“Ah.” The way the woman blinked gave Gwyneth the impression that she heard far more than her answer. She raised her arm and took a book from the basket dangling from it. “I brought you something.”
Gwyneth reached for it. From the wear on the binding, it seemed to be a well-loved tome. “Charlotte Temple. Why was I expecting some scientific treatise?”
Philly laughed. And no dainty society laugh for her, nay. She tossed her head back and let it come from deep within. “I learned long ago not to foist those on unsuspecting guests. Have you read Mrs. Rowson’s work?”
“I have not. A cautionary tale, correct?”
Philly laughed again. “If you ask those who enjoy it, yes. If you ask its critics, it is naught but a seduction novel.”
Chuckling, Gwyneth flipped open the cover and then drew in a startled breath at the familiar script on the endpaper. Mama’s hand, wishing Philly a felicitous birthday. “I did not realize…”
“Mmm.” Philly moved behind her and gripped the ropes of the swing. She pulled Gwyneth back and let her go. “Strange, is it not, to consider how people from such different places can be connected? Both my parents came from largely Loyalist families, and my uncle inherited an estate in England after serving in the British army during the Revolution. We have been working to reconcile the rift all my life, yet here we are at war again.”
Gwyneth traced a finger over the inscription, its ink faded to brown. She scarcely noticed the gentle forward-and-back motion of the swing. “I had forgotten that. But it is how my father came to know your parents, is it not? In New York.”
“Indeed. Mama and your father…” Philly cleared her throat.
Half a smile found its way onto her lips. “I know the story. He was courting her until your father won her away, but they remained friends, all of them, even when it came out that your parents were Patriots.”
“They say it is a testament to your father’s noble heart.”
Gwyneth’s eyes shut again as she felt the earth sway. “I miss him.”
“I imagine.” Soft hands settled on her back when she swung back and pushed her forward again. “I miss my parents when I do not see them often, and Annapolis is near enough that I can visit them whenever I please. It must be much worse for you, being an ocean away.”
An eternity away. Gwyneth gripped the book until her knuckles ached. “And you have your brother here. That is surely a comfort.”
Philly chuckled. “For most of the last decade he was at sea far more than he was home. A regular swashbuckler was our Thad, able to find adventure where a sane person would see none.”
An image took shape behind her eyes of Thaddeus Lane with his boots planted on a ship’s deck, his hands gripping the wheel, an adventurous smile upon his lips. Strange how quickly the picture formed, and how it made her fingers itch for a pencil.
She flexed them, and the cloth cover of the book stole her attention again, reminding her of her mother. Papa had not been a sailor, but he too had been gone frequently on campaign. The separations had never been easy. “How long was he married?”
Perhaps it was too personal a question, but she would rather ask it of his sister than of him.
Philly sighed and gave her another soft push. “Only eight months, and he did not leave her side during it except for a week now and then on a quick run up the coast. Peggy was dying already when they wed. It was, in fact, largely why they wed, so he could care for her. She had no one else and no income.”
A noble act…and yet so very sad. “They obviously had no children, then.”
Philly cleared her throat. “She was with child when she died. ’Tis a topic still quite sore, so we avoid mentioning it.”
“Did it happen recently?”
“Two years ago.” A blustery sigh sounded from behind her. “It was a difficult time all round. Alain was thought to be dead, we lost Peggy, one of Reggie’s cousins was impressed, stolen right from the Virginia shore, I lost another babe…and then the war.”
Gwyneth nodded. Two years ago had been difficult for them too, what with Mama’s sickness coming upon her and Papa still in France.
“But there was good too. Grandmama Caro finally agreed to come live with me and Reggie.”
The smile was so bright in Philly’s voice that Gwyneth felt her lips tug upward in response. “You are close with your grandmother?”
“Very. I ought to have been named after her, but when Papa told her their intentions, she insisted they name me after my mother’s grandmother instead, in an attempt to heal the relationship there.” Something in her voice as she said it…
“Did it work?”
Philly emitted an unamused laugh. “Not a whit. Grandmother Phillippa never would have anything to do with us. But we tried.”