Page 17

Lydia

A faint smile tugged at Lydia’s lips, her fingers trembling as they ever-so-softly traced over the burgundy dried hellebore flower.

A flower that had accompanied Malcolm’s valentine for her.

The same petals she had admired when walking with him just shy of a fortnight ago.

She knew it took time for flowers to dry.

Which meant he’d done this before they’d even truly begun.

Thought of her always, even when he’d believed she could never be his.

Tears pricked at her vision, her throat growing tight.

An enthusiastic tug pulled at Lydia’s sleeve, and she cleared the emotion from her throat, turning from where she sat on the settee in the library to face her boisterous daughter.

“My turn, Mama! Read my valentine next!”

Lydia blinked rapidly as a small letter was shaken wildly in her face by her daughter.

She gently pried it from Felicity’s eager grasp and unfolded the crumpled paper.

And despite the untidy scroll of a four-year-old, the message was bold and clear: I luv yoo, Mama.

The misshapen words were surrounded by a lumpy blob that Lydia discerned was meant to be a heart.

“Thank you, darling. It is lovely. And I love you, too.”

“I tried to assist her with the spelling, my lady. But Lady Felicity insisted she do the entire thing herself.”

Lydia glanced up to meet the gaze of their nursemaid, Mrs. Evans, whose eyes were dancing from where she sat on the settee across from Lydia.

It was near impossible to make Lydia’s lively daughter do anything she didn’t want to.

The only person who ever seemed to have any ability in getting Felicity to acquiesce was Freddy.

They were each wrapped around the other’s finger.

Lydia pulled her daughter into her side, and Felicity snuggled into her like a contented kitten. Fitzwilliam stood before her, shifting from foot to foot, his gaze on his fingers fiddling with his own letter.

“Fitzwilliam, love. Do you have a letter for me as well?”

His cheeks reddened, and he hastily shoved his letter in her lap, his gaze glued to the floor.

She opened it, and her heart nearly burst.

You have the prettiest smile of all the Mamas. Love, Fitzwilliam.

“Come here, Fitzwilliam.”

He stepped forward, and she nudged his chin up with her finger, guiding his chubby-cheeked face into line with hers until his distinctive Jennings amber gaze locked on her own.

“Thank you for your sweet words. They make me unimaginably happy.” His cheeks reddened further.

She booped his nose softly. “And your penmanship is improving quite well.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up. “Thank you, Mama,” he said quietly.

At that moment, her eldest son made his way into the library, a letter in hand. “Apologies, I’m late,” he said, slightly breathless.

The settee rocked vigorously, and Felix ran forward, hands flying out to grab his sister’s ankles, which were quickly disappearing along with their owner over the back of the settee.

“Goodness, Felicity. What on earth are you doing?” Lydia said, her hand flying to cover her racing heart.

“I am tumbling,” came her daughter’s muffled voice from behind the piece of furniture. “Like an acrobat.” Her ankles kicked violently. “Let go, Fifi!”

Her brother released her abruptly, and she rolled, surprisingly gracefully, in a somersault onto the rug. She popped up, a face-splitting grin on her face.

Felix glared at her. “I should have let you fall on your head.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Especially after you made me late .”

“What delayed you, darling?” Lydia asked.

“Felicity cut holes in my trousers. In unfortunate places.”

Felicity sniggered. “Arse! On the arse!”

“Lady Felicity!” Nurse Evans chided, eyes growing round.

The woman turned her wide-eyed alarm on Lydia, and Lydia waved off the nursemaid’s concern. It was most definitely not Mrs. Evans’s fault her daughter was wild.

“Perhaps you should take these two outside for a bit of exercise, Mrs. Evans.” She leaned forward over the coffee table and whispered, “If we tire her out enough, perhaps she won’t get herself into any more trouble.”

“Excellent suggestion, my lady.” Mrs. Evans stood and clapped her hands. “Lady Felicity, Mr. Jennings, let us make our way outside. I think a visit to those triplet lambs is in order.”

Felicity sprang up and let out a whoop. “Yes!” she called, already bounding toward the door. “Come, Fitzy. We can race!”

Lydia hid her smile behind her hand as her two youngest children disappeared through the library door with their nursemaid.

When she turned back to Felix, he was standing before her, and her always confident and easy-going son was nearly as nervous as Fitzwilliam usually was.

“Is something amiss, Felix love?”

He shook his head and silently handed her his letter.

She read over it, her smile growing. She was truly blessed with the sweetest children. All with hearts as large as their father’s. Her smile faltered at the last sentence of her son’s valentine.

I hope you will always love me.

Her glance shot to his, one that was dark and guarded. “Of course, I will always love you, Felix. Nothing could ever change that.”

His gaze slid away from hers, and he nodded absently. One she knew was mere motion and not that he truly believed her words.

“What is this about?”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, his fingers pinching and twisting the sides of his brown trousers.

Lydia patted the spot next to her. “Why don’t you sit, darling? Sometimes it’s easier to say the words when you’re not forced to face someone’s gaze.”

He lowered himself stiffly next to her. Well, that wouldn’t do.

She lifted her arm and gestured to the space with her other hand.

“I know you’re eleven and much too old to snuggle with your mama, but it’s Valentine’s Day.

Indulge your mother and let me pretend you’re still my darling boy and not growing into a man much too fast.”

Her heart smiled as he curled into her side. But his hands still fidgeted in his lap.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked softly.

“I feel different,” he whispered. “And I don’t know why.”