But where Honoria was concerned, things were never so easy.
“While we have known you came from ‘up north,’ I don’t think a single one of us suspected you lived in Scotland.”
“I did not live in Scotland,” Seraphina muttered, knowing she could not keep every bit of information from her friends, now that Iain had come back into her life like a bull elephant at full charge. If she did not say something to pacify them, God only knew how much worse things would get. As it was, she felt as if she were on the other side of a dam, and several spots had grown weak and allowed water to pour through. Right now the only thing she could do was to figure out which breaks she could stop up before the whole blasted thing fell apart.
“I did, however, visit on occasion,” she continued in as cool a voice as she was able. “It is where I met Mr. MacInnes, the gentleman”—her throat closed at using such akind word in relation to Iain, but she pushed through—“you all saw me with yesterday. He came to inform me that there are some loose ends I need to tie up, and so I must leave as soon as I’m able. Now,” she finished with a brittle smile for the group, lifting the chipped teapot in the air, “does anyone need their drink refreshed?”
If anything, Honoria’s expression became more stubborn. “Don’t think you can fob us off so easily—” she began heatedly.
Blessedly, however, Adelaide seemed to have regained her senses. Placing a firm hand on Honoria’s arm, she said, “Honoria, that’s quite enough. If Seraphina does not wish to explain, that is her prerogative. It is her life, and hers alone. We must respect her and abide by her wishes.”
Honoria stared mutinously at Adelaide for a long moment, and the rest of them held their collective breaths as they waited for her response. Honoria was not one to back down from a challenge.
In the end, however, she seemed to deflate into her seat. “Very well,” she grumbled before shooting a singeing glare around the room. “But I’ll have you know I am not happy about it. Not one bit.”
“Of course, dear,” Adelaide murmured complacently, patting her arm.
“The question now is,” Bronwyn joined in, pushing her spectacles back, “what extent do you wish for us to assist your sisters? From comments you have made lately, it appears they have a wish for more independence. If that is the case, will they resent our presence here?”
“Oh, that is a good point, Bronwyn,” Adelaide said with a frown. “What did Millicent and Elspeth say when you told them of your trip?”
Seraphina winced. Leave it to her too-astute friends to get right to the heart of the matter. “I, er… haven’t told them yet.”
As one, three jaws dropped open. Honoria, naturally, was the first to speak.
“What do you mean, you have not told your sisters yet?”
Seraphina, suddenly unable to meet her friends’ piercing gazes, took her spectacles off and busied herself with cleaning the lenses on her skirt. She shrugged. “I will tell them. Of course I will tell them. It’s not like Ican’ttell them. I mean, I’ll be gone for some time, and so certainly cannot hide the fact.”
“But…?” Adelaide prompted when Seraphina’s voice dropped off into a loaded silence.
Seraphina sighed. “But I don’t know what to tell them.”
Again a loaded silence. This time, however, it was not Honoria who broke it. It was Bronwyn.
“But they are your sisters. You are closer to them than anyone and share a history with them. Surely they should be the first to know of your plans and the reason behind them.”
Again Seraphina winced. “You would think that, wouldn’t you,” she mumbled more to herself, feeling lower than she had in a long while. She had known since the day she had learned of her betrayal at Iain’s hand that she would never again be able to open herself up to another. Not even her dear sisters could know the entire extent of her past.
But she had never felt so completely alone as she did in that very moment, knowing that, no matter how she loved someone and they loved her, there would always be a gaping chasm between them that could never be crossed.
Hopelessness sucked at her, that very same despair thathad nearly destroyed her thirteen long years ago. With incredible effort she battled it back.
“You’re all making a mountain out of a molehill,” she proclaimed, straightening her back and nodding with much more confidence than she felt. “I simply have not had the time, is all. I’ll tell my sisters after your departure.”
Bronwyn, however, being of an incredibly agile scientific mind, could sniff out erroneous information much too easily. “You cannot tell your sisters the reason for your departure either, can you?”
Seraphina scowled. “It does not matter.”
“Actually,” Adelaide said in a gentle tone, “I do believe it matters, very much.”
She was right, of course. They all were. But Seraphina was not about to admit that.
“I do believe that’s enough on that particular subject,” she declared forcefully and with a determined smile. “My largest concern was that you should all be aware of my absence, and to secure your assistance with Millicent and Elspeth, and I have done that. Let us turn our attention now to happier matters. Namely, Bronwyn’s upcoming publication. I vow, I am so proud of you. I cannot wait to supply it at the Quayside for our residents, so they might see for themselves that your research has proven fruitful and useful.”
Which, of course, thoroughly distracted Bronwyn. No, not just Bronwyn, but all of them. Bronwyn had worked so hard for so many years in studying and illustrating the local beetle population after she had found what she had believed to be a new species. Her upcoming publication was proof that her work was worthy and important. Not that any of the Oddments needed to be given proof. They all believedBronwyn was utterly and completely brilliant, no proof needed.
At the end of their scheduled hour—Seraphina had been closely studying the clock above the mantel the whole while, something she had never done for their weekly meetings before—Seraphina stood and motioned to Phineas, who took off from his perch to land on her shoulder. “Well then,” she said with a smile that took more than a bit of effort to produce, “that was a lovely meeting. But I really must be getting back to work, as I suspect you all must as well, especially with the end of summer approaching. I will contact you before I depart to provide any pertinent instructions regarding the Quayside and my sisters.” With that she began herding her friends from the small office.
