Chapter 15
THE FOLLOWING EVENING
The paper in her glove crackled whenever she moved her hand. With a flare of annoyance, Thalia tugged off her glove once more.
The translations she intended to give Christian had been transcribed on a small square of paper which she had folded and placed in the palm of her hand.
In theory, this would keep them hidden. Apparently, he had decided to trust her to take them home.
That was good, because she was not sure that she dared try another midnight visit to his home.
Her reticule would not be a safe place. Jonathan had a habit of going through it to be sure that she wasn’t bringing a book or some other unsociable device. However, if she couldn’t get the paper to sit more quietly, she’d give herself away every time somebody took her hand.
She’d taken no pleasure in making the translations. Miss Emmeline Hartridge’s sharp words had wormed into her heart, despite her best efforts. Shrieking banshee. It was a compliment, really.
What hurt most of all was that the encounter cast a pall over the outing. Despite their treats and their marbles, the children remained quiet and unhappy all the way home.
Thalia’s heart ached. It would be months before they could come out for a treat again, possibly longer than that. It wouldn’t surprise her if the board chose to restrict the treat days even more.
The door creaked open, and she flinched, hastily tugging on her glove again.
“Only me!” came a familiar, fluting voice.
Some of her tension faded away. “Oh, it’s you, Augusta. Are you coming with us? Jonathan said you would be resting.”
“If your brother had his way, I would do nothing but rest,” Augusta chuckled, stepping into the room.
“You would think I was entirely decrepit. He was concerned about the chills I might feel at the fireworks show. I told him that I’ve faced greater challenges than a sharp breeze, but he wouldn’t have it.
I have compromised in the form of an extra shawl and a good scarf. Now, let me have a look at you.”
Smiling, Thalia turned from her own reflection to face her stepmother.
Augusta’s soft brown curls had only just begun to gray. She dressed like an older woman, with wide lace collars and dull, unflattering gowns. She had had an opportunity to remarry a couple of years ago. Some merchant had wanted to marry her, a widower himself, but she had refused.
“I have my family here already,” she had said.
Thalia was secretly relieved that her stepmother would not be leaving them. No doubt it was because of her that she and Jonathan had not yet come to blows.
Augusta reached out, smoothing Thalia’s shawl, and a slow smile crept onto her round face.
“Beautiful,” she pronounced, nodding. “You look delightful, my dear. But you’re wearing your blue silk dress. Won’t you be cold? I would recommend the lemon-colored shawl instead of this one. It will suit your complexion very well and keep you warm in the bargain.”
“You are right, of course.”
“And the yellow gloves.”
Thalia stiffened. “Oh, no, I like the blue ones.”
“Are you sure? The yellow would match better.”
“It will be dark,” she said lightly. “Nobody will notice.”
“Well, as you like. You shall look exceptionally pretty either way. You have always been beautiful, my dear, but lately you seem to glow. Others have remarked upon it, not just me.”
Thalia reddened, biting her lip. “You are too kind, Augusta.”
“Nonsense. Now, shall we sit down for a cup of tea before we leave?”
“I had hoped to make some last-minute adjustments to my dress.”
Augusta hesitated, biting her cheek. “In truth, I have something to say to you.”
Cold dread curled through Thalia’s gut. “Oh?”
“Nothing terrible, you needn’t fret. But pressing, I would say.”
Nodding tightly, Thalia followed her stepmother out of her bedroom and down the hall to Augusta’s private parlor. Inside, a tea tray waited. This meeting had clearly been planned.
Augusta carefully shut the door and gestured for Thalia to take a seat. For a moment, there was only the pleasant sound of tea being poured.
“Now, I am not your real mama,” Augusta began carefully, “but I have always done my best to act as such. I want the best for you, Thalia.”
“I know.”
“Then I imagine you already know what this conversation is about.”
Thalia took a sip of her tea. It burned the tip of her tongue. Served her right for her impatience, really.
“I really couldn’t say.”
Augusta nodded. “Mabel told me that the Duke of Thornhill arrived unexpectedly at your picnic yesterday. Apparently, there was a scene.”
“Oh, yes. Miss Hartridge also arrived. She dislikes me intensely.”
“Miss Hartridge does not concern me. Thalia, my dear, you must know that meeting gentlemen in such an informal setting is always a cause for concern. Doing it without my consent or your brother’s is doubly dangerous.”
Color flooded Thalia’s face. She set her teacup down with a clatter. “I did not plan to meet the Duke, Augusta. You must believe me, his appearance was quite a shock to me.”
Augusta eyed her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “If you say it was not planned, then I believe you. But I should warn you that your brother does not.”
The dread in Thalia’s gut grew.
If Jonathan thinks I am using the treat days as an excuse to meet men without his consent, he will put a stop to them.
Swallowing, she thought of all the things her brother might do to prevent her.
He would start by withholding her allowance, of course.
Next, he would inform the servants that anyone helping her or offering her food to take would be dismissed.
Few of them would risk it, and Thalia could never allow them to try.
He could also inform the footmen and the butler that she was not to leave the house unaccompanied by him.
And they would be forced to obey, all of them. Any servant who was caught disobeying would be dismissed, and a new, more obedient servant would be brought in to replace them.
She could sneak out, of course, but where would that leave her? An unaccompanied young woman with no money and no resources. She’d be worse than useless to the orphans.
Jonathan had less power over Augusta, of course. He would occasionally take her advice, even. But when it came to his sister, his power was just about absolute.
Only for a month more.
“He… he doesn’t know, does he?”
“Naturally not,” Augusta said firmly. “Mabel is not enough of a fool to tell him. I have no intention of getting you into trouble with your brother, not unless I think your reputation or even you are in danger. But these surprise meetings with the Duke must stop. Mabel told me that she believed he had come to you on purpose?”
“I believe so.”
“Well, you must tread carefully, my dear. Men like the Duke are thoroughly dangerous and rather thoughtless. They ruin women’s reputations on a whim, and you might find yourself in quite a predicament. Have a care, my love.”
“I… I am being careful. But I am not sure that the Duke is quite as cruel as is commonly thought.”
Augusta lifted an eyebrow, sipping her own tea. “Oh?”
Thalia reddened, glancing away. “He… he brought a bag of marbles. For the children. He somehow contrived it that they all won the marbles from him. They enjoyed the game immensely, of course, and he was so… so kind. I did not believe him capable of such kindness.”
“I would not have thought so, either,” Augusta answered thoughtfully.
“Well, I do not mean to say that the man is pure evil, but you know his reputation. He is the very last man in London that anyone would consider amenable to marriage. But I shall be frank with you, Thalia. I have noticed that he pays special attention to you. He seems… fond of you. And aside from this improper meeting in the park, he has behaved well.”
Thalia bit her lip.
Not as well as you think. Besides, all of this is a ploy. A convincing one.
“I should like you to be married,” Augusta continued firmly. “Marriage, when done correctly, is a source of great happiness. I hardly need tell you that when one chooses one’s partner poorly, it brings only misery.”
Thalia bit the inside of her cheek.
I ought to tell Augusta the truth. That there can never be anything serious between the Duke and me. It’s all pretense. All of it.
But as much as Augusta deserved the truth, the possibility of her telling Jonathan always loomed. She loved him. She loved them both as if they were her own children. She’d said as much.
Perhaps in her mind, Jonathan was still the serious, earnest, gawky young boy she’d met when she first married their father. Perhaps she thought that boy was still in there.
I could tell her that he’s been lying to me. Withholding my future from me. But then she would go straight to him and demand an answer. He’d lie, and she could never tell when a person is lying. And then Jonathan would know that I know.
No, it was no good. Thalia couldn’t tell Augusta, even if the woman deserved to hear the truth.
She concentrated on smoothing out her expression and waiting patiently for her stepmother to speak again.
“Do you like him?” Augusta asked abruptly.
Thalia flinched. “I… I don’t know.”
Trust Augusta to get the truth out of me.
Augusta nodded, as if this was more or less what she had expected to hear.
“In our world, girls are told to think of nothing else but marriage, but thinking of gentlemen, romance, and love is highly discouraged,” she remarked wryly.
“It’s rather conflicting, I think. But never mind.
Now, you know that the Duke has an interest in you.
He’s made that plain. He is said to be a man who goes his own way more often than not.
I cannot disagree with the idea of a man securing the woman’s consent first before going to her parents or guardians. ”
Thalia cleared her throat. “I… I did not notice his attentions.”
“But now, you should think about it. I won’t deny that a rake like the Duke of Thornhill is not the man I would have imagined for you.
However, he is rich, powerful, and I daresay he can be charming.
Your brother worries about your future. If you don’t marry, you know your life can be bleak.
When Jonathan marries, it’s ten to one that his wife will want you out of the house.
” Augusta leaned forward, dropping her voice.
“That happened to me, you know. I lived with my younger brother before I married your father. When he married, my sister-in-law and I did not get along. I considered it my house still, but she knew that it was hers. We quarreled, I’m sorry to say, and our relationship never quite recovered.
My point is that you should think of your future now. ”
Thalia glanced down, picking at her gloves. The paper crackled loudly, and she bit back a wince.
“I had never really thought about marriage,” she murmured. “I am not sure that it would suit me.”
Augusta glanced away, biting her lip. “I had not meant to tell you this, but I had thought about retiring from London myself.”
Thalia stiffened, eyes going wide. “You are leaving us?”
“No, my dear. I thought that you might like to come with me. I have a dower house in the north, and I thought we could live comfortably there. I know you would miss St. Sarah’s, but there will be other orphanages in need of your help.
You could buy all the books you like. You could study…
ahem. But it does not matter. I broached the subject with Jonathan, and he was quite adamant that you stay. ”
Thalia swallowed. She was not sure what she would have done had Augusta asked her about leaving London. But it didn’t matter, because Jonathan had made that decision for her.
“Oh,” she murmured.
Of course, she was of age. She could legally do as she liked, but she had not a single penny to her name.
If Jonathan wanted, he could throw her out of his house without even the clothes on her back.
Nothing was hers, so she had better obey her brother or else.
But when she turned three-and-twenty, things would be different.
Until then, until she had some money, she was stuck.
If he said she wasn’t leaving London, she wasn’t.
“But if you were to marry a duke,” Augusta continued eagerly, “you would have so much more power. You would be free. If you could marry, my dear, you might have a chance at happiness.”
A chance that I won’t have as long as I’m under Jonathan’s thumb. She understands that at least.
“I… I am thinking about it,” Thalia managed. “The Duke confuses me, I will admit that.”
Interest flashed in Augusta’s eyes. “Oh? You like him?”
“I don’t know,” Thalia repeated, honestly enough. “I don’t know how to feel.”
“Well, do you like his company? His face? Do you like the way you feel when you are around him?”
These questions were making Thalia uncomfortable. What was the point of thinking seriously about Christian? Why think about how handsome he was or how exhilarated she felt when they were together?
The plain fact was that nothing would come of it.
He did not want to marry her. He wanted to find Laura, and once she was home safe, he would probably pay no attention at all to Thalia ever again.
Why should he? He was not interested in matrimony.
And if he was, he would not be interested in a woman like her.
Getting her hopes up would only result in hurt. Worse still, if Christian suspected she was growing over-fond of him, he might choose to pull back, terrified of being trapped into marriage.
Not that anybody could trap a man like him into doing something he did not want to do.
“I suppose so,” Thalia whispered.
Augusta’s face relaxed a little. “Well, that is a fine start. We shall wait and see what happens. Your brother has certainly noticed, and I suspect he is letting Mr. Pembroke’s suit fall by the wayside a little.
There’s no comparing a man like that with the Duke of Thornhill.
However,” she added with a wince, “tonight is Lady Pembroke’s party, so I daresay there’ll be no avoiding him.
But if you have a man to consider, then—” She broke off as footsteps echoed along the hall.
Jonathan shouldered open the door, not bothering to knock. He glanced at each of them, visibly annoyed.
“Are you taking tea? We have to leave at once! We shall be late. Come along, Augusta, I expected better of you. And you, Thalia, you had better hurry. And don’t wear that ugly lemon shawl. Wear the thin blue silk.”
“I recommended the lemon,” Augusta murmured softly.
“The blue will look better,” Jonathan decreed.
Turning on his heel, he stamped out of the room, leaving the ladies to follow.