Page 60 of Becoming Lady Dalton
“The doctor says no. I understand you wanted a coming out. But what if you took cold? Your lungs aren’t suited to the rigors of London.”
Gwen cupped her glass in two long-fingered hands.
“We all die, Piers. It’s how we live that matters.”
He sat silently for a long while, mulling Gwen’s words. For the first time, Piers realized how silence with Viola was like this—comfortable.
“Would you like to meet her?” he asked, choking on the liquid that scalded the back of his throat though it wasn’t warm of itself.
“Mrs. Cartwight? Of course. I love any excuse to mingle. I get the chance so rarely. You know that.” Gwen tipped her glass up. It was half-empty. Piers’ head was already buzzing. How could his sister tolerate drinking more brandy than he had?
“We have been invited to the Briarcliff estate for Christmas. You, me, Emily, and Miss Townsend. Of course, Miss Townsend.” He scowled.
Gwen chuckled. “I don’t understand why you dislike her. She adores you.”
“Horrifying thought.”
“Don’t be unkind.” Gwen’s laughter subsided. “Yes. I’d very much like to share Christmas with your new lady love and her family.”
Piers thought to protest, but there was truth in his sister’s description so he didn’t. He sat with the feeling for a moment. Its warm burn, and sweet ache, couldn’t fill the vast hollow in his chest knowing that Viola was with her family.
He’d been invited to edge into her world, but what held Piers back was his own guilt. Because he hadn’t loved Emilia, in spite of her desperate need for it. Piers had been wrapped up in getting an heir, as quickly as possible, and companionship had been the best he could offer his first wife.
“Emilia loved you,” Gwen offered into the silence as if she could read his thoughts. “I never had the sense you felt the same.”
For several minutes, Piers had no answer. When he spoke again, his voice came out ragged.
“Do you think it’s possible…that if I’d cared Emilia better…or showed it, that she’d be alive today?”
Gwen slipped out of her chair, a dark-haired ghost of futures lost. She bent, and kissed his forehead.
“Piers. Emilia was young and fragile. There was nothing you could have done differently. Don’t let her hold you back from loving better in the future.” She backed away, as pale as a phantom in the gloom. “If Mrs. Cartwright makes you happy, build her a nest instead of a cage. The title will go on if you let yourself be happy. It is designed to do so, regardless of your feelings.”
Of his son, should he have one, being more than a perpetuation of the line. In that moment, he understood Viola’s fleeting, doomed grasp for freedom.
It wasn’t her lighthearted spirit that drew him to her, for beneath, Viola fought demons every bit as hard as his own. It was her unyielding commitment to her family and her willingness to sacrifice herself to achieve happiness—for he had done the same.
But Piers couldn’t hold himself back from feeling anymore.
29
“Are you comfortable, Sam?”Viola asked, although he was clearly not. Sam shifted himself upward in the sleigh, which brought on a coughing fit. Deep snow meant they needed to change horses often, but the clear sky and crisp air helped him breathe. Behind them, the baroness, Piers, and Emily occupied a second vehicle. Following hard on their heels was a third conveyance carrying Gwendolyn and two nurses—one for her, a second for Samuel.
“As I’ll ever be,” he whispered. Disease had reduced his voice to a rasp when he could draw sufficient breath to speak. Dazed on laudanum, he teetered on the edge of awareness when fully awake.
“I’ve a draught in my pocket, when you want it,” she offered. The driver whipped the horse into a trot as cold air burned her cheeks.
“Later. Viola, love ... are you happy with him?”
“With Piers, you mean? Yes, Sam. Very much.”
They rode in silence for some time. Viola tasted snowflakes and blinked away crystals that landed on her eyelashes. Cold winter sunlight burned her eyes when she tried to open them fully.
“You needn’t have been so devoted, Vi.” Coughing. “To me, I mean.”
“I made a promise, Sam.”
“You were but a child.”
