Chapter 24
“He was an absolute bore before he met me at Oxford,” Luke crowed, clearly relishing the opportunity to make Henry squirm. “So serious, so studious. In truth, I did not think he was capable of smiling before I made it my mission to befriend him. But there is a sense of humor in there.”
Thalia smiled, taking a tiny sip of her brandy. The taste was unpleasant, but the warmth it conjured was rather nice.
“I have encountered that sense of humor recently,” she said, with a glance at Henry to see if he was blushing yet.
He sat steadfast in his chair, his face a perfect blank, though if eyes could sweat, he would be drenched.
“He thought it would be amusing to dunk his wife in the lake while I was merely trying to read in peace,” she added, determined to provoke a laugh from him, a hint that he remembered that moment fondly.
Owen, who did not seem to say much or smile at all, tutted at Henry. “Ruining a fine lady’s dress? What has become of you, Brooks. You used to be such a decent gentleman.”
Curious, Thalia stole a look at Owen’s face, a map of scars that made him seem twice as intimidating.
There was no mirth in his expression, no obvious amusement in his tone.
And yet… She might have been wrong, but it seemed that he was playing along with the jest, his sense of humor exceedingly dry.
So dry it could be mistaken for having no sense of humor at all.
“It was a moment of madness,” Henry said with a shrug that gave nothing away. “I thought, perhaps, she needed to be cooled.”
Luke cackled, clapping his hands together. “Duchess, you must never trust your husband’s stoic demeanor. Inside, he will be burning with embarrassment. It is one of his greatest tricks, to show the world nothing. A rather gifted performer when it comes to putting on masks.”
Is that true? Thalia discreetly looked at her husband, who had found a very interesting spot on the armrest to observe. These two men appeared to know him better than anyone; it had to be true.
“Did all three of you meet at Oxford?” she asked, allowing Henry a brief reprieve.
Owen nodded. “We were in the same college, and lived beside one another in the halls of residence.”
“Henry and I had the corner lodgings on the square, so I could see him from my window,” Luke continued.
“Every time I would see him, he would be hunched over his desk. That is when I decided that I would bring some entertainment into his life and, though it was like pulling teeth in the beginning, we have been friends ever since.”
Owen got up to pour himself some more brandy. “I, on the other hand, still do not know how I came to be friends with that court jester over there. I befriended Henry because we shared a similar taste for peace and quiet.”
“Because you know your life would be terribly dull without me,” Luke chirped, raising his glass in a toast to himself.
“And how I would relish that,” Owen countered with that same almost-smile in his voice, though his face remained implacable.
It was impossible not to warm to Luke immediately, with his lively character and ready smile, but Thalia felt herself warming to Owen’s stony exterior, too.
She could look at the three friends and understand how they had come to remain so close, their dynamic making perfect sense, even if it seemed like it should not.
“We used to swim in that lake that Henry dunked you in,” Owen said, returning to his seat. “In the summers between semesters, when his father was away in London.”
Luke nodded. “I would eagerly await the invitation. His father always used to spend a month in London during the summer, for reasons unknown, and we would descend. Walter and James would sometimes join us. The sister, too, though I daresay we liked that less. She would always try to spoil our games and adventures.”
“That sister is my dearest friend,” Thalia pointed out, a warning eyebrow raised.
Putting up his hands in mock surrender, Luke explained, “Yes, but she would want to do things her way, and when you are a young man with no responsibilities for a month, you do not want to be told how to enjoy yourself.”
“Some of us had responsibilities,” Owen remarked wryly. “You merely chose to ignore yours.”
Henry smiled. “Indeed, I doubt anyone could tell you how to enjoy yourself, Luke, when you are almost too capable in the art of it.”
“No,” Luke protested, “I simply understand that there is more to life than ledgers and bank drafts and business endeavors and doing boring things with boring people. Life is for reveling. Do not pretend you have not learned that because of me.”
Thalia had a feeling that they bickered rather a lot, as if they really were brothers.
It made her think of what Owen had said about brotherhood and where his loyalties lay.
Indeed, she took comfort from knowing that she had the protection of these three gentlemen, especially the one who would not meet her eye.
But it did not help me on the night I cannot remember… It was an unhappy thought, and this was not the occasion for unhappy thoughts.
“What is Walter like?” she asked, once the trio had agreed to disagree.
Luke and Owen exchanged a quick glance.
“A pleasant fellow,” Luke said, his tone odd. “A believer in the enjoyment of life, like myself.”
“Selfish. Ungrateful. Churlish,” Owen interjected, stony-faced.
Thalia frowned, looking to Henry for his answer.
“He is… different,” Henry said, as he had done once before. “He is entirely himself. In truth, I think you would like him very much if you were to meet him, but he has decided to loathe England, so I do not know if you will ever meet him.”
Owen’s eyes narrowed at that. “As if he would be able to live such a free and luxurious life in Morocco if it were not for his brother’s accounts here in England.
Honestly, I do not know why you still fund the libertine.
If he were my brother, he would have been cut off from all allowance until he proved he could be responsible. ”
“I have more money than I know what to do with,” Henry said softly. “Why would I not allow him to live his life as he sees fit? England, in truth, was not entirely kind to him.”
Thalia frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Rumors, gossip, accusations. Wherever he went, he was talked about,” Henry replied. “So, he left, and I cannot blame him.”
“No, you just permit him to live like a prince at your expense,” Owen muttered. “Someone who only writes when he needs more money; I cannot abide such people.”
Clearing her throat, Thalia raised an eyebrow at Owen. “Then, you must not think much of me, not over these past four years. Why, you must not think much of wives at all.” She smiled slyly. “I have to wonder if, perhaps, that is why you do not have one.”
The stern, intimidating man blinked in surprise… and Luke promptly erupted into laughter, his hand to his chest.
“Oh, she got you there!” he taunted playfully. “Bravo to the Duchess! As sharp in wit as she is exquisite in beauty!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Thalia saw Henry shoot a fierce glare at Luke, who did not notice; he was too busy chuckling.
Braced for some manner of rebuke for being rude, Thalia returned her attention to Owen. He stared at her for a moment, and it took every bit of nerve she possessed not to look away. Then, to her secret delight, he gave a small nod of his head, as if to say, Well done. A palpable hit.
“I happen to think rather highly of you,” he said. “Although, it is true, I cannot say the same about all women I have encountered in society.”
Luke sighed, leaning dramatically to one side. “If only there were a Thalia for us all, eh?”
Suddenly, Henry clapped his hands together.
“Gentlemen, I am afraid that is all we have time for this evening. I did not realize the hour was so late, and my wife, as you know, has only recently recovered from a terrible injury.” He gestured to the door.
“I will see you both soon, for our… meeting.”
A darkly amused smirk tugged up one corner of Owen’s lips. “Do consider my suggestion, Henry,” he said as he got up. “It might be of great help.”
“We shall manage perfectly well,” Henry replied, his voice tense.
More reluctantly, Luke got to his feet and held out his hand to Thalia. Not wanting to be impolite, she put her hand in his… and stifled a chuckle as she caught sight of her husband’s face while Luke kissed her hand.
“It was a pleasure, Duchess,” Luke said with a wink. “I am glad you have recovered your memories, as I am glad to see you and your husband in the same room for once. Long may it continue.”
A blush bloomed in Thalia’s cheeks, as she thought of the other night: how she and Henry had parted ways, how she had promised herself that she would not raise her hopes, in case it destroyed her when he left again.
“Thank you,” was all she replied.
Owen, on the other hand, did not attempt to kiss her hand. He simply gave another nod of his head, said a quick farewell, and headed out of the study with Luke in tow.
Yet, Thalia did not move from her chair, uncertain of whether Henry actually wanted her to retire for the night or if he had just wanted to be alone with her. He was just standing there by the brandy decanter, saying nothing, doing nothing.
“We spoke of your brother,” she said clumsily, compelled to fill the uneasy silence. “But I have been wondering: did you know about my brother’s debts as well as my father’s debts when you proposed marriage?”
Henry nodded. “Your family’s debts were the reason why I chose to propose to you. But I did not manage your brother’s debts. I offered, but he asked to be given time to remedy them himself.” He paused. “Some time later, he began asking you for money. I did not interfere.”
It took a few moments for his words to sink in; they were so unusual, so unbelievable.
“Why would anyone choose such a burden?” she blurted out, her thoughts given voice. “Why would you choose to marry into a family of debtors?”
Henry sipped his brandy, his gaze soft. “To help.” He paused. “Why did you want to marry for love in a society where that is such a rarity?”
“You will think it is silly,” she replied, shaking her head.
“I do not think anything you do or say is silly. And, being the gentleman I am, even if I were to find it silly, I would not say so,” he said, a hint of mischief in his beautiful blue eyes.
Nevertheless, she hesitated. It was not something she was embarrassed about, but it was such a long-ago dream now that speaking of it was like trying to play a song you had heard just once.
“I was raised with fairytales and love stories,” she began, staring down into what was left of her drink.
“My mother would read them to me, even when I was probably too old to have stories read to me. I used Dorothy as my excuse to keep listening, and, when my mother was gone, I took over. It was my mother’s dying wish that I should marry for love, and I believed in this dream of finding that perfect love, until… well, you know the rest.”
“A noble wish,” he said quietly. “A noble dream.”
Thalia laughed tightly. “For Dorothy, I hope it will come true. Indeed, she stands a fair chance because of you, because of… this.”
She gestured awkwardly between them.
“I pray she does not squander the opportunity on someone unworthy,” he said.
“As do I.”
A more comfortable sort of silence fell between them, interrupted by the lively crackle of the fire in the grate and the hoot of owls calling to one another, somewhere in the dark beyond the windows.
“What about motherhood?” Henry asked a short while later, confusion creasing his brow. “Your request, I mean. Why did you ask that of me when you did?”
The pages of the diary turned in Thalia’s mind, flipping through all of those lonely moments, the feelings of isolation and despair, the emptiness and silence of Holdridge Court. It had been a sanctuary, true, but, as she had discovered, a sanctuary could easily become a prison of one’s own making.
“It was the only dream left,” she replied. “I suppose I tried to suppress it by founding those schools, but… it was not the same. I reached a point where I wanted someone to care for, so I decided to make the request.”
“And is that something you still want?”
When she met his gaze, he was looking at her with such strange intensity: an expression that leaned toward fear, or apprehension at the very least. As if he did not necessarily want to learn of her answer to that.
I am falling in love with you, she realized, with some fear of her own. And you are most likely going to leave me again. She had sensed it when he departed her bedchamber three days ago, and she sensed it again now; that he was only asking so he could let her down gently.
More than ever, she wanted a child with him…
but she would not raise a child without him.
She could not bear the thought of having to explain to her beloved son or daughter why their father was never there, why he was a stranger in their lives; just someone who sent money, maybe a letter or two, and nothing more.
“No,” she replied. “I think the fall knocked that out of me.”
Henry nodded. “Yes, the physician did warn against it, after all.”
And that, it seemed, was that. Another dream gone. Thalia’s last dream, whipped away by the same man who had taken her first dream too. The same man who, deep down, she wished would give back both of her dreams at once.