Chapter Seventeen #2
‘We never courted. We never spent time together before we married, and though we discussed some things, there is much we didn’t have time or occasion to speak of.
I suppose that is a problem that plagues many,’ she said, offering a small smile, which Thorn took, with a grateful nod.
‘I for one didn’t imagine all that would happen between us.
I don’t just mean the intimacy, but everything being…
good. It felt easy, and simple, and I think we got swept up in it, and never really spoke of who we were, and what we need.
I thought I was helping, taking certain things in hand, and I see now, how that might’ve made you feel without purpose. So I am sorry too.’
‘You’ve nothing to be sorry for,’ he said, taking a step towards her, then stopping, realising perhaps it was still too early for proximity.
‘Whatever I felt, however inadequate I felt, that was my problem, not yours. I should’ve come to speak to you, I know it’s because of things I heard as a boy, about what a man should and shouldn’t be, and how I felt, being handed my father’s trade, and all Helen said about my lack of ambition, and all the world has to say on what a proper and right anything is, and my own skewed views.
Because of old wounds, and new ones too, and a sense I’ve always held that my worth depended on how well I controlled things, and handled things, and bettered myself, and supported others, but you’ve no blame in that. There are no excuses to be made.’
‘You should’ve spoken to me, properly,’ she agreed. ‘But I’m not making excuses for you. I happen to like explanations. They help me understand. And I think they can help us find ways to be better together, if you want that.’
‘Of course I want that,’ he promised vehemently, and she smiled, relieved.
‘Do you want to take over things with the farm?’
‘Not unless you wish me to. We continue as we were, together. With you mostly in charge, as you’ve the better grasp.’
‘If you’re sure.’
‘I am.’
‘Do you want the forge? I hoped it would make you feel at home, I thought you were upset about the market and our lack of sales, and that it would make you feel more like yourself. I know you missed it.’
‘I do want it. It was a beautiful gift, Hypatia, thank you,’ he breathed, his exhaustion and dishevelment not gone, but replaced with relief, and hope which matched her own.
He stepped closer, and so did she, a testament to her desire to make things good between them again.
‘It touched my heart, and that scared me, along with all the rest. But I loved it, and even last night, the whole party, it was wonderful. You’re wonderful.
In case I haven’t made it clear yet, I don’t want to lose you. ’
Reaching out with his clean, soil-stained hand, he made to take her hand, then thought better of it, and dropped it again.
‘I do like you, Thorn, very much,’ she said, taking it in hers, and twining their fingers.
‘More than I’ve ever liked anyone. To a degree which should probably frighten me, but strangely doesn’t.
I am more myself with you than I’ve ever been with anyone, I’ve not felt I need to hide my thoughts or how I see things, that I was…
that you accepted it all. And because of that, I thought, you saw things I should’ve spoken with you about.
What I said, about not minding when you touched me, when you held my hand—’
‘You don’t have to—’
‘I do,’ she said, holding his gaze, still contrite, but less troubled.
It heartened her, as every word, every gesture, every breath did.
‘Lest it drive a wedge between us again, which I don’t want.
I can’t have you thinking… I enjoy being with you, in every way, Thorn, know that.
I leave when we’ve finished because I don’t like sleeping with another.
I don’t…know how to explain it, but I don’t particularly care for sharing, talking, not like that, and I don’t like bodies in the aftermath, or not having my own space.
Me leaving, is merely because I like waking alone, and not having to share the blanket, and not being subjected to, or worrying about horrid morning breath.
There are so many reasons, but it isn’t because I’ve had my pleasure, and I am done.
I simply need a space, for myself. I always have, and likely always will.
And I know you express yourself with your touch, but it isn’t something I do.
I think you know I enjoy being with you, but I don’t need you to hold my hand, to feel something.
Maybe I’m broken in some way, but I just don’t need it.
I don’t mind it, but I don’t initiate it, not because I don’t care, but because I don’t feel an urge.
But if it’s that important to you, I can remind myself to do it, and I can try staying with you after our time together for a little while, and we can find a way to make it work.
I want it to work. I for one found so much more in this partnership than I expected, and I don’t want to lose you either. ’
‘I don’t want you to do anything which isn’t…
yourself, Hypatia,’ he reassured her, caressing her cheek with his knuckles, as if to say: I understand you, I won’t ask for you to go against yourself, but if you don’t mind me touching you, I shall.
‘Perhaps some talk, or time together, half an hour or something would be nice, if it doesn’t trouble you so much.
With a blanket between us, or time to clean up, if that is better.
And if touch isn’t something that comes naturally to you…
Words, kind words, every now and then, a reminder that you are here, and I am here, and we are together… ’
‘I can do that.’
He smiled, the past day or days catching up with them both.
Hearts sore, but mending, hope alive again in both of them, he touched his forehead to hers, and closed his eyes, and so did she, grateful for this moment, for him, for not having seen it all go to wrack and ruin.
Though someday, it might; someday, life might make them drift apart.
No matter how good things were now, it was likely down to being thrust together, and sharing so much compatibility.
Given some weeks, or months, or years, a more sedate life, a return to London, other interests, whatever it may be, the likelihood was they would return to what they’d agreed to be; business partners.
Friends too, if they were fortunate. That’s all they had promised each other, all either wanted, and that was that.
For now, they had whatever this was, and she for one, would treasure it.
‘Let’s go home,’ she whispered, feeling the strength of all that sentence held now.
‘Yes, I suppose we best do so, before Truffél and Lamb drive Langton to terrible deeds,’ Thorn agreed, standing straight again, but keeping hold of her hand as he led her onwards.
‘I will say, I am looking forward to some of what’s left of the food tonight.
I know you let everyone take some, but I’m not ashamed to say I was glad to hear some rhubarb tart remained.
We did well with that hog too. You weren’t lying about the deliciousness of our meat. It is rather special.’
‘We should try and win a prize!’ Hypatia said excitedly, stopping them again.
‘I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!
It’s the thing to do for well-to-do gentlemen, some even have portraits painted of their winning beasts!
’ Thorn said nothing, merely watched her, somewhat bemused, but she continued.
‘It’s more about size with swine I think, rather than lineage or breeding like horses, but we’ve both!
Belinda would be good, or perhaps Clyde, they would just need some extra care for a month or two, and we could see what fairs might have prizes, and then that would cement our reputation, without a doubt!
Hell, that horse farm in Sussex was nothing compared to what it is now that groom—well, the viscountess—won that race last year! ’
‘Did Langton not warn you of the dangers of naming the pigs?’ Thorn finally drawled, his bemusement spilling over into a dangerous grin; one she’d sorely missed.
‘We all end up leaving this world, one way or another. Giving something a name denotes respect, and care for it.’
‘I suppose you’re right. As for your idea… Maybe we should see if Reeves has any thoughts on the best fairs,’ he said, tugging her hand gently, and getting them walking again. ‘But you’ll have to tell me which ones Clyde and Belinda are, though I suppose I could hazard a guess…’
So Hypatia made him guess—which he did after a rather long game, that took them nearly the whole way home.
And as they stepped back into Gadmin Hall, though she knew the road ahead remained uncertain, and full of obstacles, she thought, if they could just continue as they were learning to now, there were a thousand more possibilities before them than there had been yesterday.
Not merely in regard to the farm, but in regard to this marriage, which felt truer than ever before.