Chapter 18
Eighteen
For Thalia, it was a lonely few days that followed the garden party.
In many ways, they were not so different to how things had been when Thalia first moved into Westvale Estate. She and Olivia living like strangers in the castle, having one another for company, always aware that there was a third member of their household who refused to join them.
It felt different now to how it had. It felt more purposeful. More deliberate. Or maybe it was simply because for a short time there, Ronan had started to join them, leaving the shadows and stepping into the light so that they had felt almost like a family…
It has only been a few days, but it feels like more than that. And this home, my life, feels all the emptier because of it.
Thalia could not stop thinking about what had almost happened.
The moment which had passed between her and Ronan.
The kiss that… to say it had almost been felt far too optimistic.
Was it in her own head? Had she seen something that wasn’t even there?
She did not think so at the time, but as the days dragged on, she was forced to consider that she and Ronan had never been and never would be what she wanted.
And she did want it too. That was now a truth she could no longer ignore.
She was married. Olivia was safe and looked after.
With that taken care of, it was time that Thalia thought ahead, what might come of her life now that she had everything.
And when she did, it was Ronan who she thought of; the dim possibility that more might grow between them. If only he would let it.
How might she show him that such a thing was not to be feared? She had no idea. Worse than that, she did not know if such a thing was even possible.
So, she spent those days doing her best to ignore what had happened, sensing Ronan in the castle, just as she sensed him purposefully trying to avoid her.
On the third day, it was a relief when Albert informed her that Ronan would be leaving for the afternoon.
She did not ask where he was going, happy to be free from his presence because whenever he was home, she could feel him there.
Early evening was approaching and with Olivia napping, Thalia found herself wandering the castle. She had nowhere to go, was not looking for anything in particular, which was why she found herself stepping into the music room on the third level.
She had not been in this room before. It was dark, musty and damp, and it felt as if nobody had entered it for years. She carried in her hand a lantern, and she held it up, spreading its dim flame across the room where it shone upon a pianoforte.
With nothing to do, and wondering if she still knew how to play as it had been years, Thalia sat down at the pianoforte, placed the lantern by her feet, lifted the case, and started to play.
She lost herself in the moment. Her eyes closed and her fingers moved on instinct, the melody was haunting and somber, her mind drifting back to when she had first learned this particular tune.
It had been taught to her by a close friend, one she loved dearly, one who was no longer with her but of whom she was still reminded every day…
“I didn’t know you played.” Ronan’s voice was low, barely heard above her playing.
Thalia’s eyes shot open, and she nearly fell from the seat. “Oh!”
He was standing just inside the room, but far enough back so the light from the lantern did not reach him. She was hardly able to make him out, but his eyes somehow caught the orange ambers of the light and glimmered as they watched her.
It was the first time they had spoken or seen one another since the garden party and Thalia… she found herself nervous. Her heart started to race, and her breathing grew heavy. A part of her wanted to stand up and walk out, to save herself from whatever this was.
Another part of her was not quite ready to give up on the duke. And that he had come to see her suggested that he was not quite ready to give up on her either.
“Not very well,” she said with a light chuckle.
“No,” he said. “I did not recognize the song, but it was beautiful.”
She scoffed but smiled as she did. “A friend taught it to me. I do not know the name. I suspect that she wrote it herself.”
“That’s quite the talent.”
“She was very talented…” Thalia’s smile grew as she remembered this particular friend, and she felt a tear reach her right eye. “Not just in music, but so many things.”
Ronan stayed across the room, watching her always. “Are you two still close?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I am afraid not.”
He tensed as if he had expected the answer. “Such is the way with friendships. Most relationships, I find. We think these things are static and set to last forever. But in my experience…” His eyes darkened. “None of it lasts.”
Thalia frowned at herself. There was something personal about the way that Ronan was speaking. Words not meant to do with her and this friend, but his own experiences. Indeed, the shadows around him grew darker, as if he was angered by the notion.
He does not trust easily. But he does not want to. Something happened to him in the past, enough to warn him off all and any relationships. Obvious, now that I think about it.
Thalia had been doing much thinking about the duke, mostly why he was so standoffish. It was easy to just think that was his way, that he had always been a loner and simply did not know how to open up. But that never felt right to her.
In Thalia’s eyes, Ronan was fighting against something. A dark past that haunted him. And in that, it was no wonder he spurned her the way he did. As she knew so little about him, he knew just as little about her. Why would he trust her when she had given him no reason to?
Her eyes turned to the pianoforte, her memory going back to that friend of hers. She bit into her lip as she considered what she was about to do, a sudden idea… a gamble, it felt like. A means by which she might bridge the gap which existed between her and Ronan.
She had a secret that nobody else knew. And in that moment, she came to understand that, of all the people in this world, Ronan deserved to know it. All he had done for her and Olivia… he deserves the truth. He deserves to know who he is married to.
And then, maybe, he would come to trust her.
“I think you misunderstand me…” She shifted on the seat, lifting her legs over so she could face Ronan properly. “Me and this friend, we didn’t have a falling out or anything like that. She… sadly… she died not so long ago.”
Ronan balked. “I… I am sorry. I did not…”
She smiled because she did not want to scare him away. “It is quite alright, and you couldn’t have known. But was it not for that, she and I would still be best friends. In a way, I still consider that she is.”
She looked at him then, her expression imploring, coaxing him from the shadows so he would ask the question. She needed him to ask.
And slowly, Ronan started to edge forward, creeping closer from the shadows and stepping into the light. “What happened?”
She nodded. “She was my best friend from childhood, so close to me that we were almost sisters. I was never very close with my father, and that was how he liked it. I always felt that he saw me as a tool to be used, rather than a daughter to be loved. But this friend…” She smiled softly.
“I knew she would do anything for me, and I for her. So, when she fell in love with one of her father’s tenants and ran away with him, I…
” She grimaced as if embarrassed. “I followed.”
Ronan’s eyes widened. “You mean…”
“The man she fell in love with was not well, and he died shortly after they left together. I knew she would need me, and I wanted to be there for her. And given that she was pregnant with his child…” She shrugged. “I had no doubt she would need me all the more.”
Ronan came closer still, standing now at the end of the pianoforte. “This child, it is…” He did not say it, but he did not need to.
“She died during childbirth,” Thalia explained.
As she spoke, she felt her throat constricting, tears threatening to burst from her eyes.
“But before she died, I made a promise. A promise I was happy to make and keep.” Eyes on Ronan, her stare was unblinking.
“That I would raise her daughter as my own and that I would do everything I could to ensure that she had the life she deserved.” She bowed her head.
“Which I feel like I have finally achieved.”
Ronan said nothing at first, but she could feel him watching her. And she could sense the compassion in his eyes.
“You did what you had to do,” he said finally as he took a further step down the pianoforte toward her. “No one should begrudge you for that.”
She scoffed. “Which they have done.”
“Only because nobody knows the truth,” he said. “If they found out…”
“It would only make things worse.” She shook her head. “Olivia might not be of my blood, but that matters not to me. She is my daughter as far as I am concerned, and nothing will change that.”
Ronan reached the end of the pianoforte, a mere foot from where she was sitting. She glanced up, saw him watching her with the same sense of compassion, and she bowed her head again.
“I should have told you,” she said softly.
“You did,” he said. “You told me already that she was not your daughter.”
“But not the whole truth,” she said. “If you had known… I worried you might have turned her away. Born as she was, I worried you might have thought it beneath you.” She sighed deeply, sniffing back tears.
“I know this marriage was not something you wanted, and I know you have already done so much. I am sorry…” She forced herself to look at him then, letting the tears well in her eyes.
“I am so sorry to have brought you into this.”