Chapter Twenty-One #2
‘This is absurd,’ her father finally said, breaking under the pressure; sweating from it, or the growing heat from the very bright sun, Hypatia wasn’t sure, but would wager on the former.
‘You must surely see now, Patty,’ he continued, turning his gaze on her, her mother and sister joining in, knowing their cues.
‘This was an utter mistake. A catastrophe. You cannot live like this. You’ve had your…
fun, made your point, or whatever this was all about, and now it is time to return to your family.
You owe this man nothing, we need you, and we cannot do without you.
Your sister needs you, and you must distance yourself from this abhorrent life or she’ll have nothing, be forced to marry some viscount rather than the duke she deserves, and everything is a mess without you. ’
‘I’m staying, Father,’ Hypatia said simply. ‘And I should appreciate it if you called me by my name. Not Patty. I did always despise that moniker.’
Her father started to grumble, searching for words, whilst her mother and sister began with the sniffing and tears. Thorn squeezed her hand, and she looked over at him, to find him silently asking if there was anything more she wished to add; she shook her head.
‘There is a cottage available to you for the night,’ Thorn told them, and that cut the hysterics, effrontery rapidly replacing them. ‘Mary, or one of the others, will see to it you find your way there, and are well looked after.’
‘But—’ her father began.
‘You will remain there tonight, and depart tomorrow, by whatever means you came. And that is the end of it.’
Her father looked about ready to argue, but instead recognised the defeat, and stood, throwing his moth-eaten napkin onto the table, and gesturing for her mother and sister to rise as well.
‘Never in my life, have I been subject to such egregious treatment. You, sir, are the furthest thing from nobility one could dredge up from the gutters in St Giles.’
‘Good,’ Thorn said, smiling proudly.
And so her family stormed off, back into the house, voices and cries echoing in their wake.
Then there was only one left…
Malek looked about ready to leave too, but Thorn gave him a warning look, and so he focused again on moving the crumbs in his chipped plate around.
‘Your turn, Helen.’
Helen’s eyes danced between Thorn and Hypatia, and though she was minded like Malek to leave Thorn and Helen to this, Thorn was giving no sign he wanted her gone, or to do this alone, and so she remained, bracing herself for whatever came next.
‘It was admittedly rather rash,’ she said, as airily as possible, though Hypatia could tell there were a thousand other serious words dancing between every syllable.
‘I heard Malek was coming, and so I begged him to take me. I couldn’t…
It wasn’t until you left, that I realised I couldn’t leave it all as it had been.
I might’ve written, but that seemed the move of a coward, and I’ve been enough of one.
I cannot move on without asking you again for your forgiveness. ’
That wasn’t everything, but for the sake of them all just now, Hypatia, and she felt Thorn too, wouldn’t press the woman further; besides, she’d eviscerated herself enough publicly.
‘You have it,’ Thorn said unhesitatingly. ‘I’ll never be happy with what you and Frank did, but I forgive you both. As I hope you’ll forgive me, for how I failed in being… In taking you for granted, and so much else.’
Nodding, Helen wiped the bottom of her shining eyes.
‘Thank you, Thorn.’
‘We’ve secured you a room in the village for tonight,’ Hypatia told her, and she smiled graciously. ‘I’ll accompany you, and advise you on travel arrangements for your return home.’
‘Many thanks, Lady Gadmin.’
‘Of course.’ With a nod, and a squeeze of Thorn’s hand, she rose, releasing it. The gentlemen rose too, as Helen did. ‘Thorn, we’ll leave you and Mr Smith to speak of your further arrangements.’
‘Are you sure, Hypatia?’ Thorn whispered as she turned to go, and lead Helen on. ‘You don’t have to do this. Henry, or one of the others can go.’
‘I’m sure, Thorn.’
Steadying herself with one final look in his steadying grey eyes, she smiled reassuringly, and made to go again; this time he stopped her with a blatantly possessive, and not unwelcome kiss, before finally releasing her.
‘Until later,’ he promised, raising his brow in a manner that suggested many things.
So she smiled, wider, truer, and led Helen on.
What a day this has been; and it is far from over.
‘This is truly beautiful country,’ Helen said, a few moments after they’d set off, Hypatia driving them on at a quiet, but determined pace in a cart, as Ian had taken her family in the carriage; their own not prepared, and Ian having been advised that his priority was to get the Quincys off the grounds by any and all means. ‘I can see its appeal.’
‘Yes, I find that I have quite fallen in love with it,’ Hypatia said, with an ease she didn’t expect to have with the woman.
But then, away from her family, from Thorn even, she found she was better able to focus on what truly lay in her heart, and the simple truth was, she bore this woman no ill-will, though she was still immensely curious about many things, some of which she might gain answers to if she had but the courage to ask; others that she would never know, yet be at peace with.
There was an understanding of her now, here, alone on the road to Sandham, in the blinding summer sunshine, a light breeze restoring both their spirits, and bruised hearts.
‘It is very good of you to take me yourself,’ Helen said, somewhat sheepishly after a long moment watching hedgerows pass them by. ‘I could’ve made my own way.’
‘I know.’
‘You’re not at all what I expected.’
‘From a countess or from the woman whom Thorn married?’
‘Both. Either,’ Helen said, a smile in her voice, and Hypatia smiled too.
‘You’re not what I expected either.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘It’s meant as one.’ They fell into silence for another mile or so, Hypatia dipping her head in greeting as they passed some workers they knew, then finally, she spoke again, seizing the opportunity she doubted she would ever have again. ‘Did you come in hope of rekindling things with Thorn?’
‘I…’
Glancing over, Hypatia found the woman gaping as she searched for words; guilt in her eyes.
‘It’s all right,’ she reassured Helen, who only seemed more flustered at that. ‘It’s natural, you two shared many years together.’
‘It isn’t because of his change in circumstance,’ Helen said after a while, realising surely, that Hypatia bore her no ill-will, and that such answers and talk were needed.
‘If it was, you might’ve tried to win him back sooner,’ she commented, and Helen laughed.
‘True.’
‘Are things not going well with Frank?’
‘It is…difficult,’ she sighed. ‘But it feels so strange speaking to you of all people about this…’
‘Who else have you to speak of it with just now?’
Another sigh, and Helen relented fully; when Hypatia glanced over again, as they turned onto another lane, she found the woman somewhat deflated, and resigned.
‘We are both affected by the loss of Thorn, by our own guilt at our actions. And things… Well, in many ways, nothing much has changed from how it was with Thorn, and so I find myself looking to the past, wondering if I made choices for the wrong reasons, or asked for too much.’
‘I asked Thorn about you. He regrets, or regretted, I’m not certain, how he treated you.
You should know that. He told me, he only realised recently, that he’d never truly spoken to you, asked what you wanted, worked with you, to achieve and obtain what both or either of you wanted.
He made excuses in many ways to preserve things as they were, since he found them to be just fine.
What you and Frank did injured him, but he admitted he had his own large part to play in your relationship not being all it might’ve been before.
I probably shouldn’t be sharing this with you, but I’m not sure Thorn ever will, and I feel as you’ve the right to hear it. ’
‘Sometimes it is up to others who understand us better than we do ourselves, to speak our truths to those who need it. So thank you.’
Slowing the cart to a halt in a small verge, Hypatia stopped, and turned to Helen, admiring her perspicacity, and appreciating her words fully.
‘Do you love Frank?’
‘Yes,’ Helen admitted quietly, shame marring her joy. ‘He loves me, fulfils me in ways…’
‘Thorn never could.’ Helen nodded, and so did Hypatia, taking a deep breath.
‘I don’t seek to excuse myself, but I don’t think I would’ve done what I did had I not, much as I regret it.’
‘Then you should fight for what you have, and be honest with Frank in ways you and Thorn never were. Be clear about what you want, and when, and how, and if he cannot give you that, and you cannot give him what he wishes for, then perhaps, love isn’t enough.’
‘You’re very wise, my lady.’
‘Am I?’ Hypatia shrugged, and got them moving again. ‘If you say so.’
‘You’re quite…odd, if you don’t mind me saying,’ Helen chuckled, and Hypatia shook her head. ‘But I see you and Thorn, you suit in ways we never could’ve. You’ve done him good, I see the change in him, and he is happy.’
‘We are doing well with the house, and the farm, and things are looking up.’
‘You, make him happy. He loves you very much, and all I can say is that I am happy for you both.’
Hypatia smiled non-committally, not bothering to refute the woman’s assessment, particularly since she didn’t want to debate its veracity.
That Thorn was happy, that she was, was undeniable, and yes, they contributed to each other’s happiness, and liked each other, and cared for each other deeply, but as for love, romantic love as Helen suggested, and Hypatia being the predominant source of Thorn’s happiness…
It simply couldn’t be true. For many reasons, including and not limited to the fact that Hypatia couldn’t…
couldn’t bear the weight of that. The responsibility, the weight, of holding another’s happiness, it was too much.
There was a difference, between care, and sacrifice, and duty, and twisting oneself into what the other needed, and knowing that one wrong word or move or choice could mar another’s joy or damn their soul to torment.
It was wrong, and couldn’t last, and to hold such power over someone like that, it was madness, and irresponsible, and terrifying, and so it couldn’t be true.
It couldn’t be love, because Thorn himself had said what could happen to one who loved—so many had over the millennia since man’s existence—and that was the cost, and neither of them wanted it, and they barely knew each other, and it didn’t feel like whisky, and so many other reasons.
Patently ignoring that Thorn might very well be a predominant source of her happiness and joy, and without him, she wouldn’t quite have so much of it, or that she’d not twisted herself into anything but herself for him, Hypatia drove them on into Sandham.
‘Are you sure you won’t return to Gadmin Hall for dinner?’ she asked Helen, having introduced her to Mrs Jennings, whose room she would be taking for the night, and explained the best way to get back to Essex. ‘You are welcome, I am sure there will be plenty of food.’
‘I don’t think that is the best idea,’ Helen said graciously. ‘But thank you.’
‘Well, then, I suppose this is goodbye. I wish you all the best. I hope things work out for you and Frank, and perhaps, someday, Thorn will bring me to visit, and we can all meet again.’
‘I would like that, my lady. And thank you, for everything.’
‘You are welcome. I’m glad you came.’
‘So am I.’
‘Good day, then, Helen.’
‘Good day, my lady.’
With a smile, the two parted, and Hypatia got back on her cart, and drove it all the way home, taking her time, as the solitude was just what she needed to return to herself.
To give Helen’s words their proper perspective, and cast them off, and not worry anymore that she or her husband had somehow fallen in love with each other.
It had never been part of their agreement, and though she shouldn’t find it so terrifying at all, she certainly did, and so she rescinded an idea she’d toyed quietly with for some time since coming here, that perhaps it was worth the trouble, and that she might like to try it someday.
For I find now, it isn’t a prospect I delight in any longer.