“S ay yes.”
Peggy stopped and turned slowly at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Were you listening?” she asked.
“Forgive me, I was,” her mother said softly as she entered the room. “You should go, and you should stop him immediately.”
“Mama, I am doing what you have told me to do.”
“I know,” her mother said. “You are being a good daughter. You are listening to me. You have taken my advice. Now take my advice again. Go stop him and say yes.”
“Say yes to what?” she demanded.
“He loves you.”
“Papa loved you,” she bit out, dashing the tears from her face. “That’s what you always said. And then he threw you out.”
Her mother sighed, but this time her shoulders did not sag. No, they stayed back, as if being here in the Briarwood house had given her back her pride. “He never actually loved me, my dear. He loved the idea of a beautiful mistress in a silk gown in a pretty part of town that he could go and visit, away from his actual wife.”
Her mother reached out and took her hand, patting it. “Maximus wants to make you his wife. I’m certain.”
“You heard him,” she returned. “He didn’t ask me to marry him, Mama.”
“Yes, he did, my dear.” Her mother gestured to the hall. “Did you see what he did out in that ballroom? He may not have said the words explicitly, but I will tell you this. He danced with you all of those times so that you understood that he wanted you for his wife. Because if he did not intend that, what he did would’ve ruined you. And that man? The way he just spoke to you. It’s clear he has no intention of ruining you. You are his lifeline.”
“A lifeline?” she gasped, shaking her head, trying to take it all in.
“Did you not hear him, my love? You are his peace. People search a lifetime for that and never find it. He came to me today, and he told me what he intended. I could scarce believe it and feared it was but a dream, an illusion. But he is not a dream. This is real, Peggy.”
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears, but they were not tears of sorrow. They were tears of joy.
“Oh, Mama,” she exclaimed, unable to stop her own tears from slipping down her cheeks again, “I’m so afraid though. What if it all fails? What if—”
“My dear, I understand,” her mother rushed. “I have lived my life from one calamity to the next. So has your grandmother. But Maximus is not trying to leave you. All this suffering is my fault. You won’t take his offer because of me.”
“No, Mama,” she protested automatically, not wishing her mother to suffer. “That is not true.”
“It is,” her mother countered, pulling her into an embrace, as if she was little girl again. “I taught you from a very small age not to give yourself. You were only doing what you were taught. You are withholding yourself from him. From love. From joy. You are ready to run. You are prepared in case things go terribly wrong. But Peggy,” she said, stroking her hair, “nothing is going wrong, and you are trying to run. I am so sorry that I did that to you.”
She wrapped her arms about her mother, savoring this moment. “Mama, you do not have anything to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do,” her mother said seriously, her hand stilling.
“No,” she rushed, desperate that her mother not know such guilt when she’d suffered so much.
Her mother stopped her, taking her face gently in her withered hands. “Every day that I’m here at Heron House, I understand something a little bit more.”
She blinked. “What is it?”
Her mother’s lips bowed with sorrow. “My purpose was to raise you so that you were not afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said. “I’m so brave, Mama.”
“Yes, you are, my darling,” her mother managed as her voice shook. “But I’ve raised you to think that love would forever be out of your reach. That it wasn’t possible. But it was only not possible for me, and for your grandmother. But we are only two people in the entire world, and we chose poorly.”
Her mother’s shoulders shook ever so slightly, but she no longer appeared broken. She stood strong, proud of her child. “Perhaps we didn’t even have a choice, really. But you are being given the chance. And if you throw it away, my God, I will not be able to live this down. I will not care if you take me to America, set me up in a good house there, and we live free and fine, because Maximus and his world will have been waiting for you. This family, this house, this place, this man? They are your destiny, not a life alone in a land you don’t know.”
“Mama. But what if—”
“What if what?” she said.
Peggy forced herself to speak her fear. “What if everyone hates me for taking him when I am so unworthy of him?”
“Oh, my love,” her mother gasped. “How can you say such a thing about yourself?”
“Because it is the way of the world,” Peggy’s grandmother said from the doorway.
Peggy turned to her grandmother, who stood hunched but happy. Her hair was wild and silvery about her face, a shawl was draped over her shoulders, and a beautiful new cane was clutched in her gnarled hand.
Her grandmother tottered into the room. The weeks with the Briarwoods had improved much of her pain. Good food, warm clothes, the sun, and rooms that were free of damp had done her wonders. As had having a purpose and returning to the works of the playwrights she loved so well.
“Do not dismiss her fears, Rebecca. She’s not wrong. And I’m glad, my darling daughter, that you are not always right.” Her grandmother blew out a tired breath. “Perhaps we could argue that I have failed you both. It started with me, but I think it’s ending here. But I think if we ignore Peggy’s fears, they shall only compound. She is the daughter of a courtesan. Rebecca, you are the daughter of a courtesan. We are not just actresses. If she marries the son of an earl and becomes a countess, will she truly be able to live in that world? I say yes, but—”
“Of course she will,” said a voice from behind her.
Peggy whipped around and spotted the dowager duchess in her gown of silver and amethyst silk.
“Is this a parade?” Peggy asked, unable to stop herself.
The dowager duchess sailed into the room, beaming at her ability to tease. “Quite possibly and one of considerably remarkable women. Your grandmother is not wrong. Your mother is not wrong. You are not wrong. Isn’t it remarkable how so many truths can exist, but not all of it is accurate? There’s so much fear of the future in this room. But there’s one thing that’s absolutely true, and I think that, Liza, you’ll agree with me on this. We cannot know what the future will bring, so trying to predict it is very ridiculous. Do you love being with Maximus?” the dowager duchess asked Peggy.
She did not have to think twice, so she admitted without hesitation, “Yes, I do. But what role do I have here in this world? I have not been raised to be his countess, and it requires a very specific upbringing to fit into the ton. I know that simply by having masqueraded in it.”
“Good.” The dowager nodded with pleasure. “Then you shall know how to navigate it, even if you are not a part of it. Our family is apart from the true world of the ton, and we are happier that way. We do not seek their approval. We do not fight to belong. We have land, we have power, we have money.
“And you, my dear, have many skills to offer, but the first and foremost of them is that you love my son.”
Peggy sucked in a sharp breath as a woman entered with russet hair and a plain face. Her eyes shone with love and determination.
“I have not yet been able to make your acquaintance,” Lady Hermia said. “But my son demanded that we come to the ball this evening to meet you.”
“He did what?” she gasped.
Lady Hermia nodded. “Yes, because he’s let his father and I know that he wishes to marry you. That he wishes to make you the Countess of Drexel when it’s time. My husband, well, he was raised without the Briarwoods, but he’s now been with us for twenty-some-odd years. And the one thing that he and I want more than anything in the world is for Maximus to be happy.”
Lady Hermia’s smile dimmed, and a shadow crossed over her face. “You see, we almost lost him. He could have died easily on the Continent. Do you know what it took to let him go to war? To fight for what he believed in so much? I feared every day that we might get a letter that he was dead. Earls’ sons aren’t supposed to go to war. I should have been spared that fear, but instead I was given sons with great hearts and principles, and my son, with his great heart and principles, wants you. He’s going to fight for you just like he fought for the honor to go to war.”
Lady Hermia drew in a long breath and strode across the room. When she stood just before Peggy, she declared fiercely, “And I will not stand in his way, nor will his father. I want you to understand that now. We do not want some paper cut-out doll to be his countess. We want the woman who has clearly brought him back to life. He was so good at making everyone think that he was all right. But I knew he wasn’t. My mother here, the dowager duchess, knew he wasn’t, and he knew it too. But you’ve changed all that, and we are not going to let you go. Not without a fight.”
The dowager duchess nodded. “It’s true.”
Her grandmother gave her a look. “Are you really going to try and run away now with so many people who wish you to stay?”
Her mother took her hand again. “You see, my dear? It doesn’t always have to be as it always has been. I’m sorry that I made you think it did.”
“Grandmama,” Peggy began, looking to Liza, “you are the one voice of reason in this room. You are the one who understands. You see that I won’t fit—”
“I am the one who’s telling you that there are obstacles,” her grandmother cut in, her wrinkled visage softening. “I will not tell you a pretty fairy tale story. That is just silliness. But if his mother says yes, and his grandmother says yes, and his father says yes, and he says yes, and you are the only person saying no, then you are the one abandoning him, my dear. You are taking up the cruelty that was passed to your mother and I, not he. Do not let that be your inheritance. Choose something better. Something more.”
She swung her gaze about the room. “I don’t know how,” she said.
“Then we will teach you,” said the dowager duchess.
“Teach her what?” a voice piped. Cymbeline darted into the room. “My goodness. Is this a tête-a-tête? What’s happening?”
“We’re welcoming her to the family,” Lady Hermia said with a smile.
Cymbeline beamed. “I did that already this afternoon, but I’m glad to know that it’s official.”
“It’s not official,” Peggy exclaimed.
Cymbeline winked at her. “If Aunt Hermia says it’s official, it’s most certainly official. Has he not asked you to marry him?”
“Not exactly,” she ventured. “I gave him a rather difficult time.”
Cymbeline looked horrified, but then she gave a nod of certainty. “Then you must go after him at once!”
“What?” Peggy could scarce contemplate how quickly things were changing this night. She felt overwhelmed, full of emotion, and confused… Confused about all but one thing. Maximus.
But would he have her now? After she had…
“Be bold,” Cymbeline insisted. “You always have been. Why stop now?” Cymbeline gave her a merry grin.
Peggy turned slowly to the women in the room. “Should I?”
“No,” a voice tumbled from the door. “You shouldn’t.”
Maximus. He stood there, power and emotion emanating from his perfectly attired being.
“This is the wildest night of my life,” she blurted.
“Even wilder than the night we met?” he asked softly.
“By far,” she whispered to a room so silent now that one could have heard a mouse in a corner…or a thief hiding in the closet.
As he drew in a breath, his shoulders expanded against his black evening coat. “It’s going to get wilder. Because I have something to say.”