Chapter 7
The following weeks saw Nessa slowly come to terms with her role as housekeeper, her place in Thornwyck Hall, and her new life in general.
It was not the life that she had imagined for herself, but she was determined to make the most of it anyway.
What else could she do? She could not run.
She did not much like the idea of returning to her home in Ireland.
And as Lady Honora had wanted this for her, she felt that she owed it to her old employer and friend to make the best of it.
Besides, as the weeks rolled on, and as Nessa found routine and comfort, she began to realize that this new life was more than a job, and it was more than an obligation. It was the exact thing that she had always been missing: it was a place … somewhere that she might finally belong.
So, she set herself in this new role, proving that she was more than up to the task.
She worked from sunrise to sunset, small breaks taken when the time allowed it. Always learning as she went, eager to develop her skills and prove that she was not an obstruction.
The work was hard to begin with. It was clear that she was not wanted. But the harder that she worked, the more she saw the other staff members come to accept her as one of them.
Again, it was that feeling of belonging somewhere, and she hung onto it dearly.
As to her desire to learn about her sister? One week after she sat with Lord Thornwyck at Lady Honora’s grave, she wrote a letter to her mother, asking if she knew anything. But it would be weeks until she heard back, and she figured that the only thing to do was work to pass the time.
Answers would come, she was sure. All she needed was to be patient.
While the work was hard, long, and gave her little time to herself, every afternoon, Nessa was afforded an hour to do as she wished.
Sometimes, she would spend it reading. Often, she would play with Muirne.
Always, she was sure to visit Morag in the kitchen.
And when the weather allowed it, she would go for a short walk.
Today was one of those days.
The skies had cleared for what felt like the first time in weeks; that storm which had threatened to erupt never came, as if it grew bored of its warning and chose to move on to someplace where those beneath its darkness would care to listen.
The sun had started its gentle descent down the sky, painting the horizon in dark purples, burning oranges, and amber hues, and Nessa burst from the castle, rushed through the garden, and hurried to the lake on the edge of the property.
By far, the lake was her favorite part of Thornwyck Hall.
While the sweeping plains that surrounded the estate were beautiful in their own way, she found herself drawn to the vastness of the lake for reasons that she could not quite explain.
It stretched far, beyond the horizon, nothing but shimmering waters that conjured dreams of what might lie beyond its watery expanse …
Of course, Muirne was with her, and the dog yapped playfully as it ran ahead chasing imaginary butterflies, or so Nessa liked to imagine.
She made her way toward the lake, staring at the beauty of the skyline, finding a smile on her face because despite everything, she was happy.
How has this happened? When did it happen?
She supposed that it was only once she stopped questioning her place that she was finally given the chance to find it. Who would have thought?
It was because she watched the skyline so closely that she failed to notice Lord Thornwyck standing by the water’s edge until she was less than twenty feet away from him.
She came to a sudden stop. He faced the water, so he had not seen her. Hands folded tight behind his back, she got the feeling that she was interrupting something.
About to turn and walk back, she stopped …
Nessa had not seen much of Lord Thornwyck since that night by Lady Honora’s grave.
It had been a random intrusion, but she realized now that it was also the moment when she had started to accept her new life here.
Lord Thornwyck was not the sullen grump that she assumed, and as strange as it was to think, she sensed in him something she could relate to deeply and personally.
He was lonely. He missed his grandmother. He missed his wife. And where he had helped her that night by the grave, she felt a sudden desire to help him.
“It is quite the view,” she said as she sidled up next to him.
Lord Thornwyck stiffened at the sudden intrusion. Nessa braced, suddenly uncertain if she had made a terrible mistake. But then she noticed his shoulders relax, and she spared a quick glance, delighting in the soft smile that he wore as he continued to look across the lake.
“It is that,” he agreed. “One I do not appreciate nearly enough, to be honest.”
“What has changed?”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem to be appreciating it now,” she ventured. “So …” A shrug. “I assume that something has changed.”
His smile turned wry, and he looked at her as if only just noticing she was there. “Ought you not to be hard at work? Shelves to dust. Linens to change …”
“Even housekeepers are given time off,” she responded with a coy smile of her own, because she noticed the humor in his comment. “An hour each afternoon, in fact. And while you might not appreciate the view nearly enough, I cannot get enough of it.”
He chuckled and went back to looking at the setting sun. “I am teasing, of course. In fact, I have heard tell that you are doing a fine job of late. Mr. Carrow says that you have come along in leaps and bounds.”
Nessa felt more pride at that compliment than she thought she would. “He is a fine teacher, is why.”
Lord Thornwyck snorted. “He is not here, Miss Kavanagh. There is no need to praise him.”
“Well then …” She laughed. “If I were being honest, I might say that I am just a fast learner. But do not tell Mr. Carrow that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
They watched the setting sun together in silence for a few seconds. But it was not awkward in the least. In fact, Nessa was surprised at how comfortable she felt standing by Lord Thornwyck’s side. Almost as if she belonged …
“I can see why she liked you,” he said suddenly.
“Who?” she blurted.
“My grandmother.”
“Oh …” She looked away with embarrassment. “Yes, of course.”
“You are like her, in some ways,” he continued. She felt his eyes on her, and try as she might, Nessa could not bring herself to meet them. “The humor, I mean. The lightness. I have a feeling the two of you spent much time laughing and swapping jokes.”
Nessa beamed. “She was far more the joke maker than I. But I did my best to keep up. And I was also so pleased when I made her laugh.” She laughed at a memory of such a time. “To make her laugh was to feel as if you had really achieved something. It was almost an honor.”
He laughed as if she had said something funny. It was a short laugh, nothing too grand or exaggerated, but it sparked a sudden memory in Nessa.
“You laugh like her,” she said with realization. “I only just noticed.”
The words were meant as a kindness, but Lord Thornwyck looked away as if ashamed. “I cannot imagine why you would have until now. Laughter can be hard to come by …”
Nessa watched Lord Thornwyck. The pleasant mood that had found them both was smothered and died as if it had never been. Again, he stared out at the sunset, his thoughts impossible to guess, even if she knew they were dark and sullen.
He was hurting; of that there was no doubt.
“We ought to change that,” Nessa found herself saying.
“Change what?” He looked sharply at her.
She smiled gently. “The lack of laughter is what. It is a simple thing, but your grandmother would say that laughter makes the world turn, no? And I know she would hate to think that such a simple thing is hard to come by. It should not be.”
His brow furrowed as he continued to look at her. She felt his eyes probing her, seeming to see right through her in a way that was uncomfortable and revealing. Nessa fidgeted awkwardly, thinking of looking away, but she forced herself to hold his stare.
“Yes, you are just like her,” he said slowly. “I see it now. I … I was not sure about you when we first met, Miss Kavanagh. I see now that I was wrong.”
“Oh?”
“My grandmother clearly trusted you, and for good reason. I am glad that you are here.”
Nessa smiled, wanting to show her gratitude. The words were kind, as well as welcome, and they did much to confirm how she had started to feel these last few weeks.
But as she smiled, she felt the locket around her neck, the secrets it contained, and she wondered if such secrets were a betrayal of this trust.
“Thank you,” she said. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”
They stood together for a few more moments, just long enough to watch the sun gently sinking beneath the horizon. Muirne sniffed around their feet but did not try for their attention, as if she recognized the moment and did not want to interrupt.
Little else was said, but that was the point. There was comfort found in that silence, and while Nessa was starting to feel as if she belonged, it was by the lake, standing with the earl, that she felt something else … or rather, she felt a lack of something.
It was the loneliness that had haunted her for so long that she did not feel. Lord Thornwyck was her employer; she did not pretend that they were friends, but she believed he understood her, as she was starting to understand him.
And that, as much as anything, was a reason to smile.
***
Nessa stopped into the kitchens before returning to work. She always did so, a quick chance to see Morag and to fill her belly. But Morag was not there, nor was there any food for her. So, with little choice in the matter, Nessa slunk through the house on her way to her room.
It was as she walked that she passed the drawing room, and as she passed the cracked door, she heard voices.
She stopped short when she heard them, and her breath caught when she heard her own name spoken in a sharp whisper.
“… Miss Kavanagh might be a hard worker, but that does not mean that you ought to encourage her, Alaric.” Lady Verity’s tone was sharp and harsh.
“Encourage her how?” Lord Thornwyck scoffed in derision.
“I saw the two of you just now, by the edge of the lake. It looked as if you were having a wonderful little chat.”
“Verity …” Lord Thornwyck sighed. “That we were there together was nothing more than a coincidence. I was watching the setting sun, and she just happened to be going for a walk.”
“So she says!”
“Ought I not converse with the household staff? Is that what you are saying?”
Nessa heard Lady Verity sigh. “I am saying that you need to be careful. Did you know that just last week, I saw her holding a rosary as she prayed?” She scoffed. “She is Irish, so such things ought to be expected. But she is not one of us.”
Alaric laughed, but it was in scorn. “What then? Would you like me to ask that she convert? Will that make you happy?”
“Do not mock me!”
“But you make it so easy to do, sister …”
Nessa’s heart was racing, and she felt tears brimming in her eyes.
She wanted to stay and listen, but she was desperate to flee because such words stung more than she wanted to admit …
they hurt her – a cold dose of reality that snapped her from this state of tranquility she had happily lived in these last few weeks.
She rushed through the castle, back to her room, slammed the door closed, and then collapsed on her bed.
Nessa did not care that Lady Verity was judging her for religious purposes. What she cared about was that Lady Verity had lied! Nessa did not own a rosary, and she was certainly not praying with one. The mistress of the house was so besotted with rage or jealousy or … or … Nessa did not know!
For some reason, Lady Verity despised her, and now she was concocting lies to try to turn Lord Thornwyck against her.
It was not fair. It was not right. Worse still, it reminded Nessa of the reality that this was not her world, and she certainly did not belong.
She thought that she did … she tried so hard, but such things could never be, and just like that, the loneliness she had hoped never to feel again came crashing down upon her in waves.