“We never talked about that,” he said.
Hestia stood up and glowered at him.
“You are disturbing me,” she said. “Be careful. I have other options.”
“Maybe you should explore those other options.”
Hestia’s lip began to tremble.
“You don’t want to marry me?”
“I’m just not sure anymore.”
Finn knit his hands together. The most painful sentence had been uttered. He was at least consoled by the angry expression on her face. She looked like she had lost a pretty possession, not a soulmate.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Hestia said. She pulled the engagement ring off her finger and threw it at him.
“When you come to your senses,” she continued, “I may still be here.” Hestia went to the curtains and drew them tighter against the sun.
“Then again, I probably won’t be.”
Chapter Seven
Marigold
Marigold rode fast all the way home, not caring if she startled other travellers with her speed. It was a relief when she got off the main roads and onto the field– to feel herself getting closer and closer to Finn’s property. As she found herself alone on the land she let her tears fall as the landscape passed, and when she arrived at the house it was mercifully and miraculously empty, with Rosemary and Freddie and Luke out in the fields, Finn Sr likely in his study. She raced up the stairs and closed the door to her room. Collapsing on her twin bed, full of strangeness and sorrow, Marigold fell into a mysterious sleep–the sun still shining strong through her window.
Hours later, at sunset, Marigold awoke, her face raw and itchy from crying.
Something was happening to her.
For the past several years, she had never been able to sleep during the day–not even if she experienced two straight nights of insomnia. Now she fell into bed like a rock in broad daylight, after a decent sleep the night before.
This signalled to her that, despite the pain that she was experiencing, things were goingright. Her body, if not her mind, had tasted some peace.
So did that mean that what the woman, Melinda, had told her in private was true?
Marigold hugged her knees with her arms.
And if thatwastrue, did it mean that her life had been built on a lie?
And lastly, should she be angry about that lie? Should she wonder about the life that could have been if she had been told the truth?
A knock on her door.
“One second!” Marigold called out. She expected Rosemary on the other side, probably looking to call her to dinner.
Marigold glanced in the looking glass on her table, rubbed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Finn.
He looked embarrassed and began scratching the back of his head.
“I just wanted to see if you were alright,” he said, shrugging. “I told the others not to disturb you, but it’s been several hours now, so I worried.”
“Did you?” Marigold asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “That’s sweet. You know, I didn’t think I would sleep for…five hours, I guess? But I do feel better.”
“I won’t ask…exactly how you became ill,” Finn continued, “but I expect you will tell me some day. For now we can be silent on it, if that’s what you want.”
