“Then, Lady, I give you to know that the Duchess’ Grace, your mother, is now in ward under keeping of my father, at Hazelwood Manor, and—”
Lady Basset had risen to her feet, with a strange glow in her eyes.
“My mother!” she said.
“Your Lady and mother, Dame; and she—”
“My mother!” she said, again. “My mother! I thought my mother was dead and buried, years and years ago!”
“Verily, no, Lady; and my Lord Archbishop’s Grace doth most earnestly desire your Ladyship to pay her visit, she being now near death, and your Lord and brother the Duke denying to come unto her.”
The glow deepened in the dark eyes.
“My Lord my brother refused to go to my mother?”
“He did so, Dame.”
“And she is near death?”