Clio’s face softened as she took her free hand and pressed it against Thomas’ cheek. It was a disconcertingly intimate moment to have in the middle of a dinner party.
Cynthia cleared her throat, reclaiming everyone’s attention. ‘I am your sister, and I am right here. Please desist talking about me as if I weren’t present. One cannot live without suffering some amount of pain. You know this better than most, Thomas. But your trials did not triumph over you, and neither will mine. Trust me. I am more capable than you think, and I am tired of people trying to control my choices. Even when they do so out of love.’
‘Bravo.’ The word escaped before Helena could stop it, but the smile lighting Cynthia’s face made her ever so glad she spoke.
Aunt Rowan sipped her glass of wine, her gaze assessing. ‘Siblings are never easy. There is fierce love, but no one knows better how to irritate or enrage. I suppose it’s because our roots are inextricably linked, even if we grow into vastly different trees. What were you and Thomas like as children, Cynthia?’
Blinking at the abrupt change in subject, Cynthia huffed out a breath. ‘Thomas is the better one to ask. My memories of our younger years have always been fuzzy.’
Leaning forward, Aunt Rowan pushed her glass aside. ‘When?’
‘When what?’ Cynthia looked from Aunt Rowan to Helena.
Her aunt was seeking information, but she was guarding her thoughts so Helena couldn’t easily read her.
‘When exactly do your memories become clear?’
Cynthia leaned back in her chair. ‘I suppose when Governess Smithers came.’
Thomas shook his head. ‘That woman was a tyrant. I hated leaving you alone with her when Mother and Father sent me to Eton. You would have been seven, because I had just turned ten. It was ghastly knowing you had to endure Smithers and her birch cane all alone.’
Shrugging, Cynthia played with the edge of a napkin and kept her eyes on the table. ‘It wasn’t so bad. They just wanted me to become a lady. Look how well that worked out.’ Her laughter nearly broke Helena’s guarded heart. ‘I don’t suppose they would be very proud of me now, would they?’
‘They were wrong to force your hand in marrying Hubert, Cyn.’ Thomas tapped his fist on the table. ‘You were a wild thing once. You might not remember, but I do. Always begging me to go on adventures with you in the forest, rolling down the hills until your dress was ruined, sneaking to the stables to whisper secrets to the horses and feed them stolen apples from the kitchen.’
‘It’s no wonder they hired Governess Smithers. I certainly wouldn’t have caught a marquess with such manners.’
‘But you would have been happy,’ Helena murmured.
‘And you were seven when they hired the governess? You’re sure?’ Aunt Rowan reclaimed Cynthia’s attention.
Seven. The age a witch first comes into her powers.
Ellie clapped a hand over her mouth as Clio turned from Thomas to stare at Cynthia.
Hamlet bumped against Helena’s thigh, and she buried her fingers in his soft fur, drawing comfort from her familiar.
‘If Thomas says I was seven, then I must have been seven. I told you, his memories of our childhood are much better than mine. But I do remember Governess Smithers. Her personality was impossible to forget.’
‘Fascinating.’ Aunt Rowan sent Helena a look laden with meaning.
She is a witch. Someone trapped her powers, but magic can’t stay bound forever.
15
‘I hate to break up such a lovely dinner, but morning comes early. Tomorrow, we’ll track down this Lippert fellow and find out what he knows.’ Uncle Lachlan wiped his mouth with the napkin and stood.
Aunt Rowan scowled at him. ‘Of course morning comes early. It would hardly be morning if it came late.’
Cynthia stood as well, forcing Thomas to rise. ‘I should also take my leave. There is much left to pack if I’m to be out of the house before Hubert’s cousin arrives in a fortnight. His lovely wife has already sent a letter expressing her condolences for my loss and asking for the measurements of the front parlour. Apparently, she recalls the decorations from a previous visit and wishes to make over the space post-haste. Lovely woman.’
Clio pushed back her chair, Sir Robin hopping to her shoulder as she joined her husband. ‘She sounds dreadful. But at least when you move into your townhouse, you’ll be closer to Aunt Rowan’s. It will be even easier for us to meet together.’
Helena’s belly tightened at the thought of Cynthia living so close to her. Slipping through the streets in the dead of night, sneaking into Cynthia’s house, tiptoeing up to her room without the staff even knowing… What wicked mischief they could make.
‘Indeed. You are always welcome here.’ Aunt Rowan slowly pushed back her chair and walked to Cynthia, taking both her hands and pressing a kiss on each cheek.
‘Thank you for such a lovely dinner.’
