Chapter 17
Nessa walked the empty corridors of Thornwyck Hall, and never had she felt such a weight in the air as she did just then.
Since arriving at Thornwyck Hall, the castle had always felt like a cold and lonely place where she did not truly belong, and rarely had she felt like more than a stranger in its vast halls.
Today, as she went about her duties, such feelings increased tenfold.
It was not so much that she felt out of place or as if she did not belong either. It was more the feeling of not being seen or noticed at all. She was a ghost drifting, looked through and not seen, dismissed quickly and without recognition.
For once, at least, it was not personal.
She heard the news yesterday from Mr. Carrow, such a dreadful development that Nessa struggled to comprehend its full meaning.
She knew already of Lady Thornwyck’s passing, but she had not known that the manner of her death was assumed, rather than known.
The late Lady Thornwyck had drowned, she was told, a tragedy to be sure, but certainly not a mystery.
To learn now that her body was discovered in a boat, that she had not drowned but been left stranded and alone, and that questions were being asked about the nature of how this had been allowed to happen …
I cannot imagine what Lord Thornwyck must be going through.
It was not only Lord Thornwyck who suffered anew with this discovery.
As Nessa went about her duties, more than once she walked into a room to find a member of staff in tears.
Mr. Carrow was not his usual snappy self, more withdrawn, seemingly not present or caring much to direct Nessa about with the usual sharp command.
Even Muirne appeared to sulk, as if she understood what had happened, and was just as affected by it.
And then there was Lady Verity …
“Lady Verity?” Nessa stood in the feather room doorway, knocking once but not daring to enter. “You sent for me?”
Lady Verity sat by the window and looked across the gray landscape as if searching for something that she could not quite remember but knew to be there. She started on hearing her name spoken and slowly turned.
“Oh …” Her eyes were red, her expression blank. “Miss Kavanagh, you needed something?”
“It was you who sent for me, Lady Verity,” Nessa answered. “I was told you wished to speak of the memorial. Changes that needed to be made?”
“Did I?” She appeared confused. “I … possibly, I did. Yes, that sounds like me.”
Nessa waited for her to elaborate, but when she realized that Lady Verity was not going to do so … “Is now a bad time, Lady Verity? I can come back later, if you wish it so?”
“Later …” Lady Verity spoke as if she did not understand the word. “Yes, later is better. I will send for you.”
If Nessa was on better speaking terms with Lady Verity, she might have asked if the lady needed someone to talk with. Sometimes, a friend to sit, listen, and say nothing could make the world of difference. But that was not their relationship, and Nessa knew better than to ask such a thing.
She had no love for Lady Verity whatsoever, but she could feel the woman’s pain as if it were her own, and she could not begin to imagine how this news was affecting her.
“As you like, My Lady.” Nessa bowed once and hurried from the room.
While Nessa was not on such good terms with Lady Verity, she was not the only person in this place who suffered. And if Lady Verity had succumbed to this news with such misery, it broke Nessa’s heart to imagine how Lord Thornwyck must have been feeling.
With that in mind, wanting to help any way that she could, Nessa decided, without giving it any consideration, to visit Lord Thornwyck. She knew in her heart that he needed someone to be there for him, and she wanted that someone to be her.
She arrived at his office moments later. The door was closed, but she gently pried it open as she peered inside …
“Lord Thornwyck,” she spoke gently. “Are you decent?”
He sat alone at his desk.
A single candle burned in the room, but its flame was weak, casting the office in dark shadow that grew heavy and foreboding as it washed over Lord Thornwyck’s hulking frame. He slumped forward, staring blankly at his desk, and he hardly seemed to notice Nessa as she entered.
She felt his pain. His sadness was suffocating. In that, Nessa knew she had made the right decision. Whatever her relationship with Lord Thornwyck was or might become, she wanted to pull him from his suffering … to be there for him as only she could do.
“Lord Thornwyck.” She stopped halfway across the room. “I … I wished to see how you are feeling. A silly thing, I know, as I cannot even begin to imagine how you must feel.”
He looked up slowly with red-stained eyes. “Miss Kavanagh, I did not hear you come in.”
“I will know to knock louder next time,” she said with a soft smile.
He said nothing. But he continued to look at her as if she was the rising sun after a long winter’s night. Relief, perhaps? Hope? A reminder that he was not alone? That was how she chose to see it.
“I know it is likely the last thing you want,” she began softly. “But if you would like to talk …” Her smile remained. “Sometimes, having someone to speak with, even if nothing particularly important is said, is the best way to heal. Just so we know that we are not alone in our sadness.”
“I would not know what to say.” His voice cracked. “I hardly know what to even think.”
“I can go if you like …”
“No. Do not …” He forced a painful smile. “Please, sit for a moment. You are right. Sometimes, it is not what is said that matters, but who we say it to.”
Nessa took a seat across from him and folded her hands on the table. Lord Thornwyck eyed her hands, his brow furrowed in thought, and he reached over and took them with both of his hands.
She withheld the urge to gasp, even as a jolt rippled up her arm. His hands were soft and warm, and she felt their comfort.
“I do not know why I feel so …” He spoke into his chest, almost as if to himself. “Two years, she has been gone, and I thought I had come to terms with it. I mourned. I suffered. I moved on …”
Nessa looked at Lord Thornwyck’s hands around her own, and her heart raced as he squeezed them. She had no idea what to say, or if she should say anything.
Sometimes, listening is all that is needed …
“Was I wrong to have moved on so quickly?” he continued, still speaking as if to himself. “Is this a punishment for not loving my wife as I should have done? I …” His voice trembled. “I did love her. Our marriage was as good as could have been hoped. But was it enough?”
Still, she said nothing, but she wondered if he might hear the thundering crashes of her heart.
“And then there are the secrets that swirl around me like a fog in the dead of night. How did this happen? Who is to blame? And ought I move on again, or need I do more …” His chin began to tremble.
“I am at a loss. Not just how I should feel, but what I should do about it. I …” His head snapped up, and he looked pleadingly at Nessa. “You must think I have gone mad.”
“Not at all,” she said. “You are right to feel confused, as well as heartbroken. Such feelings as these are expected.”
“It is more than that,” he said with a grimace, still squeezing her hands. “There is something else that I …” He set his jaw. “No, that is not for you to worry about, Miss Kavanagh.”
“I do not mind,” she pressed. “Anything you wish to say, I am here.”
“No …” He released her hands as if only just then realizing that he had been holding them. “I will not burden you with this. But I do thank you for coming to see me.” His smile was not warm, but Nessa knew it was earnest. “You have no idea how much that means.”
“Always, Lord Thornwyck. As I said, sometimes all we need is a friend to speak with.”
“Is that what we are? Friends?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the implication. “I … I like to think so.”
He did not smile at her response, nor did he frown. He studied her coolly, looking into her eyes as if searching for an answer to a question that even he did not know.
Nessa looked away, suddenly worried. While she liked to claim that she did not know how she truly felt about Lord Thornwyck, she feared that the truth was an obvious thing, and that if he looked at her for too long, he would see it …
“I should go.” She pushed back her chair. “Work to be done.” She stood and looked down at Lord Thornwyck, sure to make him see that she was not running, and that she was still there for him. “And if you need anything …”
“Wait.” He looked right at her, thoughts raging behind his eyes that Nessa could not read and did not dare guess at. “I …” He bit his lip.
“Yes?”
He continued to watch her, and Nessa’s heart started to race. It did not feel as if there was anything he wanted to say, more that he simply did not want her to go. He was sad. He was broken. But while she was with him, she felt the pieces of his shattered world slowly fit back together.
At least that is how I see it.
So, she looked at him hopefully, because all she wanted was for him to ask that she stay. Not to say anything, but to provide comfort.
“Never mind,” he said finally, with a soft and assuring smile. “But if I need anything else, I know who I shall send for. Although, surely humoring my pitiful state goes beyond the tasks of a housekeeper?”
“In this instance, I will allow it,” she said with a soft chuckle of her own. “As I welcome it.”
A final look was shared between them; just enough so that he would know that she was with him and would always be there for him.
She was quick to leave the dark office, and she felt the change in atmosphere the moment she closed the door behind her. As sorrowful as the rest of the castle had felt all day, it was nothing compared to the weight of sadness that sat heavy in that office and around Lord Thornwyck.
He needs help … someone to speak with … and I fear that I can only offer so much.
With that in mind, Nessa hurried to find Morag.