hadn’t been there at all that she’d noticed. Everyone else remained nearly silent, drifting off to their rooms one by one, stunned by what they’d heard. A few goodnights were said in dull tones.
Lily moved over to the sofa and sat staring at the fire. She’d been only seven years old when the Great War started and eleven when it ended. All she remembered of it was when a distant British cousin had died and there had been a memorial service for him at the family church in New York. She’d never met him, was bored and fidgety. But now she was deeply saddened to know that one of her own—one of the flowers of youth West spoke of—had died a probably horrible death.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand fell lightly on her shoulder. She whirled and saw that it was Lorna Ethridge. Lily had thought she was alone in the room.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your thoughts. Which are no doubt quite dour at the moment, but I wanted a private word with you.”
A private chat right now was the last thing in the world Lily wanted, but she said, “So long as it’s not about the war.“
“No, but a different war of sorts. Addie Jonson is being quite cold and remote to me. I thought she understood and had forgotten and forgiven.”
She paused, waiting for Lily to comment, but Lily said nothing.
“I suppose she’s told you about her relationship with my late husband.“
“A little,“ Lily said. “It’s really none of my business.“
“But if she’s told you her view, I feel obligated to tell you the truth of the matter.”
The fire had burned quite low now and a small log cracked and rolled toward the front of the fireplace. Lily got up to push it back and make sure no sparks had gotten to the rug.
“You see, I really rescued Anthony from her,“ Lorna said to Lily’s back. “I knew poor Addie had no idea of his true feelings. She’s the dearest girl in the world. The dearest woman now, but still a girl then in her thinking. Anthony had been wounded in the war. Did she tell you that?”
Lily merely nodded and brushed at the rug once more. Then turned and sat down on it. She didn’t want to share the sofa with Mrs. Ethridge.
“He’d allowed himself to become far more helpless than he really was. And it was his very helplessness that appealed to a young, healthy woman on the brink of spinsterhood who probably was longing for marriage, if not children. It was she who had suggested their engagement. Anthony admitted to me that he was half frightened of her youth and energy and determination to pretend they were young lovers.”
Lorna stood and delicately wrung her hands. “I suppose, in some way, I felt a similar sense of wanting to save him from himself. But I knew he couldn’t be treated as an invalid or he would be one the rest of his life, however long or short it might be. I tried to ‘buck him up,’ as they say. He liked being treated like a man, a mature man, but still a man. And we had so much more in common.“
“I suppose so,“ Lily said quietly when Lorna again paused for an obligatory reaction.
“We were roughly of an age, Anthony and I. We loved travel. We cared nothing about children and the details of their education, both being childless ourselves. Aside from Anthony, it was the only thing Addie cared deeply about. That, and keeping her various properties in good shape, which was also quite boring to Anthony and me. I don’t doubt that she imagined herself madly in love with him—but it was an illusion. They had nothing to talk about. Anthony said she didn’t even care about good food, which he and I appreciated enormously. He was quite an excellent cook and so was I at the time, although I’ve given it up now.”
Lily was desperate to escape this performance, which she felt had an air of very careful rehearsal about it. She felt she was betraying Addie to even allow herself to hear it.
“I’m sorry for all of you. It must have been horrible,“ Lily said, getting up
Lily moved over to the sofa and sat staring at the fire. She’d been only seven years old when the Great War started and eleven when it ended. All she remembered of it was when a distant British cousin had died and there had been a memorial service for him at the family church in New York. She’d never met him, was bored and fidgety. But now she was deeply saddened to know that one of her own—one of the flowers of youth West spoke of—had died a probably horrible death.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand fell lightly on her shoulder. She whirled and saw that it was Lorna Ethridge. Lily had thought she was alone in the room.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your thoughts. Which are no doubt quite dour at the moment, but I wanted a private word with you.”
A private chat right now was the last thing in the world Lily wanted, but she said, “So long as it’s not about the war.“
“No, but a different war of sorts. Addie Jonson is being quite cold and remote to me. I thought she understood and had forgotten and forgiven.”
She paused, waiting for Lily to comment, but Lily said nothing.
“I suppose she’s told you about her relationship with my late husband.“
“A little,“ Lily said. “It’s really none of my business.“
“But if she’s told you her view, I feel obligated to tell you the truth of the matter.”
The fire had burned quite low now and a small log cracked and rolled toward the front of the fireplace. Lily got up to push it back and make sure no sparks had gotten to the rug.
“You see, I really rescued Anthony from her,“ Lorna said to Lily’s back. “I knew poor Addie had no idea of his true feelings. She’s the dearest girl in the world. The dearest woman now, but still a girl then in her thinking. Anthony had been wounded in the war. Did she tell you that?”
Lily merely nodded and brushed at the rug once more. Then turned and sat down on it. She didn’t want to share the sofa with Mrs. Ethridge.
“He’d allowed himself to become far more helpless than he really was. And it was his very helplessness that appealed to a young, healthy woman on the brink of spinsterhood who probably was longing for marriage, if not children. It was she who had suggested their engagement. Anthony admitted to me that he was half frightened of her youth and energy and determination to pretend they were young lovers.”
Lorna stood and delicately wrung her hands. “I suppose, in some way, I felt a similar sense of wanting to save him from himself. But I knew he couldn’t be treated as an invalid or he would be one the rest of his life, however long or short it might be. I tried to ‘buck him up,’ as they say. He liked being treated like a man, a mature man, but still a man. And we had so much more in common.“
“I suppose so,“ Lily said quietly when Lorna again paused for an obligatory reaction.
“We were roughly of an age, Anthony and I. We loved travel. We cared nothing about children and the details of their education, both being childless ourselves. Aside from Anthony, it was the only thing Addie cared deeply about. That, and keeping her various properties in good shape, which was also quite boring to Anthony and me. I don’t doubt that she imagined herself madly in love with him—but it was an illusion. They had nothing to talk about. Anthony said she didn’t even care about good food, which he and I appreciated enormously. He was quite an excellent cook and so was I at the time, although I’ve given it up now.”
Lily was desperate to escape this performance, which she felt had an air of very careful rehearsal about it. She felt she was betraying Addie to even allow herself to hear it.
“I’m sorry for all of you. It must have been horrible,“ Lily said, getting up
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