‘No, thank you,’ she said, somewhat perplexed it seemed, still frowning.
‘Have you not enough room?’ He glanced in, noting the pile of clothes already put away as he advanced slowly, then peeked at the small collection of items—books and journals mostly—which had been set upon the bed in a neat pile. ‘Should I find another bag…?’
‘There is plenty of room.’
‘And that is the problem.’
Hypatia nodded, and Thorn dared get even closer. After all, she was his wife now.
Wife…why does the word drip so casually from my mind? So easily?
‘It isn’t that I lack belongings,’ she specified, those green-honey eyes meeting his, an openness in them he decided was particularlyHypatia. ‘I have what I need, and more than many. It’s only that looking at it all, gathering it all, I am struck by how little would remain to signify my time on this earth, and half of it wouldn’t quite signify it properly. I am tempted to leave whatever I feel isn’t mine, however I would then be forced to travel without clothes, and merely a stack of books. And I am aware of the fact we’ve no money for frivolities such as new garments.’
We.
Thorn hadn’t been awein a very long time.
He decided then, that he had missed it, and was reminded how much he liked it. Though he still hadonefriend remaining, years of grief, loss, and betrayal, along with a natural penchant for solitude, had conspired to perhaps harden him to the company of others. But whether it be with his father once, orwith Helen, he’d liked approaching life’s everyday and grand moments with another. Though he’d not looked on it all quite so fondly once upon a time, nor had he and Helen admittedly ever had such conversations as he was having now with Hypatia about money and frivolities. But then much of that was his own fault; not that he could fully admit it quite then.
The point was, simply, that he liked being aweagain, just as he liked Hypatia’s sensibility, as much if not more.
‘As tempting an image as that would present… I’m afraid I must ask you to make do. Which reminds me…’ He sighed, massaging his forehead, as Hypatia quirked her head inquiringly. ‘With all the haste, I hadn’t the time to warn you, or perhaps I was reluctant to. I must ask you to travel on alone to Gadmin Hall, and remain there a few days by yourself. Well, I am told a cook and a footman remain, so not entirely alone. I must to Essex, to settle my own affairs—I had not the time to do so after I was informed of the change in my circumstances, and can only afford to engage my solicitors for the bare minimum. You’ll have the carriage,’ he added hastily, referring to the contraption they’d ridden in when coming here from church—one of the title’s last remaining assets, which, along with its semi-ancient driver, luckily had been in London with the previously departed earl upon his leaving his mortal coil. Hypatia continued to but stare at him, her impressions on this change of plans unreadable. ‘It is not so fine as you are accustomed to, I know, but I have been promised it will make the journey back to Kent, at the very least. The house will be yours, to do with what you will whilst you are there, if you have a fancy to, or perhaps just enjoy your freedom, get to know the place…’
‘I will be fine, Thorn, thank you,’ she said gently, her hand finding its place on his forearm, and he breathed easier.
‘Very well then.’
A nod, and she took her hand back, before he could think to do anything silly, or sentimental, or unwanted, like take it up, and place a kiss upon it as a gentleman might.
Gathering up the pile waiting on the bed into her arms so that it seemed she carried the Leaning Tower of Pisa, she then stepped around him again, and summarily half-dropped, half-arranged it all into the trunk within mere seconds. That done, she shut the lid, locked it tight, and even made to pick it up—though Thorn quickly intervened. He might’ve called for a servant to assist, however, he had no need, and didn’t want to ask for anything further from this house. And so, he picked up her trunk, and followed her back downstairs.
No one but a footman remained in the hall—all but the front door closed—and Thorn ground his teeth. But then, as they made their way over the threshold, the footman cleared his throat, and glanced back meaningfully at the staircase. Tucked in beside it, along the corridor, were what Thorn imagined was the entirety of the staff, who all sniffed and waved, and mouthedcongratulationsto Hypatia. Mouthingthank youback at them, she smiled, nodded at the footman, and continued on her way, Thorn following behind.
As he secured the trunk, then handed her into the carriage, he glanced back at the house, if only to cement in his mind an image of the sort of house he never wished to create.
Looking a bit too far ahead there, Thorn. Right now you just need to ensure your house does not crumble, and sports a roof which can shelter this new wife of yours; this new being you’ve added to your life.
‘Drive on, Ian,’ he called, leaping up into the carriage himself, before slamming the door shut, and settling next to his wife, for a short time at least.
So the old retainer did, spiriting them away with as much haste as possible, and Hypatia turned to him, and smiled; an undecipherable smile he decided he liked very much.
Chapter Three
As the carriage rocked, rumbled, creaked and jolted, Hypatia was forced to wonder whether or not Thorn’s promise—and Ian’s when he’d handed her back up into it, after dropping Thorn off at his temporary London home and bidding him safe journey, while he continued on his own way—that the dusty, musty old contraption that smelt of damp and old patchouli, would survive the trip to Kent.
However, the thing did appear to have solid bones, and wasn’t entirely uncomfortable—if slightly used, especially as concerned the dips in the cushions, or flaking leather of the squabs—and thus far, it had held true. And given their speed, and the hours travelled, the miles covered, they had only about an hour or so left before they arrived at Gadmin Hall, so she could only hope the men’s promises would hold true; though admittedly there were enough stops along the road that were they to encounter any issue, they would not be far from aid or shelter.
Though we do not have much coin for either.
Indeed, she had only what she had squirrelled away over the years—portions from what little pin money she was on occasion allowed, or bits and bobs she kept after running errands—not an insignificant amount altogether as she’d never done much with it, hoping to someday use it to build her own future, butan amount she now considered as hersandThorn’s; and which would likely be needed to aid in buildingtheirfuture given all she’d heard about the house and farm, and despite her portion.
Some might find it odd, just how quickly she’d come to think of things in terms ofher and Thorn,their future, having only been married this morning, having only met the bridegroom days prior, knowing practically nothing about him, and given that this was a contract which obliged her to nothing more than speaking vows and keeping to them in many ways; however, that was a great part of who Hypatia was. Someone adept at quick and efficient adaptation; someone who found themselves in new situations, faced with new obstacles, and who merely accepted them, and soldiered on. Not entirely without grudging, but with a clear-cut understanding that no amount of dislike would change what was necessary for her to do, and so, on she would go.
In this respect—her marriage—she couldn’t say she was in any fraction grudging. In fact, she was rather excited, and hopeful. She’d liked Thorn well enough in the garden, and in every small moment since, she’d not seen or felt anything to counter that liking. Of course, she’d had doubts and questions—from the first; wondered if she was making the right choice, or if she was somehow being a hopeless, romantic dreamer for the first time, being impulsive when really, that wasn’t her at all. She’d asked herself quite often after their first encounter, what she was agreeing to; who she was entrusting herself to. Wondered if this all didn’t work out, would he let her go, in peace? Would he give her the means to do so, or would she have to survive another way? Would he turn out to be a terrible person, once her dowry was his, and she was trapped? Should she be thinking of her money ashers; as a means to escape in that eventuality? Or generally, should she be thinking ofhersas hers, andhisas his, rather thanours, andwe, and committingherself to anything more than their initial agreement of money for freedom?
Only she couldn’t help but be certain that he was agood man. From all she’d heard, seen, and felt—even his wanting to stand up for her with her father this morning—every little detail, every word, had been a clue to build the somewhat picture of a man with a head on his shoulders, who told no lies, and was…simple. She had as much conviction of his character as one could ever have, and in the end time would tell. For now, she trusted him, to behave as he had thus far—with honour, decency, and integrity—and that was what trust had always been to her. A conviction that someone would behave as they’d demonstrated they were apt to.
There was an allowance for surprises, naturally. However, betting on a certain pattern was as good a bet as one could lay; or so she had found thus far. So no, in the end, she’d concluded that she wasn’t being a hopeful romantic dreamer, but instead pragmatic, seizing a most welcome opportunity. And as regarded her small savings, well, she would keep a portion of it, enough, just in case escape was ever required as she too had a head on her shoulders, or so she liked to think, but the rest… The rest would be theirs. As fortheirfuture, the farm, the house, any of that, well, she would have to see what awaited her in Kent, however, she posited that success and solvency for the estate and the title would require more than simply Thorn’s efforts, and if she could help, she would. In the end, there was nothing wrong with ensuring all that would likely be providing her a life and a future, would do just that.
