After the War Is Over Read Online Free PDF Page B

had to think to summon them to her lips.
    The church’s forecourt cleared rapidly after the service, with most of the congregants
     making the short journey to Ashford House by motorcar or carriage. It was no trouble
     to find Lilly among the thinning crowd, and before she thought better of it, Charlotte
     threw open her arms for her friend’s embrace.
    “Charlotte! You came.”
    “Of course I came. There was never any question of that.”
    “You are coming back to the house with us? I know it will be torture—”
    “Never mind me. You’re the one who is important today. You need me, and so I’ll be
     there.”
    Now Robbie came forward, shaking her hand and offering a gentle smile. “Hello, Charlotte.
     How was your journey?”
    “Very restful, thank you.”
    “I know it’s easier to walk back, but I think it will be too far for Edward. Will
     you come with us in the carriage?” Lilly asked.
    “Thank you. Although if—”
    “Hello, Charlotte,” came a voice from behind.
    She spun around and, in her haste, nearly bumped into the man who had approached her.
    “Lord Cumberland,” she answered. “I am so terribly sorry—”
    “Christ, Charlotte. None of that, not today. Please.” He grinned halfheartedly, but
     there was no humor behind his smile.
    “Edward, then,” she replied, and shook his outstretched hand.
    “Will you come in the carriage with us?” Lilly asked her brother.
    “I suppose. Would rather walk.”
    “I know. But you’ll be on your feet all afternoon, and you know what the doctors said.
     You mustn’t overtax yourself.”
    “Fine. Where is the bloody thing?”
    “Right behind you,” Robbie answered. “So haul your miserable carcass inside and stop
     complaining.”
    The four of them were soon settled inside, the women facing forward and the men sitting
     opposite. Edward immediately closed his eyes, pulled off his hat, and let his head
     loll back against the tufted seat back, while Robbie focused his attention on his
     gloves. Apparently the women would have to do the heavy lifting, as far as conversation
     was concerned, until they arrived at Ashford House.
    “How are you feeling, Lilly?” Charlotte asked.
    “Well enough. I mean, I know I wasn’t terribly close to Papa, but his death was a
     shock all the same.”
    “And your mother?”
    “Cool. Calm. As remote as always.”
    “How has she been treating you?”
    “More or less as she always does—which is to say that she ignores me whenever possible,
     and tolerates me when she cannot ignore me.”
    At this Edward laughed bitterly, but before Charlotte could open her mouth to reply,
     she felt the quelling pat of Lilly’s hand upon her forearm. She turned to her friend,
     who shook her head minutely, and decided to swallow her retort.
    Instead, she tucked Lilly’s arm in hers. “When do you leave for Cumbria?”
    “Late tomorrow morning. Papa’s interment will be on Sunday. Needless to say I’m dreading
     it.”
    “At least we’ll have this evening.”
    “We will. And we won’t have to stay so very long, will we, Edward?”
    “Not long at all,” her brother confirmed. “I told Mama I will remain for one hour
     exactly, and not a minute more. And there’s to be no reception line.”
    The carriage drew to a halt. As they waited for the footman to lower the step, Charlotte
     peered out the window, curious to see if her memories had played her false. They had
     not, for the icily perfect façade of the Belgravia mansion was as unwelcoming as ever.
     If buildings had faces, then Ashford House resembled nothing more than a humorless
     and rigidly austere Roman statesman.
    The carriage door opened. They had arrived.

Chapter 5
    I t had been eight years since Charlotte had last entered Ashford House. Although Lilly
     was at her side, she hesitated a moment at the doorstep, her heart in her throat,
     her hands clammy inside her gloves.
    But there were scores of people behind her, flowing out of their plush