“. . . I do not tell you often enough, dear Mother, how very grateful I am that I am yours. It is a rare parent who would offer a child such latitude and understanding. It is an even rarer one who calls a daughter friend. I do love you, dear Mama.”

“But just for the sake of argument, let's say I am cornered. Or perhaps I am in the middle of a crowded ballroom and do not want to make a scene. If you were flirting with a young lady who had just told you not to call her sweetheart, what would you do?""I would accede to her wishes and bid her good night," he said starchily."You would not!" Henry accused with a playful smile. "You're a terrible rake, Dunford. Belle told me.""Belle talks too much," he muttered.”

“I do love it when I am right,” Hyacinth said triumphantly.“Which is fortunate, since I so often am.”Penelope just looked at her. “You do know that you areinsufferable.”“Of course.” Hyacinth leaned toward Penelope with adevilish smile. “But you love me, anyway, admit it.”“I admit nothing until the end of the evening.”“After we have both gone deaf?”“After we see if you behave yourself.”Hyacinth laughed. “You married into the family. Youhave to love me. It’s a contractual obligation.”“Funny how I don’t recall that in the wedding vows.”“Funny,” Hyacinth returned, “I remember it perfectly”

“Mother,” Hyacinth said with a great show of solicitude,“you know I love you dearly—”“Why is it,” Violet pondered, “that I have come to expectnothing good when I hear a sentence beginning inthat manner?”

“I love you with everything I am, everything I've been, and everything I hope to be. I love you with my past, and I love you for my future. I love you for the children we'll have and for the years we'll have together. I love you for every one of my smiles and even more, for every one of your smiles.”

“I am asking you to marry me because I love you,” he said, “because I cannot imagine living my life without you. I want to see your face in the morning, and then at night, and a hundred times in between. I want to grow old with you, I want to laugh with you, and I want to sigh to my friends about how managing you are, all the while secretly knowing I am the luckiest man in town.”“What?” she demanded.He shrugged. “A man’s got to keep up appearances. I’ll be universally detested if everyone realizes how perfect you are.”

“But that’s not what I’m trying to tell you,” Violet said, her eyes taking on a slightly determined expression. “What I’m trying to say is that when you were born, and they put you into my arms—it’s strange, because for some reason I was so convinced you would look just like your father. I thought for certain I would look down and see his face, and it would be some sort of sign from heaven.”Hyacinth’s breath caught as she watched her, and she wondered why her mother had never told her this story. And why she’d never asked.“But you didn’t,” Violet continued. “You looked rather like me. And then—oh my, I remember this as if it were yesterday—you looked into my eyes, and you blinked. Twice.”“Twice?” Hyacinth echoed, wondering why this was important.“Twice.” Violet looked at her, her lips curving into a funny little smile. “I only remember it because you looked so deliberate. It was the strangest thing. You gave me a look as if to say, ‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’ ”A little burst of air rushed past Hyacinth’s lips, and she realized it was a laugh. A small one, the kind that takes a body by surprise.“And then you let out a wail,” Violet said, shaking her head. “My heavens, I thought you were going to shake the paint right off the walls. And I smiled. It was the first time since your father died that I smiled.”Violet took a breath, then reached for her tea. Hyacinth watched as her mother composed herself, wanting desperately to ask her to continue, but somehow knowing the moment called for silence.For a full minute Hyacinth waited, and then finally her mother said, softly, “And from that moment on, you were so dear to me. I love all my children, but you…” She looked up, her eyes catching Hyacinth’s. “You saved me.”Something squeezed in Hyacinth’s chest. She couldn’t quite move, couldn’t quite breathe. She could only watch her mother’s face, listen to her words, and be so very, very grateful that she’d been lucky enough to be her child.“In some ways I was a little too protective of you,” Violet said, her lips forming the tiniest of smiles, “and at the same time too lenient. You were so exuberant, so completely sure of who you were and how you fit into the world around you. You were a force of nature, and I didn’t want to clip your wings.”“Thank you,” Hyacinth whispered, but the words were so soft, she wasn’t even sure she’d said them aloud.”