Chapter 20 #2
Adelaide started at the mention of his name, when a measured knock sounded against the open door.
She looked up to see Theodore leaned against the doorframe with his hands tucked behind his back with studied innocence.
“Elise, my dear—can I ask you to go take a break while I speak with Theodore for a moment?”
“How long can I go for?”
“How about I’ll come find you?”
Elise smiled. “Like hide and seek?”
“No. Not like hide and seek,” Adelaide said and laughed. “I will come find you soon. Try not to get into any trouble.”
Elise slid from her chair with considerably more enthusiasm than dignity, nearly forgetting her copybook before darting back to snatch it from the table.
She offered Theodore a quick curtsy that was far too hurried to satisfy any governess before disappearing into the corridor, her footsteps fading almost immediately into the familiar rhythm of Wolverton’s halls.
Theodore watched her go with an amused shake of his head. “She grows more like Violet every day.”
“Heaven help us all if that proves true.”
“I rather think it already has.”
Adelaide smiled despite herself and folded her hands atop the desk, waiting until the sound of Elise’s footsteps had vanished completely before turning her full attention toward him. “You’ve been trying to corner me since the assembly.”
“I object to the word corner.”
“You’ve appeared in every room I’ve entered.”
“A remarkable coincidence.”
“You waited outside the library yesterday.”
“I was admiring the architecture.”
“You’ve never admired architecture in your life,” Adelaide said, leveling a cold but teasing stare at him.
“I’ve developed unexpectedly refined tastes.”
Adelaide laughed. “I wondered how long you intended to continue pretending.”
He stepped inside, smiling sheepishly, and she gestured toward the chair opposite hers. “You may as well sit. Whatever dreadful secret you’ve been carrying has clearly become too heavy.”
Theodore settled into the chair with an exaggerated sigh. “It wasn’t dreadful.”
“No?”
“I simply wanted to ask…” He paused, as if rolling his next words around his mind before continuing. “… whether you’re… happy.”
The question softened her immediately, and she leaned back, considering it with unusual care. “I didn’t think I would be. W hen Papa first told me he had arranged the marriage…” She smiled faintly. “I was furious.”
“I remember.”
“I was prepared to resent Eric for years.”
“And now?”
She looked toward the window where afternoon sunlight spilled across the floorboards. “Now I find myself wondering what would have become of me had Papa chosen anyone else.”
Theodore watched her quietly.
“It still feels strange saying that aloud.”
“Because?”
“Because it was never supposed to matter,” she laughed softly at herself. “It was to be a practical arrangement.”
“And practical arrangements aren’t meant to make one’s heart race every time one’s husband enters a room?”
She pointed a warning finger at him. “You are becoming insufferable.”
“I learned from the best.”
Adelaide shook her head, smiling despite herself. “I care for him…” The words came more easily than they had with Violet. “Far more than I intended.”
“And he?”
Adelaide’s smile grew quieter. “I think…” She hesitated. “I think he is trying very hard not to.”
Theodore nodded slowly.
“That sounds remarkably like a man already losing the battle.”
“I hope you’re right.”
After a while Theodore said, “And your father looks stronger.”
“He does!” she said and felt her spirits lift. “Dr. Pembroke scarcely believes it himself.”
“I don’t think anyone does.”
She laughed. “Which means that this entire marriage may have been unnecessary.”
Theodore blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“If Papa continues improving, perhaps he never truly needed to arrange any of this.”
The absurdity of it struck her all over again.
“I spent weeks convincing myself my life had been entirely redirected by illness, and now Papa insists on walking farther every morning than anyone permits.” She smiled to herself. “I should be annoyed.”
“But you aren’t?”
She looked around the room. “No, I find that I’m rather grateful—though don’t tell him.”
Theodore straightened, aghast. “I would never!”
She threw a rolled piece of parchment at him, and he caught it effortlessly. “I missed this, kid.”
“So did I.”
For another minute they simply sat.
Adelaide inhaled sharply then, after a passing thought lingered. “I’ve had the most ridiculous thought.”
“I do enjoy those.”
She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I’ve been secretly comparing Eric’s stories about his sister to someone we both know.”
Theodore frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He keeps describing these little habits.” She counted them absently on her fingers. “The way she laughed. The way she challenged people. The way she wrinkled her nose whenever she doubted something.”
Theodore’s smile gradually disappeared. “And?”
“And this… person… does every one of them.”
“Who is this person?”
“I cannot say,” Adelaide continued quickly. “It’s absurd to even say aloud.”
“Is it Violet?”
Adelaide’s face fell. “How did you guess?”
Theodore laughed knowingly. “Adelaide… she is the only person you know who is here for you to compare that memory to.”
She joined him in laughter after the realization hit her.
When the silence finally settled between them, Theodore spoke first. “The world is full of similar people.”
“That’s what Violet told —”
He held up a hand, interrupting her. “And yet…”
She chuckled again and shook her head dismissively. “It’s nonsense.”
“Probably.”
“I only mention it because the thought amused me.”
“Did it?”
“Entirely.”
Theodore leaned back. His expression had grown thoughtful. Far more thoughtful than the conversation warranted.
“What is it?” She narrowed her eyes. “I know that face. I’ve known you since we were children.”
“And you’ve spent that entire time accusing me unfairly of thinking when I am not.”
“You are almost certainly thinking. Just tell me.”
He smiled and stood, clearly ending the line of questioning. “Shall we go rescue Elise before she convinces the kitchen staff she’s entitled to a second luncheon?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether they’ve already surrendered.”
Together they left the classroom.
The long portrait gallery lay quiet in the afternoon light, its polished floor reflecting tall windows overlooking the western lawns. As they rounded the corner, Adelaide stopped.
One of the protective sheets covering the older family portraits had slipped loose, pooling untidily across the floor.
“Someone has been neglecting their duties,” she murmured.
Theodore slowed. His attention settled on the uncovered portrait. It depicted a dark-haired girl of perhaps fifteen, painted beside the cliffs overlooking the sea. Her smile was bright. He studied it longer than Adelaide expected.
“So this is Eric’s sister?”
Adelaide nodded. “I admit I haven’t seen an image of her until just now…”
She stepped closer. There was something unsettlingly familiar about the girl. Not merely the dark hair. Something in the shape of her face, perhaps, or the slight tilt of her head. Adelaide stared longer than she meant to. “How very strange.”
“What is?”
She almost answered before catching herself. Could it be…Vi—?
Adelaide laughed at herself as Theodore’s tilted head and confused and expectant expression came into view.
“Nothing.”
“ That was plainly not nothing .”
“ No, truly—it was just that the little girl reminded me of someone.”
Theodore followed her gaze. His expression changed slowly. “Violet?”
Adelaide’s jaw dropped. “Do not be absurd.”
“You thought it first.”
“That does not make it less absurd.” She gathered the fallen sheet and draped it back over the portrait. “Theodore, if every dark-haired woman with curls belonged to the Wolverton family, half of England would be related.”
His smile returned. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I generally am.”
She linked her arm through his. “Come along.”
“To the kitchens?”
“Unless you know of another place to find Elise?”
“It would be the best place to start,” Theodore relented and together they continued down the corridor toward the kitchens.
Adelaide made it nearly to the staircase before looking back, and thankfully Theodore did not notice… which was why she returned to the gallery alone later that afternoon.
The sheet came away more quietly the second time. Adelaide stood before the portrait with her arms folded, determined to prove to herself that an unfortunate arrangement of dark curls had sent her imagination wandering.
Instead, she noticed the cliffs that rose just behind the painted girl and her family in unmistakable gray shelves above the river.
The last lady who walked those cliffs never came back.
Adelaide’s amusement disappeared, and she stepped closer to the little brass plate beneath the frame.
The Sixteenth Duke and Duchess of Wolverton &
their children, Eric and Olivia Sullyard
Her eyes returned slowly to the girl’s face. “Nonsense,” she whispered, but this time, when Adelaide replaced the sheet, she did not believe herself quite as readily.