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Agatha nodded her head, then quickly left. While she waited, Tabitha looked around the room. Not much had changed except for some new curtains. Otherwise, everything else was as if she’d never left. A few minutes passed when finally, Agatha returned, but she didn’t look happy.
“I’m sorry, miss, but her ladyship is not ready to receive callers. She asked if you could come back later today or tomorrow.”
A mixture of embarrassment and anger swelled in Tabitha’s chest. How dare her mother refuse to see her own daughter? Did she think to dismiss Tabitha so easily? But that was Lady Bedford’s way, making others wait on her, as if she was the queen herself.
We shall see about that. Tabitha gathered her skirts, pushed past Agatha, and made her way, stamping up the stairs to make her presence known. She thundered down the hall to her mother’s rooms, the outrage barely contained when she burst through the door.
Across the room, Diana Bedford sat at her dressing room table cloaked in her dressing gown, gazing at herself in the mirror. Although she was in her late forties, Tabitha’s mother still tried her best to keep her youthful appearance. Lady Bedford’s greatest fear was losing the battle against time. She cared more about her appearance and social status than her children, most of the time, unless they interfered with her plans, which is exactly what Tabitha had done.
Still looking in the mirror, Lady Bedford addressed her maid. “I thought I said I wouldn’t be receiving callers until later.”
“Mama, you can speak to me directly. I’m standing right here.”
Tabitha tried to stay composed and not give in to her anger at being dismissed. Hadn’t she come to make peace? Already, Tabitha knew it would be an uphill battle. Although the Viscountess would never admit it, her daughter had inherited her stubbornness from her. The women were equally matched in their determination to get their own way with things.
“I have come to see you after two years, Mama. Two years in which you didn’t write, not once.” Her voice rose in agitation. “So, I have come to ask your forgiveness for the way things have turned out. For now, I am staying at Aunt Caroline's. I will not return home unless there is an understanding between us. I’m a grown woman capable of making my own decisions, including when and whom I wish to marry. If you will accept this, then I shall come back home.”
The older lady listened to Tabitha’s speech with quiet nonchalance and borderline boredom. She finally turned around to look directly at her daughter and replied, “You blatantly disobeyed me in the one thing that was dearest to my heart—finding you a husband. You embarrassed both me and your father with your thoughtless actions, and now you seek forgiveness? Is that the way a mature woman acts? No, it is the way a child behaves when they don’t get their way. Well, you will get no forgiveness from me. You threw away the one chance you had for a match—a match that I worked hard to make for you.”
“Yes, Mama, thatyouarranged,” Tabitha exclaimed. “I wanted nothing to do with Lord Vance. But you, as always, disregarded my feelings and opinions and did what you wanted. You do not have me to blame. You have yourself to blame for promising I would accept the proposal without even consulting me.”
Hurt and frustration poured out of Tabitha like a dam which had finally burst free after two long years. Time had not lessened the pain. It was like they had just spoken yesterday in the library during her father’s party. Tabitha was close to tears, but she would not show any weakness, not in view of her mother.
“You didn’t even think to ask me, Mama, not once, what I wanted. What my wishes might be.”
“I’m your mother. It is my duty to make these decisions for you and for you to comply as an obedient daughter. It seems I failed to impart that lesson to you.”
“Oh, I heard the lectures, believe me. They are ingrained in my mind. I simply chose not to listen.” Tabitha lifted her chin. “I can think for myself and make my own decisions, Mama.”
“Yes,” the older woman said in a mocking tone, “and we see how far that has gotten you. Twenty-four years old with no husband and no redeeming qualities to put you forward for even the most desperate of gentlemen.”
Lady Bedford turned back to the mirror, effectively ending the conversation.
Tears trickled down Tabitha’s cheeks. Those words stung more than she would admit, but she knew it was useless to continue the argument. She’d hoped things would turn out differently. Tabitha had been willing to forgive and forget, start fresh. But standing there in her mother’s dressing room like she didn’t exist, Tabitha realized her relationship with her mother may be beyond repair.
With nothing more to say, Tabitha walked toward the door.
“You would have been happy, my dear, married to a man who had money and power to give you a comfortable life. The wife of a marquess would have had every door in London opened to her. Pity you threw it all away.”
Tabitha winced. “Is that all you care about? Money, position, appearances? Well, from now on, you needn’t worry about what appearance your daughter portrays, as I will no longer set foot in this house.”
Tabitha took the last few steps toward the door, where the maid still stood, fixed to the spot since she’d barged in.
After she slammed the door behind her, Tabitha stormed down the hall and descended the steps. A sour taste tickled the back of her throat, but Tabitha swallowed it down, trying to hold back the wave of humiliation at knowing that her own mother would so callously cast her aside. She made her way to the main floor just as the front door opened, and in walked her father.
Lord Bedford was still a handsome middle-aged man, though showing some slight graying at the temples. He didn’t indulge in vices such as drinking or gambling, but instead spent his time in the office. The viscount was a shrewd businessman, never investing in anything until he had thoroughly considered every possible angle. It was what made him sought-after in the financial world for his investment finesse and prowess at evaluating the next best venture.
Tabitha stopped abruptly when she saw her father standing at the bottom of the steps. Instantly, a smile spread across her face as she hurried toward the only man, besides her brother, whom she loved with all her heart.
She flew into her father’s arms and embraced him. He smelled the same, that distinctive mingling of cigars and cologne. Here was where Tabitha felt safe, with her father, where she knew there would be no judgement, no reprimands, only love and understanding.
As Lord Bedford embraced her, Tabitha’s heart rate slowed to its normal tempo and her breathing evened out. The tension released from her body, as she let out a small sob of happiness.
“I’ve missed you so much, Papa.”
Lord Bedford cupped his daughter’s face. “I’ve missed you too, poppet.” He placed a loving kiss on her forehead. “Come on, let’s have a chat.”
They went to the library. How many times had Tabitha poured her heart out to her father in this room? Too many to count at this point. She sat on the couch while her father poured her a small snifter of brandy which Tabitha accepted it with a smile. She sat with the glass, waiting for him to speak.
