Chapter 11
“Ido not remember these roads,” Thalia whispered, vexed by the unfamiliarity of the countryside that moved past the carriage window.
The world had shifted to that magical time between late winter and early spring, when buds were beginning to appear on the stark trees, the first leaves sprouting, saplings pushing up through dense blankets of soil to feel the sun for the first time.
A time of transformation, the chill in the air not so harsh, the birds seeming to sing that little bit louder, the creatures preparing for new life, the days growing longer and brighter to cheer the soul.
It was autumn when the carriage turned over. I have lost so many seasons.
“But I will see my family soon,” she told herself, speaking aloud to prevent the silence from becoming too intense. “That is something to celebrate.”
Henry had chosen to ride alongside the carriage, and no servants were accompanying them, though Rowena and Mrs. Fisher had both volunteered. As such, Thalia was alone with her thoughts; a dangerous place to be.
Why can I not remember anything at all? Surely, I should have begun to remember by now.
She rested her palm against the site of her injury, where a bruise shaped like France was beginning to yellow at the edges.
It was still tender to the touch, but hidden enough beneath the rim of her bonnet…
not that she needed to hide it from her family.
They, at least, knew about her accident.
It would be such a relief not to have to fumble her way through a conversation as she had done with poor Frances.
Just as she was about to settle back against the squabs and contemplate a nap, she caught sight of a familiar gatepost, topped with a praying angel with wings spread.
We are here already? They could not have been on the road for more than a few hours.
She sat up straighter, nervous excitement stoking her heart into a frenzy as the carriage turned onto the blissfully familiar driveway of Farhampton Manor.
Beautiful ancient oaks still lined the drive, though two wide stumps marked the spot where two had obviously fallen.
The lawns were as green as she remembered, immaculately trimmed, with the apple orchard on the right and a spread of verdant paddocks stretching away to the left.
A relic from the days when her father had tried his hand at raising thoroughbreds for the races, only to sell most of his paltry stock some five years later at a severe loss.
But those paddocks remained, and grew such pretty wildflowers in the spring and summer: a feasting ground for vibrant butterflies and industrious bees and jewel-toned dragonflies.
And the manor itself…
The long sandstone structure with its exquisite glass domes stood proud against a blue sky, bay windows winking in the sunlight, welcoming Thalia home. Entirely unchanged. Entirely what she had needed to see.
Now, this is home. For all its faults, this is where I belong.
After all, the faults had nothing to with the actual manor, and everything to do with the patriarch who presided over it.
By the time the carriage drew to a standstill at the bottom of the porch steps, Thalia was so eager to be inside that she did not bother to wait for a footman.
She threw open the door and hurried out, her shoes crunching on the white gravel as she raced up the steps and straight into the entrance hall.
“Dorothy? Kenneth?” she shouted up, that lovely golden sunlight spilling in through the glass dome above, casting fragments of rainbow light onto the marble floor.
“Thalia?” A shriek preceded the arrival of someone who resembled the thirteen-year-old sister that Thalia had left waiting on the night of her first accident, but had transformed from girl to woman.
She grew up… and I missed it. Of course, Thalia knew that was not true. She had not missed Dorothy growing up, but it felt that way as she watched, reality and recollection jarring in her mind.
Dorothy skidded onto the landing above, running with her skirts hitched up, though Thalia had often chided her for the unladylike act. The younger woman took the steps of the curving staircase at a worrisome pace and positively flew into Thalia’s waiting arms.
“You are here!” Dorothy crowed, hugging her sister tightly. “Oh, how I have missed you! How have I missed seeing you in this house! Oh, my sweet sister. My sweet, sweet sister.”
Feeling like she might cry, Thalia buried her face in Dorothy’s shoulder, surprised that her sister was now almost the same height as her. Saying nothing, Thalia just savored the moment of reunion as if it truly had been four years since they had last seen one another.
“You have grown so much,” Thalia mumbled, heartbroken and gladdened in equal measure.
Dorothy chuckled. “You say that even when you have all of your memories. Every time I see you, you say I have grown a little more, though I do not think that can be true.”
They hugged even tighter, if only so Thalia could buy herself a bit more time to come to terms with the present.
“How long has it been since I last saw you?” she asked, once she had composed herself.
Dorothy pulled back, smiling. “Over a month. Eliza invited me to Northumberland, so I was there for four weeks… and then I heard of your accident and Papa said I could not visit until you were well, so I have been here, anxiously waiting.”
“Eliza?” Thalia frowned and willed the memory to come, but it refused.
“My dearest friend. My Frances,” Dorothy explained, as she took hold of Thalia’s hands. “This is good. You must not be afraid to ask me anything. If I say something that makes no sense to you, tell me; I am ready to explain everything and anything of the past four years.”
Relief eased the tension in Thalia’s shoulders as she gave a nod of agreement. But as her mouth began to form her first proper question, another voice jumped in ahead of her.
“You should sit. You should not be standing in the draft in your condition.”
Thalia turned to find her brother emerging from the drawing room, his sandy hair shorter than she remembered, his face bearing a mustache that had not been there before, his hazel eyes a little dimmer than they used to be.
“Do not concern yourself with me, Kenneth,” Thalia insisted, a smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth. “You ought to send for a physician for yourself, to take a detailed look at the growth that seems to have appeared on your upper lip. Goodness, I do hope it is not catching.”
A look of surprise flickered across Kenneth’s face, while Dorothy promptly burst into laughter. Almost too enthusiastically.
“You are still the same!” she gasped, squeezing Thalia’s hand. “Thank goodness for that. I warned Kenneth that you might not even recognize him with his mustache, but this is so much better. He simply will not have it shaved, no matter how I stare at it and tease him.”
The ghost of a smile started to form upon Kenneth’s lips, beneath that well combed mustache… and faded as Henry walked in.
“Your Grace,” Kenneth said stiffly, his hazel eyes cold.
Henry acknowledged the greeting with the smallest tip of his head. “Mr. Carter.”
“Thank you for your letter,” Kenneth continued in an odd, flat tone. “It might have been more useful had it arrived sooner, but no matter; we were adequately prepared for your arrival.”
“One cannot write what one does not know,” Henry replied, matching Thalia’s brother’s demeanor. “It was only decided last night.”
Feeling a sudden urge to defend her husband, Thalia nodded. “It is true, Kenneth. There was no plan to visit until last night.”
Despite my insistence, she neglected to add, fearing that might only exacerbate the obvious tension between the two men.
A peculiarity that warranted investigation.
Evidently, there was some sort of quarrel or unrest between her brother and her husband, and though she suspected neither of them would tell her what it was, Dorothy surely would.
“Well…” Kenneth cleared his throat and dipped his head. “It is a… fine thing to see you back at Farhampton, sister. It has been too long.”
“It has?” Thalia looked to her younger sister for explanation.
“It has been two years,” Dorothy whispered. “I have visited you, but you have not come here.”
A frown forced Thalia’s eyebrows down, suspicion creeping through her like a thief. “Whyever not?”
“Later, perhaps,” Dorothy murmured, just as Thalia caught a warning look narrow Kenneth’s eyes, aimed at their younger sister.
So, she was not wrong that something had happened between Henry and Kenneth to make them unsettled in one another’s company. Yet again, however, it seemed that Thalia would have to wait for the details, to fill in the parts that were missing in her own mind.