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“Do not laugh at me,” Sir John protested which caused Lord Henderson to laugh all the more.
“She is an utterly bewildering woman,” John frowned, talking almost to himself. “Who could expect a delicate-looking thing like her to be able to ride like that? Or read Greek? Or shoot? I tell you; it is very nearly impossible to define her. She is unfathomable, Henderson, and it is maddening.”
“And yet, she is falling for your scheme, is she not?” pointed out his friend mercilessly. “Therefore, she must be just as childish and gullible as any other young lady.”
“I suppose so,” Sir John murmured, feeling entirely too uneasy at the thought of being proven correct, when he no longer wished to be right.
“In the end,” Henderson said, “you must remember, this is more than a bet. This is your life, Ashbrooke. Do what is right for you, and of course, the lady.”
Sir John nodded, resolved to take his friend’s advice, if only he could figure out what that meant.
* * *
14
Unable to shake the lingering sense of unease that seemed to dog him, Sir John decided the next morning to take the trip out of London to visit his mother. Ostensibly, he could check on her to make sure that she was settled in to the summer cottage and her health had not suffered from the journey. He admitted, to himself at least, that he needed something to distract from his own thoughts. The temptation to arrange another interlude with Lady Charlotte was entirely too strong, and could hardly help him stop thinking about her. If anything, it would make his fascination worse.
When John arrived at the charming little country home, he was pleased to find his mother looking happy, and with more color in her cheeks than even a few short days ago.
“What a lovely surprise,mon Cheri.” Collette, the Dowager Lady Ashbrooke, exclaimed delightedly the moment she caught sight of her tall, handsome son. “I did not think I should be seeing you again for several weeks at least and now here you are.Qu’est-ce qui t’amene ici, mon petit rayon de soleil?”
“I am here to make sure you are comfortable and well,Maman, but I must confess that I needed you to brightenmyday,” Sir John said, used to mentally translating half of his mother’s words when she became excited and lapsed into her native French. “I did bring you a bundle of your favorite sugarplums, if that will make up for my selfish motives?”
“But of course. Come here and let me kiss you, and you can tell me why you need cheering up, my dear boy. What has upset you,mon Coeur?”
Sir John bent low so his mother could place a kiss on his cheeks. Her frail hands on his were a comfort and he remembered how they had clung to one another on the hellish boat ride that got them out of France, a journey that his father did not make with them.
Shortly thereafter, both John and his mother been struck by fever. He had recovered quickly but his mother remained bedridden for weeks very nearly leaving him an orphan, and although she had survived, she remained almost terrifyingly fragile since that day. He remembered praying by her bedside, a boy frightened and alone in his father’s country, before it had become his own. It still frightened him to lose his mother, and he vowed to visit more. She was the only true family he had left and he would take care of her. He would see her safe. The thought brought to bear the sudden feeling of alarm and perhaps the fear of loss that he felt when he saw Charlotte’s horse bolt. He could not go through such terror again. He would not.
“Oh, I would not say troubles exactly,Maman. I believe I am only unsettled, somehow. But first you must tell me, are you well here? Resting enough?”
“I am perfectly fine, silly boy. There is no one quite like Madeleine for company. We sit, we play cards, we read novels or the society pages and gossip to our hearts content. I promise, I feel much better in all of this fresh country air, just as you said I would, Jean.” His mother called him by the French version of his name and patted his cheek lovingly.
“That is good to hear,Maman. I worry about you terribly, you know.”
“Well, you should not,” Collette stroked her son’s hair affectionately. “I amtres bien, as always. I worry for you. You will be all alone when I am gone.”
“Do not speak of your going,” he said harshly. “You are well. You just told me so.”
“Oui.I am well. Now, you must tell me all that has been troubling you.”
“It is nothing, other than I have very little hope of having our property in France released. But I have a very good plan for solving that particular problem, so do not worry yourself over it, I beg you.”
“Thattrouble is sadly, not so new, so I think it must be yourvery good planthat gives you this look of distress,” Lady Ashbrooke guessed shrewdly. “I ask myself, what is the traditional way that a proper young English gentleman solves such a difficulty? He marries a wealthy girl, does he not?”
“That is the traditional solution, yesMaman,” Sir John laughed reluctantly.
“Ah, when yourPèremarried me, oh there was so much wondering. Did he marry me for my wealth? The Ashbrooke’s were an old, respectable family, but they had not so much wealth left, after all, as you know. Or perhaps he married me for love, for why else would a respectable Englishman marry a Frenchwoman? I was once very beautiful,mon Cheri, as well as wealthy, so-”
“You are very beautiful now,Maman,and you know it perfectly well,” John interrupted. Although somewhat thin, the Dowager Lady Ashbrooke had retained her delicate beauty throughout the years, despite her illness and grief. In Sir John’s opinion, the silver hair that now threaded through her rich raven locks only accentuated her fine features all the more.
“Charmer. You have your father’s silver tongue. I will not argue with you on that point; why should I? But society could never quite make up its mind which was the truth, whether yourPèremarried me for money or for love. They gossiped, but gossip often has little to do with truth.”
“Did the gossip ever stop?” John asked thinking he was entering a similar situation, and he knew his mother suffered the harsh tongues of the EnglishTon. “I know it made you sad.”
“TheToncould not make me sad, Jean. They could not touch what was in my heart. Do you understand?”
He was not sure he did.
