“Tomorrow, I will take you to your family.” With that, he walked out, unaware that he had taken all of the air in the room with him.
CHAPTER 11
“Ido not remember these roads,” Thalia whispered, vexed by the unfamiliarity of the countryside that moved past the carriage window.
The world had shifted to that magical time between late winter and early spring, when buds were beginning to appear on the stark trees, the first leaves sprouting, saplings pushing up through dense blankets of soil to feel the sun for the first time. A time of transformation, the chill in the air not so harsh, the birds seeming to sing that little bit louder, the creatures preparing for new life, the days growing longer and brighter to cheer the soul.
It was autumn when the carriage turned over. I have lost so many seasons.
“But I will see my family soon,” she told herself, speaking aloud to prevent the silence from becoming too intense. “That is something to celebrate.”
Henry had chosen to ride alongside the carriage, and no servants were accompanying them, though Rowena and Mrs. Fisher had both volunteered. As such, Thalia was alone with her thoughts; a dangerous place to be.
Why can I not remember anything at all? Surely, I should have begun to remember by now.
She rested her palm against the site of her injury, where a bruise shaped like France was beginning to yellow at the edges. It was still tender to the touch, but hidden enough beneath the rim of her bonnet… not that she needed to hide it from her family. They, at least, knew about her accident. It would be such a relief not to have to fumble her way through a conversation as she had done with poor Frances.
Just as she was about to settle back against the squabs and contemplate a nap, she caught sight of a familiar gatepost, topped with a praying angel with wings spread.
We are here already?They could not have been on the road for more than a few hours.
She sat up straighter, nervous excitement stoking her heart into a frenzy as the carriage turned onto the blissfully familiar driveway of Farhampton Manor.
Beautiful ancient oaks still lined the drive, though two wide stumps marked the spot where two had obviously fallen. The lawns were as green as she remembered, immaculately trimmed, with the apple orchard on the right and a spread of verdantpaddocks stretching away to the left. A relic from the days when her father had tried his hand at raising thoroughbreds for the races, only to sell most of his paltry stock some five years later at a severe loss.
But those paddocks remained, and grew such pretty wildflowers in the spring and summer: a feasting ground for vibrant butterflies and industrious bees and jewel-toned dragonflies.
And the manor itself…
The long sandstone structure with its exquisite glass domes stood proud against a blue sky, bay windows winking in the sunlight, welcoming Thalia home. Entirely unchanged. Entirely what she had needed to see.
Now,thisis home. For all its faults, this is where I belong.
After all, the faults had nothing to with the actual manor, and everything to do with the patriarch who presided over it.
By the time the carriage drew to a standstill at the bottom of the porch steps, Thalia was so eager to be inside that she did not bother to wait for a footman. She threw open the door and hurried out, her shoes crunching on the white gravel as she raced up the steps and straight into the entrance hall.
“Dorothy? Kenneth?” she shouted up, that lovely golden sunlight spilling in through the glass dome above, casting fragments of rainbow light onto the marble floor.
“Thalia?” A shriek preceded the arrival of someone who resembled the thirteen-year-old sister that Thalia had left waiting on the night of her first accident, but had transformed from girl to woman.
She grew up… and I missed it.Of course, Thalia knew that was not true. She hadnotmissed Dorothy growing up, but it felt that way as she watched, reality and recollection jarring in her mind.
Dorothy skidded onto the landing above, running with her skirts hitched up, though Thalia had often chided her for the unladylike act. The younger woman took the steps of the curving staircase at a worrisome pace and positively flew into Thalia’s waiting arms.
“You are here!” Dorothy crowed, hugging her sister tightly. “Oh, how I have missed you! How have I missed seeing you in this house! Oh, my sweet sister. My sweet, sweet sister.”
Feeling like she might cry, Thalia buried her face in Dorothy’s shoulder, surprised that her sister was now almost the same height as her. Saying nothing, Thalia just savored the moment of reunion as if it truly had been four years since they had last seen one another.
“You have grown so much,” Thalia mumbled, heartbroken and gladdened in equal measure.
Dorothy chuckled. “You say that even when you have all of your memories. Every time I see you, you say I have grown a little more, though I do not think that can be true.”
They hugged even tighter, if only so Thalia could buy herself a bit more time to come to terms with the present.
“How longhasit been since I last saw you?” she asked, once she had composed herself.
Dorothy pulled back, smiling. “Over a month. Eliza invited me to Northumberland, so I was there for four weeks… and then I heard of your accident and Papa said I could not visit until you were well, so I have been here, anxiously waiting.”
