Page 292 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

Only to finally be invited at last!

Paid, trusted,respected.

She stood among her actors on a bustling stage.

On the other side of the curtain, the endless rows of the too-enormous-to-fill amphitheatre were close to overflowing. The audience had come from miles away. Not just nearby villages, but from othershires, even from across the nearby border to Scotland.

Estelle had hoped to one day use the name she was building for herself in Cressmouth to prove herself capable to all of the naysayers in London. At this rate, they’d have the news tomorrow in their morning paper.

Everything was coming true.

“Breathe, darling,” said her mother, lifting a liver-spotted hand to tame a stray tendril of Estelle’s hair.

“They won’t be looking atme,” Estelle said with a chuckle. “I’ll be in the wings and out of sight.”

“They’ll be looking at you after the play, when you join the actors to take your curtsey,” Mother replied.

“Directors don’t bow with their actors,” said Estelle, but her breath caught at the idea. Should she?Couldshe?

“You earned it,” said her mother. “Mr. Marlowe was clever enough to give you the opportunity you deserved, butyoucreated this.” She gestured at the actors in their glorious costumes, at the muffled roar of the crowd on the other side of the curtain. “This isyou.”

“Do you realize what this means?” Estelle grabbed her mother’s hands, doing her best not to bounce with excitement. “With doubled wages, we can leave here sooner than I thought. You can quit your post tomorrow! If tonight is any indication of things to come, by the end of the festive season, I’ll be able to march back to Drury Lane and receive amuchdifferent welcome than the last time.”

Her mother was still smiling, but the expression was now bittersweet.

“You should do that, if it makes you happy.” Mother slipped her hands from Estelle’s. “I have a post here.”

Estelle chuckled. “Mother, you needn’t tidy other people’s messes anymore. I’ll be able to afford lodgings in London. Nice rooms for us both. You’ll have a life of leisure and never have to pick up a broom or a dustpan again.”

Her mother’s smile faded.

“Ienjoybeing head housekeeper,” she said quietly. “It is a good position. I am well paid. Respected. Iearnedthis.Me. I sent you to London with my broom and dustpan, and now I’m living in a fairy-tale castle for the same reason. IlikeCressmouth. I have every comfort attended to, and I’m useful.Important. Why would I leave that behind?”

Estelle’s throat closed.

“Mother,” she said. Her voice cracked. The word was barely audible. Estelle’s eyes stung with heat.

She was not her mother’s savior.

Mother didn’t need or want one.

How insufferably arrogant to assume otherwise.

All this time, Estelle had been treating her mother’s perspective in the same dismissive way Aaron had treated hers. As though Marlowe Castle’s head housekeeper Mrs. Blair was someone who needed rescuing, rather than a full person who was already complete in her own right.

Estelle knew exactly how terrible it felt to be the recipient of such well-meaning condescension.

“Thisisa life of leisure,” Mother continued softly. “I live in a gorgeous suite free of charge, in a friendly village with a beautiful panorama. The castle boasts a lending library with more books than I could ever read. Bountiful food and drink is provided around the clock, thanks to your Mr. Thompson. I’m useful. I’mhappy. This is my home.”

Estell’s tongue grew thick. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. You shouldn’t have to give up what you want for me. That isn’t even whatIwant. You’ve sacrificed so much for me all of my life. I was concentrating so hard on doing whatever I could to give youyourbest life, I didn’t realize that you already had it.”

“A regrettably easy error to make,” came a wry, deep voice from the edge of the closed curtain.

Estelle spun to see Aaron standing in the wings, a single yellow rose in one hand.

She narrowed her eyes. “Did you nick that from the glasshouse?”

He nodded. “Yes. Do you like it?”

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