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Lynette bit her bottom lip to keep from retorting the words that jumped into her mind. Instead, she calmly sipped her tea. “As I said, you could sell the property and move to wherever you wished.”
“It’s the one thing I have left of your father, and I’ll keep it until his ne’er-do-well cousin deigns to take up the reins and act like a true baron.” Lines of anxiety sank into her mother’s face, but there was a light of battle in her eyes. “It’s mine for the time being.”
“Very well, then we’ll bake pastries in the hopes it’ll alleviate things for a few months, and we’ll enlist John in helping to hawk the goods. It’s Christmastide and everyone wants to indulge their bellies.”
“Mama makes wonderful apple tarts!” John exclaimed from his position beneath the table. “And sometimes she does a spiced cake that’s so good.”
“Thank you for those kind words, John.” Lynette smiled. Though she lived a simple life now compared to what she’d been raised upon, she enjoyed it, and with her son, it was fulfilling if rather lonely. Every once in a while, she thought that having people about might cheer her. But that had always been a dream of her heart, for she was an only child, as had been her mother. She still longed for a big family around her, and perhaps if she’d made different decisions in the past, she could have had that.
Impatiently, she scrubbed the thoughts from her mind. What was done was done.
“Perhaps while you and John are out selling pastries, perhaps you can find a man in the process. That would improve your situation and perhaps mine.”
Ah, there it was. The criticism she’d expected about her unwed state. “I don’t need a man in my life at this time.” Lynette couldn’t help but roll her eyes to the ceiling... where her gaze alighted on a crack in one corner that displayed a bit of moisture from a leak. “I was in love twice. Neither of those relationships lasted, and I’m not anxious to try again with the same results.”
There was only so much a human heart could take before it broke apart entirely into too many small pieces that couldn’t be mended.
Her mother snorted. “Love.” She snapped her fingers, showing a hole in one of the lacy, fingerless gloves she wore. “Yes, you’ve had that. Now it’s time to marry for position and comfort. Love can’t give you that.”
“There is no point of marrying if there isn’t love present, for then the man would merely be a man.” Lynette finished her tea and gently set the cup in the saucer that rested on the low table in front of her. “Love makes any hardship endurable.” And oh, how she missed having a man’s strong arms about her as she fell asleep at night or the ability to talk to someone about her fears and concerns.
“A man with a fortune who is biddable is better than a poor man with love.” Her mother shook her head. One of her graying brown curls escaped. “The responsibility for saving this house—me—lies on your shoulders, girl. I let you have your way the other two times, but I won’t again. You’ll do what’s right.”
“Or what, you’ll threaten to toss me out?” Lynette cocked an eyebrow, for she couldn’t hold her tongue in ladylike fashion any longer. “I have a life elsewhere, Mother, and I’m only here for a Christmastide visit. Accept my help or don’t, but I refuse to marry for convenience, and I don’t want a man I can boss. Where’s the fun in that?”
“Marriage isn’t supposed to be fun.” Her mother sipped her tea. “By the by, I received an invitation from the Duke of Whittington. He and his family are in residence at Ivy Castle for the Christmastide season, and they would like for me to join the house party.”
“Oh?” A silly little flutter went through her heart at the mention of Ivy Castle. She hadn’t been there since she threw Stephen over long ago, which had destroyed her reputation and made her go into hiding from embarrassment. “Have they ever invited you to such festivities before?”
“Not that I can recollect. However, when I wrote back to the duchess informing her I had to decline because you and John were coming to visit, she replied by asking you both to accompany me.”
Lynette gawked. “Attend a house party? At Ivy Castle?” Her mind reeled. “I’m not certain that’s a good idea.”
Memories assailed her from ten years before. Stephen had been reckless and impulsive, a man of nine and twenty with plenty of Town bronze and charm that had turned her head. Though she’d been a girl of nineteen and enjoying her Come Out year, she’d been thoroughly taken by the young Lord Tilbury.
Those were the days when she and her parents would go to London for the Season. She’d met Stephen at a society event, and from that moment on, they’d been inseparable. Soon after, they were engaged, and the banns read. Oh, she’d been so giddy about landing a viscount during her first Season, and the wedding had been planned down to the last detail. They would wed in London with many friends and acquaintances in attendance... and then he had to talk about having children and planning their future and what they’d do within society.
She’d allowed fear to invade her naïve happiness, and at the last second, she’d jilted him, run from the man as if he’d had the plague. Rumors and gossip had hounded her heels so badly that her parents had no recourse except to remove to Birch House in Warwickshire County until the wagging tongues were done tearing her reputation to shreds.
In the intervening years, she’d never once set eyes on Stephen again, whether from him avoiding any place that she might be or by fortune, she couldn’t say. And now her mother had casually mentioned an invitation to a house party at the castle.
“I’m not certain attending such a thing is a good idea.” She refilled her teacup with a shaking hand but gave up stirring sugar into the amber liquid for she could barely hold the spoon. “No doubt that family has no fond memories of me.”
“And whose fault is that?” A gleeful glitter had entered her mother’s eyes, but Lynette had her doubts it stemmed from good humor. “You had a chance with Lord Tilbury, and you threw him over for reasons you’ve kept to yourself. Perhaps you should attend to see what happened after the mess you made.”
Lynette had no words to respond, for she’d been rendered speechless at the thought of seeing Stephen after all these years. Had he married? Did he have the handful of children he’d wished for? Was he happy? A stab of longing poked at her heart with each question. When her son crept to the edge of the table and took his plate full of sweets, her tongue became unglued. “That was ten years ago. Surely, they have all moved on, as have I.”
“Shall we accept the invitation then? At least we won’t need to heat Birch House for a week or so, nor will you need to hawk pastries on the street.”
There was that.
John poked at her shoulder. “Is it a real castle?”
“Oh, yes. Quite large, with turrets and a hedge maze.” She fought off the heat rising in her cheeks. How many sweet hours had she and Stephen passed in each other’s company while lost in that maze?
“Is there a suit of armor?” her son wanted to know.
“I believe there was at one time. Perhaps they still have it somewhere.”
