Although he may soon become “papa” to his own child as well. While I have not told him yet, as I have only missed one month, I will have by the time you receive this.
Marrying Thad and leaving London have been the best decisions I have ever made. I know I have made grievous errors before, but these were not the same. Being away from his family, away from being seen as “hopeless,” has allowed Thad to thrive, and I had forgotten how much I love the fells and vales of this place. Our “fondness” for each other has grown into something much deeper and far more satisfying. Thad only misses George, who visited us often at Kirkstone House after you left, and he has come to the Abbey once in late summer.He did not find this place alluring, but he understands why Thad has been so happy here.
I do miss you and Beth. Now that I have your instruction, I will write often to remind you that even the youngest of fools can eventually gain wisdom.
Your ever-loving sister,
Mary
Mary folded the letter, sealed it, and set it aside for the mail, which now came to the Abbey only once a week. She would probably write Kit again before this one went out, but she felt relieved to write out this much of the last few months’ events. Thad had taken almost a month to heal, and they did not consummate their marriage until June, a memory always guaranteed to make Mary smile as well as firing a desire for her husband again.
As it did now.
But she wondered if the six weeks following their wedding did not allow their affection with each other to deepen. They had talked for hours—she had seldom left his bedside as he recovered—learning the most intimate details. And long before he had healed enough for true consummation of the marriage, Mary had discovered how much he enjoyed her touch, her soft caresses. In return, he had explored her body with his hands in ways that made her crave him in ways both startling and thrilling.
And in those six weeks, his parents had not visited once. Nor had they responded to her notes inviting them and providing news of his recovery. His youngest sister came, a wraith of a girl who looked as if a strong wind would put flight to her, but she had been horrified by her brother’s condition—making no secret of it—and had fled after fifteen minutes.
Thad had gone silent, morose, for four days. The abandonment of his sister—his last true tie to his family—had waylaid him in a way more profound than the beating from Bully’s men. He stopped eating, and not even a visit from George had cheered him.
That’s when Mary suggested they move to Kirkstone Abbey. Thad agreed, reluctantly, all enthusiasm having drained from him.
The mere logistics involved in closing the townhouse and moving both their lives to the Abbey had boggled them, and their lives calmed again only after several weeks. They had snipped and hissed at each other, and taking separate bedchambers had allowed each to find their own minds again—although they mostly stayed in hers at this point.
Tapping her note to Kit again, Mary left the front parlor and wandered down the corridor toward the library. Empty. Upstairs, she checked her bedchamber, only to find Raleigh and a chambermaid tidying the room.
“Have you seen Lord Thaddeus?”
Raleigh shook out Mary’s night rail and dressing gown and draped them over one arm. “I believe he went upstairs, my lady.”
Mary thanked her, then paused, gesturing around the room. “Um, will this take much longer?”
Raleigh blinked, then smiled. “Only a few more minutes, my lady.”
Mary returned the grin. “Thank you.”
As expected, Mary found Thad in the nursery, sitting in a rocker with Mina on his lap and a book braced in front of them. Nanny, a lovely woman who had cared for Mina before they had all decamped for London last December, sat in one corner, knitting and occasionally shaking her head at Thad.
As Mary approached, she realized that Thad was reading fromTommy Thumb’s Pretty Song Book, his voice movingthrough the rhymes with a soft sing-song rhythm. Mina, leaning against his chest with one thumb in her mouth, blinked sleepily, her breathing even and her eyelids drifting lower with each blink. When they finally opened no longer and her lips went slack, Mary carefully lifted the book away, and Thad stood, cradling Mina against his body as he moved to lay her down. He stood, gazing down at her as Mary set the book on a low table, then took Thad’s hand. They both nodded at Nanny, then left the nursery, closing the door softly behind them.
In the hall, Thad let out a deep sigh of relief. “She’s been fussy the last couple of days. Nanny thinks she may be getting more teeth.”
Mary urged Thad toward the staircase. “Could be. And she is probably bored. She misses her pony rides.”
“I still cannot believe you put her on a horse so soon.”
“Father held me in front of him when I could barely sit up.”
“You do not remember that.”
Mary grinned. “No, but Mother has tales galore. You would think he was trying to kill us instead of getting us used to horses.” She pulled on his hand again.
“Where are we going?”
“To my—our bedchamber.”
He stopped, peering down at her. “It is ten o’clock in the morning.”
“Yes. I have something I want to talk about, and I want no one overhearing.”
