Evander doubted that, but he did not want to argue with her. Not now. So instead, he squeezed her hand. “Can I fetch you anything? Tea, perhaps, or a blanket?”
She shook her head. “No. Having you here is enough. I was merely thinking of all that has been lost with Bryon’s passing. I shall never see him marry, never hold his children in my arms.” Her voice broke on the words. “And… I may not even live to see you wed and find happiness.”
He grasped her hand more firmly. “You are going to live a long time yet, Mother,” he said, willing it to be true.
She gave him a wan smile. “Pish-posh. We both know my health is failing. The doctor has not tried to soften his words. I do not have much longer.”
Silence fell between them and Evander felt his throat tighten. “I… could marry,” he offered, the words spilling out unbidden.
She looked at him with new interest. “Are you courting anyone?”
“No. But Father has been pressing me to marry Lady Jemima. I could—if it would bring you peace…”
She raised a hand to halt him. “Absolutely not! That girl is terrible. You would be miserable, and I would not see you sacrificed for convenience. I never understood what Bryon saw in her.”
“I think it was her dowry that caught his attention,” Evander offered.
His mother gave a weary sigh. “That would explain it. If I were to choose, I have always thought you and Olivia would suit one another.”
The mention of Olivia made his heart skip, though he schooled his features into neutrality. “Olivia and I are merely friends.”
“Perhaps,” she said knowingly. “But friendship is a fine foundation for marriage. It is more than your father and I began with.”
He hesitated. “Father has forbidden me from marrying her.”
“Because of the scandal?” she asked bluntly.
“Yes.”
His mother’s expression darkened with a hint of defiance. “And do you intend to obey him?”
Evander released her hand and leaned back with a sigh. “No, but?—”
“Then why not ask her?” she interrupted, her gaze bright with sudden resolve. “Thetonwould be far more forgiving if she married the heir to an earldom. It would shield her from further harm, and it would bring me comfort to know you were with someone who could truly make you happy.”
“Mother…” Evander began, taken aback. “Surely you cannot mean for me to wed her out of duty alone.”
“I would be more at peace if I knew you were wed, yes. But more than that—I have seen how you look at her, Evander. Do not deny it.”
He looked away. “We are friends,” he murmured.
“The best of friends.”
“We were, when we were younger. Now… we each lead separate lives. I scarcely see her.”
Her gaze met his, filled with quiet understanding. “I know I ask much of you, my son. But think on it—for my sake.”
Before he could respond, a soft knock sounded at the door. A moment later it opened, and his father stood in the threshold, his bearing uncharacteristically tentative.
“How are you, Diana?” he asked, his voice gentler than usual.
A thin smile touched her lips. “I am well enough.”
“Would you… would you care for me to read to you before dinner?” he offered awkwardly.
“I would like that,” she replied.
The earl looked visibly relieved and stepped farther into the room.
