Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
“You seem to have made a full recovery.” His grandmother surveyed Thomas from the sofa across from him.
They were sitting in the drawing room of the Elington estate. Thomas and Vivian were seated side by side. Her engagement ring sparkled as it caught the sunlight streaming through the window.
Thomas watched her as she poured the tea, feeling her smile tug a smile onto his own. His sickness was no longer coughing or sneezing, but now and then, his chest felt tight.
“Thanks to your remedies.” Vivian handed the Dowager Duchess a mug of tea. “Though it was a battle to get him to take the last lot.”
“His father was just as stubborn.” His grandmother made a tutting noise. “When he was a boy, I threatened to sit on him if he did not do as he was told.”
“Perhaps I shall do that next time.” Vivian placed a hand on Thomas’s thigh and squeezed it.
Warmth spread through him, even as he felt his chest constrict. Next time. His hand shook slightly, and he hastily clenched it.
“As tempting as that sounds, I do not plan on there being a next time.” Thomas tried to keep his voice calm.
Vivian choked on her tea, her cheeks going bright red. Thomas rubbed her back, and she shook her head. “Are you all right?”
“Tea went down the wrong way.” She coughed.
“You should time your compliments better, Thomas.” He could hear the amusement in his grandmother’s voice even without seeing her face.
“My lady?” a voice said from the door, and they all turned around to see Mrs. Bird standing in the doorway.
“My apologies for interrupting, but there’s been a problem with the delivery, and we will need to change the dinner menu.
And with us needing to get the London house ready for your return, we could really use your insight. ”
“Of course.” Vivian nodded and stood up. “You will excuse me, Agatha, but duty calls.”
“I can come with you.” Thomas tried to stand up and accompany her, but Vivian waved him away, gesturing to the sofa.
“I suspect this will take some time to sort out, and I can handle it without you. Enjoy the afternoon with your grandmother. If I need your help, I will send someone for you.”
She smiled at him, turned, and followed Mrs. Bird. Thomas watched her go, his hand resting where hers had been, eyes following the sway of her hips.
“Vivian seems to be settling into the role of Marchioness rather well.” His grandmother said.
“She has a wonderful mind. And once she gets her teeth into a project, there is no stopping her. You know, she managed to convince the Millers to upgrade their flock of sheep. One conversation with Mr. Miller was all it took.” He shook his head, rubbing a hand along his jaw.
“It was amazing to watch. It would have made you proud.”
Her voice sounded deliberately calm. “It clearly has affected you.”
“I challenge anyone to see what I saw and not be moved. She cut right to the heart of it, disarmed him with her earnestness, and by the end of the conversation, he wanted to hear more of her ideas.” Thomas smiled at the memory, remembering the angry farmer melting at Vivian’s earnest smile and complete certainty in her proposal.
“The practicality that I saw when we first met—it has bloomed into something else entirely. It is like watching her step into herself.”
“Such high praise.” His grandmother sipped her tea. “Unlike you to be so lavish with such things.”
“I seldom have reason to be.” Thomas ran a hand through his hair, his eyes drifting back toward the door. “She is exceptional, but I expect you already know that.”
Thomas arched an eyebrow at his grandmother, who stretched languidly on the sofa, her eyes glittering with mischief. “There is more to her than meets the eye; that is certain. It is a pity I will not get to see her in full bloom.”
“If you are trying to convince me of your imminent death, Grandmama, it will not work. It did not work the first time, and it definitely will not a second.” Thomas gave her a frank look. “You may have caught everyone else, but you will not fool me.”
“I am old. Who knows how many days I have left?” His grandmother placed a hand on her forehead and leaned back dramatically.
Thomas rolled his eyes and poured them both another cup of tea. “I suspect it is a matter of years, not days. You are strong as an ox.”
“You should be so lucky, though I do not care to be compared to an ox.” His grandmother gave him a mock offended look. “But that is not what I meant. I was saying that when you go your separate ways, I expect I will see less of her. After all, you only have two weeks left together.”
Thomas paused with his mug halfway to his lips. That cannot be right? Surely we have more time than that. Where had the time gone? His eyes darted to the doorway and then back to his grandmother, who was surveying him over the lip of her cup.
“A pity, the two of you seem to be quite the partnership.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair.
“We do. In truth, it has given me more time than I expected. Especially when it comes to the household. Everything runs like clockwork now that she is in charge of things.” He rubbed his neck. “And the staff adore her.”
His grandmother gave him a shrewd look. “It sounds to me like it makes far more sense for her to stay.”
Thomas paused, his eyes going to the door and then back to his grandmother. What will this place be like when she is gone? His stomach felt hollow, and he shook himself.
“If that is what she wants, then she is welcome to. This is her home as well.”
“Have you asked her?” the Dowager Duchess asked.
“Asked her what?” he swallowed.
His grandmother sighed. “I think you know the answer to that, Thomas.”
“I have not asked her; I have been under the weather and wanted to get everything set up for her security. The rings, the jewelry, her cottage in the lake district. Her settlement.” He twisted the wedding band on his own hand absently.
“It will see her more than taken care of for the rest of her life.”
His grandmother frowned. “And why are you thinking about her settlement? You are young and healthy, unlikely to leave her a widow.”
“I felt it best to take precautions. She has dealt with enough uncertainty in her life. This way, she knows she will always be cared for.” He shrugged.
If I ask her to stay, I will know that it is a choice, not an obligation.
“Financially speaking, certainly. Please, Thomas, tell me you are not starting to believe in that foolishness about the curse.” The Dowager Duchess leaned forward and grabbed Thomas’s hand.
“What? Of course not. You know I do not believe in such superstitious nonsense.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his ears. “I do not even have any symptoms. Why should such a thing worry me? I have had no outbursts, no strange bleeding.”
“Neither your father nor your grandfather experienced any such symptoms.” His grandmother frowned at him.
Thomas kept his voice even, trying not to betray his emotions as he asked. “What did they experience?”
“Why does it matter?” his grandmother narrowed her eyes.
“It does not. I am simply curious. My memory of that time is hazy. I remember Father in bed.”
Screaming in the middle of the night as his body was wracked with fever and spasms. He shrugged and stretched, as though it was of no importance to him.
“I would rather know than not; if I get sick again, knowing what they experienced will help me reassure Vivian that I am not at any risk.”
It was not entirely a lie. Though Vivian professed not to believe in the curse, she had seemed very worried about him when he was unwell. He absently ran his hands across his knuckles, thinking of how she had stayed by his side until his fever had broken.
He remembered his mother, the way she had wasted away at his father’s side. I will not do that to Vivian. There could be no question of changing their plans, of asking her to remain with him until he could rule out even the barest chance that he might die.
She might not even want to stay. He wished the thought was a comforting one instead of something that felt like a pinprick in his heart.
His grandmother nodded slowly. “Very well. I would not want her to worry about you.”
Thomas leaned forward, waiting for his grandmother to list the symptoms. He was not overly concerned; after all, his memory of his father’s condition was nothing like anything he had experienced. But surely it could not hurt to be sure.
“Well, the symptoms began for both of them when they were about three-and-thirty.” She opened her mouth to speak, but Thomas interjected.
“That cannot be right. Father was five-and-thirty when he died. That would mean he had only two years from when the symptoms began. But grandfather was near two score when he passed.” Thomas frowned.
What did that mean?
His grandmother seemed unbothered by this fact. “You know that I hate interruptions, Thomas. If you are going to make me relive those ghastly years, you would do well to listen.”
“My apologies, Grandmama, I was just… I was surprised that it seemed to have been so much quicker for Father.”
If it is a curse, then does that mean it gets stronger with each generation? He took a deep breath, forcing himself to smile.
He gestured for his grandmother to continue, ignoring the hardening knot of unease forming in his stomach.
His grandmother ticked off the symptoms on her fingers.
“Your grandfather complained of headaches first, and then stomach pains. Tremors in their hands. They both suffered fits of palsy, horrendous cramps, vomiting, and periods of delirium. At one point, your father was convinced he could fly. That was a difficult night for all of us.”
Thomas felt relief sweep over him. Nothing like my sickness. Besides, he was too young for the curse. Not that he believed in it.
“And of course, there was the fever. That came and went and disappeared altogether at the end. The cough and general congestion. Your grandfather often complained of a tightness across his chest and a racing heart.” His grandmother made a dismissive gesture, continuing to list the symptoms, but Thomas did not hear her.
Thomas’s stomach dropped, and he clutched the bottom of the sofa tightly. The room appeared to sway around him.
It could mean nothing. I have no other symptoms. Or did he? After all, his hands had shaken earlier in the day.
“They both kept extensive diaries. Your father was obsessed with finding a cure; he tried every tonic under the sun. He took laudanum, drank mercury, and tried anything he could, but nothing worked. At one point, he even summoned a priest to conduct an exorcism.” His grandmother let out a small, sad laugh and shook her head.
“By the end, he was convinced that the only way to end the curse would be to find the witch who placed it on the family in the first place, or rather her descendants.”
“Did he manage to find them? To discover the reason we were cursed in the first place.” Thomas seized on the idea.
His grandmother placed a hand on her chest, eyes widening. “I have no idea.”
I have to be sure. I cannot ask her until I know for certain. He swallowed. His father’s diaries would be in his study, and if they were not in the study here, they would be at the London house.
One way or another, Thomas was going to get an answer. I cannot offer her insecurity. I will not do that to her.
He clenched and unclenched his fingers. He would not do what his father had done to his mother. He would look into the curse, just to be sure. Then he could re-evaluate his plans. It was the most sensible thing to do.