by Regina Darcy
Christiana looked up from the sewing she was attempting to do, seeing Mrs Hardcastle approaching her with a knowing look on her face. She was sitting in the kitchens by the fire, enjoying the solitude and the opportunity to sew one or two holes that had appeared in her travelling dress.
“No,” she admitted quietly. “No, he is not. Although, I think he may visit after dinner.”
Mrs Hardcastle nodded slowly, sitting down in the slightly worn chair opposite Christiana, pressing her hands towards the blazing fire in the grate so that she might warm them. “You did not go for your walk after all yesterday afternoon?”
“No,” Christiana replied, keeping her gaze fixed on the sewing in her hands. “No, we did not.”
“And I could not help but notice that there was a little tension over dinner,” Mrs Hardcastle continued gently. “You need not tell me, my lady, but I am concerned that something untoward has occurred.”
Christiana set down her sewing with a heavy sigh, aware that Mrs Hardcastle had seen everything and finding that she did, in fact, want someone to talk to about what had occurred. “Thayne offered me matrimony.”
Mrs Hardcastle did not appear in any way surprised by this news, nodding slowly and considerately. “I see.”
“I did not know what to say or what to do,” Christiana continued, guilt colouring her features. “It was all so unexpected that I simply stared at him in complete astonishment for a few moments.” Recalling just how embarrassed Thayne had been at her silence, how red his face had become and how he had turned away from her, Christiana rubbed one hand over her eyes in frustration. “He is such a good man, I think, but I cannot ever accept his marriage proposal.”
“Why not?” Mrs Hardcastle asked quickly. “Is he unsuitable for you?”
“No, no, not at all,” Christiana answered, shaking her head. “He is not titled, of course, but that does not matter to me. He comes from a good family, is wealthy enough to keep me in comfort—which are two things that my father has always insisted on considering—but it is not anything of that sort that has my heart so desperate to refuse him.”
Mrs Hardcastle frowned. “I do not understand what you mean, my lady.”
“It is that he is too good,” Christiana explained, feeling herself tremble inwardly. “I am not a lady that any gentleman should consider tying themselves to, Mrs Hardcastle. I ran off with another gentleman in the hope of eloping, which means that as far as society is concerned, I am completely and utterly disgraced. I could not bring that shame onto Thayne.” Her heart began to ache within her chest.
It ached to discover that she did not find the idea of marriage to the Honourable Aaron Thayne to be in any way disagreeable. He was, as she had just told Mrs Hardcastle, kind, generous, and, in all other ways, quite wonderful. But it was that part of his character had her so unwilling to accept his offer.
“I know that he offered to marry me simply in response to my own selfish complaints.”
To her surprise, Mrs Hardcastle leaned forward and pressed her hand, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “I think you are giving Thayne a little less credit than he is due,” she said carefully. “I have known him for longer than you, Lady Christiana, and I have seen the tremendous sorrow that he bears. Everything he does is considered and careful. Impetuous is not something that describes him. He would not have proposed without truly being genuine about his intentions towards you.”
“But he could marry someone much better than me,” Christiana responded quickly. “I am disgraced in the eyes of society!”
“But not in his eyes,” Mrs Hardcastle stated at once, patting her hand. “And that is all that matters.”
Christiana found that she could not easily answer this and, drawing in a long, steadying breath, tried to think carefully about all that had occurred. When she had been in Thayne’s arms, crying desperately as the pain had washed over her, mingling with her overwhelming appreciation of his kindness, it had felt as though she belonged there. She had not wanted to remove herself from his arms, feeling him strong and reliable as she wept there. How he had tried to comfort her! He had been so desperate to stop her tears, holding her tightly against him as he had whispered things into her ear. In that moment, she had thrown asunder all her fears and all her nagging doubts about Thayne’s character. She had refused to allow them space in her heart and mind any longer, knowing for certain that Thayne was nothing like Lord Archibald in any way. Choosing to cling to what she knew of Thayne, of what he had proven to her, she had held onto him tightly, letting her emotions run free.
She had been honest with him, seeking to know, to understand, why he was so kind to her in spite of what she had done. He had answered her truthfully, she saw, aware of how he had cupped her face in his hands, honesty shining in his eyes. Despite her desire to feel nothing, despite her promise to herself to keep her heart shackled, she had felt it rise up within her, bursting with warmth and a deep, unrelenting fondness for the man who had shown her such generosity, who had become such a protector in the midst of all she had done.
“You think well of him, then?”
Christiana started, having been dragged from her thoughts by Mrs Hardcastle’s gentle voice.
“I do—I do not know what to make of it all,” she admitted carefully. “I have been foolish once; I will not be so again. I do not want Thayne to tie himself to someone who is unworthy of him, who will make his life difficult and miserable in the years to come.”
Mrs Hardcastle shook her head. “I do not think you would ever do such a thing, Lady Christiana.”
“Not intentionally, no,” Christiana admitted. “But it may come, given what I have done.”
Mrs Hardcastle sighed heavily and sat back in her chair, a small smile playing about her lips. “You do look a little like his late wife, to be honest,” she commented, after a moment. “Has he spoken to you of her?”
Christiana nodded, her brows knotting together. “He has told me of what happened to her.”
“A truly terrible event,” Mrs Hardcastle sighed, the smile gone from her expression now. “They cared for one another deeply, I believe, but duty must come first. I know how much Thayne regretted having to go to London so close to Christmas and how much he was looking forward to coming home to her. To find her so must have been more terrible than I can imagine.”
Christiana swallowed hard, feeling a yawning emptiness open up within her. “It was some years ago, I believe.”
Mrs Hardcastle nodded. “Five,” she replied, glancing at Christiana before letting her gaze travel back to the fire. “Five years. I remember that Christmas well.”
A little intrigued and, for herself, quite relieved that they were no longer discussing how she felt about Thayne and what Thayne might feel for her, Christiana sat forward in her seat. “Do you know anything about what happened?” she asked quietly. “Not that I wish to pry, but after all the kindness Thayne has shown me, I do want to help him in any way that I can.”
After a moment’s consideration, Mrs Hardcastle shook her head. “I know some details, of course, but I was not there at the time.”
“Then, why do you remember that Christmas so well?” Christiana asked her, frowning.
Mrs Hardcastle’s expression cleared. “Oh, I see what you mean. No, the reasons I recall that Christmas have very little to do with Thayne and his dear wife. No, the only reason I recall it is because that was the first time I had someone of the highest peerage staying here at the boarding house. Paid me very well, too, for the trouble. I think he knew full well that I did not believe his name to be Bartholomew Smithers!” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I can always tell when the peerage is staying here, whether or not they give me their proper title.”
Something began to gnaw away at Christiana’s mind, and she stared at Mrs Hardcastle as though she could not quite understand what she was saying. “Can I ask, Mrs Hardcastle, whether or not this person has ever returned to your boarding house again?”
Mrs Hardcastle loo
ked at Christiana in surprise, before shaking her head. “No, never.”
“And it is quite usual for people to refuse to give you their correct name and title?” Christiana persisted, her questions burning through her mind. “That has happened before?”
Mrs Hardcastle shrugged. “It has occurred on occasion, yes.” A small, lopsided smile caught her lips. “There are some who do not wish to be discovered, for whatever reason, and I am always willing to go along with their wishes.”
Christiana nodded slowly, her gaze drifting away from Mrs Hardcastle as she thought.
“But why are you asking these things?” Mrs Hardcastle asked gently. “It can be of no interest to you now, surely?”
Wondering whether she should to explain, Christiana considered for a moment. “It is just that Thayne himself told me his estate is not far from here,” she began slowly. “I was just thinking that—”
“Oh, his estate is some distance from this place!” Mrs Hardcastle interrupted with a laugh. “A good half day’s drive!”
Something began to sink in Christiana’s heart. “Oh,” she murmured, feeling a little foolish.
Mrs Hardcastle smiled at her. “What is it you are thinking, my lady?”
Now feeling quite embarrassed, Christiana lifted one shoulder. “It is nothing of importance. In my desire to aid Thayne in some way or other, I had thought to try and help him discover the truth about his late wife’s passing. I know he believes that someone took her life—”
“Yes, indeed,” Mrs Hardcastle muttered, under her breath. “Everyone knows it to be so.”
Christiana hesitated. “I think I hoped to help him discover who it was that had done such a thing. As ridiculous as it may sound, I thought that mayhap the person who stayed here that day might have something to do with it—or, at the very least, know a little.” She shook her head, a rueful smile on her lips. “But now, I see that such an idea was quite ridiculous.”
There was a long, pronounced silence. Christiana did not look at Mrs Hardcastle, quite certain that the lady would have a sympathetic smile on her face which would only make Christiana aware of how foolish she had been to think such a thing in the first place.
“It is not as ridiculous as you think.”
It was as though she had been struck with a lightning bolt. Every part of her body shot to life as Christiana stared at Mrs Hardcastle, noting the flash of fear in her eyes.
“The gentleman appeared on Christmas Day,” Mrs Hardcastle continued, choosing each word carefully as her eyes darted from place to place, evidently trying to recall exactly what had occurred so many years ago. “He was almost blue with cold; it looked like he’d been riding most of the morning. His horse, poor thing, had to be fed hot mash in order to revive it somewhat, although he did not take it with him when he left the boarding house.”
Christiana sat forward in her chair. “What do you mean?”
“A carriage came for him,” Mrs Hardcastle explained, her eyes now burning with a sudden brightness. “It had no markings, but it had obviously been arranged. It came first thing in the morning.”
“So, he was only here for one day?” Christiana asked, clasping her hands together so tightly that her fingers burned with a sudden pain. “He left soon after he arrived?”
Mrs Hardcastle nodded. “He arrived in the afternoon and, having dined in his room, was gone by first light the following morning. He did not even stay for breakfast.”
Christiana let out a long, slow breath, her mind fighting all sorts of thoughts that came at her in a rush, desperate to try and make some sort of sense of them.
“I never once considered it to be anything untoward,” Mrs Hardcastle continued, sounding a little perturbed. “A lot of people come and go around these parts, and so I thought…”
Putting a bright smile on her face, Christiana tried to reassure Mrs Hardcastle. “I do not think that you need unduly concern yourself, Mrs Hardcastle. The gentleman might very well have simply been passing through and is not connected to Thayne in any way.”
“Although,” Mrs Hardcastle replied, her expression a little dark, “to refuse to give me his name brings with it a little curiosity.”
Christiana had to agree. It was rather strange that a gentleman had simply appeared at the boarding house during the period in question and that he had refused to give Mrs Hardcastle his real name and title—even more so that he had taken an unmarked carriage from the boarding house onwards.
“I thought nothing of it at the time,” Mrs Hardcastle said in a quiet whisper. “I did not know of the lady’s passing until sometime later, and even then, I never once thought that the gentleman who had called was in any way involved. Why would I? Most likely, I thought it to be one of Thayne’s staff.”
“I think,” Christiana said carefully, her thoughts finally centring themselves, “that we must speak to Thayne about this and allow him to decide what to do thereafter. It was his wife, his burden, his torment. If we can ease it simply by telling him what we know, then that may be enough.”
Mrs Hardcastle nodded slowly, her face now a little white. “I can describe the gentleman to him.”
“Yes,” Christiana agreed quickly. “Yes, you should do that. I am quite sure Thayne will want to know as much as he can before making any sort of decision.” Recalling something else Mrs Hardcastle had said, Christiana let a frown tug at her brows, sitting back in her chair and attempting to let the tension she had felt run from her body.
Mrs Hardcastle rose from her chair and began to bustle about the small kitchen. “Let me make us some tea,” she said with a quick smile in Christiana’s direction. “I think we could both do with some, don’t you?”
“Did you say, Mrs Hardcastle, that I look a little like his late wife?” Christiana asked slowly, her stomach twisting itself in knots as she waited for the answer.
“Yes, I did,” Mrs Hardcastle agreed, sounding quite matter of fact. “Although I would not say in your character, however, more in your appearance.”
Something stabbed Christiana, hard. “I look like her?” she asked softly.
There was nothing but the sound of clinking teaspoons against china for a moment as Mrs Hardcastle brought over a tray for them both to share, setting it down on a small table to Christiana’s left.
“It is your eyes, I think,” Mrs Hardcastle replied softly. “She had the brightest blue eyes I think I have ever seen—although I only saw her once or twice. That was what always struck me about her. That being said, she was a timid and quiet little thing, and that is where the similarities end.”
Christiana took in this information for a moment or two, trying not to wonder whether or not Thayne had asked for her hand in marriage simply because of how much she might remind him of his late wife.
“That is not something you need to go worrying about, though,” Mrs Hardcastle stated with a slight edge to her words. “I can see you now, getting all concerned over the fact that Thayne might only be thinking of you because of her. That can’t be the case, I’m certain of it. He’s a good-hearted gentleman, and the fact that he’s taken an interest in you is, to my mind, quite wonderful. By all accounts, he’s been a little lost these last few years.”
“Lost?” Christiana repeated, a little confused.
Mrs Hardcastle smiled sadly. “Oh, he has his duties and all—working for the Crown, I believe, back in London on occasion—whilst tending to his own estate, but there’s been nothing but sadness in him since that day he found her. He’s a different man from the one I saw last time he came by. I think that says a lot, Lady Christiana, don’t you?”
Christiana managed to smile back with an effort, turning her attention to pouring the tea. Thankfully, Mrs Hardcastle managed to change the subject to something else entirely, letting her free from the task of talking all the more about Thayne.
And yet, as she sipped her tea and told Mrs Hardcastle a little bit more about her life, Christiana could not stop herself from thinking of Thayne Thayne. Was it, sh
e wondered, her resemblance to his wife that had him so willing to help her? Or was it, as Mrs Hardcastle thought, something altogether different?
SEVEN
“My lady!”
The jolt of happiness that ran through him upon seeing Lady Christiana again surprised Thayne entirely, although he refused to allow himself to linger on such a feeling. He had not seen the lady for two days now but had, after some convincing in his own mind, chosen to go back to Hardcastle House to talk to her again. It was not because he regretted in any way offering her a marriage proposal, but more that he could not quite work out what it was that was beginning to seep into his own heart. After all, he had not known the lady for long and yet had discovered his thoughts centring on her whenever they could.
Lady Christiana turned towards him, and he took her in, marvelling at her beauty. She was wrapped up warmly for what was a fresh if not rather chilly day, and the brightness of her cheeks and the delight in her eyes spread a warmth all through his own heart.
“Good morning, Thayne,” Lady Christiana said, coming towards him, her feet crunching across the still frozen grass. “You are here rather early.”
He nodded. “I am. I thought to come and speak to you again, given that I did not manage to impart what I have learned about Lord Archibald the last time we spoke.”
The colour in her cheeks darkened, but she did not look away.
“I am glad to see you again, Thayne,” she said softly, her eyes searching his as she spoke as though she were looking for an answer to an unasked question. “I have something that I think you need to hear.”
He frowned. “Oh?”
“It may be nothing of importance,” Lady Christiana said quickly, putting one gloved hand on his arm. “It is only that I was talking to Mrs Hardcastle about Christmas and just how difficult a time it must be for you—only for her to mention a gentleman who had come to stay for only a night some years ago.”
Everything in him went still.
“It was the same year as your wife’s death,” Lady Christiana continued, her voice dropping low. “I do not want to bring you any pain, Thayne, especially after what you have done for me, but I thought it too significant to ignore. I am aware that your estate is some distance away from here, but Mrs Hardcastle stated that the gentleman had appeared rather out of breath and that he had been riding for most of the morning. He did not stay long but left the following morning. A carriage arrived for him, l believe.”