“Your Grace, I think it is your family,” Mrs. Fisher said from her new post by the drawing room windows.
Thalia all but threw down her embroidery. “It is?”
She hurried to the window, saw the familiar crest on the side of the carriage, and hurtled from the room. She was running so fast, squealing happily to herself, that she did not see Henry stepping down from the staircase until it was too late.
His arm shot out to catch her before they could collide, holding her steady for a moment.
“Where are you going in such a rush?” he asked.
She pulled back, wary of whether or not yesterday’s behavior had been a one-time occasion. “My family are here.”
“Did you invite them?” His tone was slightly colder than the day before, dark crescents beneath his eyes suggesting that he had not slept much either.
She shook her head. “It is an unexpected visit.”
“Of the good kind or the bad?”
“How am I to know that?” she replied, agitated.
Henry nodded in agreement. “A fair point. Come, let us greet them together.”
His mood still indecipherable, she did not refuse his arm when he offered it, allowing him to lead her to the front door. The carriage was just pulling to a standstill outside.
All of her anxiety was forgotten as Dorothy flew out of the carriage and raced up the porch steps to greet her, the two sisters meeting in a ferocious hug. Despite the squeezing, rib-crushingembrace, Thalia felt as if she could finally take a full breath again.
“My sweet Dorothy,” she sighed. “There you are.”
Dorothy chuckled. “I could not be away from you any longer. Even if you are very cross with us, I could not. I made Kenneth bring me.”
“I am not cross with you,” Thalia said, pulling back. “I doubt I could ever be cross with you, and you did nothing wrong.”
Kenneth appeared, clearing his throat. “No, that responsibility is mine.” He cast his gaze down, shamefaced. “I wanted to write and apologize, but… I did not know what to say. Are you well?”
“I am,” Thalia replied, reaching out to pat her brother gently on the arm. “Come on inside. Let us have some tea and, hopefully, a less incendiary discussion.”
Kenneth mustered a nervy smile. “I promise, I will not raise my voice at all.”
As Kenneth led Dorothy into the entrance hall and through to the drawing room, Thalia moved to follow, when the brush of Henry’s hand upon her waist made her jump in fright.
She gasped, turning her head sharply.
Henry tilted his head toward the drawing room. “Shall we?”
All innocence, as if he had just been meaning to guide her there.
“Well… yes, of course,” she replied, residual shock making her sound more irritated than she intended.
He did not touch her again as they made their way into the drawing room, where Mrs. Fisher quickly hurried off to fetch the things for tea.
“Father will be joining us momentarily,” Kenneth said, a tightness in his voice. “I tried to dissuade him, but he was most insistent on speaking with the duke.”
Still flustered, Thalia sat down opposite her brother. “But he was not in the carriage?”
“No. He has… purchased a new thoroughbred. He was resolute in his decision to ride it here,” Kenneth explained.
Dorothy sniffed. “We ought to give him an hour or two before we send out a search party.”
“Dorothy,” Kenneth chided mildly.
