There was a silence that stretched between them, and the sound of crackling firewood filled the air.
“I do hope your mother finds her way. It seems to be a burden on you, and that’s unfair. You’ve done so much to find your place and provide for them,” he said sympathetically.
“I hope the same.” She took a deep breath and glanced towards the door. “I should go.”
They stood up, and he walked her to the foyer.
“My mother is having a dinner party at the end of next week. She wanted to invite you personally but has retired to bed. She wanted me to invite you in her stead,” Henry explained.
“Let her know I’d be delighted to attend. Is there anyone there I’ll know?” she wondered.
“Mostly women from the club, their husbands. People in town,” he said absently.
“I look forward to it. Please tell her thank you for me.”
“Would you like me to see you home?” he asked, a hopeful tone in his question.
“No. Thank you. I can manage.”
“I’ll see you next week then.”
“Good night,” she said softly.
Henry watched her leave in the carriage and closed the door softly. He had not stopped thinking about their time spent by the river and the night he had confused her with a ghost. They had never really discussed the encounter except briefly, and now he learned she was having difficulties with her mother.
He had not met the woman, but he knew what Audrey was like. She was a unique woman who was strong and independent, and he imagined her mother was nothing like that. He had come home to a quiet house that evening, and his mother had hushed him the moment he had entered the foyer.
“Ms. Wakefield is asleep on the sofa,” she had told him.
Henry had walked into the parlor to see Audrey asleep on the couch underneath a blanket. “Why is she asleep?”
Theodocia shrugged. “I don’t think things are going well with her. At home. She is having some concerns with her mother.”
Henry watched the firelight play across Audrey’s face and sighed.
“Would you be a dear and sit with her?” she asked her son.
“Of course,” he said too quickly.
“I’m tired and am going to bed.”
He heard his mother climbing the stairs. Suddenly, he was alone with Audrey. He took a book from the table without caring what it was and sat upon the chair opposite the sofa to read.
He didn’t read a word. Instead, he watched Audrey and her easy breathing as she slept. The rise and fall of her chest beneath the blanket and the eyelashes sweeping down upon her cheeks. She seemed to be sleeping fitfully, and he ached to run his palm across her cheek and feel the satin of her flesh.
He had made a stupid mistake in kissing her that night when he had thought she was a ghost, but he was not sorry he had done it. If anything, he had wanted much more, but that was not possible.
Now that he knew what a difficult time she was having with her mother, he wanted to help her. But he knew she would not allow it. She would handle it on her own as she did most things, but he wanted to share her burdens. He hoped for her family’s sake that it was resolved soon enough.
Audrey put the finishing touches on her hair, added a bit of perfume to her wrists and neck, and surveyed herself in the mirror. She looked presentable enough for Mrs. Ryland’s dinner party. She picked up her gloves and purse in one hand and exited the room.
“Audrey,” her mother called to her from the front parlor.
“Yes, Mother,” she asked, following the sound of her mother’s voice
“Where are you going to?” she wondered.
“I told you earlier in the week and reminded you this morning. I was invited to a dinner party with Mrs. Ryland.”