Oliver.
Of course. The last time I had been home was for my engagement. After we were introduced by my brother Samuel, Oliver and I corresponded for over a year, as he was working for the British embassy in Athens at the time. But he returned to London for the Christmas holiday, and after gaining my father’s permission, he proposed to me. In the very room we were about to enter, in fact.
Will you make me the happiest man alive, Min, and consent to be my wife?
I had been in the middle of pouring the tea and overfilled his cup, as I was too busy staring at him in shock.
Our letters, while detailed and frequent, had never crossed over into love missives, though I had often imagined what Iwould write to him and what I wished to read in return. No, I truly thought Oliver only saw me as a friend. As Samuel’s peculiar younger sister. And that he had called on me that afternoon out of politeness. But Oliver strenuously assured me otherwise and claimed that he had fallen in love with me from nearly the first moment of our acquaintance, but didn’t think I would want to live abroad. I quickly rid him of this notion and gave him my enthusiastic acceptance. I don’t think my parents had ever been so proud of me as when we announced our engagement.
I had nearly been as nervous that afternoon as I was now. Oliver came from an old, aristocratic family, though he was only the second son and in the civil service. Still, it was a far better match than they had hoped for, given that I was considered an odd, mousy bluestocking by everyone else we knew. They fully expected us to marry immediately, but I had a term left at Girton, and Oliver supported my decision to finish. I could still recall the shock on my father’s face when Oliver explained this to him shortly after announcing my acceptance. His large, warm hand had tightened over mine, and I had never felt so sure of anything or anyone in that moment.
Mrs. Minnie Harper.
But, in truth, a small part of me never stopped wondering if he had married me out of a sense of duty. Because our parents moved in the same circles. Because I had a healthy dowry. Because many of our acquaintances had begun to marry one another, and we were of an age. It was easy to come up with practical reasons. Even after Oliver died, I still maintained that I had been unbelievably lucky that he had chosenmeto be his wife. But lately, I had begun to see things differently. That perhaps I had been too dismissive of my younger self and a little too generous towards my late husband. As genuinely wonderful as he was, I could now accept that he hadn’t married me for any reason other thansimple desire. Why it had taken me well over a decade to realize this was another matter.
I flexed my free hand now, searching in vain for a whisper of Oliver’s calming touch. But only the drafty air of the hallway slipped through my fingers. As we drew closer to the drawing room, I could hear the soft murmur of voices on the other side, and my heart began to race.
I gave Tommy a tight smile. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to that sweets shop we passed on the way here?”
But he only laughed, thinking it was a joke. “Come on, Mama.”
“Very well,” I muttered. Then I let out a resigned sigh and pushed the door open to face my family for the first time in over fifteen years.
The room fell silent as we crossed the threshold, and for one perilous moment, I worried we had come at the wrong time. But Morris wouldneverhave let us make such an error. The room itself was remarkably unchanged, and even the air still smelled of the rose-petal potpourri my mother loved, though it was dark in here—much darker than I remembered it ever being before. The curtains were drawn shut, and aside from a gas lamp in one corner of the room, the only other light source was the blazing fire in the hearth. Or perhaps I had simply grown used to our light and airy house on Corfu.
Regardless, I had to squint a little in the gloom and wait for my eyes to adjust.
My father was seated on the dark green brocade sofa, my mother next to him, while Dolly, my sister-in-law, was in a high-backed armchair.
I cleared my throat as I gripped Tommy’s shoulders. “Hello, there.”
My mother was the first to speak. “It’s Minerva. Hello,” she said in the cool, controlled voice that had echoed in myhead all these years. Then she rose with that perfect smoothness I remembered so clearly from childhood and beckoned to Tommy. “Come over here, Thomas. Good heavens, you’re big.”
Tommy pulled out of my grip and rushed over. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Grandmama and Grandpapa.” He said this with a charming little bow, and my mother actuallybeamedat him.
“Aren’t you the dearest thing,” Dolly cooed.
“Yes, very polite,” my mother added, smiling her approval.
I will admit to feeling a twinge of jealousy just then, as I could barely remember my mother smiling at me in such a way. But then, Tommy was a remarkably charming child.
“Well, don’t hover in the doorway, Minerva,” she scolded, in the tone I was much more familiar with. “Come here and join us. Your sister is upstairs, but she will be down shortly.”
I did as she bade, and as I approached, I could feel my mother’s sharp blue eyes skimming over me in assessment. She was widely considered one of the most beautiful women of her generation and had never failed to point out all the ways in which I failed to measure up. Even now, with her hair far more white than blond, she was still stunning.
“Agatha mentioned you were looking well,” she said, sounding a touch reluctant, after I gave her a kiss on both cheeks. Then her eyes narrowed. “Though you have too much color. Don’t you wear hats in Greece?”
“Yes, Mother. But the sun is quite strong there.”
She made a hum of uncertainty, as if she wasn’t sure I knew of what I spoke.
“Well, I think you look simply marvelous,” Dolly said as we embraced. She still had the same cherubic face I remembered, though her brown hair was now streaked with silver at her temples.
Dolly and I had never been close, as she was about sixyears older than me. When she married my brother Jack, the age difference had made them seem positively ancient. But as I returned her easy smile, I hoped we could be friends now that I was in London.
“Thank you. How is my brother?” Who was noticeably absent.
“Oh, you know. Busy as usual,” Dolly said with a sigh. “He so wished he could be here tonight, but something came up. We’ll have to have you over soon so you can have a proper catch-up.”
