She was going to wring her meddling sister’s neck for suggesting it and their maid Lily for promptly having it pressed and laid out on her bed to tempt her.
Instead of feeling bold and beautiful for Luke tonight to give him a dazzling lasting memory of her before she left him for a month, and feeling confident about her new status as an official author under contract to the best publishing house in the land, she was now severely doubting her flawed logic. As well as feeling hideously self-conscious because she had left herself wide open to the predatory stares of the very gentlemen she abhorred while the one she had specifically worn it to entice was nowhere to be found.
The last she had seen of Luke, he had been twirling breathless with Charity who had purposely commandeered him almost as soon as he had stepped foot in the ballroom. It was obvious she had grabbed him simply to goad her, knowing full well Hope never danced as a point of principle. Which left Hope to fend off Lord Harlington and then Lord Ealing in quick succession before her wretched fichu had given up the ghost and deserted her too.
She was about to attempt one last try at repairing it, when she spotted Luke’s mother hurtling towards the French doors, her face quite ashen and her eyes wild, yet no sign of the ever-present Clowance anywhere.
Fearing for her, and mindful that Luke was concerned that she was throwing herself too quickly back into society on his behalf than she could cope with, Hope hurried out of the French doors behind her. This early in the evening, the torchlit terrace was still empty, but Maria had made a dash for the dark lawn beyond and was several yards down the path when she called her.
‘Maria! Is everything all right?’
The older woman stopped short but didn’t turn around immediately, seemingly doing her level best to calm herself before she did. ‘I thought I might take a turn around the garden. I needed some fresh air. It is so warm in there.’ Tiny beads of perspiration dewed her upper lip as she smiled and there was an agitation about her which Hope had not seen in the three weeks she had been in the capital.
‘I am not surprised. It is such a crush. I swear half of London is currently crammed in that small ballroom. I wouldn’t mind a turn about the garden myself if you would appreciate the company?’
Maria hesitated as she fought for composure, then nodded. ‘Your company would be nice...thank you.’
They set off deeper into the garden at a more sedate pace, Maria taking measured, slow breaths as she did so and Hope pretending not to notice to spare the woman her dignity. After several minutes, she was visibly calmer and back to her normal colour.
‘I am assuming my son has confided in you all my troubles?’
She schooled her features to not give him away. ‘Troubles?’
‘Oh, come now, my dear, I know that he has told you because my son is quite besotted with you and he is as honest as the day is long. He would consider himself disingenuous in pursuing his affections if he concealed the sorry truth from you, and quite rightly too. If you are marching headlong into marriage, which I can plainly see you both are, it is only fair you know what you are walking into. If he hasn’t, I will.’ Dark eyes, so like her son’s, dared her to deny it. ‘For you have a right to know, even though I would rather nobody ever knew the terrible truth at all and it shames me to have to admit to it.’
‘He mentioned you had been ill.’
‘I was more than ill, Hope. I was mad. Twice apparently. Though I am certain one of those was not entirely of my own doing, so I try to be kind to myself about that one.’ Maria was staring intently, carefully watching Hope’s reaction and obviously dreading it at the same time. ‘Though I am not any longer, thank the lord. At least I do not feel mad. I suppose that could be more delusion on my part than actuality, as heaven only knows I have been prone to delusions a time or two, but I don’t think it is. At least it doesn’tfeellike it is.’ She shrugged and smiled without humour. ‘This little episode of panic notwithstanding, of course, which I hope you will not judge me for.’
‘You need feel no shame nor fear nor judgement from me.’
‘But I do, Hope. I fear your pity, because I would hate for you to view me as a lesser, more feeble person because of my past and because sometimes certain situations temporarily overwhelm me.’
Maria squared her shoulders bravely, humbling Hope with her honesty and her trust. ‘But itistemporary. I become overanxious occasionally, especially in confined or unfamiliar places as I did just then—but it passes, as you can see.’
‘I can see, and to be brutally honest with you, Maria, had Luke not confided in me, I would never have guessed you had been ill. He led me to believe you were much more fragile than you are.’
‘That is because he is unnecessarily, and dare I say it, annoyingly overprotective and terrified I will lose my wits again. He sees every little panic as evidence of my inevitable decline, the wretch, so I try to hide it from him. Hence I am here and not in there, as he will frogmarch me home and wrap me in a blanket, and treat me like an invalid again.’
‘He is annoyingly overprotective.’ Which as irritating traits went wasn’t so terrible.
‘And you won’t tell him you saw me in a state?’
‘I can think of no earthly reason why he needs to know.’
Maria smiled. ‘Thank you. It’ll only send him into a panic when even my physician says that there is a stark difference between occasional anxiety and certifiable insanity.’
‘A crowded ballroom can be daunting at the best of times, especially if you are not used to it or fear the judgement of others.’
‘Alas much as I fear them judging me, it is Luke I would prefer to protect. I should hate for my past to taint his future or make his new life here any more difficult than it needs to be. I so wish I could stop him worrying about me having a relapse as I have absolutely no intention of having another one again.’
Hope reached out to squeeze her hand. ‘From what Luke has told me, you wouldn’t have had a relapse if his callous brother hadn’t had you committed in the first place. He said you were quite well when they took you away and had been for years.’
Maria’s smile was filled with regret. ‘I was well. I am glad he remembered that...’ She stared down at her hands. ‘We do not tend to talk about it...at least not as openly as you and I are talking about it now. I know that he worries about my mental state and any mention of it distresses him because he felt so impotent about it all when they took me away. And I never bring it up because I hate seeing him distressed. It’s silly really, I suppose, as one cannot erase the past, but I so wish I could properly apologise to him for it. I feel it sits between us—the great unsaid—always hovering in the air but never cleared.’
Hope squeezed her arm. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. You were the victim of Cassius. He is entirely to blame.’
‘For Mill House and what happened there, yes. Undoubtedly. I know without a shadow of a doubt that dreadful place drove me mad, and on purpose too. But when after Luke liberated me from that cesspit and worked his fingers to the bone getting me the very best care and treatments to make me well again, I came to understand what had sent me mad in the first place and I wish I could apologise to him for it all in a way that doesn’t make him feel responsible for that too.’ Tears were swimming in her eyes now. ‘For I blamed him for it for years and was a dreadful mother to him as a result.’
