Page 73 of Mail-Order Lady

She forced a smile. “How are things in Columbia? Mrs. Pemberton and her daughters—are they well?”

Mother’s face brightened to a warmth that looked almost genuine. “Oh, the Pembertons. Yes, they’re quite well. Though Louise has been beside herself with wedding preparations. Charlotte is engaged to that lawyer’s son—you remember him? The one who clerked for Judge Morrison?”

“I remember.” Though barely. The names and faces had already started blurring in her mind. They’d been surface friendships at best.

“Well, the wedding is set for October, and Louise has been fretting over every detail. The flowers, the dress, the guest list.” Mother waved a hand. “You know how she can be. Always worried about what people will say.”

The irony of that statement nearly made her laugh, but she kept the humor from her expression. “I’m sure it will be lovely.”

“Oh, I’m certain it will be. Though between you and me...” Mother dropped her voice into that confidential tone she used when sharing gossip. “I don’t think Charlotte is entirely pleased with the match. She wanted someone with more prospects, I believe. But her father insisted, and what can a girl do?”

What indeed. Clara’s fingers tightened around her teacup.

Her mother prattled on for another quarter hour, until once again, the doctor’s voice sounded at the top of the stairs.

Mr. Sutton had stayed quiet through all of it. Of course, who needed to talk when her mother took control?

As Mother stood to take her leave, she looked at Robert with the warmth she reserved for men whose approval she’d decided to cultivate. “You’ve been so gracious, Lord Balfour. Truly. I hope you know how glad I am that Clara found her way here.”

Robert inclined his head. The courteous version of his face gave nothing away.

Mr. Sutton moved to the door and held it open for the doctor, then her mother.

But before moving outside, her mother took Clara’s hands in hers. This time the look in her eyes was harder to read. A mix of emotions that might even be real.

“This has been so lovely.” She squeezed Clara’s hands. “I may come for one more visit before I leave town, if you’ll have me. I don’t want to impose today, with Kate still recovering and the brother who’s been ill—” Her gaze slid to the stairs, then back. “But I can’t go home feeling like we’ve only had an afternoon. I want you to know how happy I am for you.”

A knot gathered in her throat. That looked like real love shimmering in Mother’s eyes. If only she could trust it.

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Mother’s smile bloomed, though it had turned a little glassy. “I’ll return tomorrow then for one more visit.”

Clara swallowed. She’d not been agreeing to the visit, only thanking her for those last words. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. One more tense hour, then Mother would return to the life she loved. Far away.

Mother pressed a kiss to Clara’s cheek—warm lips, the familiar scent of rosewater—then released her hands and moved through the doorway.

Mr. Sutton gave a nod toward her and Robert, then followed without a word. Such a strange man.

She and Robert followed them out to the porch, stopping at the top of the stairs. He wrapped a hand around her waist as they watched, and she leaned into him. One thing she and her mother could agree on, Robert was the very best match for her.

The buggy creaked as the doctor handed Mother in. Mr. Sutton settled beside her, and the doctor climbed to his seat and took up the reins.

They watched until the rig disappeared through the trees, following the road to Walnut Springs. It seemed too soon to let out her breath.

But when Robert leaned closer and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, she finally let the tension ease out of her. “She’s gone.”

“She is.”

“She’s coming back tomorrow.” That thought made it hard to breathe again.

“We’ll face it together.” His thumb brushed along her side. Once. Twice. The steady rhythm of it eased her chest.

They would get through one more visit, then all would be well. Surely.

CHAPTER 22

The sound of the buggy wheels fading into the distance didn’t ease the weight pressing against Robert’s ribs.