A Lasting Impression

isn’t—”
    “You are absolutely breathtaking, my dear. And I’ve learned from my son’s letters that you’re quite an accomplished pianist as well. And so well traveled. And your mother, Madame LeVert! I can hardly wait to make her acquaintance. So fine a family my son is marrying into. I’m sure your mother and I will be the very best of friends, just as Adelicia and I have shared a close connection for so many—”
    Gently, but firmly, Sutton took hold of his mother’s hand. “This isn’t Cara Netta, Mother. This is Miss Claire Laurent. She’s Mrs. Acklen’s personal liaison, and she’s my”—he stumbled over what to call her—“ very dear friend. More than that, actually. Far more,” he added, seeing the tiniest light in Claire’s eyes, which vanished when his mother looked at her with suspicion.
    Claire offered a brief curtsy. “Mrs. Monroe, it’s indeed a pleasure, ma’am, to make—”
    “She’s not Cara Netta?”
    “ No, Mother,” Sutton answered, struggling to keep the frustration from his voice. The doctors had said normalcy and lack of agitation were best for her tenuous emotional state. But he’d forgotten how stubborn-minded she could be.
    “But . . . I saw you kissing her.”
    “Yes, you did.”
    “But what are you doing kissing her when you’re engaged to Cara Netta?”
    “Sutton, perhaps I should excuse myself and—”
    “Why, young woman, do you address my son, Mr. Willister Sutton Monroe, in so informal a manner?” His mother turned to him. “Did you not say she was Mrs. Acklen’s liaison? Therefore an employee of this household? Her rank demands that she—”
    “Mother! Your behavior is out of line.” Sutton saw the telling tremble in her chin and regretted the harshness in his voice.
    “Well . . .” She pressed a hand to her bodice. “I’m sorry my presence brings such displeasure to you, son.”
    “I didn’t say that. It’s good to see you again.” And he meant it, for the most part. But in another . . . “I was simply surprised. I would have thought you might have written to inform me you were coming.”
    “I did write you, son. I told you that if your aunt Lorena ever looked at me in that haughty manner again, I was leaving.” She squared her frail shoulders. “So I did. I packed up my things, bought my train ticket, and came home. For good.”
    “For good?” he repeated.
    “Yes.” She looked in Claire’s direction, scowled, and promptly dismissed her presence with a turn of her head. “And now that you’re here, Willister, I’d like to know when you’ll be taking me to my home. I know you’ve been busy, as I read in your letters, but I’m sure you’ve rebuilt the family house by now.”
    Sutton didn’t know where to begin to answer that question, and he certainly didn’t want to do so in front of Claire. Even though she already knew the story. “We can talk about all this later, Mother. For now, let me help you get settled into a guest room.”
    “I’m happily ensconced in a room upstairs. Thank you, son.” She started toward the staircase, then turned an austere look at Claire. “I’d like a pot of tea brought to my room, along with something to eat, please.”
    “Mother, Miss Laur—”
    “It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Monroe,” Claire said, her voice sweet.
    Sutton waited until his mother’s footsteps sounded on the second- floor gallery. “Claire . . .” He sighed, knowing he needed to check on his mother, but he also couldn’t leave Claire without an explanation. “I don’t know what to say. I apologize for all of that. I had no idea she was coming.”
    “That’s all right, Sutton. Honestly. I understand.”
    But he could see that she didn’t. “I think I told you before that my mother has a delicate emotional nature. But she also has a rather eccentric side to her as well.” He glanced toward the stairs. “One that has apparently worsened. She does fairly well when everything goes according to her expectations. But she doesn’t do well with change.”
    “Or”—Claire smiled—“with servants of lesser ranking taking liberties with her son.”
    He smiled in return, knowing she wasn’t serious. But what had just happened wasn’t the least bit humorous to him. “I didn’t tell my mother about the change in my relationship with Cara Netta because I knew it would upset her. And I honestly didn’t think it mattered—for the short term. Because she wasn’t here. But . . .” He exhaled. “She