Page 72 of Mail-Order Lady

Mother sat in the chair nearest the fireplace, her posture perfect as always. Mr. Sutton had taken the seat opposite, his hands folded in his lap. He studied her as she approached.

Robert stood with his arms crossed near the window. Kate still gripped the settee frame, her knuckles white against the wood. She needed to sit, or better yet, go upstairs and lie down. Thomas hadn’t moved from her side.

Clara set the tray on the low table in the center and began pouring. The ritual of it—cup, saucer, cream, sugar—gave her something to focus on besides the tension pressing through the room.

As she poured, Mother spoke, but seemed to be addressing her comment to Robert. “Your father then, he visits often? I expect his work in Parliament must keep him busy. And all the estates. You have a home in London, I assume?”

That tightness coiled back through her middle. How had she learned about Robert’s father? It made sense, though, why this sudden acceptance of Clara’s husband and the family they’d both married into. Robert hadn’t wanted Mother to know, but somehow she’d found out.

Perhaps this would be better though. This way Mother could leave satisfied, and they wouldn’t have to worry about her again.

Robert’s voice came steady. “He’s in London at present. Parliament sits until August.”

Mother’s smile deepened. “How fortunate for you all to have such connections. I confess, when I first learned of your father’s position, I was quite surprised. A duke. And his sons choosing to ranch in the wilderness rather than remain in England. It speaks to a certain independence of spirit.”

The words sounded like a compliment, but the way she said them—with that careful emphasis on duke—made Clara’s stomach clench.

She handed the cup to her mother, with sugar and cream the way she liked it. Then turned to Mr. Sutton. “Sugar and cream, sir?”

“Cream, please.” His voice had a bit of a lilt to it, though it was hard to tell for certain with only those two words.

She handed him the cup and saucer, then poured one for Kate. When she moved close to give her the cup, she whispered, “Why don’t you go check on the doctor? He may be ready for you.”

Kate flashed a determined look at her. “In a minute.”

She wouldn’t leave this room until she was satisfied then. Just like Kate.

Robert and Thomas both declined when she offered tea, so Clara settled onto the settee opposite her mother with her own cup. The porcelain warmed her palms, but did nothing to ease the cold numbing her chest.

“I must say, the journey here was quite something.” Mother set her cup on the saucer with barely a clink. “The roads are hardly roads at all in places. It’s hard to fathom that a stagecoach is truly the most desirable means of travel in this country.” She looked to Mr. Sutton, as if for agreement.

He inclined his head but said nothing. He hadn’t touched his tea yet, just held the cup and saucer balanced on one leg while his gaze took in the room.

“I’m sorry the journey was difficult.” The words came automatically, years of training pushing them past her lips even as her mind raced ahead. What did Mother want? Why bring a solicitor all this way if she only intended a social call?

“Oh, it was worth the effort.” Mother’s smile never wavered. “I couldn’t leave Montana Territory without seeing where my daughters had settled. I’m so relieved to find you both in good hands. Men of quality and breeding.” Her gaze flicked to Robert, then Thomas. “Your father would be very proud of you both.”

Robert’s jaw tightened—just slightly—but he inclined his head toward her mother without responding.

Mother took another sip of tea, then glanced at Robert. “I do hope you’ll forgive my earlier concerns. A mother worries, you understand. When one’s daughters travel so far from home to marry men they’ve never met...” She trailed off with a delicate shake of her head. “But I can see now that Providence has blessed them both. Sons of a duke. What more could a mother hope for?”

The words scraped against Clara’s nerves like a blade across skin. Sons of a duke. That was all Mother cared about now. Not whether Clara was happy or safe. Not whether Robert treated her with kindness. Just the title. Just the social standing she could claim when she returned to South Carolina.

“I’m sure you’ll have much to share when you return home.” Kate’s voice held a thick slice of bitterness. “About your daughters’ advantageous marriages.”

Mother’s smile never faltered. “Of course. One can’t help but be proud of such matches.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway above, then the doctor’s voice. “Mrs. Kate, may I have a word?”

Perfect timing.

Thomas accompanied Kate upstairs, leaving only Clara and Robert with her mother and Mr. Sutton.

Her mother watched Kate go with what appeared to be genuine fondness. “She’s going to be a wonderful mother.” She spoke quietly, almost to herself. “She’s always had that in her.”

Clara’s throat tightened. Her mother wasn’t wrong.

She straightened in her seat. The only way to make this excruciating conversation more palatable would be to get her mother talking about friends back at home.