Page 9 of Lover
THE NIGHT HAD been unkind to me, and I rose before the sun, having managed only a few hours of restless sleep. Ms. Dillard arrived to lay the fire as I was buttoning my vest. She took one look at me and sighed.
“Well, I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who didn’t catch a wink,” she groused and began her efficient circuit around the room.
“Do I look that terrible?”
“You look tired, and it’s only just begun.”
I’d lain in bed awake through the night, wondering how I should approach today and the next and the next, every second grateful for having this unique opportunity to start again, worried it would still somehow slip through my fingers.
“Yes,” I said, then, “Ms. Dillard, I won’t be taking breakfast in the dining room this morning.”
She halted, a fire poker in hand.
“Are you sure?”
“It might be best if Millie dines alone today, takes in her surroundings unbothered. Perhaps with no distractions, she’ll begin to recognize things. In that vein, after breakfast, you might make yourself scarce for a while and let her wander around the house if she’s going to. See it all for herself.”
“Things are in such a terrible state.” The regret in her voice mirrored the regret heavy in my heart.
“That’s a shame I bear full responsibility for. But now we have a chance to make it right.”
“Do you think she’ll go wandering after being told not to?”
“I’m fairly sure of it.” I didn’t tell her why. No need to worry Ms. Dillard on day one with Millie’s late-night explorations. “Oh, and please see if Felicity would be so kind as to bring my breakfast to the tower.”
My savvy housekeeper finished stoking the fire to life while eyeing me. I’d let no one come near those rooms in ages. I winked at her, trying to break up the dismal cloud still so intent on hanging over both our heads. She clicked her tongue in disapproval and dismissed herself from the room, but there was the ghost of a smile on her lips.
As the early-morning hour bloomed to full daylight, I made my way to our old rooms after being assured by Ms. Dillard that Millie was occupied with breakfast in the dining room.
Golden light puddled through the curtains, turning a faint yellow in the dusty, stale air. They’d need to be replaced, the furniture cleaned, the pictures hung back on the walls. But I was getting ahead of myself. Glancing at the nursery door and enduring the inevitable twinge of pain, I headed to the only other chamber. Our bedroom.
In one of her many fits of whimsy, my mother had the fairytale turret built after I’d successfully entered the world. After so many years of disappointment and heartache, I was a miracle to her, and she dedicated the special retreat to the Good Folk who she believed with all her soul had a hand in making me. When we’d married, my new wife wouldn’t hear of making our suite anywhere else, so it became a home within a home, and we dreamed outrageous dreams and filled the walls with the echoes of our voices—our laughter, arguments, passions, and anguish.
The scent of her perfume still lingered, although it diminished more every day. I’d often come here to open her closet and touch the clothes she wore, having no desire to get rid of them. I pulled back the closet doors now and began riflingthrough her wardrobe, choosing things I’d seen her wear often, her favorite skirts and blouses, the brightly colored robe I’d bought her in Paris during our honeymoon.
When Felicity arrived to deliver breakfast as I’d requested, I had a small pile of things for her to take down to Millie’s room.
“Do you hope it’ll jog her memory?” Felicity asked, running her fingers along the sleeve of the robe fondly.
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
“Why not bring her here?”
I shook my head. “All of this may be too much for her, being so close to the nursery. Besides, she shouldn’t know where the clothes have come from. Without the memories attached, it would not only be insulting, but macabre.”
“It certainly wouldn’t endear you to her,” Felicity agreed.
“Not in the least. So, let’s make sure she doesn’t find out.”
CHAPTER 7
LACK OF SLEEP caught up to me by lunch, and anxious anticipation encouraged my appetite to vanish. My mood had fouled since the morning as my head stirred round with all the ways things could go wrong, and by the time I heard the soft, cautious movements of someone lingering in the hallway, my nerves were lit fuses. Ms. Dillard and Felicity had no reason to sneak, and I’d spotted Rodney from the window making a path across the drive into the gardens.
“Isn’t it unsuitable for a lady to lurk in doorways?” I called, running my eyes over the book I’d opened in front of me to get an idea of what it was about, so I’d have somewhere for us to start.
There was no research, not anymore, and I had already left my position at the university in favor of the family perfumery and my sanity. But a small part of me rejoiced at the prospect of going through this all again, especially if it meant I was spending time with Millie.
She stepped in with a false brightness in her voice, a sure sign her feelings toward me were not charitable. “Afternoon.”
