“I have taken a great deal of your time,” she said.
“You have taken none that I wanted elsewhere,” he replied.
“Thank you, Nicholas.” She steadied her gloves. “For telling me.”
“If more questions come, do not polish them first.”
“I will try,” She gave a small nod.
He half-offered his hand, then thought better of it and let it rest on the chair back. “Shall I walk you to the door?”
“No,” she said, with an apologetic smile. “I came by myself. I should like to go the same way.”
“As you please.” He hesitated.
She turned and went to the door. The latch clicked cleanly. She did not hurry, but she did not look back either.
As she walked, her thoughts fell into order.
I want a family,she thought. She would not repeat their parents’ mistakes.
Nicholas had chosen another weather. She could, too. She could be different.
CHAPTER 18
Maria was halfway through a letter when the knocker sounded three brisk times in quick succession.
A maid appeared in the doorway. “Your Grace, you have visitors.”
Maria stood at once. She had been anticipating the arrival of her friends all morning.
“Show them in. And ask for fresh tea, if you please.”
She met them in the drawing room, where they had already been seated by the time that Maria made her way downstairs.
“My dear,” Prudence said, kissing Maria lightly, “it feels as though an entire century has passed since we saw you last.”
“I am certain it is less than that,” Maria smiled. “But I believe you only say that because you missed me.”
“Missed you, I did,” Prudence dissolved into easy laughter. “Is it really that predictable?”
“Not to the untrained eye,” Maria said earnestly. “But I know my friends.”
Charity pressed flowers into Maria’s hands. “For your table. They looked lonely outdoors.”
“How lovely,” Maria said, smelling them before putting them away. “Thank you, dear. You always know how to brighten up a girl's day.”
“And what of me?” came another voice.
“Temperance,” Maria said, smiling, “tell me you have not come to scold me for something I have not done.”
“Not yet,” Temperance answered. “I reserve the right.”
Alethea was the last to speak.
“My dear Maria,” she raised her arms.
“Alethea,” Maria said, “how have you been? We have not met in an age.”