Chapter 16 #2
She laughed, but it was a desperate sound, a little lost. He took her hand in both of his, held them gently, kissed her palm, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her
He did not know how long they stayed there. Time stopped existing until Aria stepped into the door.
“Oh!” She spun around, covering her eyes. “I do apologize for the intrusion. I was sent to find Tessa. Your parents are here, Tessa.” She peeked over her shoulders, grinned.
And Remmy let Tessa go. “We’ll talk later.”
She clung to him, shaking her head. “Come with me please, Remmy. I need you to be there. I cannot think straight, and my heart hurts. I might be sick. Please come with me.”
Ah. He knew what an ailing heart felt like.
“Very well.” He followed her outside where her parents and Tilbury waited.
And Verity, bouncing on her toes as his sister Aria always did, giving Tessa a wave, trying to hide it.
Had that little girl felt as lonely as Tessa always had when they’d been children?
Had she cried for missing her older sister?
Remmy stayed a few steps behind Tessa, feeling out of place.
He hadn’t felt this small since the day Tessa left with Lady Chattaway.
He’d died a bit that day, picked himself back up, put away the feel of Tessa’s hand last clasped in his as he’d helped her up into the coach, and set to work to build a life.
It had all been for her, hadn’t it. He hated it when his siblings were right.
“Shall we walk in the gardens?” Tessa asked.
“I suppose.” Her mother looped her arm through Tessa’s with a quick glance at Remmy. Quick but lethal. He heard her message clearly enough.
Stay away.
The groups coalesced naturally after that—the vicar and the rector took the lead together, and Remmy and Verity rounded out the back.
He tried not to watch Tessa walk as they rounded the house for the gardens. He failed. In that soft green, her curves were generous, elegant. He wanted to kiss each hip before stepping between them. He wanted to kiss her breast over her heart before sliding into her.
“You’re quiet.”
He almost stumbled but righted himself and glanced at the thirteen-year-old who’d become his walking companion. “I’m ruminating.”
“It’s not a very charming thing to do. I expected more from you. Aria says you’re her favorite brother.”
“Of course I am. And you’re right. I’m not being a good companion. How shall I charm you, Miss Verity?”
“Any way you please. You’re the expert, so I hear.”
“And you are thirteen, so my usual methods are not applicable.”
“I’m scandalized!” She sounded delighted. “I’ll tell Aria you’re my favorite, too.”
He glanced at Tilbury, leading the walk. “Am I?”
“Oh yes.” Her own gaze followed his, found his target. “Absolutely you are.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. Tell me, Miss Verity, are you glad to have your sister back?”
The girl inhaled. She exhaled. She clasped her hands together. “More than you can guess, Mr. Ives.”
He knew theatre, and this young woman was made for it. “You should hate to lose her again.”
“I won’t lose her again.”
So confident that her sister would make the right choice.
Had the ground become molasses? Or his boots bricks? He could barely pick up his feet.
In front of them, Tessa and her mother slowed their pace as they reached the roses. And Verity and Remmy came closer, close enough to hear their conversation.
“I am so proud of you,” Mrs. King was saying. “You have grown up. You finally see what is important in the world.”
Tessa’s neck was bent, her shoulders caved in. “Yes, Mother. I do.”
“You shall have a lovely wedding. Sensible but pretty. Like you.” Mrs. King scowled at the flower in Tessa’s hair, the one Remmy had used to crown her Titania. “Such adornments are too elaborate.” She plucked the bloom from the braid where Tessa had coiled it and dropped it to the ground.
Verity picked it up and handed it to Remmy. “Will you put it in my hair, just as it was in Tessa’s?”
He took it and tucked it behind this little one’s ear. “There. Beautiful as your sister.”
Her sun-bright grin reminded him of another. But Tessa’s grin had been extinguished.
Mrs. King laid a hand on Tessa’s shoulder.
“Now that you are home, we will do everything together. Until you wed, of course. I have all your old belongings in the attic. We’ll pull them out.
And surely Verity’s behavior will improve with such an example as you to guide her.
And the example of your esteemed future husband. ”
Tilbury seemed to have heard that. He glanced backward, cheeks rushed red.
“Apologies,” Tessa mouthed toward him. To her mother, she said, “You should not assume—”
“But Tessa”—her mother grasped her hands—“it will make me so happy.” She wrapped her eldest daughter in a hug. “So very happy if you marry him.”
Tessa froze, her arms stiff at her sides.
Remmy’s heart stopped. Waiting seemed to take forever. And in forever hung a guillotine.
Tessa cut the rope and hugged her mother back.
She’d made a choice, and Remmy had lost.
As Tessa hid her face in her mother’s neck, Remmy patted Verity’s shoulder. “Take good care of your sister. Love her hard for me, yes? Love her well.”
“Where are you going?”
And he was going, around the still-hugging forms of Tessa and Mrs. King, around the vicar and the rector, toward the woods where he could be with the ghosts a little while.
“Stop him, Tessa!” Verity urged.
Remmy stopped, half waiting for the sound of footsteps that never came.
She wouldn’t stop him. And that made him bloody angry.
He swung back around, found Tessa watching him, a step away from her mother, a step closer to him. To the vicar, too.
“I’m good enough a man to walk away,” he said, holding Tessa’s gaze, “Because I don’t want my happiness. I want yours. And if this”—he waved at her mother, her father, Tilbury—“makes you happy, I’ll cut my own heart out to give you what you want.”
He spun around and got two steps into his misery before he changed his mind.
“Actually, I’m not that good a man.” With a few running steps, he swung his fist right into Tilbury’s nose, relished the crack of bone on bone, then walked into the woods. Alone.