Marigold awoke to birdsong and, having slept late, heard the sounds of the Leister siblings shuffling around downstairs, opening cabinets and clanking plates and beginning to chatter.
And there was a real, solid man’s arms around her, and he was asleep…
Marigold’s eyes, which she had lazily been opening and closing, now snapped open. She gently lifted Finn’s arms from around her and darted back to her room.
Nothing untoward had taken place, she reminded herself. No, this engaged man had only comforted her while she was crying in the middle of the night. But the way he held her…kissed her forehead… That was not something she would have wanted any fiancee of hers to do with another woman.
In fact, if they had been proper, it followed that Hestia herself had never slept in that bed, had been so close to Finn in the middle of the night…
So, Marigold thought to herself as she changed into the trousers Freddie had brought to her, those…improper parts, those must have been a dream.
Marigold positively ran down the stairs, with her bag packed, and found her distress unmatched by the lazy breakfast she intruded upon in the kitchen. Rosemary was lingering over a cup of coffee and a sweet bread, Freddie lounging in her nightdress, twirling a large slice of buttered bread in her hand. William and Luke were there too–refrying leftovers from the night before. They all seemed to be comfortably gossiping about the events of the night before, but silence descended when Marigold plunged into the room. William jumped up from his seat. His eyes flicked to her bag.
“Not going already?”
Rosemary stood up.
“No, she’s not leaving–Marigold, why are your bags packed?”
Rosemary did have an imperious way about her, Marigold reflected, and upon being questioned, Marigold almost wanted to run up to her room and unpack her bags.
“I wanted to go see the portrait painters today–the Hummels. Last night they told me about some painting–and made me want to go and see it rather desperately.” Marigold paused, and sighed, realizing how breathless she was. “So that’s what I’ve decided to do today.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to leave,” Rosemary said.
Freddie got up and took Marigold’s hand.
“I wanted to take you around the land today–you can’t go just yet, not when we were just beginning to be such friends.”
Marigold stood there, silent, unsure of what to do. She shifted on her feet. William approached her, set his hand on her back. A shiver went down Marigold’s spine. William looked very much like his brother, Finn, except his eyes were a deep brown where Finn’s were light blue.
Ever since last night she felt something…awakening in her.
“You don’t have to stay,” he said. “But at least let me take you to the Hummels house. Then you can decide.”
“And you must have breakfast first,” Rosemary said. “I know it sounds strange, Marigold, but I hope you decide to stay. I just have this feeling that we’re all supposed to know you.”
Marigold was touched, and in addition to that, she felt some sympathy for that type of mystical feeling. Wasn’t it similar to her own feeling–the feeling that she was looking for something, on a journey to find something, but she wasn’t sure exactly what it was?
“Do you think I’m silly?” Rosemary asked.
Marigold shook her head.
“Not at all.”
Rosemary gestured to a seat and William guided her to it, touching the small of her back. It had been awhile since Marigold had enjoyed such gestures of tenderness. William was clearly pursuing her in some way–whether for a light fliration or something more, Marigold couldn’t be sure. But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying it–feelingseenwhen she walked into a room, even if he didn’t know all of her–the parts he did know, were known honestly. She hadn’t been hiding when she spoke to him.
But then Finn appeared, just in time to see her sitting down at the table. He seemed to be just as breathless as Marigold was moments earlier. When she looked at him, Marigold felt that her insides were made of bursting stars. She wanted to blurt out that she was leaving, so that Finn felt comfortable–she opened her mouth but closed it again–because, beyond being gracious to her host, why should she deny herself a comfortable bed and the chance to pursue a lead about the facts of her life, to get in touch with people who may have known her parents when she was young? Instead of saying I’m going to leave, she said,
“I’m going to see the painters today. William is taking me.”
“And we are trying to convince her to stay on another day,” Rosemary said.
“Don’t go,” Finn said abruptly, then he cleared his throat. The siblings all looked at one another, searching each other’s faces for answers to this strange behavior.
“Hestia was so taken with you,” Finn added.
Marigold narrowed her eyes and nodded her head.
