The rest of the day passed in a blur. She wasn’t sure how much time had gone by when she eventually left the conservatory and went down to the dining room. The only thought in her mind was that it didn’t really matter what time it was. She had been avoiding the possibility of meeting Edward at dinner, but he wouldn’t be there now, so she could eat her meals whenever she liked.
It was scant comfort.
She was taken utterly by surprise when she walked into the dining room and saw Margaret sitting at the table.
It had been so long since Lydia and the Dowager Duchess had crossed paths that Lydia had half forgotten Margaret was even a part of this household.
Now, she offered a smile. At least her isolation wouldn’t be as total as she had feared. “Good evening, Margaret.”
“Lydia. How wonderful to see you. I feel as if it’s been a very long time,” Margaret said. “I was beginning to think you didn’t want my company anymore.”
“That isn’t true. I’m very happy to see you. I’ve just been preoccupied.”
Lydia wasn’t about to explain everything Edward had told her about his tumultuous relationship with his stepmother and the way it had made her feel about her friendship with Margaret. Even though they weren’t getting along, her loyalty to Edward wouldn’t permit her to share that.
“Are you joining me for dinner?” Margaret asked.
“I’d be happy to,” Lydia replied, taking a seat. It would certainly be preferable to eating alone.
“That’s wonderful,” Margaret said. “I was worried about what I might do for company while Edward was away. Of course, he would never consider bringing me along on a trip to Bath.”
“Would you have wanted to go?” Lydia asked, surprised.
“Oh, I feel the same way I imagine you do about it,” Margaret said. “It would be awkward for me to spend that much time with Edward—don’t look surprised, I’ve noticed the way you two have been avoiding each other—but it would be an opportunity to travel and see the city. I’m surprised you didn’t go.”
“I wanted to,” Lydia admitted. “We had talked about it. But in the end, he decided against taking me.”
“Don’t take it too much to heart,” Margaret said sympathetically. “He’s like his father in that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was always impossible for me to win my way into my husband’s affections,” Margaret explained. “I was in love with him. I wanted a child with him. I wanted us to have the kind of marriage young girls dream about. But he never wanted any of that. He married me for the sake of appearances—and, of course, so that someone would be around to fill the role of mother to Edward and Colin.”
Lydia recalled Edward saying that Margaret had tried to act as if she was his mother. Edward had resented it, but Margaret made it sound as if her husband had asked her to take on that responsibility. Hearing her side of the story made it seem more complicated, and Lydia found that she could sympathize.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That sounds like a lot to have to take on.”
“Well, it’s really no more difficult than what you’ve faced by marrying into this family,” Margaret replied.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I didn’t have to present myself as a mother figure to anyone.”
“No, but at least that made me feel as if I had a purpose here. I’ve seen the way you are, walking around this house as if you don’t know what you’re doing here. At first, I thought perhaps you were going to have an easy time settling in—it certainly seemed that way when you had the orangery built! It seemed as if you had warmed to your role as Duchess and your place in this house. But since then, you’ve become so quiet and reserved. I’m afraid I don’t quite know what to make of you these days, Lydia. But I can see that you’re not happy.”
“I’ll be all right,” Lydia said. “I wouldn’t want anyone to worry about me. It’s just been a bit difficult trying to understand what Edward wants from me. That’s all.”
“All the men in this family are the same,” Margaret pointed out. “They always have been. My husband got it from his father, and he passed it along to Edward, and I always knew that if Edward had a son, it would mean another generation of the same thing. They don’t love anyone but themselves. They don’t care about anything but their work. My husband’s first wife, Edward’s mother, would have experienced the very same thing. So, you really mustn’t think it’s about you, Lydia. It’s no flaw in you that makes him behave the way he does. It’s just what he was raised to do. It’s what he’s always thought of as the only way to organize his life.”
“You say all the men in the family are like this,” Lydia said.
“That’s right.”
“But Colin isn’t. Colin and Nancy are truly in love.”
Margaret smiled fondly. “Colin was the one I was able to change,” she said. “When I couldn’t have a child of my own, I poured my heart into Edward and Colin, and Colin was the one who was receptive. I think that’s the reason he is the way he is—so much more open and loving than any of the other men in his family. I’m sure it’s my influence.”
“But you say that his father had none of that in him?”
“His father was even worse than Edward,” Margaret said darkly. “When I married him, he knew that my family was struggling financially. My father’s business was on the verge of collapse. As my husband, I thought he would want to help, but he never cared. I had to beg him, over and over, to invest anything at all in my father’s business. He could have done so much more than he did—and he could have done it without making me beg him for it—but that just wasn’t his way. He was more concerned about himself and the money he could earn than he was about how it affected me to have to watch my father struggle so much. It was awful.”
