“Such as… debts?” she asked.
“Anyone can say that you owe them, and you would not know any different,” he conceded, though that was the least of his concerns.
Still, he would keep his true fears from her; she did not need to fret about greater dangers while she was recovering.
A deeper frown creased Thalia’s brow, as it had done just a few moments ago when Frances had spoken of society’sgossipmongers. It had troubled Henry, more than he would have admitted, to hear that his wife was being spoken about in such a way.
And this is why I abhor society…
“Doyousee your cousin often?” Thalia asked a moment later, clearly determined to change the subject. “She seemed surprised to see you.”
“I see James on occasion—her brother—but I do not see Frances often, no,” Henry replied.
Thalia sat back, cradling her teacup. “Then, how is it that she and I are such good friends?”
“She made it so,” Henry explained, as he came to sit on the other end of the settee. “At our wedding, she decided that you would be one of her closest friends, and… I suppose that is what happened.”
“Yousuppose?”
He leaned back against the armrest. “Remember, wife, that I do not involve myself much in… what occurs in this manor.”
He had been about to say ‘in your life,’ but stopped himself, the words sounding too callous even tohisfamously sharp tongue.
“I do not know much about your friendship at all,” he continued, “but I have heard from the staff that you are as close as sisters. It is not unusual for Frances to call upon you without warning; I should have considered that. Anyway, it seems she has won your favor all over again… or, you have recalled something?”
Thalia’s throat bobbed, her striking green eyes shining with a sudden sadness. “No, I did not remember her.” She turned to look at him. “Tell me of her. Please.”
Henry had known how to contend with her anger, but he was not quite sure how to deal with this softer, sadder version of her. It made him uncomfortable, shifting in his seat as his limbs twitched and his nerves strained. Part of him wanted to make an excuse to leave, but the moment he took in her beautiful face, imploring him, he knew he would not.
Even now, she remained the most exquisite woman he had ever seen, as perfect in this moment as she had been on their wedding day: silken, dark blonde hair, the color of honey; rosy cheeks and a complexion that celebrated her love of the outdoors, the dusting of freckles across her nose marking the long walks that he had heard she favored; full lips that, apparently, were quick to smile though not for him.
But their separation had never been about her beauty, nor the character that he had taken no time to get to know.
“She was married,” he began. “Her husband died in an… unseemly fashion that we do not speak of. She was saddened by the loss, of course, but she was utterly heartbroken bythe response of her husband’s family. They evicted her just a fortnight after her husband’s death, and she returned to her brother’s house, where she has been Frances Brooks again, ever since.”
Thalia gasped. “Oh… the poor thing! I wish I had known. I wish I had… No, I suppose I could not have offered my sympathies or she would have known I am not myself.” She shook her head. “But she is so cheerful. How can she be, after such cruelty?”
“She is a hardier creature than she appears to be,” Henry explained. “She always has been. When we were much younger, she would insist on being permitted to join us boys in our every endeavor and, to her credit, she never complained and never retreated from a challenge.”
“I think I like her very much,” Thalia said with a quiet laugh, as afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows and gilded her already beautiful face, adding an ethereal quality.
He nodded. “You do. As I mentioned, the two of you are as close as sisters. She is constantly here, the pair of you as thick as thieves. Indeed, when she spoke of you facing the ton alone, I was surprised, for I assumed she was perpetually at your side.”
Rather than an expression of delight at being told about Frances, Thalia’s head tilted to one side, those green eyes burning with something like suspicion.
“How do you know so much about this friendship if we have been living apart?” she asked, her tone just as distrustful as her pretty eyes.
Henry had said too much. He knew he had, but he could not very well stuff the words back into his mouth.
He hesitated for a moment. “Youhave not been living in isolation.”
“What does that mean?” she remarked coolly.
“It means that, while I may not live here, you do not live here alone,” he replied. “And just because I am not involved in what you do, that does not mean I am entirely oblivious.”
He thought of Baxter, without whom the past four years would not have been such smooth sailing. The butler was worth his weight in gold for all he had done for Henry, but Henry would not reveal his informant so easily.
Did you think that because I was not here, I was not keeping an eye on you? Just because I am not here often, it does not mean I am indifferent to your existence as my wife.
