Chapter 19
“How was your breakfast, Your Grace?” Rowena asked blithely, coming into the bedchamber to fetch the tray.
Thalia looked up from the writing desk, where she had been hopelessly attempting to write a letter to Dorothy.
Apologizing for her hasty departure from Farhampton and inviting her to visit, while subtly trying to ask more about this ‘secret publishing house’ she apparently helmed.
She had been searching, but she had found no record or information about that either.
Do I have that correspondence sent elsewhere? What if someone is trying to contact me?
It had weighed upon her mind… and given her an excuse to avoid her husband for the past few days, searching every room that did not have him in it. He, too, appeared to be avoiding her, keeping to his mysterious tower and his study.
“Weren’t you hungry?” Rowena eyed the half-eaten bowl of porridge.
Thalia smiled. “I was too distracted to eat. I shall just have to have a large luncheon.”
“Distracted by His Grace?” Rowena asked, a note too boldly.
Blinking, Thalia shook her head. “No… um… just distracted by this letter I must write.”
The staff continued to be embarrassingly perceptive, particularly Rowena and Mrs. Fisher.
They had noticed that Thalia was deliberately keeping her distance from Henry, but what else was she supposed to do?
She could not begin to understand how to deal with this man that she did not trust, but had such an intense hold upon her feelings, her very being.
So, she had decided it would be best not to deal with him at all.
“I think I shall go on one of my reading adventures,” she said quickly. “That may inspire me to write.”
Rowena nodded and went to the wardrobe, pulling out Thalia’s warmest cloak, a fur tippet and a fur-lined bonnet.
At the sight of it, Thalia chuckled. “The sun is shining, Rowena, and if the breeze through the window is any indication, it is to be a mild day. I shall boil alive if I wear all of that.”
“But you’re still injured, Your Grace. You’ve got to stay warm,” the maid insisted. “If I don’t wrap you up in all these layers, Mrs. Fisher will gut me.”
“I will explain to Mrs. Fisher if she has any complaint, but I cannot concentrate on reading if I am sweating ferociously.”
The maid still seemed reluctant, as she took a lighter cloak out of the wardrobe and put anything with fur away. She chose a wider-brimmed bonnet to keep out the sun, before retrieving the fur tippet once more.
“You can easily take this off if you get too hot,” Rowena insisted. “I’ll not forgive myself if I send you out there unprepared.”
Thalia feigned a groan. “Very well. Honestly, you would think that everyone but me was the duchess in this house.” She flashed a wink at the maid to let her know there was no ill-will. “Come on then, prepare me for my journey out into the Arctic cold.”
As the maid hurried over with a secretly pleased smile, Thalia thought once more of all the missing correspondence that her searches had not yet explained.
“Have you had any luck locating my letters yet?” she asked anxiously, for she had tasked Rowena and Mrs. Fisher with helping in the search. After all, they knew the manor far better than she did.
Fastening the tippet around Thalia’s neck, the maid shook her head apologetically. “Nothing, Your Grace. I even searched the stables and the scary room at the back of the laundry, where all the spiders live.”
“And you are certain you do not know of any place I used to go before…?” Thalia tapped the side of her head.
“You were always doing something, Your Grace. You rarely stayed still, so it’s difficult to say where you went,” Rowena replied. “The library was your favorite room…”
“But I have searched it thoroughly,” Thalia murmured, completing the thought herself. “Never mind. If my letters and writings are in this house somewhere, I am certain I shall find them eventually. Whether by chance or by the return of my memory.”
Rowena smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure you will, Your Grace.”
A short while later, a relatively new novel in hand, Thalia made her way out of the manor and into the sunshine.
She drew in a deep gulp of the fresh, crisp air and sighed as her eyes took in the beauty of the Holdridge grounds, so lush and green with lawns and trees, the gardens and the flower beds slowly waking up now that the season was tiptoeing into true Spring.
For the past couple of days since the ball, she had taken to reading outside when she was not hunting out her memories, finding a nice spot in one of those very gardens. But, today, she felt like something different. A change of scenery.
With that in mind, she took another deep breath of the soul-stirring air and took off toward the boating lake.
I should have done this sooner.
Sitting against the sturdy trunk of a weeping willow, her book face down on her lap, Thalia reveled in the peace of the lakeside. The silence here was endlessly soothing, the birds much quieter, the water as still and serene as her mind.
Distance from the manor seemed to help with her inner turmoil and frustrations.
Distance from Henry, rather. Indeed, she doubted that anyone could have any worries when they were so relaxed, blessed with such a beautiful view of the shimmering lake and the dancing, jewel-hued dragonflies that flitted across it.
She closed her eyes, thinking she might doze for a while, so calm she could hardly believe it.
I might stay here forev—
Her peace shattered like a fallen glass, her heart jolting at the sound of an almighty splash. Nothing at all like the quiet, quaint splashes of the fish that lived in the lake, not unless there was an enormous one hidden in those gentle waters.
Eyes snapping open, sitting up straight, she glanced across the lake to find the source of the disturbance.
Ripples undulated outward, just past the jetty belonging to the boathouse. Thalia stared at those ringed wavelets, waiting for the cause to show themselves… but the ripples stilled and nothing moved, nothing emerging from the water.
“Oh! Oh, no!” Thalia jumped up, hitching up her skirts as she ran to the water’s edge, calling out with all her might, “I say! I say, is someone there? Are you well?”
What are you doing, you dolt? she chided herself, for if there was someone under the water, drowning, they were not about to answer her, were they?
Yet, she had not seen anyone at the lakeside. Then again, the fronds of the willow tree rather blocked the view of the boathouse, and blocked her from being seen by anyone who might be standing there.
Heart thundering, she had almost made it to the jetty when another splash brought her to a skidding halt on the slippery shore.
Practically in the center of the small boating lake, a spray of glittering droplets exploded into the air, revealing a head…
then a neck, then broad shoulders, then the rippling upper back of a man.
A man she knew, though she did not know if that made it better or worse that she could not stop staring.
He is… not wearing anything at all.
Not from the waist up, at least.
“What on earth do you think you are doing?” she cried out, scandalized.
Henry turned sharply, his hands gently swaying, treading water to keep himself from going under. “Pardon?”
“I said, what on earth do you think you are doing?” she repeated, not knowing where to look, yet incapable of diverting her attention from the smooth, defined muscle of his broad chest. Slick with water, gleaming in the beautiful sunlight as if he were made of some precious stone.
At that, he began to swim toward her, kicking his legs out like the most handsome, athletic frog she had ever seen. Startled, she hardly dared to look… and found herself half-relieved, half-disappointed to discover that he was wearing a short pair of trousers, cut off at the mid-calf.
“Actually, this is where I swim when I am in residence,” he replied. “This is my oasis.”
He slowed as the water shallowed, now able to stand up to his waist in the lake.
Thalia’s mouth fell open as she saw the full majesty of him, water running in lively rivulets over his chest and the ridges of a sculpted abdomen, before dropping back into the lake. He ran a hand through his dark hair to sweep it out of his face, pinching water from his eyes.
“Well, I was here first,” Thalia argued. “I was reading rather peacefully, so you should find somewhere else to entertain yourself. A pond, perhaps.”
Henry’s expression darkened, his posture straightening to make him appear even taller than he already was. “I am a tolerant man, Thalia, but you ought to be careful how you speak to me. I do not care for your tone.”
She flushed as if she had just been scolded by a governess, agitated by the cool, calm chiding. It was worse than being shouted at.
“You disturbed me!” she protested, squeezing her eyes shut; it was the only possible course of action, considering. “Of course I am not pleased about it! I thought someone was drowning!”
“Read your book,” he replied curtly. “I have no intention of bothering you.”
Clenching her hands into fists, fighting the urge to open her eyes again, she had no response for that.
How could she tell him that his very presence, as undressed as he was, was a bother?
How could she admit that she would not be able to read a word of her book if he was going to continue swimming in the lake half-naked?
“But… the splashing,” she fumbled to say. “I cannot read with that noise distracting me.”
With her eyes closed, the gentle splash of the water was already playing havoc with her imagination, picturing that smooth, glistening skin and hard muscle.
“I do not like to be ordered around in my own estate,” Henry said, suddenly too close.
Thalia jumped, quickly folding her arms behind her back so she would not be tempted to reach out to figure out just how close he was.
All those splashes had not been the sound of him in the water, but him getting out of the water.
And now, if she was judging correctly, he was right there in front of her.