Lady Oxley rose. “Diane,” she greeted.
Her mother walked over and kissed Lady Oxley’s cheek. “Elizabeth,” she greeted warmly. “I do thank you for coming to call.”
“It is my pleasure,” Lady Oxley said as she turned her gaze towards Enid. “When you told me that Enid had returned, I wanted to see her for myself.”
Enid dropped into a curtsy. “My lady,” she murmured.
Lady Oxley smiled, her kind eyes radiating warmth. “You are looking well, my dear,” she acknowledged. “I daresay that motherhood agrees with you.”
She could feel herself relax in the viscountess’ presence. “Thank you,” she said.
Gesturing towards her dark-haired daughter, Lady Oxley asked, “Are you acquainted with Anette?”
“I am not,” Enid admitted.
“We must rectify that at once,” Lady Oxley said, glancing down at her daughter. “Anette loves nothing more than making new friends. Don’t you, dear?”
Miss Bolingbroke nodded. “I do. I just sit around all day and make lists of qualities that I want in friends.”
Lady Oxley pressed her lips together. “You must excuse my daughter’s dry sense of humor.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Enid said.
“You are too kind,” Lady Oxley murmured as she returned to her seat.
Her mother went to sit across from Lady Oxley and her daughter and Enid claimed the seat next to her. A maid brought in a tea service and placed it on the table before departing from the room.
“Would you care to pour, Enid?” her mother asked.
Enid moved to sit on the edge of her seat and poured four cups of tea. Then she handed one to each of the women.
While they sipped their tea, Lady Oxley turned her attention towards the portrait above the fireplace. “I just adore that portrait of you,” she acknowledged.
“That was painted on my wedding day,” her mother said, growing nostalgic. “It was the best of days.”
“My husband and I are commissioning portraits of us and it is an exhausting task to plan for,” Lady Oxley revealed.
“I just had a portrait commissioned and it is hanging in the parlor. Would you care to see it?” her mother asked as she placed her teacup down on the table.
“I would,” Lady Oxley replied, rising. “Would you care to join us, Anette?”
“No, thank you,” Miss Bolingbroke replied.
Enid spoke up. “I shall remain here and keep her company.”
Lady Oxley nodded approvingly. “That is kind of you,” she said.
After the ladies departed, Enid took a sip of her tea and listened to the gentle ticking of the long clock in the corner. She thought it would be best if she made an effort to get to know Miss Bolingbroke. It was far preferable than sitting here and staring awkwardly at one another.
As she thought on what she should ask, Miss Bolingbroke surprised her by asking, “Do you regret eloping?”
Enid choked on her tea. “I beg your pardon?”
Miss Bolingbroke held her gaze and repeated the question. “Do you regret eloping?”
“I do not wish to speak of that,” Enid replied.
“That is a shame,” Miss Bolingbroke replied as she sat back. “I am writing a book and I thought one of my characters could elope.”
