Page 50 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess
Chapter Seventeen
“There you are, your ladyship. You look very beautiful, if I do say so myself,” Lucy said, stepping back with a smile.
Patrina allowed herself a nervous smile. The night of the soiree had arrived at last, and the guests would be there at any moment.
She’d chosen a pale lavender gown, trimmed with lace and pearls, with a tight bodice and full, frilled skirts. It was a beautiful gown, but nottooeye-catching. Patrina didn’t particularly want to be the centre of attention tonight. At least, no more than wasabsolutelynecessary. She was fairly sure she would spend most of the evening worrying over Neil.
“Thank you, Lucy,” she said at last. “You can take the rest of the night off, if you wish.”
“That’s kind of you, your ladyship. And behold, you have ample time to occupy before the arrival of the first guests, just as you desired.”
“I appreciate your hard work. Tell me, is Lady Emma Tidemore in her room? I want to speak with her.”
***
Patrina hesitated outside the door to Emma’s room, composing herself. She could hear the low voice of Emma talking to her maid. It would be the easiest thing in the world to just walk away and leave the difficult conversation for another time.
Don’t be so cowardly.
Biting back a sigh, Patrina tapped on the door and waited.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me. It’s Patrina.”
There was a heartbeat of silence before Emma responded.
“Come in.”
It was blunt and hardly welcoming, but Patrina stepped in anyway.
Emma had her back to the door, staring into her dresser mirror, while her maid picked at her already immaculate curls.
“Can I help with anything, Lady Morendale?” Emma asked curtly, voice sharp. Her use of Patrina’s title was pointed, and she bit back a sigh.
“I’d like to speak to you privately, please.”
Emma pressed her lips together but met her maid’s eye and gave a nod. The woman bobbed a curtsey and slipped silently out of the room, closing the door behind her.
The room was quiet. Glancing up, Patrina saw Emma watching her through the mirror.
“Is something not right with the soiree?” Emma asked carefully.
“No, everything is perfect. I… I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday in the music room.”
Emma’s expression tightened. “Not to worry. It was all made quite clear. I am sorry if I overstepped.”
Patrina sighed. “No, you didn’t. And Neil was wrong to say that the house wasmine, orhis, when the truth is that it’s ours. I saw the look on your face, and Cynthia’s, and I’ve been searching for the right way to explain it all to you. This is your home, and it was yours long before it was mine.”
Emma glanced sharply at Patrina, holding her gaze for a long moment. At last, she heaved a sigh, shaking her head.
“Neil spoke that way because he was frustrated. Angry that his wishes were not being respected, angry thatyouwere not being respected,” she admitted. “Thomasin and Clayton are not the best influences when it comes to respecting the wishes of others, and I suppose that I allowed my worry for my son tobe swept away in all of that. I suppose I oweyouan apology, Patrina.”
Patrina sagged in relief. “So, we’re friends again, then?”
Emma smiled wryly, extending a hand. “Of course. I… oh, I can’t explain it. I saw my husband die terribly, and now my son is suffering from the same sickness. It is affecting my mind, I think. Making me act unkindly. I should not have let them keep you out of his sickroom.”
Patrina bit her lip, taking Emma’s hand. “I bear no ill will. I can’t imagine what it’s like, seeing someone you love go through such a thing.”
