Evelyn stepped closer, taking Matilda’s hand gently in hers. Her fingers were warm, familiar, and grounding.
“I know it is difficult, dear. I cannot imagine the thought of sharing the honor with him makes you entirely comfortable. But your presence… it means more than you may realize. To me, to the baby, and to all of us who care for you.”
Matilda felt a small, quiet warmth bloom in her chest. Her sister’s words were like sunlight slipping through a cloudy morning. “I only hope I do not make a fool of myself. I am… not accustomed to being surrounded by so much attention, or having responsibilities thrust upon me.”
“You need not worry about that,” Evelyn said gently, her thumb brushing along the back of Matilda’s hand. “You have always been remarkable, without meaning to be. Your strength, your wit, your care… it shines through, Matilda, whether you notice it or not. I wish you could see yourself as I do.”
Matilda’s throat tightened. She met her sister’s gaze and saw only tenderness, patience, and unwavering belief in her. For a long moment, the garden fell away and the rustle of leaves and distant birdcalls were all that remained.
She drew a slow breath. “Perhaps, one day,” she murmured, “I shall learn to believe it myself.”
Evelyn’s hand lingered over Matilda’s as they walked slowly along the garden path, with the late morning sun warming the petals around them.
After a pause, she spoke carefully. “Matilda… may I ask… are you still… certain about the nunnery?”
Matilda’s steps faltered for a moment, though she forced a calm composure. “I am,” she said simply, her grey eyes fixed on a particularly perfect rose bush. “I remain convinced that it is the path I must follow.”
Evelyn’s lips pressed into a thin line, her hand tightening slightly around Matilda’s. A shadow crossed her expression, and there was the echo of a faintest tremor of heartbreak in her eyes.
“I see… I suppose I should not be surprised,” she said softly. “You have always sought your own course, Matilda, and I… I understand. Truly, I do. More than you might know.”
Matilda turned her gaze to her sister, noting the way Evelyn’s green eyes shimmered with both worry and unwavering affection.
“I do not make this choice lightly,” Matilda said gently. “But I cannot ignore the conviction I feel. It is… necessary, for me.”
Evelyn exhaled quietly, a sigh that seemed to carry both sorrow and acceptance. “Then I will not try to sway you, dear sister. I only wish for your happiness, whatever form it may take. If this is what you must do, then I shall support you.”
Matilda felt a lump rise in her throat at the kindness and trust in her sister’s words. She had feared judgment, disappointment, or even sorrowful pleading. Instead, she found patience and love.
“Thank you, Evelyn,” she said softly. “Your support… it means more than I can express. Truly.”
Evelyn’s smile was small but radiant, and she squeezed Matilda’s hand once more. “You shall always have me, Matilda. And Ionly ask one thing: promise me you will be happy, even in your solitude.”
Matilda nodded, and she felt a quiet determination settling over her. “I promise.”
That was when they saw a servant approaching, bowing low and clearing his throat politely. “If your Grace would forgive the interruption, the cook requests your assistance with the menu for the baptism luncheon.”
Evelyn’s lips curved into a small, apologetic smile. “Of course. I must return to the house, then. There is already much to attend to before the guests arrive.”
Matilda inclined her head, watching her sister step lightly back toward the estate. “I shall continue my walk down to the small pond,” she said. “The weather is too lovely to return indoors so soon.”
Evelyn’s smile lingered, warm and affectionate. “Very well, dear sister. Enjoy the peace while you may. And do mind yourself, Matilda.”
“I shall,” Matilda replied softly, as Evelyn disappeared from sight.
With a gentle sigh, Matilda set off along the gravel path that wound through the garden toward the pond. The late morning sun sparkled on the dewy leaves, and a soft breeze stirred thepetals of the flowers around her. Birds sang high in the trees, and the occasional ripple of water echoed from the small pond ahead.
She allowed herself a moment to breathe in the tranquility, the kind of peace that felt almost forbidden in her usual life. Here, in the quiet of the gardens, there was no expectation, no tension, no rakes or whispered gossip only the simple, soothing rhythm of nature.
Matilda’s steps slowed as she neared the water, letting the gentle lapping against the banks fill the silence. She reached down to touch the smooth surface with her fingertips, watching the tiny rings spread across the pond. In that moment, she felt the rare luxury of being entirely alone and entirely herself.
Matilda lingered at the edge of the pond, her fingers tracing the gentle ripples, when a sudden shadow fell across the water.
She looked up and froze.
Chapter Ten
Jasper had barely reached the edge of the Kenton gardens when he spotted Matilda, standing by the pond, with her fingers skimming the water’s surface as if the ripples could carry away her worries.
