STANDING BY HIS BEDCHAMBERwindow, Matthew stared into the night. He’d never particularly liked the opera. The only reason he’d suggested going was because he’d wanted to see Miss Townsbridge again in a different setting. That, and he’d wanted a chance to show her one of the benefits she would enjoy as his wife. His box was exceedingly comfortable and offered a particularly superb view of the stage. Her parents had commented on it, but the lady herself hadn’t seemed to care. She’d been far more interested in chatting. And he, he had to admit, had been so enthralled that the three hour performance he’d dreaded had flown by in no time at all.
He placed his hand on the cool window pane and expelled a breath, allowing it to fog the glass. She wasn’t far, just a stone’s throw away, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing at that exact moment. Was she sitting up late enjoying a book, having a late night snack, or sleeping peacefully in her bed?
Closing his eyes for a moment, Matthew told himself not to care. It didn’t matter what she did, if she liked to walk so fast that it felt like one’s heart would fly from one’s chest, whether she found the work he’d done on the folly impressive, or if she was keen on helping an injured animal back on its feet. The only thing of any importance at all was that she would make a suitable duchess and a good mother for his children. Anything more was too dangerous.
It already is.
You look forward to seeing her.
Just the mere thought caused his heart to race.
Don’t lose control.
He wouldn’t.
He’d been guarding his heart for nineteen years. Getting to know Miss Townsbridge did not equal falling in love with her. Heavens, he was much too sensible to let that happen. But he was also wise enough to admit that he ought to have some idea of who she was as a person - beyond what he’d learned during his selection process.
So he’d enjoy another outing with her. What possible harm could there be in that?
Happy with how things were going and his ability to keep control, he drew the curtains and climbed into bed without sparing Miss Townsbridge another thought. Or two. But no more than three.
#
“IT’S JUST AS PRETTYas I expected,” Miss Townsbridge exclaimed a few days later as they walked through Kew Gardens. They were making their way toward a Chinese tower she’d heard of and wanted to see. This time, she’d brought a maid along with her. Anna was her name. She trailed behind at an appropriate distance, so he and her mistress could speak with each other discreetly.
“I see you’ve decided to temper your pace for a change.”
“This park has a great deal to look at, Your Grace. The flower arrangements, for instance, are stunning. I fear I would miss most of it if we rushed.”
He tilted his head, acknowledging her appreciation for her surroundings. “Tell me, if you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”
He wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but the chance it gave him to learn more about her made him eager to know her answer.
She seemed to consider her response with care before saying, “I think it would be grand if I were able to invent a cure for smallpox.”
“Really?” He’d thought she’d say something far less serious, like that she would love to visit the pyramids or try to ride an elephant. But of course she wouldn’t. This was Sarah Townsbridge, the woman whose greatest wish was to help those in need. He really should have known better.
“There used to be six of us, you see.” She spoke with a wistful fondness, her voice conveying a loss wrapped in good and bad memories. “We Townsbridge children had another sister once. Claire was her name.”
A chill scraped his bones. He knew how this story would end and it wouldn’t be happily. And even though he hated the habitual words himself because they always seemed to fall flat, he couldn’t help but say, “I’m so sorry.”
“She was my identical twin,” Miss Townsbridge said. “I was six years old when she got sick and died. Mama says the sickness took her quickly, but according to my recollection, it went on forever. I remember everything from that time in various shades of black and grey. The house was not the home it is today, but rather a monstrous emptiness trying to devour us all. There was no understanding or acceptance on my part. I hated God for taking Claire from me. In some ways, I still do.”
“And yet you’ve managed to find peace beyond the grief.” He marveled at her ability to overcome such loss when his own continued to cripple him.
“I had my family. They suffered too so I wasn’t alone. And gradually, with time, I began to accept that nothing would ever be as it once was. Eventually, I moved on.”
“Because you stopped thinking about her as often?”
“Not at all. It was because I started talking about her, which prompted the others to join in, and soon, instead of this weight bearing down on my chest, I was able to smile over all the fun I’d had with Claire, if only for a brief time. I was blessed to have her in my life. We all were. I’ll always miss her. I think it’s the reason why I so often sit on the edge looking in, because I’ve never stopped feeling like half of me is missing, which is quite an awkward sensation to have. But it’s what lets me know she’s still with me. Right here.” She placed her hand over her heart. Then before Matthew could say anything she grinned. “Oh look. I think there are games over there. Come on.”
He quickened his pace to keep up with her, his mind still struggling to come to terms with what she’d just said. Surely there’d been a reason for it. A person didn’t bare their soul like that without cause. Did she know what had happened to him? Had she figured out why he felt the occasional need to flee?
His family’s death would be noted in the most current volume of Debrett’s. But few would make a connection. After all, it had been so long ago, most people would expect him to have gotten over it by now. But Miss Townsbridge wasn’t most people. He was starting to suspect she saw a lot more than anyone realized. Being on the outside always looking in, as she’d put it, would have made her a keen observer.
Matthew shivered. He didn’t want her digging around in his past or trying to save him. He wanted to keep the pain buried, and when it started to climb out of its hole, he wanted to stomp on it until it crawled back in.
