“What about your future?” he growled. “Your life?”
“I couldn’t have one.” She opened her eyes, but did not look at him. “Not when I stood in everyone else’s way. The eldest must marry first. My parents told everyone I had contracted a strange disease and was being looked after in some hospital.”
“But there was no strange disease.” His nostrils flared. “And no hospital.”
“Maybe there was. Maybe I’m the strange disease. I’ve been peculiar since birth, and my parents could not wait to wash their hands of me.” Virginia’s heart clenched. Telling the story had not made it easier.
“Why up here?” Theodore asked as the wind ruffled his hair. “This distance requires weeks of travel every time they visit you.”
“It would,” she agreed. “If they had visited. My parents needed me as far away as possible. It would have been risky to send me someplace close by, like Ticehurst or Bedlam. Too many people visit for the great sport of laughing, mocking, and poking sticks at inmates. They didn’t want their friends to recognize me.”
His hand brushed her cheek. “You do realize that this is not an acceptable way to treat one’s child?”
“Have you ever been in a madhouse?” she asked bleakly. “They’re crowded. Every one of the inmates is someone’s child.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her close.
“It’s fine,” she said hoarsely, determined not to cry. It had never helped before. “All sorts of animals abandon their young. Rabbits, house sparrows, cuckoos…”
“To the devil with that,” Theodore said. “And to the devil with your family. You’re not a house sparrow. No one can take care of themselves in a madhouse.”
“I learned that the hard way,” she whispered. “I tried to run away every single day. It took three years to finally happen.”
He shivered. “I don’t blame you for coming here instead of going to London.”
“I didn’t mean to do that, either,” she admitted.
The night she’d escaped, Virginia had been terrified. Leaving the asylum was the first decision she’d made for herself. She was unprepared for the weather, for the loneliness, for the unexpected surprise of kind strangers.
A caravan of tourists was heading further north to take their holiday in a village called Christmas. They had assumed her carriage had broken down and offered her passage. Virginia had swallowed her terror and accepted.
She kept her mouth shut the entire journey. She could not risk being odd or funny or peculiar. Any time she was too wrong, people tossed her aside like rubbish. But Christmas hadn’t. It had welcomed her as if it had been waiting for her right here Virginia’s entire life.
Mr. Marlowe not only gave her the run of the castle and a room of her own, but a generous allowance. It wasn’t just that Virginia didn’t want for anything. For the first time, she awoke each morning without fear.
“The best part about Christmas is that here, I can live as I am. There are no expectations except my own. It’s the most freedom I’ve ever had.” Her voice shook. “I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”
“Only a blackguard would ask you to.” His lips twisted. “I’m surprised your parents allowed you to stay.”
She lifted a shoulder. “They don’t know I’m out of the madhouse.”
He stared at her. “How long have you lived here?”
Even the wind was quiet in anticipation of her response.
“Six years,” Virginia admitted in a small voice. She could practically see him do the sums.
“Your family dropped you off at a lunacy asylum nine years ago and haven’t noticed you are not still there?”
“No one’s come looking for me.” Her cheeks burned at the admission that no one missed her. “I’ve stopped worrying I’ll be sent back.”
“Maybe they did have a change of heart,” Theodore suggested after a moment, his tone hopeful. “Maybe they came to visit, couldn’t find you, and have been desperately searching for you ever since.”
“I asked Mr. Marlowe to let me know if any notices were ever posted in the papers. If my parents were looking for me. None ever came. Eventually, I stopped asking about the past and started over instead. At first, I had nothing. Now I do.” She gave a wobbly smile. “I have Duke, I have my friends, I have my afternoon constitutionals…”
His gaze was unreadable. “I’m not certain ‘afternoon constitutional’ is a possession.”
“They are the most precious possessions I own.” She swallowed. “I walk outside every day regardless of the weather because Ican. Because it proves I’m free.”
