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older woman prepared two cups of tea. She was taken aback by her ladyship’s comments but squashed the impulse to demand an immediate explanation, not wanting to offend the one person who seemed most willing to help her—even after Lord Silverton’s terse explanation of events in the library a few minutes ago. So Meredith waited, trying not to fidget, as she studied the woman across from her.
    Her ladyship was slight of figure, but had a graceful, upright carriage. Her hair was silvery white, and something about her suggested frailty, but her fine-boned face was unlined and her kind blue eyes, though faded, were sharply observant. Those eyes watched her now with a combination of acumen and sympathy that made Meredith want to squirm in her seat. Her patience finally ran out.
    â€œPardon my impertinence, your ladyship, but could you please tell me why you’ve been expecting my visit? The general”—she hesitated, not wanting to offend Lady Stanton—“the general certainly did not appear to be anticipating my call.”
    â€œMy husband does not know I was in regular communication with my daughter from the time of her marriage to the time of her death.”
    Meredith almost dropped her teacup.
    â€œEveryone supposes that all contact between us ceased after your father and my Elizabeth were married,” Lady Stanton continued calmly. “I would not allow that to be so. I knew, however, that the general would not countenance a correspondence between us. As much as it pained me to deceive him, I kept it secret. It was my impression Elizabeth did not want to appear disloyal to your father, either, so she kept our correspondence secret from him as well.”
    Lady Stanton smiled wryly at Meredith, who knew she looked as stunned as she felt.
    â€œYou are, perhaps, shocked by this. We knew the situation was not ideal, but my daughter and I were very close. The thought of never communicating again was not something either of us could bear.”
    Suddenly, Lady Stanton looked very weary and much older than she had a few minutes ago. She closed her eyes and took a sip of tea, as if to revive herself.
    Meredith reached over and fleetingly touched her hand. “I can only imagine the grief the separation must have caused you.”
    Lady Stanton carefully set her teacup into its saucer, the look of melancholy on her face gradually softening with relief. “Thank you, my dear. She loved you very much, you know. My Elizabeth took just as much pride in your accomplishments as she did in Annabel’s. And you, I believe, were very close to her as well.”
    There was a hint of a question in Lady Stanton’s voice. Meredith’s throat tightened as she recalled those long-ago days when she had felt safe and loved.
    â€œYes, my lady. She was the best of mothers. You must understand that I was quite wild when she took me in hand. My own mother died in childbirth, and Papa was a very indulgent father.”
    Meredith shook her head as she thought of how defiant she had been when Elizabeth Stanton had exerted her gentle control over her errant stepdaughter. “I owe everything to your daughter, ma’am, and I revere and miss her every day of my life.”
    â€œShe would be happy to know that,” replied Lady Stanton. “I know she would be very proud of you for taking such good care of your sister. When we have time, you must tell me about your life together.”
    Her ladyship set her teacup on the table with a little clatter.
    â€œNow to the business at hand. The reason I have been expecting you is that I wrote to your father after Elizabeth’s death, offering him any assistance he might need for you and Annabel. He never replied, but I have always held out hope that you or my granddaughter would someday find your way to me.”
    Meredith thought for a moment she had not heard correctly. How on earth could Papa have neglected to tell her something this