This time she had the driver wait while she ran up the steps to her daughter’s townhouse. She pounded frantically on the door, until the butler finally answered the door in his nightgown and cap. “Lady Lipscomb?” He blinked in surprise, although he held the door open for her.

She immediately went inside, but when she was about to ask for her son-in-law, Mari and Robbie appeared at the top of the steps leading to the second floor, dressed in their nightclothes. “Mama?” Marigold’s concerned voice floated down the stairs, and Mena instantly realized how foolish she’d been to come here and unnecessarily upset her pregnant daughter. Had she ever been so selfish?

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Mari flew down the steps and embraced her mother.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. It’s just that Julian and I had an argument, and I didn’t know how to find him, and I was hoping that Robbie might be able to tell me his address so that I can apologize and tell him that I do love him…”

“Mama, you’re rambling.” Marigold wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you come into the parlor? I’ll get you a cup of tea…”

Mena shook her head. “No. It was wrong of me to disrupt you. Forgive me, I’ll just head home now.”

“Marigold’s right.” Her husband stepped forward. “You need to calm down first.”

“But I have a hackney waiting—”

“I’ll send him on his way while you and Mari head to the parlor.”

As he threw on his greatcoat and walked out the door to dispense with her driver, Marigold led Mena to the cheery parlor where a fire still flickered in the grate. She had been here more times than she could count, but the calming shades of blue and cream never failed to relax her.

Mena sat down with a trembling sigh. She still gripped her mask and her reticule, but now she tossed them beside her on the settee. “One would think at my age that I would have enough sense not to ruin one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

Marigold tilted her head where she sat on her other side. “Julian?” she guessed accurately.

“Yes.”

“What happened tonight?”

“Well, I went to the opera.” That part was easy enough to tell. “I had the best seat that one could wish for, but once the performance started, I felt as if a wave of guilt washed over me. Here I was, waiting for some strange man to come claim me, and yet, all I could picture was Julian.”

Her daughter frowned. “He wasn’t there?”

Mena shook her head. “Not that I saw, but then I didn’t stay long. I went to the park and thought a walk would help to clear my thoughts. That’s where Julian found me. He demanded to know what I was doing and—” She broke off and swallowed hard then added softly, “He claims he loves me, Mari.”

“That certainly can’t be what’s wrong. I know that you feel the same.”

“I do, but that’s the problem. He scares me.” She clenched her fists. “No, that came out wrong. What he makes me feel scares me.” She turned her head to regard her daughter. “I don’t think I have it in me to lose someone else that I love.”

Marigold reached out and squeezed her hand. “But that’s the risk we all take when we give our heart to someone. We might get hurt, but that doesn’t mean we should give up on it altogether.” She gentled her tone even further. “Julian cares for you a great deal. I know he would make a good husband. But you have to give him — and you — that chance.”

Mena smiled. “Since when did you become more intelligent than your mother?”

“Since I didn’t let the past haunt me, and I started to look forward to the future.”

“I can’t believe that there is enough love in my heart for Julian, for you take up a large part of it.”

Her daughter’s eyes misted. “I’ll always be here for you, Mama. No matter what.” Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed the hour.

Mena glanced at the clock to see that it read three in the morning. “Merry Christmas, Marigold.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama.”

Day 12

Mena refused Marigold and Robbie’s offer to spend the night, since she only lived a few blocks away. She’d already inconvenienced them enough, she explained, and besides, her own servants would be concerned if she never made it home. She also refused the offer of their carriage, saying that a hackney would be sufficient transportation, as it had brought her there in the first place.

By the time she made it home, Mena was so exhausted that she didn’t even bother to change, but fell on her bed fully dressed in her royal blue gown. Even though she was exhausted, she slept only a few hours before she woke up just after dawn. Her maid’s expression said that she was surprised to see her up and about so early, although she didn’t say anything when Mena requested a bath.

Once she was dressed in a simple green day dress, with her hair pulled back into a matronly bun, Mena descended the stairs. Whether or not her heart bled for Julian this morning, she forced herself to push him from her mind, for there was work to be done. She was hosting Christmas dinner that evening for Marigold and Robbie, as well as her daughter’s in-laws. Since it was the first year Robbie and his parents would be joining them, she wanted it all to go off without a hitch. She didn’t have time to grieve over Julian’s loss or lament the fact that her admirer would forever be unknown because she’d been too much of a coward to meet him.

Mena squared her shoulders and went down to the kitchens to make sure Cook had all the preparations required for the meal that night. Once she was assured all was well, she went to corner Anders about the decorations, but as usual, he had things well organized. Two footmen were already starting to weave greenery through the staircase railings, with mistletoe and holly berries scattered throughout. The scent of laurel tingled Mena’s nose. Normally that was all it took to get her engaged in the Christmas spirit, but unfortunately, she couldn’t manage to summon the appropriate joy.

Mena set her hands on her hips and surveyed the work going on about her. Everything was running smoothly, so in essence, she had nothing left to do. The attic was finished, the library was being restocked as her book orders had arrived, and even Laurence’s chamber had been cleared and renovations were beginning to take place. She’d already decided to redo the parlor, but only after the holidays were over.

So that left only one more room on her list of projects. She had intended to wait for warmer weather for it as well, but since there was no time like the present…

Mena rolled up her sleeves and walked toward the back of the house where the small, glass-enclosed conservatory was located. It took a bit of a struggle to push open the door with its rusty hinges, but she finally gained her way inside. The first thing she noticed was the musty scent of earth and old weeds. The unpleasant odor nearly caused her to regret her decision to start work now, but she was determined to do something, rather than stew in her own regrets all day.

Besides, she rather thought about starting a small, flower garden this spring, so it would have to be cleared out at some point. It was a shame that she had let it fall into such disrepair in the first place, but after Jacob’s death, she’d had little interest in anything, especially nurturing a new, healthy life. The day he died, she’d shut the door and kept it closed with firm instructions that it was to remain untouched.

And she’d kept that vow. Until today.

Three hours passed before Mena finally stood and stretched her aching back muscles. She’d been crouched down all morning, gathering up decaying plants and sending them to the rubbish bin, and then scrubbing the floor. All she had left to do was wipe down the windows and then it was time to haul in new soil, planter boxes…

A bead of perspiration trailed down her forehead, so she lifted her arm to wipe it away — just as a familiar voice broke the silence. “You’ve been quite busy today, I see.”

Mena spun around to spy Julian lounging against the doorway, his green eyes watching her steadily.

She turned and busied herself with tidying up a flowerpot. “I really must speak with Anders about letting strangers into my house without warning.”

“I’m afraid the poor man didn’t have much choice. I rather bullied my way inside.”

Mena wondered if he might have been serious, but when she glanced at him, his eyes were dancing with amusement. The sight only drove the knife deeper into her heart. She took a deep breath, her chest aching from the pain. After last night, she wasn’t sure how to act around him. Or even what to say.

Last night she’d been willing to sell her soul for just a few minutes of his time, so that she might tell him how she felt. But with the clear light of day, those mischievous doubts had returned.

After a brief pause, he asked, “Are you going to ask what I’m doing here?”

Mena frowned lightly. “I imagine you’re here to tell me that your business is concluded and you’re on your way back to America.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re wrong. I’m not going anywhere.”

Mena cast her gaze at the floor.

“I heard that you went to Robbie’s townhouse last night.”

“I did,” she admitted.

“Why?”