“She didn’t want to be boxed back up and shipped to the country,” Nora snapped. “That would have killed her.”
“But she did die, Nora. Bethstilldied. She shouldn’t have dragged you down with her.”
“Beth did no such thing! I loved her and everything I did for her was born of that love.” A murderous gleam crossed Nora’s eyes. “And I regretnothingI gave up for her.”
Thomas had to breathe through the pain caused by that last declaration. His words had been unkind and he recognized that she was only lashing out in response; both of them were already hurting, and the dredging up of old wounds would do no one any good.
Jaw set, he stared down at the vaguely floral pattern of the rug beneath his boots. This hadn’t been what he’d intended in arriving on Nora’s doorstep and he knew he had to resolve this before it resulted in yet another estrangement.
“That was unkind of me; I apologize.”
After a minute’s hesitation, Nora said, “I am sorry as well. You lost Beth, too.”
He nodded once in acceptance, his jaw flexing.
“Is there anything you need?” he asked, stepping closer to her, drawn in by the hint of her scent he’d caught upon entering the room. “May I do anything for you?”
Nora pulled her full lower lip between her teeth and shook her head. Her finger traced the seal on the letter once more.
“Thank you, no.” She paused thoughtfully. “I only wish Beth had had an opportunity to do more in her life. There is nothing to be done about that now.”
He watched her finger trace the wax seal and an idea occurred to him—something that might help both of them heal and, just maybe, come back together.
“What if wecando something for her?” Nora’s head snapped up and he indicated the letter in her hands.
“The arch?” she asked, her beautiful eyes widening. Thomas nodded. “But Beth and I searched as many parks and gardens in and around London as we could. We made countless inquiries and never uncovered so much as a whisper of knowledge where such an arch might be.”
“That does not mean we cannot continue to search.”
“And if we don’t find it?” A fresh wave of tears glistened in her eyes. “I do not think I could bear it if I lost this part of her as well. Right now, it exists as a phantom possibility. The unknown means it might still exist and that—however odd it may be—brings me comfort. If it is somehow confirmed that it was never real…I don’t know how I would weather that on top of everything else.”
Thomas saw her strength begin to flag and, without thinking, he closed the gap between them and enfolded her in his arms, determined to prop her up when she felt she could no longer go on.
He half expected her to push him away and insist she could stand on her own, but she didn’t. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could, buried her face in his chest, and fisted the fabric at his back. One of his hands slid up of its own accord and cupped the back of her head, marveling at the silken strands, and pressed her close. They remained that way for long minutes with Thomas silently comforting Nora, her tears dampening the front of his shirt. He gladly gave her these minutes of uninterrupted and unabashed grief and felt honored that she’d allowed him to witness them.
When she was done, she lifted her head and Thomas handed her a clean handkerchief from his coat pocket.
“What a sight I must make.” Nora swiped at her face, but Thomas didn’t allow her to retreat from him entirely. She felt too good—too right—in his arms for him to allow it.
“You should have seen the mess I made when I received the news of Beth’s passing,” Thomas said, dragging loose chestnut strands from her face. “I’m lucky the club’s owner is a very good friend or else I’d have been banned. As it was, I had to write a rather sizable banknote to repair the damages.”
“You didn’t…” she gasped, rich brown eyes wide and luminous from tears. He took pleasure in the fact that she seemed to have been pulled from her grief for the moment.
“I did.” Thomas allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of holding her closely enough to run his fingers down her spine, savoring the gentle warmth of her skin beneath her dark gown. “And when it was all said and done, I could practically hear Beth’s voice chiding me for making such a big fuss over her.” Nora’s smile was still sadder than he would have liked, but at least she’d stopped crying. It tore him like a dull blade cutting from the inside-out when she did that.
Despite his better judgment, Thomas pressed his lips to the top of her head, scenting the familiar delicious fragrance of her hair, and stepped back. “It has been a long and trying week. I shall leave you to rest, but I will return for you in the morning.” She opened her mouth to protest, but his imperiously arched brow silenced her. “I will not take no for an answer.” With that, he collected his hat and cloak and stepped out into the damp Fall evening.
Nora couldn’t sleep.
For the first time, she wished she had taken up her mother or sisters’ offers to allow her to stay with them for the time being. She’d declined, believing she wanted to be in the place where she was closest to Beth’s memory, but the silence she found instead served only to underscore her permanent absence.
Nora tossed and turned restlessly for hours on end before pacing her bedchamber. The tall windows overlooked the empty street intermittently lit by flickering lanterns that managed to cast only a sickly glow in the night. The daytime drizzle had picked up into a steady rain that shimmered in sheets and pattered against the glass panes like hesitant fingers. Her eyes strayed to the letter on the corner of her writing desk more than once. The seal remained intact.
She’d warred with herself over whether she wished to read her friend’s final words, but, in the end, Nora hadn’t been able to shut the door on the possibility of hearing Beth’s voice in her head one last time. Much like going through with Thomas’s insane plan to search out the arch, to read it would put an end to that possibility and she feared the silence that would be left in its wake. She decided leaving the note unread for the time being was the best choice; she’d read it when she was ready.
Pulling her woolen wrapper more tightly around her shoulders, she wandered over to the hearth to prod the fire into releasing more heat. No matter how many layers she donned or blankets upon the bed, she was unable to capture the sense of warmth she craved. Blaming it on the dreary weather and thick darkness outside would have been simple. Far more difficult was admitting to herself the real reason: She missed Thomas.
Seeing him in the home she’d shared with Beth, being that close to him—being held in his arms and pressed to his chest to bury her face in his heat and scent—had unlocked somethingdeep inside of her…something Nora had fought to ignore for many years now.
