‘Ah now,’ said Martha, her eyebrows raising. ‘That I can believe of him.’ She looked up into Thea’s eyes. ‘Grimston or not,whoever did this knew that the only thing that could keep me away from you was…’ she paused.
‘Was me,’ finished Thea, understanding.
‘Indeed.’ Martha gave a sad sigh.
‘Not anymore,’ said Thea gently, putting down the letter on the table and capturing both Martha’s hands with her own. Martha looked down at them, and Thea saw a tear drip onto the letter. It smudged the ink. It wasn’t the first smudge, she noticed. ‘Not. Any. More,’ she said again, more firmly. Martha looked up and gave her a sad smile. Thea squeezed her again and then let go to pour the tea.
‘I am sorry about the kiss,’ she said as they both sipped the welcomely warm liquid.
‘Do you promise you hated it?’ asked Martha, tucking her handkerchief back into a pocket now she’d wiped her eyes.
‘Absolutely awful,’ said Thea. ‘Truly.’
Martha took Thea’s hand from across the table, stroking the back of it and seemingly marvelling that she was able to touch it. ‘Wherever love cannot be open there will always be misconception,’ she said. ‘We cannot talk openly unless together and in private and we were not able to do so. But I need you to know there was never anybody else. That even through adventure, peril and discovery, you were always in my thoughts.’ She placed down her cup and reached for the box she had placed on the table.
‘What’s in there?’ Thea asked, curious.
Martha looked almost embarrassed. She kept Thea’s eyes for a few seconds, clicked a small, brass key in a lock and lifted the lid with the pressure of a thumb. Thea bent her head to peer inside, unsure what to expect. As the candlelight hit, they both looked at the contents. Tens or maybe hundreds of pebbles in a spectrum of colours, some large, some tiny, some smooth, some rough.Each one was tied carefully with a piece of string or cotton, a brown parchment label attached.
Thea had no idea what to think, or do, but Martha nodded towards them, indicating that Thea should take one. She did, a mid-sized, smooth, black pebble. Turning over the label, she read out loud. ‘Madre de Dios, Chile.’ She looked back at Martha. ‘You collected pebbles?’
Martha smiled. ‘I did.’
‘Why?’ Thea picked another pebble and then another, each with their own unique location attached. Isola Madre, Surabaya, Bencoolen – they all sounded hopelessly exotic.
‘For you,’ said Martha simply. ‘I know how partial you were to them on our journey to Whitby and so I resolved early in my travels to take one from every place I visited so you would know you were in my thoughts. I didn’t send them on as I wanted to give them to you myself, but then…’ she stopped abruptly and took a breath which stuttered a little. Thea was mesmerised. ‘Anyway, even after I came back, and went away again, I didn’t stop, because I always hoped, and I wanted to feel you with me.’
‘I always was,’ said Thea quietly, feeling how true it was. Her heart was full now she was certain of Martha’s commitment, the relief almost palpable. She replaced the pebbles in the box and slipped off her chair to kneel in front of Martha, just to be closer. ‘How I felt when I thought you had given me up…’
‘Never,’ said Martha, leaning into her.
Thea stroked Martha’s hands in her own. ‘I am so sorry I doubted you.’
Martha shook her head. ‘How could you do otherwise?’
‘Well not anymore.’ Thea was resolute. ‘Never again.’
Martha smiled. ‘I almost can’t believe you’re here.’ She traced a finger down Thea’s cheek. ‘How I have longed to have you with me.’ The look she gave Thea was solemn, but with a glint of heat.
‘I wanted you,’ said Thea, any hint of doubt leaving her at that look of fire. ‘In every possible way.’
‘Every possible way,’ muttered Martha, her dark eyes reflected the fire ahead of her.
Thea felt her face pull into an involuntary smile. ‘I do wish you would kiss me, Lady Foxmore. Do you not know I have waited long enough already?’
‘Long enough,’ repeated Martha, her eyes on Thea’s lips, and then they were pressed together, their mouths soft against one another, stroking, tasting, more considered than their urgent kiss on the pier. A longing Thea thought she had lost unfurled like a leaf in the first days of spring. They broke apart after an amount of time she couldn’t quantify.
‘Too long,’ said Thea, and heard how breathless she was. She pulled Martha to her feet.
Martha steadied herself on one of Thea’s shoulders and blinked, as if to bring herself back to the parlour. She looked almost embarrassed, and Thea hated the distance that had been put between them. Hated that the solidity of their trust had been weakened by something so vindictive, and so outside of their control.
‘Would you like me to call the carriage?’ asked Martha. Thea could see it was a genuine offer, that Martha would allow her to take her time, but she could also see the need that resided in those eyes.
‘Don’t you dare,’ she smiled, as she dropped another kiss onto Martha’s lips. Martha made a throaty sound of relief and slid fingers into Thea’s hair, pulling her close.
‘Thank god,’ she said.
‘It’s funny,’ said Martha as she followed Thea up the stairs, their hands clasped together. ‘I felt such distance from you for the past two years, now you are here it is like we have never been apart.’
