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After I retrieved the valises, I returned to Thea’s chamber and opened the door. It creaked softly, and I reached in and set her bag on the floor exactly as I’d told her I would. Moonlight slanted through the window, highlighting her small, sleeping form on the bed. Her face was raised toward the light, and in sleep she appeared angelic, the soft curve of her cheek and gentle slope of her mouth resting in complete contentedness. She was beautiful. I could admit so in the quiet of night and the safety of my own thoughts. I’d often wondered what it would feel like to hold her, to grasp the wild nature of Thea in my hands and follow her along her untamed joy. She exuded happiness in a way I had always envied. I did not want to contain it, but rather to beg permission to bask in it.
It wasn’t to be, though, for the woman hated me. Despised me with the depth that only one of such vivacity and brightness of feeling could. Thea did notfeelon a gentle level—she was a blast of emotion, whether it be good or bad.
When she had first arrived at Chelton, Thea had at once struck me with the deep need to know her and be adored by her. We had gotten along well, or so I’d thought, until she changed. One night we were dancing along the portrait hall, and the next day she was aloof and distant. I’d never understood what had happened to make her despise me, but my temper had flared beside hers with equal measure, and we had dug ourselves so far into a relationship of turmoil and discord that neither of us could climb our way out, even if we desired it.
Which she clearly did not.
I could not say how I felt, for in the heat of argument I often felt the deepest desire to snap. But now, in the quiet darkness of her chamber, my body outside the door and my hand resting on the brass knob, I allowed the regret that had so long sat dormant to rear its pathetic head.
It was a shame, really. We could have been the best of friends.
Chapter11
THEA
My trunk and valise sat just inside the door when I awoke the next morning, and I felt an achiness in my limbs that could only be fixed with adequate rest and a warm bath. I fished my dressing gown from the trunk, tucked my servant boy clothing and shoes into a wad, and shoved them beneath my bed. Benedict would know best how to dispose of them later.
I pulled on the bell rope and crossed to the window to await the servant I’d summoned, gazing through the wavy glass panes at the sweeping lawn and rolling, tree-studded hills that made up Chelton’s park. The folly was located just over the hills in the far distance—too far to walk, of course—and I longed for a bruising ride through the trees and over the hills to that restful place.
A knock preceded the short woman’s entrance, and Hannah stood in the opening, her bright eyes happy to see me, or so it seemed.
I wrapped my arms over my chest and smiled at the young maid. She’d blossomed into womanhood since I’d gone away to school, but her fresh smile was just as lovely as it had been before. “Good morning, Hannah. It has been an age. How are you?”
“I’m well, ma’am. But it’s good afternoon, I think.”
I looked to the window again and noted the location of the sun high overhead. I’d slept far later than I’d believed. Clearing my throat, I grinned at the maid. “Is it too late in the day to order a bath?”
“Of course not. I’ll see to it straight away. Would you like something to eat, too?”
“Yes, but don’t let Cook go to any extra trouble on my account. Anything will do. I’m famished.”
Hannah bobbed a curtsy and let herself from the room. I would be lying if I tried to convince myself I had not missed the comforts of Chelton House. A servant waiting at the end of the rope to boil water for my bath, another in the kitchen making me breakfast sometime after the sun had already reached its zenith. It was a far cry from the limited ablutions possible to a kitchen maid with a pitcher and ewer in a dim attic room, or the simple fare we consumed at the servants’ table. I far preferred my situation as both a governess and a seamstress’s assistant, my room in both houses plain and the food simple, but it was less laborious and provided me more freedoms.
Was I a failure? Yes, a little. It was strange to consider that I would still be picking peas and kneading dough if Benedict had not found me. I had been stubbornly set on proving I could manage on my own, that I needed no one else.
Perhaps I did notneedanyone, but that did not mean it wasn’t nice to have them. I walked away from that life knowing what I was capable of, and with a determination to make sure that any servants in my particular employ were given adequate candles, blankets, mattresses, and food. I could not return to this life from such an experience with lesser goals.
A soft knock rapped on the door and Lady Edith opened it. Her gray hair was pulled back into a soft knot, her high cheekbones and bright blue eyes highlighting the somewhat faded beauty that still held up remarkably well. She stood regally, awaiting my permission to enter the room, and the relief in her gaze and softness around her mouth was nearly palpable.
“Oh, Thea. You are home.”
Home. The word plucked at me like a clashing chord. I could not claim Chelton as my home—not truly.
“It is good to see you,” I said, crossing the room toward Lady Edith. “I am afraid I smell of the stables, though, so you will not wish to come any closer.”
She smiled. “I hardly care for how you smell.” She crossed the remainder of the room and pulled me into a warm embrace as only a mother could. Her arms wrapped around my back and pressed into my shoulder blades, surrounding me with affection, shrouding me with the feeling that I was wholly wanted here. “I am so relieved to find you well.” She released me and stepped back, appraising my ratty hair and bare feet beneath my dressing gown. “Though you could use some more meat on your bones. You’re too thin.”
“I am certainly looking forward to Cook’s marzipan.”
Lady Edith’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re in luck. It is on the menu for tonight.”
I grinned. “I do not need it so soon. I can wait until Cook has the time for it.”
Lady Edith shook her head. “I am not teasing, dear. Benedict requested it this morning.”
My stomach flipped, but I ignored the strange sensation. “I was under the impression that he would not be awake until Sunday.”
She sat on the edge of my bed, and I sat beside her. “The poor boy cannot be told to remain still. He was up with the sun, out riding with James.”
