“I am truly sorry.” He dabbed at his lips with his linen napkin and then rested it on the table. “How long does she have, if you don’t mind me prying.”
“Who can say? Her doctor cannot divine the future, but perhaps you should talk to her if you wish for more specifics.” The dowager shrugged. “I don’t think she’s even shared with me the true nature of her illness.”
“I will. Thank you.” When he made ready to stand, she laid a hand on his, staying his flight.
“Despite the hectic schedule we maintain here at Ettesmere Park and despite the looming pall of Sophia’s malady, we are glad to have you here, Mr. Mattingly. You are quite a breath of fresh air, and that is exactly what we need right now.”
“That’s appreciated, Lady Ettesmere.” He patted her hand, though that responsibility would grow heavy. “I’ve been around long enough that studying human nature and interactions fascinates me. When a man sits back and observes without wishing to be the center of attention, that man learns much about people.”
And already he’d learned Lady Sophia was imminently unhappy as well as frightened, and her family didn’t know how to adequately set her mind at ease.
Perhaps he could help.
“I suppose it takes an American viewpoint to see us differently.” The smile she offered was small and tight. “Enjoy the remainder of your day, Ambassador. I’m afraid rain will arrive before too long and then you’ll be treated to the typical English weather.”
“It won’t matter a bit, Lady Ettesmere, for this is my holiday, and I look forward to everything that comes my way.” With a nod, he stood, pushed his spectacles back up the bridge of his nose, and then took himself off.
In next to no time, Oliver found Lady Sophia. Indeed, she was ensconced within the strolling gardens set out between the manor house and the maze. Beneath a network of arched trellises, where wild rose bushes and other climbing plants trailed and coiled about the woodwork, she kneeled in the dirt in an effort to pull weeds away from the base of the plants, but her yellow skirts easily made her as cheerful as any of the blooms.
“Would you care for some company, my lady?” he asked in a low voice so he wouldn’t startle her.
When she glanced up at him, pleasure leapt into her green eyes, and the smile that curved her lips immediately banished the worry from his mind. “I would enjoy that immensely, Mr. Mattingly.” Having not worn a bonnet, she wiped at her forehead with the back of a gloved hand. “In the absence of a chair, I can offer you a patch of grass. Or we can walk through the gardens for a bit.”
“No need for all of that. I noted a bench near a grouping of statuary on the way over. Perhaps we can remove to that location and talk.”
“Ah, you are referring to the Garden of Zeus.” She left her spade near the rosebush, and once she’d gained her feet, she brushed the worst of the dirt from her skirts. “My grandfather created that feature. There are five statues in total. Each depicting a different god or goddess.” When she peeled off her soiled gloves, she let them drop to the earth next to the spade. “But there is something about working in the dirt, smelling the richness of it that reminds that me that being alive is nothing to take for granted.”
This was the opening he’d waited for ever since arriving. “This might be overly bold of me, and if it is, please tell me, but your nephew and your mother have both hinted about the fact that you are ill.”
“I wondered if they could keep the secret once a newcomer was thrown into the mix. Perhaps they merely need to talk about it to someone.” At the grouping of statues, she perched on one of the stone benches, and the sun turned her blonde hair into molten gold. Tiny curls at her nape and temples beckoned to him. Were they as soft as they looked? With a sigh, she peered up at him. “As vulgar as it sounds, yes, I expect to perish soon.”
There was no point in dancing about the issue. Not when time was apparently of the essence. “Will you tell me about it?”
“Only if you sit beside me. I don’t relish craning my neck.”
Those dulcet tones as well as the come hither look in her eyes made the decision for him. “Since it’s not every day I’m given the opportunity to sit beside a beautiful woman, of course I’ll do as you bid.” As soon as he settled beside her and the heat of her seeped through his sleeve, budding awareness tripped down his spine.
“Oh, la. You are quite the charmer, Mr. Mattingly.” She swatted playfully at his arm.
“It’s not charm if it’s true.” The lilac scent she wore further enhanced the summertime scene unfolding around them. “Now, tell me why you feel you will die, and too soon, I might add. You seem to be in the bloom of health.”
Her smile was tinged with sadness. “That is what my personal physician has told me.” The lady clenched her hands in her lap and stared at her fingers. “You see, six months ago, I began feeling rather poorly. My chest was tight all the time. I startled easily, was lethargic, or contrary to that, too stimulated. I didn’t show interest in the world around me or my family, would be overheated and lightheaded. To say nothing that my heart—the organ itself and not of a metaphorical sort—ached more often than it didn’t.”
The high spirits he’d had since waking began to plummet the longer she spoke. “What is the prognosis?”
“Other than I’m going to die sooner rather than later?” When her attempt at a joke fell flat, she heaved out a sigh. “However, it’s true. The physician told me to live my life without excitement if I could manage it and without being startled. If I did that, then I could expect to extend my existence perhaps by a few months.”
Good God.“But what sort of life is that?”
For the first time since he’d met her, the smile she flashed was genuine and her expression filled with amusement. “That is exactly what I asked him. I am one and forty, Mr. Mattingly, and up until six months ago, my life has been filled with everything a woman could ever hope to experience. I wished to feel everything that I could, try new things, conduct myself with abandon because we were given a heart in order to do exactly that.” Once more she looked at her hands. “And now that organ is betraying me.”
From the way she described herself, the lady sounded lovely. “How long have you been in the countryside?”
“Perhaps a month?” When she shrugged, the bodice of her simple muslin day dress pulled taut over her full breasts. “But while in London, I did nothing more than keep to my townhouse or visit Arthur’s. I’ve been reduced to existing in a half-state for fear that anything that makes my heart race will kill me. It’s maddening and a tad pathetic.”
“I am deeply sorry to hear that.” How could this vibrant woman manage the wait for death? It would have driven him mad. “Is that why there is unfathomable sadness in your eyes every time I look at you?”
“Why, Mr. Mattingly, just how much time do you spend watching me?” With teasing clear in her voice, her smile widened, and his world tilted.