Chapter 41
“Come in,” my mother called weakly when I rapped upon her door.
I rubbed my thumb over one of the gilt stags beside the latch, then entered.
She was reclining before the hearth on a low sofa. Her maid, Briddy, sat nearby, ready to tend to her needs.
“Hello, Mama.” I came forward and knelt before her, taking her hand. Her fingers felt like brittle twigs, fragile under my grasp. “How are you feeling?”
“Well enough.” She gave me a tremulous smile.
Even as frail as she now was, my mother remained luminously beautiful. My heart twisted, grieving for what we’d never had.
I’d thought that my father would give me the warmth and approval that Mama seemed incapable of. And for a time, he had—but that turned out to be a lie. Maybe an even worse one than Mama’s cool distance.
“You’r
