The remains of breakfast were still on a small table, along with a clean plate she guessed was meant to be hers. Her aunt was sitting to one side while Lydia was playing contentedly on the floor. With a doll Scarlett had given her last year. The child looked up at the sound of her footsteps and promptly abandoned the doll to clamber to her feet and scramble over. “Mama!”
“Hello, darling.” Nora swept her daughter up in a hug. “How are you this morning?”
“Feel better.” Lydia smiled. “Lotsa food and Auntie Evelyn is nice.” A brief frown creased her tiny brow. “Where’s Auntie Scarlett?”
“She stayed in London, sweetie. She said we should come see Auntie Evelyn together on our own, because it’s been such a very long time since we’ve seen her.”
“Why?” The childlike innocence tugged at Nora’s heart.
“I should like to know that as well. But first, you should eat something.” Aunt Evelyn gestured to the table. “I had Garner lay out a spread that would keep well for some time, and there is tea in the warmer.”
“Thank you, Aunt Evelyn.” Nora served herself a light meal and tea, then settled in to eat it while Lydia returned to playing with her doll. Nora watched her fondly as she ate, pleased to note that Aunt Evelyn looked almost as enchanted as she felt.
Once she’d finished her meal, Nora moved to the chair beside her aunt. Aunt Evelyn waited until she was settled before she spoke softly. “That dear little girl... I suppose she is the reason for my brother-in-law’s rather abrupt missive four years ago?”
“She is.” Nora swallowed. “Aunt Evelyn, I am sorry. I did not mean…”
“Hush, dear. I know. You made a mistake, like many a young girl has done and will do again. You might have done well to be more careful, but still... what is done is done. All I wish to know is why you did not come to me after you were dismissed from your home.”
Her aunt reached out and took her hand. A soft hand, she noted, with pale skin and the beginnings of wrinkles and translucency. So different from Scarlett’s. “Why didn’t you come to me, Nora dear? I’d have been happy to take you for however long you wished.”
Nora looked down to hide the sting of tears and the lump in her throat. “I... I couldn’t.” She took a shaky breath. “I was so ashamed, and I... I did not want that transfer to you.”
“Nora dear…”
“No. You do not understand... father wanted me to get rid of the child, and I refused. And then he wanted to marry me to Lord Graven, to hide the babe’s status.”
Her aunt gave a delicate lady-like sniff. “Trust my brother-in-law to think of such a simplistic solution and to think it might work. Why, even the most vapid lady of the ton—those flighty chits who couldn’t add three pence together—could do the math and figure out when a child was born, whatever you told them.”
Nora nodded. “I knew that much, and even if they did not question that… a wedding rushed in that way…”
“Would set tongues wagging and make its way to the scandal sheets.” Her aunt nodded sympathetically. “No, you were right not to try that. It would have been worse in the end.”
“And I could not give up Lydia. So I fled to London to avoid bringing further shame to the family.” Nora sniffed back tears. “And I do not regret it. Not at all. Lydia is the most beautiful child, and I am not at all sorry to have kept her.” She kept her voice low so her daughter couldn’t hear.
“You were right to keep her, though you still should have come to me.” Aunt Evelyn patted her hand again. “Still, you’re here now.” Her aunt peered at her with sharp eyes. “And now you’ve rested and eaten, I daresay some time in the garden will do you and the little one both good. You’re far too pale, the pair of you.”
“Oh... Lydia was ill, though I think she might be well now.” The child seemed cheerful and energetic enough.
“Well or not, a little sun and air never hurt a soul.” Her aunt rose from her chair. “Lydia darling, would you like to come with your mother and me to see the flowers in the back garden?”
Lydia bounced to her feet. “Yes, please.”
Nora followed the two of them, watching as Lydia bounded out into the garden and up to the first patch of flowers, some of her aunt’s daylilies. Aunt Evelyn followed along behind her, smiling as she answered the youngster’s stream of questions.
Nora shut the door and followed them in a daze, watching her daughter and her aunt talking in cheerful, happy tones while her own thoughts churned like a milkmaid’s butter urn.
Yes, Lydia was certainly doing better, showing none of the high fever or drowsiness that had characterized her sickness and none of the delirious visions that had so unnerved Scarlett. Whatever the illness had been, it had passed with the breaking of the fever, and Lydia had recovered with the speed that the young were sometimes fortunate enough to possess.
Would that my own ailment could be so easily mended.
She’d known only grief could come from falling in love with Arthur. She should have kept her distance, refused his offer, refused to hope.
Or perhaps, she would have done well to tell him the truth from the beginning that she had a daughter. Then he might not have been so distressed by the news nor so quick to think of her with a lover. At worst, he would have turned away sooner, soon enough that her heart would have been safe.
But what was done was done. She could no more change the past than she could grow wings and fly. Arthur was lost to her. Whether she stayed in Bath, traveled elsewhere, or even returned to London he had sent her away.
“Nora!”