Her mother’s expression softened immediately. “Very well. I will not pry.”
Theo exhaled shakily as relief washed through her and she felt guilty for snapping at her Mother.
But Lady Dowell smiled at her kindly. “I only want you to be happy.”
“I know, and I only want you to be happy too.”
Her mother looked a bit confused, but she did not ask anything.
“I am happy, dear. And I would be happier if you stopped hiding,” she added softly.
Theo’s heart lurched. She knew that there was definitely no scientific explanation for a mother’s mind. They truly knew everything.
“I am not hiding,” she whispered. “I am just afraid to show myself.”
Lady Dowell gave her an understanding look, and it pained her that her own Mother would know how it felt to be afraid to show her true self to the world.
“You are hiding behind your notebooks. Behind your theories. And behind your fears.”
Theo’s fingers tightened around the leather cover.
Her mother leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You are brave, Theodora. Braver than you think. Do not let fear convince you otherwise.”
Theo’s eyes fluttered shut and her mother left the room quietly, closing the door behind her. She sat there for a long moment, notebook pressed to her chest, and heart pounding.
She opened it slowly.
The pages were filled with observations, hypotheses, lists and all the things she had used to keep herself safe. But now, between the lines, she saw something else. She saw herself searching for a meaning behind it all. Theodora traced the edge of the page with trembling fingers.
Perhaps her mother was right, and books could only take her so far. She pressed her fingers to her temples.
I have made a mess of everything. I had ruined everything with Alexander and Rosalind.
She had allowed him to kiss her, touch her, and unravel her completely… and then she had snapped at him like someone who was out of control. It was her decision, it was her experiment, and she had no right to feel anger towards him. She shook her head remembering how she left Rosalind and the look on her face. She probably did not trust easily and then Theo broke her trust even further by offering an excuse and skipping their walk.
“Perhaps I do not know what I am doing,” she whispered into the empty room.
The admission felt like a crack in her ribs. Just as the words left her mouth, she heard a knock at the door.
Who could it be this time?
She hid the notebook, unable to look at the mess she had made of her experiment. She stood and paced the room nervously, trying to breathe, trying to think, and trying to be rational.
A second sharp knock at the door made her jump.
She froze and prayed that it was not her father. He was the last person she wanted to see.
Another knock followed, firmer this time.
“Miss Dowell,” their butler called from the hallway. “A letter has arrived for you. I was told that it was urgent.”
Her pulse stumbled. She crossed the room quickly and opened the door. The butler handed her a sealed envelope made from thick, expensive paper. She knew who it was from before she saw the Hawthorne crest pressed into the wax.
“Thank you, Mr. Carson.” He bowed and left.
Theodora closed the door, leaned against it, and stared at the envelope as though it might burn her fingers. She broke the seal with trembling hands and unfolded the letter.
What could he possibly want from me now?
