Chapter 12
“Your Grace, a visitor for Lady Rosalind has arrived.”
Alexander did not need his butler to announce Theodora’s arrival because he had already spotted her the moment she got out of her carriage.
“Good morning, Your Grace.” Theodora stepped into his study with a tray balanced in her hands.
Her curls caught the sunlight and looked more beautiful than any sunrise. The scent of lemon cakes drifted from her and mingled with her own sweetness. For a moment he forgot that they were not alone.
He straightened, unable to stop the smile tugging at his mouth. “Miss Dowell,” he said. “If that is what I think it is, you may enter my estate whenever you please.”
She laughed and the sound was light, warm, and entirely disarming but the laughter did not reach her eyes.
“My friend, Maria, made them. She is an expert at lemon cakes.”
“I am aware,” he said, inhaling deeply. “I can smell her expertise from here.” He turned to his butler. “Thank you, Mr. Carson. Kindly get one of the maids to bring Lady Rosalind.”
“At once, Your Grace.” The elderly man bowed and exited the room.
Leaving Alexander and Theodora alone.
At last.
He studied her as she stood stock-still. Her shoulders were squared and tightly wounded, and her eyes looked tired…as if she had been crying the whole night. Alex felt an unexpected surge of anger.
Who hurt her?
“Theodora, are you all right?”
She gave him a tired smile. “Yes, I am fine…how is Rosalind today?”
The sudden shift of topic made him curious, but he knew better than to question someone who did not want to talk about it.
“She is…as she usually is,” he spoke truthfully. “She had a bit of breakfast then went to her chambers.”
“All right.” Theo lifted the tray slightly. “I thought we might eat outside. A sort of… mini picnic.”
Alexander let out a small laugh.
“What is so funny?” She frowned at him.
He immediately stopped laughing, although his lips continued to twitch. “A picnic?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Fresh air is good for the mind. And lemon cake is good for everything else.”
He chuckled. “Well, I cannot argue with that, but it is totally up to Rosalind.”
As he mentioned her name, Rosalind walked into the study looking just as troubled as Theodora. Alexander held back a heavy sigh.
Perhaps they both need some fresh air.
“Good morning, Lady Rosalind, how are you today?” Theo asked gently.
Rosalind looked up at Theodora and to Alexander’s surprise, her expression softened.
“Miss Dowell,” Rosalind replied quietly. “I am…well. Thank you.”
Theodora smiled at her and Alex felt a sudden tug in his chest.
“I brought cake.” She held up the tray and beamed.
Rosalind’s eyes widened. “Is it lemon cakes?”
Alexander watched his sister’s reaction in awe.
“The very best.” Theo nodded, holding the tray steadily in her hands.
Alexander cleared his throat. “Rosalind, Miss Dowell has planned a picnic for you two. How does that sound?”
Rosalind looked at him with an unreadable expression. “That sounds fine.”
He smiled at her and she smiled weakly back, but it was all that he needed. He walked to his coat rack and threw one on.
“I will walk you both to the gardens and have someone set up a picnic.”
The ladies nodded, then followed him out of his study and down the corridor.
Alexander only stopped briefly to order the maids to bring a blanket and some tea for their picnic.
Theodora and Rosalind remained silent as they walked out of the house and into the garden.
The gravel crunched under their boots until they reached the grand entrance to the garden of Hawthorne House.
“You have a beautiful garden,” Theodora exclaimed breathlessly as she looked around.
“Thank you, it was our mother’s pride and joy.” Alexander spoke before he could think.
Rosalind’s head shot up at the mention of their mother, but she did not look at him or show any expressions that would give away what she was feeling. Theodora must have noticed her reaction, but he was grateful that she did not ask Rosalind anything.
Perhaps I should leave.
But watching Theodora kept him rooted.
“Ah! Here come the maids,” Theo announced brightly, although her eyes still held some sadness.
Alexander wondered what had happened to her and if she could really help Rosalind in the state she was in today.
“Set it up over there,” he addressed the maids and pointed to a vacant spot under the weeping willow that his mother had claimed she planted herself around twenty years ago.
As they strode towards the weeping willow, the maids walked ahead and set up the blanket and tea tray. For a final addition, they added a small china vase, with a little daisy in it, at the center of the blanket. Alexander nodded approvingly at them before they left.
“This is wonderful, thank you, Your Grace and Lady Rosalind. I will just set the tray down here.” Theodora bent to set down the tray and Alexander had to avert his eyes, not trusting himself or his body’s reaction.
He lingered a few steps away as the girls settled down on the blanket. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, and he told himself he was giving them space and being considerate. But he stayed because Theodora was impossible not to look at and admire.
Both in the sunlight and moonlight she mesmerized him.
As she spoke quietly to Rosalind, he regarded the way her fair skin glowed in the midmorning sun and how her curls fell carelessly out of their pins.
She did not seem to care about her appearance and yet she looked effortlessly beautiful.
Theo cut the cake into neat slices, handing one to Rosalind and turning towards him to offer a slice but Alexander shook his head.
“You know,” Theodora said conversationally as she faced Rosalind again, “My friend, Maria, makes these famous lemon cakes. She insists that they are the perfect comfort food.”
Rosalind took a bite, eyes fluttering shut. “They are delicious.” She blushed as if she should not have said that, then softly she asked, “Why does your friend call it comfort food?”
Theo looked triumphant. This was the most Rosalind had said to her yet.
“Yes, well—” She looked at Alexander as if she were unsure about whether she should continue. “Well…Maria baked an entire tray of cakes the day before she discovered that her fiancé was having an affair with another woman.”
Rosalind choked on her cake.
“Good lord, Miss Dowell.” Alexander ran to Rosalind but stopped short when he realized that Rosalind had not choked; she’d laughed.
He had not seen her laugh in a long time. He looked at Theo who shrugged lightly and smiled smugly at him. Alexander shook his head and chuckled.
“Maria recovered. Eventually,” she continued.
Rosalind stared at her wide-eyed. “I…did not mean to laugh. That is… awful.”
“It was awful, but we do laugh about it now, so please do not feel bad.” Theo patted Rosalind’s knee lightly. “Maria survived. And she learned that lemon cake is not a cure for heartbreak, but it does soften the blow.”
Alexander watched Rosalind carefully. She was listening.
Really listening.
Her shoulders were less tense. Her eyes were less clouded and she looked…
present. He was sure that Theo noticed it too.
He could see it in the way she observed Rosalind.
This time she did it more quietly, attentively, and with a kind of gentle curiosity that was nothing like the clinical interrogation she had conducted before. He felt a pang of guilt.
Perhaps she means well.
Theo set her own slice aside and rose gracefully.
“Lady Rosalind,” she said softly, “would you like to go for a walk? Just a short one. The weather is lovely today.”
Rosalind hesitated as Theo extended her arm. She eyed Theo’s hand warily before slowly extending her own to take it. Alexander took this as a good sign.
Theo glanced at him. “I think it would be good for us to stretch our legs.”
“Of course.” Alexander began to walk towards them when Theo titled her head.
“Alone, if you do not mind.”
Alexander stopped midstride. He felt unsure about this request. “Alone?”
“Yes,” she said gently. “We will not go far. We would like to speak more freely without you hovering.”
He opened his mouth to protest. His sister blushed and pursed her lips and Theo smiled sweetly at him.
Too sweetly.
Alexander lifted a brow at her.
Despite his doubt, she was right. Rosalind needed space. And Theodora… had earned a bit of his trust.
He exhaled slowly. “Very well.”
Theo smiled gratefully, warm enough to undo him entirely.
“We will be back soon,” she promised.
He looked at Rosalind who gave him a small, reassuring nod.
Alexander stepped aside, watching as the two ladies walked down the garden path, their skirts brushing the grass.
Rosalind’s soft voice could be heard answering the question Theo had asked her.
He reminded himself to thank Spencer for recommending that all this time Rosalind just needed a friend.
* * *
Theodora walked beside Rosalind at a slow, comfortable pace, letting the girl choose the rhythm. There was no urgency or pressure. Only the quiet rustle of leaves and the faint hum of bees drifting between each blossom. Rosalind paused beside a cluster of pale-yellow flowers.
“These are primroses,” she said softly. “They bloom early.”
Theodora admired the way Rosalind’s fingers hovered just above the petals, as though touching them might disturb something sacred.
“You know all their names,” she said. “That is a lovely skill. Did your mother teach you?”
Rosalind shrugged, though her eyes softened. “Yes, Mama taught me. She said every flower had a personality. Primroses were shy. Peonies were dramatic. Lavender was loyal.”
Theodora smiled. “My mother taught me how to read.”
Rosalind looked at her then, and for a moment, they simply held each other’s gaze. They were simply two daughters carrying the quiet weight of memory.
“It seems mothers teach us the most important things,” Theo said quietly.
“Yes, they do,” Rosalind agreed.
They continued walking as the breeze tugged playfully at their hair. Rosalind pointed out and named each flower they passed. Foxgloves, hydrangeas, sweet peas, and Theodora found herself genuinely charmed by the girl’s knowledge.
“Do you read?” Theodora asked after a moment.
“I used to,” Rosalind said. “But I stopped.”
“Why?”
Rosalind hesitated. “I just… lost interest.”
Theodora understood. She too was going through a reading slump. “That happens. It is quite common, actually. Our interests shift and they return when they are ready.”
Rosalind seemed relieved by that answer.
They walked a little farther before Rosalind asked, “Do you… enjoy science and experiments?”
Theodora nearly tripped over a pebble.
Science. Experiments.
She cleared her throat. “Yes. I enjoy them very much.”
Usually the topic grounded her, yet the moment Rosalind said the words, her mind betrayed her and all her thoughts led to Alexander.
When he stood, watching them, watching her, she felt unsettled.
As if her body may burst out of the confines her mind placed it in, and try to merge with his strong, lean, and tall frame.
She tried to focus. She truly did. But even here, in the quiet of the garden, he intruded on her thoughts and affected her deeply.
“What sort of experiments do you do?” Rosalind asked, snapping her back to reality.
Theodora immediately thought about Alexander’s lips on hers.
She shook her head. “Oh… trivial matters, really. Observations. Hypotheses. I’m currently studying—” She paused, scrambling for something that did not involve romance, the delusion of love, or the way her pulse behaved around a certain Duke. “—the effects of different teas on concentration.”
Rosalind’s eyes brightened with genuine interest. “Truly?”
“Yes,” Theodora said, relieved.
It was not entirely untrue; she had conducted research on it when she first started studying science.
“I am curious about that,” Rosalind said with a hint of excitement.
“Oh, well…some blends sharpen the mind. Others calm it. And I’m trying to determine which is best for reading.”
“That sounds fascinating,” Rosalind said.
Theodora smiled. “It is.”
They walked past a row of lavender bushes and the scent drifted around them like a soft embrace. Theodora glanced at Rosalind, noting the way her shoulders had relaxed, and a faint color returned to her cheeks. Yet there was that lingering sadness in her eyes that remained.
Still… Alexander would be relieved to see her a little better.
She wondered, suddenly, about their parents.
Alexander had never spoken much of them, but from the few times he did she noticed the tension in him and Rosalind.
Regardless, Theodora understood the importance of secrecy.
Just as she would never tell a soul about her father’s affair, she did not expect Alexander or Rosalind to speak of their own wounds.
Some griefs were private.
“Hydrangeas.” Rosalind suddenly slowed as they reached the far end of the garden, where the path curved around a cluster of hydrangeas.
Theodora stopped beside her. “I must tell you something, Lady Rosalind.”
Rosalind looked at her, confused. “What is it?”
Theodora took a deep breath. “I never thought I would need this walk. Or this conversation. But I did. More than I realized.”
The young girl offered her a small smile.
“You… needed it?”
“Yes,” Theodora said. “Very much.”
“Thank you. For being here.”
Theodora felt warmth unfurl in her chest.
“Thank you, too,” she responded softly.
It was a small victory, but a meaningful one.
They turned back towards the house, walking slowly. As they neared the weeping willow where they had begun, Theodora glanced at the girl again.
Perhaps a walk and a bit of sunshine could not cure melancholy entirely, but it could help.
If no one could help Theo, if her own numbness, her own fears, and her own unspoken worries remained locked inside, then at least she could help Rosalind find her way through her own shadows without the use of science, diagnosing, or experimenting.
Theodora and Rosalind exchanged a look, each understanding the other without words. “Shall we head back, before your brother sends a search team?”