, but rather choosing to accept my lot in life.”
Her grandmother gave her a knowing look. “That sounds a lot like giving up.”
