Not My Idea (A Gentleman of Misfortune Book One (Rough Draft))

Chapter Eleven

To my surprise, I found Mama sitting at her dressing table when she called for me to enter. Her maid, Simmons, had just finished arranging Mama's hair, looking more than a little pleased with herself. "There you are, Lucas," Mama said, spotting me in her mirror. "You are right on time. Have you been out on Phaeton?"

"I have." My heart swelled with happiness to see her looking better than ever. "I don't think I've seen you so lovely."

"Oh, hush." Despite her criticism, Mama's cheeks flushed with color. "It's time to make good on your promise to take me downstairs. Not to the drawing room but the sitting room. I believe I will need your arm."

"Are you sure you feel up to it?" I watched her face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. "Won't dealing with Rosamund and Philippa tax your strength?"

"Rosamund and Philippa have already gone to Braglow," she said, standing up. She kept her hand on her chair and seemed steady. I stepped over and offered my arm, which she graciously accepted with a smile. "There is an archery competition the ladies planned for today."

After a moment, I remembered my sister and Rosamund talk about it the other night, though I had been doing my best to ignore them both at the time. "Oh, that's right," I said as I helped Mama steady herself. "I'm surprised Philly didn't try to coerce me into going."

"I am glad she did not," Mama said no more as we slowly made our way to the sitting room. There was a distinct limp in her walk that broke my heart as we walked. She was pale and out of breath by the time we arrived. I seated her by the window where the sunlight would shine on her. "Thank you, Luke."

"Is there anything you need?" I asked.

"You might hand me my sewing basket," Mama said, gesturing to where the basket in question sat. As I retrieved it, she coughed, her shoulders shaking. "Thank you. One must always keep up appearances, you know."

That statement raised my suspicions. "Mama, what are you up to?"

"Why must I be 'up to' something?"

"Because I know you all too well, Mama."

Her smile was enigmatic as she drew some piece of needlework out of the basket. "Suspicion doesn't look good on you, Luke," she said in her serene way. "Sit down. I will not give myself a pain in my neck looking up at you while we talk."

Collapsing into the chair by her, I bit back a frustrated groan. Silence fell as Mama began sewing and I watched her. "Mama, I do have a question for you," I said, taking advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself. She sent a glance towards me. "Geoffrey told me about the hole that caused you and Sprite to fall. Did Father say anything about it to you?"

Her hands went still for a moment, and I saw her frown. "Your father wouldn't speak of it." She continued sewing then as she said, "Though you know he has never been pleased with my habit of jumping the gate. He was furious when he learned I had taught all of my children how to do it."

I chuckled as I remembered when Father found out. "And then we taught Miles because it was the shortest way to get from here to Oakcrest," I said with a laugh. As the realization hit, my smile slipped from my face. "It was a shortcut."

"I have no idea how the hole ended up right in front of the gate," Mama said, focusing on her work. "The farmers use the gate all the time, and I know they would have kept it smooth."

She may have said more on the matter, but I stopped listening. Miles and I had always used the gate to get to and from Oakcrest. It would have been the only way he'd know to get there. Maybe the deliberate hole wasn't meant for Mama but Miles. He would have used it when he attempted to repay his debt to Lamotte.