Chapter 9
The next afternoon, still somewhat rattled by the night before, Thalia found herself in the drawing room, greeting an unexpected visitor.
“Goodness, you are pale!” the young woman with the golden blonde hair and astonishing blue eyes declared, in a tone that suggested they were at least familiar with one another.
“Ghoulish, in truth. And here I am, foisting myself upon you without so much as invitation. I should have written; I knew I should have written.”
At that moment, the housekeeper hurried in, carrying a hastily arranged tray. “Frances Brooks, Your Grace,” she blurted out. “The duke’s first cousin.”
The beautiful visitor threw her head back and laughed, a hand to her stomach. “Mrs. Fisher, that is quite unnecessary! I know I am an unannounced visitor, but I am no stranger to this household.” She flashed an odd smile at Thalia. “Holdridge is very… strange today.”
“The dust, My Lady,” Mrs. Fisher hastened to say. “It has caused a great deal of trouble all day, since we began to clean out some of the old rooms. There are maids with streaming eyes who can’t stop coughing.”
Taking her cue to play along, for she had decided that she ought to be cautious around newcomers for the time being, Thalia nodded.
“And I am somewhat under the weather,” she said, noting the housekeeper’s widening eyes.
“A trifling malady. One of those headaches that makes you feel as if you do not know yourself.”
Frances relaxed into the settee, seemingly satisfied by the explanation.
“Oh, I know those all too well. Do you not remember that week last summer where I could not even rise from my bed, my head hurt so much? I am embarrassed to think of it now, how feeble and pathetic I was, but there is something about the heat that robs a person of all their strength.” She gestured to the window. “Not that it is very warm right now.”
Henry’s cousin appeared to be a talker, which suited Thalia perfectly. With any luck, the woman might say a few things which awakened some memories, or at least better explained the situation she had found herself in, bound in a marriage of convenience.
With a man who inexplicably makes my heart race whenever he is close to me… Thalia shook off that last part, refusing to believe that she could be attracted to someone who had clearly trapped her in a union she would never have agreed to.
“No, there is still a chill in the air,” Thalia said with a nod, as Mrs. Fisher began to serve the tea and cakes, breathing hard as if she had sprinted to intervene.
“Well, I know of something that will put us in cheerier spirits!” Frances announced with a grin, clapping her hands together.
“Catherine is holding her first ball as a married woman! It is to take place in a week, though she has been remarkably slow with invitations. The poor thing will be tearing her hair out, worried that no one will come; she has left it so very late.”
The only Catherine that Thalia knew was a rather unpleasant creature who had been particularly rude to her during their debut. Surely, it could not be the same one? Catherine was a common enough name. Perhaps, Thalia had befriended someone by that name during the last four years.
“That is… very exciting,” Thalia said, hearing the strange inflection in her voice, as if she were asking a question.
Unfortunately, Frances seemed to notice it, too. “Are you sure there is not something else amiss? You really are not yourself today.”
“I assure you, it is just this headache,” Thalia answered a note too quickly. “I have never had one like it; I can barely recognize your face, everything is so… blurry.”
Although she was in no position to trust Henry, there was one point he had made last night that she felt compelled to heed: that she should be careful about who she allowed to influence her.
It seemed that she and Frances were friends, but she did not know if they were close enough that she should inform her of her true malady of amnesia.
What if this lady is someone I am acquainted with but do not trust? What if she is a ‘pretend’ friend? What if she is someone I do not like at all?
Unlike with Henry, Thalia’s body gave her little indication one way or the other.
There was some discomfort, but that could well have stemmed from the fact that she did not know how to act in front of this stranger.
It was difficult to know how to proceed, so she figured she ought to err on the side of caution.
“Shall I leave you?” Frances asked in a soft, concerned voice. “I should. Yes, of course I should. The moment you said you were unwell, I should have left. Goodness, what a wretched beast I am, making you sit here, listening to me chatter on while you are suffering.”
She rose quickly, the embarrassment upon her face immediately endearing her to Thalia: the look of someone well-meaning, if not always successful in her good intentions.
“I have always said you are too polite, my dearest Thalia,” Frances continued with an apologetic smile.
“You should have kicked me out without hesitation! But… can I do anything for you? Can I fetch you some medicine? A physician? Can I escort you to your chambers? Tuck you in? I feel I must do something for being such an oblivious dolt.”
Thalia managed a genuine chuckle. “It is quite all right, Frances.”
“Well, now I know you are furious with me,” Frances lamented, her eyes wide. “You never call me ‘Frances.’ Only my brother calls me that when I am in trouble.”
Panic prickled in Thalia’s stomach, as she discreetly glanced at Mrs. Fisher for help. The housekeeper mouthed back, Franny.
“Apologies, Franny,” Thalia hurried to correct. “I really am not myself today. I do not know why I called you that. As you say, I have never called you that.”
Frances chewed her lower lip in consternation. “Clearly, this is direr than I thought. I must send for a physician. Please, allow me to do that for—”
“Stop fussing, Cousin,” a stern voice interrupted, a figure appearing in the drawing room doorway.
Henry looked windswept, as if he had just come in from riding, his eyes bright and face flushed with the nip of the fresh afternoon air.
Absently, Thalia wondered if his skin would be cold if she were to touch her palms to his cheeks…
and immediately scolded herself for thinking such a thing.
She was not to touch him, not to think about touching him, not to even let the notion cross her mind for an instant!
He cannot be trusted. No, certainly not.
He had told Thalia that he had business to attend to and had not been present at breakfast, but she had assumed he was still somewhere on the estate. Somewhere that he could ensure she did not try to defy him and run to her family residence.
Now, it appeared he had been elsewhere, and she cursed herself for sitting idly by, resting instead of rescuing herself.
Not that I would have made it very far without a carriage…
“Henry?” Frances stared at her cousin as if she did not know him. “What on earth are you doing here?”
Henry met her curiosity with a calm demeanor. “In my own residence?”
“Oh, you know what I mean,” Frances retorted with a wave of her hand, eyeing him with an interest that did not go unnoticed by Thalia. “You are never here. Is it because of Thalia’s sickness?”
A flicker of tension passed across Henry’s face, tightening his jaw.
“She was just telling me about this awful headache of hers,” the lively blonde woman continued, oblivious.
“I must say, it has me quite worried. I have suffered terrible headaches after many a ball and, as I was just saying to Thalia, in the summertime, but she is not herself, Henry. Is something going on? Has the physician given bad news? Oh… is it a child?”
She jittered with excitement as she spun around to look at Thalia, who could do nothing but smile stiffly and shake her head and hope that her cheeks were not as red as they felt. Why did everyone keep bringing up children?
“I happened to be here when she fell ill,” Henry said evenly. “I thought it prudent to stay awhile.”
Frances barked a laugh. “A true husband, at last?”
“Something like that,” Henry replied without so much as a glance in Thalia’s direction. “A companion, at least, for the foreseeable.”
“Well, all I shall say is, it is about time!” Frances cheered, casting a look at Thalia that Thalia did not understand.
It was a look that spoke of past conversations which, of course, Thalia could not remember. Had she discussed Henry with Frances? Had she discussed children with Frances? Had she discussed wanting to have Henry nearer? Thalia could not very well ask right now, in front of him.
“James will be thrilled,” Frances carried on. “He is always saying how improper it is for a husband and wife to live apart, though I do not see him marrying to show us all how it is ‘supposed’ to be done.”
Henry raised an eyebrow. “Is he now?”
“He said it in passing, I am sure,” Frances replied, chuckling. “Anyway, now that I know you are here to take care of my dearest Thalia, I am more inclined to depart without causing more of a fuss. She needs to be at the very peak of health by next week.”
That raised eyebrow dipped down into a frown upon Henry’s brow. “And why is that?”
“Because Catherine is having her first ball,” Frances replied, “and Thalia and I have to be there. I shall send you the information in case the invitations are further delayed. Now, Thalia, I—”
“We cannot attend,” Henry interrupted.
Frances rolled her eyes. “Obviously, if her sickness does not permit it, then there is no expectation, but I would like to attend my friend’s ball with my very best friend.” She looked to Thalia. “Apologies, I do so hate to speak of people as if they are not here.”