Her sons would do anything in the world for her. If Charlie and Artemis, in the end, could not find peace between them, he would spend the rest of his life hiding that from his mother. He would not burden her with that heartache, even if it meant carrying that weight all alone.
Chapter Twenty
Artemis could sew exceptionally well,but embroidery was her idea of absolute torture. She loved the look of expertly executed needlepoint. She had a deep appreciation for the skill needed. But she would far rather wield her needle in creating or reworking a gown or pelisse or riding frock. That type of sewing was not considered quite as proper and ladylike. So when the Jonquil sisters-in-law gathered in the drawing room for “a bit of sewing,” she resigned herself to the acceptable variety and endured it as best she could, all while longing to sit with Rose for a spell to undertake one of their projects together.
Lady Marion, a remarkably friendly lady with curly red hair and an air of enthusiastic happiness, spoke as she worked at her needlepoint. “While I am grateful that the other brothers are here to interfere with Philip and my Layton’s usual mischief, I worry that the lot of them under one roof will simply result in absolute devilment.”
“They even pull Harold into the occasional lark,” Sarah said. “I have spent the past dozen or more evensongs praying that Corbin and Jason would be a calming influence.”
Clara smiled at Sarah’s teasing remark but didn’t offer one of her own.
“I have no such hope of good behavior.” Jason’s wife was originally from Spain. The notes of her homeland created a lovely symphony in her words. “They are likely in mischief even as we speak. And Stanley, you will see, will arrive with ideas for more trouble.”
“I fear my brother will only too gladly join in any bit of trouble they undertake,” Artemis said. Linus and his wife, Arabella, were soon to arrive. “I cannot imagine where he got that inclination. The rest of my family are unfailingly well behaved.”
They all laughed at her exaggerated tone, as she had hoped they would. One could not miss that they were fond of each other. Even Sarah, who was the newest member of this exclusive sisterhood, other than Artemis, was at ease and welcomed among them.
Artemis, alone, seemed the outsider. At least it was a familiar role. But she was determined to find her place among them. She would have friends and sisters... and family. But she didn’t know how to claim that. She fell back on her usual approach to being among people: theatrics.
“Your brother and your husband are likely to be up to their ears in mischief,” Lady Marion warned. “They became such fast friends at that house party.”
“My brother is often a troublemaker, yes,” she said in tones of overblown affront. “But the JonquilImarried is not the least prone to scrapes and never lands himself in any sort of predicament.”
That earned her a chorus of laughter. Her entire marriage was “a predicament,” the result of a monumental “scrape.”
She shrugged. “I can’t, for the life of me, understand why you are laughing. Ours is a life so sedate and well behaved that I fear we are actually dying of boredom. You will all have to bury us both whilst giving incredibly tedious eulogies. It will be exceptionally tragic.”
Smiles and warm-hearted teasing answered her bit of silliness, just as she’d hoped. Being dramatic and entertaining was easy and familiar. That this family so quickly embraced it made it something more than a mask. It offered her a feeling of belonging.
Sorrel—Lady Lampton—hadn’t done a great deal of embroidery during their gathering. Her eyes were on the expanse of garden beyond the window as often as they were on her needlework. Artemis was certain the lady hadn’t undertaken more than a half dozen stitches. Here was something they had in common.
As Artemis was sitting directly beside Sorrel, she could address the lady personally and in a lowered voice. “Perhaps tomorrow, should a sewing circle be proposed, we could sneak outside instead and take a stroll about the gardens.”
Sorrel’s eyes remained on the vista, an unmistakable longing in her gaze.
Artemis felt a surge of hope. Here was something she could offer other than a performance. “I do not mind a bit of sewing, but I do adore being out of doors. Few things lift the spirits so entirely.”
“Lampton Park does have lovely grounds,” Sorrel said. “And the Trent runs nearby, offering a bit of unspoiled nature.”
Artemis made a mental note of Sorrel’s affection for nature. The gown she and Rose were designing to meet Sorrel’s unique needs would benefit from that bit of information. They could incorporate the colors and patterns of nature, suiting it even more particularly to her. Artemis didn’t yet feel confident enough to tell her plans to her new sister-in-law, but she had already found enjoyment and a very welcome sense of purpose in the undertaking.
“There is a lake on the Falstone Castle estate,” Artemis said. “It is one of my favorite spots. It is peaceful and, in the spring especially, absolutely beautiful. I like to sit on its banks and enjoy the quiet.”
Sorrel nodded. “Nature is good for the soul.”
Artemis leaned a bit closer, holding back the bubbles of excitement she felt. She’d offered a bit of a glimpse at her quieter and more vulnerable self. She’d reached out in a more personal way than she usually allowed herself to do. And her uncharacteristically personal offering hadn’t been rejected. “We should go for a walk tomorrow.”
But Sorrel’s expression closed off. “I believe I shall remain inside with the others. It would not do to abandon them.”
“Stepping out for an hour would not be considered abandonment.” She knew Sorrel preferred the out of doors. She could see it in her eyes every time she looked out the window. “We wouldn’t go far.”
“I would prefer to remain inside with the others.” Her tone left no room for further discussion.
With the others.That certainly put Artemis in her place. She would do best to slip back into her role of entertainer. Sincerity had not served her well. “Remaining insidewillallow you to more easily learn of your husband’s mischievous plans with his brothers. One cannot overestimate the value of being forewarned about such things.”
All around her, the sisters-in-law chatted amicably about people they knew and things that had happened during their shared time in this family. They asked each other questions that only those who had grown quite close would even know to pose. They were dear to each other, welcomed, embraced. Wanted.
Artemis bent over her embroidery, playing yet another role: that of a lady who adored needlepoint and didn’t feel utterly, utterly alone. Her heart ached in a way that was both emotional and physical. A dull, sad ache she’d begun to fear would never ease.
