Dear Miss Stillwell,
We have received your correspondence, and as you seem incapable of understanding a clear snub, I am forced to tell you in no uncertain terms that we do not wish to hear from you now or in the future. Please desist.
Mrs. Matthias Baxter
Hettie sat there with the letter in her lap, her eyes fixed on the rug beneath her. For all that the response was not unexpected, she still felt its sting. Turning her gaze back to her flute, she attempted to stir herself to practice or to read the rest of her letters at the very least, but she couldn’t help frowning at the floor.
Another rap on the door stirred her to action, and she gathered up the letters as she called out for the visitor to enter.
Thomas peeked through the door, his brows raised as he located Hettie. “Am I bothering you?”
“Not at all,” she said with an attempted smile. “I was just practicing.”
But he paused on the threshold, his hands tucked behind him, and in a tone that was far more gentle than one would imagine coming from a navy man, Thomas asked, “Is something the matter?”
That concern drew a true grin, and Hettie waved it away. “Just a spot of bad news. That is all.”
“Might I be of assistance?” he asked with a frown that was so genuinely troubled that it helped to ease the last of her pain away.
“Not unless you can fundamentally alter how my husband’s other children view me,” she said with a half-smile.
Thomas drew in a sharp breath and shook his head. “As I previously occupied the role of ‘least favorite’ in the family before you arrived, I fear I am of little help.”
Hettie raised a staying hand. “Pay me no mind. I had simply hoped for a better outcome. Stanley still refuses to speak to his father, but Baxter has managed to open the lines of communication with Matthias and his daughters. I had hoped that perhaps they’d softened enough for me to attempt it as well, but I knew it was unlikely, as they refuse to acknowledge me even in their letters to their father.”
Then, motioning toward the sofa, she invited him to sit. “But please do not tell Baxter. I fear he takes that rejection harder than I do, and there’s no reason to trouble him.”
Thomas paused, his gaze fixed on her. “As another who is relatively new to this family and attempting to navigate it, I will certainly honor your request, but I will say that keeping secrets from your staunchest ally does no good.”
“It is no secret,” said Hettie with a laugh. “Baxter knows full well how the children feel about me, but it hurts him to see it. To be entirely honest, I do not care beyond the pain it causes him. They are his children, and he adores them regardless, but I find it difficult to forgive them for how they’ve treated him. I try for his sake—and his alone.”
“That is good of you,” he said with a huff and a shake of his head before taking the proffered seat. “It speaks highly of you that you even bother to foster a relationship. My parents haven’t bothered to write to me in so long that I haven’t the foggiest notion if they and my siblings are alive or dead.”
Hettie paused at that, her brows furrowing, but before she could say a word, he shifted and waved it away.
“To borrow your phrase, pay me no mind,” he said with a bright laugh. However, there was a quality to the sound that settled uneasily in her ears, though Hettie couldn’t say she knew the gentleman well enough to judge if the laugh had been sincere or not. “Between the fracture in Charity’s family and the birth of my daughter, I find myself thinking more and more about my upbringing.”
“So, it is a day for being maudlin, is it?”
Thomas chuckled once more, an earnest grin finally crossing his features. “Any day I get to return to my true family is a good one—which brings me to my purpose in calling on you. I wanted to speak to you whilst Charity is putting Biddie down for her nap.”
For all that it had been he who had sought her out, the turmoil surrounding Camilla’s letter had forced that from her mind, and Hettie perked.
“I wanted to thank you for all you did for my family.” Thomas paused and took a deep breath, his gaze holding Hettie’s with such unadulterated gratitude that her heart warmed at the sight. “You were there for her when I couldn’t be, helping her through such a difficult time, and since then, you’ve become like a second mother to her. Or a first one, in many ways, for Charity had a complicated relationship with Dolores.”
“I think the Baxter family motto is ‘complications at every turn.’” Hettie laughed at her quip, and Thomas joined in.
“Isn’t that the truth.”
But Hettie didn’t wish to let the moment slip into levity quite yet, and she gathered all the joy the last months had given her and funneled them into her words as she said, “I am grateful for her, as well. I never was able to have children of my own, and I adore Charity as much as any mother could.”
“And Biddie is lucky to have a lady like you to call grandmother.”
Hettie’s eyes glistened at that, the delight of those words settling deep into her heart. Though not by blood or birth, she had a daughter and son-in-law now, with a granddaughter and more to come.
Thomas drew in a deep breath and added, “When I return to my ship, I shall rest easier knowing she has you nearby.”
Though the words were sweet, there was a heaviness in his tone and expression that spoke of a dissatisfaction so palpable that Hettie couldn’t ignore it. Not that she wished to. This was the precise conversation she’d hoped to have with Thomas at some point during this visit, so it was a blessing to have it served up to her so easily. But it didn’t make it any easier to broach such a tender subject.
