Chapter One #2
Justina had been old enough last year to make her come-out.
While she had gone to town with Mama and Tray to see all her cousins and their children, she had chosen to pass on a Season.
Verina and a few of her other cousins had talked to her, and Justina had agreed to make her come-out this Season, not expecting anything to come of it because she was not that interested in marriage.
Her art held far more importance to her than finding a husband.
Taking her mother’s hand, she added, “But I would have proudly worn my ballgowns for you to see.”
Her mother’s breathing grew labored, and they ceased their conversation. Bessie arrived with the tea, and Justina added the laudanum into it, stirring carefully.
“Go to the stables, Bessie. Have Lord Traywick return to the house at once.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“I know you are hurting, Mama. Let us put off drinking all of this until Tray comes.”
She gave her mother a sip and then another one, and that seemed to ease her.
Justina bathed her mother’s face in the cool water and then her limbs, talking all the while of different things.
Favorite foods they both enjoyed. How Marcus had learned to crawl and was starting to walk. The latest landscape Justina worked on.
Tray arrived and came to the bed, sitting upon the mattress and taking Mama’s free hand.
“My children,” Mama said, her eyes still glassy, her face bright red. She coughed again, and Justina held the cloth to her mouth. It grew bloody.
“Tell him,” Mama prodded.
Turning to her brother, Justina said, “Dr. Roberts said there is no more to be done for Mama. He has given her laudanum to take.” She swallowed. “Once Mama begins ingesting it, she will get some relief, but she will sleep a good deal of the time. She may not be able to converse much with us.”
“Say your goodbyes to me, my precious boy,” Mama urged.
Tray’s eyes filled with tears. “You know how much I love you, Mama. I hope that one day I will find a wife and love her as much as Papa loved you.”
Justina’s throat grew thick with unshed tears. While her two aunts and uncles had been in conventional, arranged marriages, eight of the ten cousins who had wed had made love matches. Only Tray and she were the final cousins not yet wed.
“We loved well,” Mama agreed. “I only wish I could have had . . . more time with George.” She paused, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks.
“He would be so proud of you, Tray. You are a wonderful earl.” She glanced to Justina.
“And he would have been filled with pride seeing your art, my sweet girl.”
Mama winced, clutching her chest, her body again violently shaken with her coughing fit. Justina watched, biting her lip, hurt filling her because she could not make Mama whole again.
When the coughing spell subsided, Mama ordered, “Give me the laudanum.”
She picked up the teacup, holding it to her mother’s lips. Mama drank all of it and closed her eyes for several minutes. Just when Justina thought Mama had fallen asleep, her eyes opened.
“This may be . . . the last time we talk. I love you both—and Verina—with all my heart. Take care of your sister. It will hurt her . . . not being here with me. But she has Matthew. Marcus. And to my beloved . . . nieces and nephews. Give . . . my love . . . to them all.”
“We will, Mama,” they said in unison.
“No black,” she said, her voice stronger than it had been in weeks. “No . . . mourning. You are living. Do not . . . stop. Because I am gone.”
They continued sitting next to Mama, holding her hand. The laudanum quieted her. Her lips and fingers were still blue, but Justina knew the opium would not change that.
“Did Dr. Roberts say how long she has?” Tray finally asked.
“No. Just that the laudanum will comfort her.”
He glanced at Mama. “She seems to be at peace.”
“She does.”
They continued sitting with her, talking over old times between them.
Mama had been different from most parents of the ton, actively involved in raising her children, and they recalled little things.
Going for walks as Mama pointed out various flowers in the gardens.
How she taught them to ride. Playing with them in the nursery, down on the floor, moving about blocks or tin soldiers.
“I want to be like that with my own children,” Tray confided. “I have seen our cousins and sister wed for love, and it is something I want for myself. Mama and Papa were so happy together. I want that life for myself.”
“I may become the doting aunt as she was,” Justina said. “Marriage has never really appealed to me. I like children. I really have enjoyed going to town the past few Seasons and being with not only our cousins, but all their children, too.”
Tray smiled. “We have Ariadne to thank for that. And Julian.”