Chapter 27
Thalia let a knotted piece of wool dance over the floorboards, and Orange danced merrily after it, claws scratching the wood. She’d taken to bringing him to the orphanage more often than not. Today, rain pelted the windowpanes, forcing all the children inside.
The large, much-used playroom was full of children, all chattering and laughing. Sophia and Nicholas were engaged in a game of marbles, while Alex sat nearby, engrossed in a book.
She watched blankly as Orange caught the string, rolling onto his back and kicking at it as if trying to kill something. A smile tugged at her lips, and she was conscious of a tug of happiness for the first time in a while.
Maybe she would get used to this. Being married but not married at the same time.
Part of her had hoped that Christian would come after her. That he would apologize. That he would tell her she could come back.
Would I do it if he told me he wanted me?
No, she decided. She wouldn’t. It would be better to stay apart. Maybe it was what they all needed—distance. Then life could go back to normal.
He’d give her an allowance, no doubt. It wouldn’t look good for a duke to keep his duchess in rags. Whatever she was given, she would use as much of it as she could to help St. Sarah’s.
There had been no talk of the money she was supposed to inherit. Her twenty-third birthday had come and gone. What should she do to get it? And even if she did request the money, it wouldn’t be hers. It would go directly to her husband, who was already a very rich man.
I’ll likely never see a shilling of it. Why would I? My brother won’t offer it. A court of law would likely just let him keep it. After all, why not? I’ve just married a duke. I have no need of the money. They’ll simply decide that Jonathan could keep it. I’m no better off than I was.
A fat tear rolled down her cheek, just one. She hastily wiped it away, just as the door creaked open. She glanced up in time to see Jonathan step into the doorway, murmuring to Sister Abigail. They gestured towards her before he walked over.
“If you’ve come to tell me it’s time to come home, Brother, I might as well tell you that you have no authority over me anymore,” she murmured listlessly.
Orange, getting tired of the game, scampered away to chase Nicholas and Sophia’s marbles.
Jonathan drew closer, and to her surprise, he lowered himself gingerly to sit on the floor.
“I’m not here to tell you to come home,” he murmured. “Nothing like that.”
Thalia eyed him for a long moment. “I’m glad.”
He said nothing for a moment, and she shifted uncomfortably.
Why is he here? Jonathan never showed any interest in the orphanage before. This is my place. Why does it feel as though he’s intruding?
“What do you want, Jonathan?” she asked, more sharply than she’d intended.
He gave a wry smile. “So harsh. We were friends once, or have you forgotten?”
She exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”
“I’m here to apologize, Thalia.”
She paused, twisting Orange’s abandoned wool between her fingers. “What did you say?”
He shrugged. “What I said. I’m here to apologize.
It’s clear that you aren’t happy in your marriage.
I am the one who pushed you to marry, so I suppose it’s my fault you weren’t more careful with your choice.
Augusta pointed out that you would likely have married anyone to avoid marrying Mr. Pembroke, and I suppose that she was right. ”
Thalia stared at her brother for a long moment. She had imagined this moment over and over again. The confrontation, how she would shout at him, jab her finger in the air, and let him know just how much he’d hurt her. She had imagined him cringing, cowering, perhaps on the brink of tears.
It was a nice fantasy. It had helped her endure many awful parties and vile suitors. But now, looking at him, she felt nothing but exhaustion. Exhaustion and a little pity.
He looks so thin. So defeated.
“I know about the money, Jonathan,” she whispered. “I know that Father intended for me to receive a lump sum if I reached three-and-twenty unmarried. I know that’s why you were so keen for me to marry.”
She didn’t know what she’d expected. Excuses and denials, perhaps. But Jonathan only closed his eyes.
“I know that you know,” he murmured. “The… the solicitor, my father’s friend, visited today. He’d heard of your marriage and felt that he had to speak up. He didn’t speak to me, however. He spoke to Augusta.”
Thalia sucked in a breath. “What?”
He nodded tiredly. “She confronted me after. The look on her face, Thalia, it… I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.
Anger, disappointment, misery. She kept saying, ‘That wasn’t yours to take, Jonathan,’ as if I were a pickpocket.
In her eyes, I suppose I must be. I remember all the excuses I made, how I would need the money while you would not because you’d marry a wealthy man.
I thought of the things I could do and how I would put it to ‘better’ use.
Perhaps that’s why I disliked your patronage of St. Sarah’s so much.
After all”—he threw a tired, wry smile in her direction—“there are few more worthy things than patronizing an orphanage.”
She gave a tired smile in response. “It’s done, Jonathan.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand how I became this person. Really, I don’t. I’m sorry, Thalia. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Thalia clawed inside herself for the old anger, the resentment, the grudge. It wasn’t there. Just emptiness. She inched a little closer to him.
“I’m not angry,” she said.
“You should be.”
“I was very angry for a long time, but things have changed so quickly and so suddenly that I’m not sure I have the time or energy to be angry anymore.”
Jonathan drew in a breath. “You can have the money, Thalia. I’ve already decided. There’ll be no courts, no arguments. I will make sure that money is yours and goes to nobody else.”
“I’m not sure I care so much about the money anymore. It was never the money, you understand. It was the prospect of being free. Living alone.” Her voice cracked on the last word.
“And I took that from you,” he whispered.
She glanced up at his face, and her chest ached. His face had gone pale, his features twisted in misery.
My poor brother.
She reached out tentatively and placed her hand on his. He sniffled, tightening his grip around her fingers, and gave her a brief, tentative smile.
“Can you ever forgive me, Thalia? Can we ever be as we were?”
“I think we can, Jonathan. We can try, at least.”
“I was so jealous of you,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Father was so proud of you. Augusta adored having a daughter.”
“That’s not fair. They loved you too.”
“I know they loved me, but I wish they could have been proud of me, too,” he sniffled. “They’d be even less proud if they could see me now. Of course, Augusta can see me, but I doubt she’ll ever forgive me.”
“You underestimate her. Augusta loves you. Once she sees you making things right, she’ll forgive and forget. Just like I will,” Thalia promised, and was surprised to find that she meant it.
He eyed her for a long moment.
“Is the Duke really such a vile man?” he asked. “I never thought… I was just so happy that you were marrying a duke that I never thought twice about the sort of life you’d lead. Augusta says that it was my responsibility.”
“I can take responsibility for myself, Jonathan. And no, Christian is not a vile man. He’s just a man. A complicated one.”
“Do you see a way to reconciliation?”
Thalia thought for a moment, then bit her lip. “I don’t know. I would like to reconcile with him, but as I said, it’s complicated. He’s complicated.”
Jonathan nodded and did not ask further questions.
They sat in silence for a few moments. A companionable silence, not the tense, angry silences they’d endured before. It felt familiar.
Thalia closed her eyes and gingerly rested her head against her brother’s shoulder. She heard him exhale sharply before he slid his arm around her shoulders.
“I love you, Sister,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Jonathan.”
“I think… I think perhaps Father played us up against each other,” Thalia murmured hesitantly. “Do you remember? He’d have us play chess, but it was all very serious.”
“I remember him lecturing me for hours whenever I lost a game,” Jonathan remarked wryly. “Do you remember footraces when we were young? The winner got scones, jam, and cream, and the loser got nothing.”
“I remember that,” Thalia sighed. “How nervous I used to get. Nothing was ever good enough, was it?”
“No, I suppose it wasn’t.”
“At least, you had a father,” piped up a small, anxious voice from behind. “I never knew mine.”
Thalia twisted around and gave the boy a sympathetic smile. “Oh, Alex, that’s sad. Did you have a mother?”
Alex nodded, coming to sit beside her. Jonathan watched, looking faintly surprised. Perhaps he didn’t realize just how comfortable the children were with her.
Thalia felt a twinge of pride.
“Tell me about your family, Alex,” she prompted, sliding an arm around his shoulders.
“Well, my mother loved me very much,” Alex began. “It was just the two of us for years and years. We were quite happy. She said that my father was a gentleman, but that was all she said.”
Thalia nodded sympathetically. It was a common enough story. Many gentlemen, even married ones, had illegitimate children and often had no intention of marrying the mother.
“Did you have a comfortable life?” Jonathan asked, flashing what he clearly hoped was a friendly, welcoming smile.
Alex nodded. “Yes, we did. We weren’t rich, but Mother didn’t have to work, and we were never hungry or cold in the winter. We had a little cottage in Scotland, but then Mother died of fever.”
Misery crept onto his young face, and Thalia felt a pang of pity.
“You must miss her very much.”
He nodded tightly. “There wasn’t really any money for me, but before she died, Mother said that I should be put in an orphanage here. She mentioned St. Sarah’s specifically, so I came here.”