Lily rushed to fetch a decanter and glass from his study and handed them to him. He had settled himself in the chair by the fireplace, which wasn’t lit.
“Shall I fetch someone to light it for you?” she asked. His distant gaze told her his thoughts were miles away.
“Sir?” she prompted.
“No, leave it,” he muttered, looking at the dead hearth. “It seems strangely appropriate.”
Lily could see he was troubled, and she wanted to help. There was a terrible pain inside he was trying to hold back.
“Sir, was your mother not well when you saw her?”
“Oh, she was well.” His reply was cold. “Her life has been just fine without me in it.”
“She was not happy to see you?”
Sir Hugo huffed. “She was quite happy to see me. I thought perhaps things would be different between us now. Only she then proce
