‘Do not speak to your mother thus!’ her father exclaimed indignantly, joining the fray, and rising to reprimand her. She might’ve rolled her eyes, had she not been so…disappointed, and sad, and returned instantly to the young girl who’d only wanted their approval, their attention, their support, and their love. It cut through her more than the anger and distance she’d felt from them all these years, surprising her by its hurt.I thought I had moved forward, but it appears hope I thought I had long abandoned lived on still.‘She is entirely correct, this place is a disgrace! A house in disrepair, no furniture, nothing but chipped crockery and a pigpen for a garden! Have you any idea how hard it has been for us, to have your sister find an acceptable match, to show our faces in Society, when all they will speak of is our daughter, the pig farmer? And that writing weasel at theLondoner’s Chronicleseems incapable of letting all the infamy die out as a gentleman might? That isn’t even to speak of your supposed household! Your housekeeper is unwed with a child, I’m quite certain that cook of yours spent some time inprison, and that footman shouldn’t even be called that—’
‘Enough!’ Thorn declared, rising to his feet, not shouting, but not quiet either. ‘You will not speak one more word against any of my household, and that includes your daughter.’ Hypatia looked over at him, a bright, sparking and irrefutably powerful Ares, her heart full of gratitude, and something else, for him doing what he was. His eyes were on her father, a brow raised in challenge, but he held out his hand to her, and she took it, feeling better at once. ‘Why precisely is it you are here?’ Thorn asked, simply, but leaving no room for polite divagations and excuses. ‘All of you, let’s out with it, for I’m tired of this supposed civilised nonsense. Everyone, sit down, and have out with precisely why itis you have come to Gadmin Hall so we can be done with it, and move on with our lives.’
Anyone standing was too afraid to disobey, or too shocked by the uncouth bluntness perhaps, and anyone sitting was too caught to flee, so they all returned to the table, and sat, and sipped tea, and played with forks and pieces of cake, and Thorn pulled his chair closer to hers, and set their linked hands on his thigh, waiting.
‘Who’s first?’ he asked.
‘I came to ask if there might be need of a smith in these parts,’ Malek said quietly after a very long, tortuous moment, when everyone had stared, glared, and looked intently at each other, as if to prompt another to go first. ‘I don’t wish to be ungrateful, after all you’ve done for me, after what you entrusted me with, but I could not find my place without you. The work was good, but in truth, you were my only friend, and perhaps that isn’t reason enough to leave what you’d gifted me behind, but I did, and now I am here, asking for more. Though I can pay my way, I sold the forge, and took what I could with me.’
Hypatia glanced at Thorn, spotting a mix of disappointment, sadness at the loss of what he and his father had built, yet heartfelt understanding. When he turned to her, she nodded in response to his unspoken question, tightening her hold on him.
‘It so happens my wife gifted me a forge,’ Thorn told Malek. ‘And there is need of a smith in these parts, and beyond. We can speak of details later, but you are welcome to stay.’
‘Thank you,’ Malek said, bowing his head. ‘Both of you.’
Thorn and Hypatia both smiled, taking a moment to acknowledge this new chapter, for all of them, before Thorn turned to the rest of them.
‘Next?’
Thorn’s gaze alternated between her family, and Helen; while she alternated between wishing her family would speak first, sothat she would never hear what Helen had to say, and that the latter would do so, and put an end to her torment.
‘It has been months since we had any word of our daughter,’ her father said imperiously, while her mother and Epi looked anywhere but at anyone. ‘We were naturally concerned, and couldn’t wait another day before ensuring her well-being.’
Thorn raised a disbelieving brow, and waited.
The crickets and bees in the garden entertained them for those long minutes, growing louder and louder, as if sharing the table’s anticipation.
‘This is absurd,’ her father finally said, breaking under the pressure; sweating from it, or the growing heat from the very bright sun, Hypatia wasn’t sure, but would wager on the former. ‘You must surely see now, Patty,’ he continued, turning his gaze on her, her mother and sister joining in, knowing their cues. ‘This was an utter mistake. A catastrophe. You cannot live like this. You’ve had your…fun, made your point, or whatever this was all about, and now it is time to return to your family. You owe this man nothing, we need you, and we cannot do without you. Your sister needs you, and you must distance yourself from this abhorrent life or she’ll have nothing, be forced to marry some viscount rather than the duke she deserves, and everything is a mess without you.’
‘I’m staying, Father,’ Hypatia said simply. ‘And I should appreciate it if you called me by my name. Not Patty. I did always despise that moniker.’
Her father started to grumble, searching for words, whilst her mother and sister began with the sniffing and tears. Thorn squeezed her hand, and she looked over at him, to find him silently asking if there was anything more she wished to add; she shook her head.
‘There is a cottage available to you for the night,’ Thorn told them, and that cut the hysterics, effrontery rapidly replacingthem. ‘Mary, or one of the others, will see to it you find your way there, and are well looked after.’
‘But—’ her father began.
‘You will remain there tonight, and depart tomorrow, by whatever means you came. And that is the end of it.’
Her father looked about ready to argue, but instead recognised the defeat, and stood, throwing his moth-eaten napkin onto the table, and gesturing for her mother and sister to rise as well.
‘Never in my life, have I been subject to such egregious treatment. You,sir, are the furthest thing from nobility one could dredge up from the gutters in St Giles.’
‘Good,’ Thorn said, smiling proudly.
And so her family stormed off, back into the house, voices and cries echoing in their wake.
Then there was only one left…
Malek looked about ready to leave too, but Thorn gave him a warning look, and so he focused again on moving the crumbs in his chipped plate around.
‘Your turn, Helen.’
Helen’s eyes danced between Thorn and Hypatia, and though she was minded like Malek to leave Thorn and Helen to this, Thorn was giving no sign he wanted her gone, or to do this alone, and so she remained, bracing herself for whatever came next.
‘It was admittedly rather rash,’ she said, as airily as possible, though Hypatia could tell there were a thousand other serious words dancing between every syllable. ‘I heard Malek was coming, and so I begged him to take me. I couldn’t… It wasn’t until you left, that I realised I couldn’t leave it all as it had been. I might’ve written, but that seemed the move of a coward, and I’ve been enough of one. I cannot move on without asking you again for your forgiveness.’
That wasn’t everything, but for the sake of them all just now, Hypatia, and she felt Thorn too, wouldn’t press the woman further; besides, she’d eviscerated herself enough publicly.
