Page 91 of The Queen of Roses

“Adele?” Margot prompted softly.

She started, realizing that her cousin was still hovering near the stack of condolences.

“Thank you, Margot, but no. I don’t feel up to answering them today.”

Margot pursed her lips but said nothing more.

At the sound of someone shouting a greeting in the street, Adele rose, the stiff black crepe of her mourning dress rustling as she moved to the window to edge back the curtain.

“They will be decorating for the Rose Parade,” she said. “It’s incredible to see, all those carriages and floats and marching bands promenading down the road. And the parties! There’s always a great deal of fun to be had.”

“Adele,” said Margot, a slight chiding to her tone. “You are still in deep mourning.”

She sighed. “Never fear, Margot. Not a moment goes by when I am not deeply aware that I am here, cut off from everything.”

Her cousin’s face fell. “I am here with you.”

“I know, dearest,” said Adele, reaching for Margot’s hands and gathering them up in hers. “But how much longer can you be?” Margot shrank back a little bit, but Adele kept hold. “You and James were meant to return to England three weeks ago.”

“We can’t leave you. Not with everything happening here,” said Margot.

“And I thank you for it, but what about your son?”

Immediately, Margot’s eyes began to water.

“Already you have spent Christmas away—and what a gloomy Christmas it was! You must be missing Charles terribly,” Adele said.

“Oh, Adele!” Margot cried. “I miss him every day.”

“And what of James’s parliamentary career? Surely he must return to Westminster.”

“He has not said anything, but I know he must be thinking of it.” Margot sobbed again. “I do not want you to feel as though we were abandoning you in your time of need.”

“You are not abandoning me. Far from it. Your company has been a great balm to me these past weeks.”

Margot gave a little sniff and nodded. “There is something else.”

“Yes?”

“I believe Charles will soon have a brother or sister.”

Adele blinked and then immediately broke into a smile. “You are expecting?”

Margot nodded.

“But that is wonderful news! I suppose that would explain why you have not always felt like yourself during this visit,” said Adele.

“In truth, I didn’t wish to say anything until I was certain, given that you have not…”

Adele let her hands drop into her lap. “It will happen for us when it happens.”

“You will make a wonderful mother one day,” said Margot.

Adele gave a short, sharp laugh. “I am not certain either of us truly believes that, Margot. I will do my duty by Guy, but I am not the kind of woman much burdened with maternal feeling.”

Her cousin offered her a small smile, but it could not obscure the look of pity in Margot’s eyes.

Adele shot to her feet, suddenly suffocated by Margot, her home, her mourning. She needed to leave the room, the house, the entire city. She wanted desperately for company, but she knew that calling for the carriage to take her to even Mrs. Barnes’s home was impossible.