After Adele’s death, Mother wasn’t fond of walks in the park; she also was convinced certain flowers spread diseases. Whereshe got that belief from, Vivienne had no idea. One of the many quacks she consulted, likely.
Mother scowled. “You shouldn’t spend so much time in the park. It’s unhealthy, especially when elm trees are flowering.”
“It’s winter.”
“I don’t care. You went to the park almost every afternoon as of late. You aren’t going out today.”
Vivienne exhaled. Her trick had backfired. “I really want to.”
“I’ll be careful, my lady,” Dobkins said. “I’ll make sure Lady Vivienne gets a hot bath with kerosene when we’re back.”
Mother narrowed her gaze. “No.”
Why hadn’t Vivienne mentioned another place? “Mother, please. I won’t catch any diseases.”
The footman remained next to the door, glancing from Mother to Vivienne.
Dobkins didn’t move.
“Go to your room.” Mother pointed upstairs. “It’s for your own good.”
“No. I want to take a walk. Please, Mark, open the door,” she said to the footman.
“Don’t open the door, Mark.” Mother straightened. “Vivienne, you’ll go upstairs.”
“Mother—”
“Don’t make me say it again. I’ve been patient with you, but enough is enough. The more time you spend outside, the greater the danger of getting sick.”
“This is ridiculous.” Vivienne gripped the satchel, shaking. It was the first time she’d argued with her mother, and it was affecting her body.
Dobkins shifted her weight, and Mark removed his hand from the knob.
Mother quivered too, her cheeks paling. “Please. I can’t lose you, too. It’s cold. If you leave the house, you’ll get sick. I’m sureof it.” Her voice rose to a high-pitched, hysterical note that didn’t bode well.
“My lady, you might want to sit down.” Dobkins took Mother’s elbow.
Mother was shaking so hard her teeth chattered. “Adele fell sick on a day like this,” she whispered, as Dobkins led her to the sitting room.
“It’s all right, my lady. Lady Vivienne will stay home.” Dobkins gave her an apologetic glance.
Vivienne sagged against the bannister. Fear of living wasn’t living at all.
“Sorry, my lady.” Mark bowed and left the hallway.
She rushed up the stairs, angry tears burning her eyes. Mother was suffering, but so was she.
Once in her room, she tossed her coat and hat on a chair and paced. Giving advice to Samuel seemed so easy, but she shouldn’t talk. She lived in a cage, too. But something pinched inside her chest. Being angry with Mother because of Adele’s death tore her heart apart.
She dropped the satchel as well. Was it wrong of her to wish for a normal life?
“My lady.” Dobkins entered the bedroom and shut the door. “Your mother sent for the physician, and Mrs. Lewis is with her now. I’m so sorry.”
“Why does she have to be scared of everything?”
“Shush, my lady, please lower your voice. Your mother is at her worst during her crises. Winter is always difficult for her.”
Vivienne wiped her tears. “I hate it here.”
