by Geneva Lee
“It takes a long time to adjust,” Clara told me. “You think that being a mother just comes naturally. Some of it does. The love. It deepened my relationship with Alexander. But that doesn’t mean it’s been easy. It’s hard when you need a good night’s sleep or the baby is having a fussy day or cutting teeth.”
“How do you handle the rough days?”
“I remind myself that tomorrow is just as likely to be a good day as a bad one,” she said. “And then I forgive myself for not always being a saint.”
“You aren’t a saint?” I asked like I sincerely doubted this.
“Trust me,” she laughed. “I’m far from a saint. There are days when I don’t want to do any of it. I just want to hide in the bedroom and pull the covers over my head. I probably could. Alexander has half of the Army around at any given time, some of them have to know how to change nappies.”
“But you don’t,” I guessed.
“I take an extra five minutes,” she said softly. “And then I get up and do my best to find as much joy as I can in that day. Sometimes it’s only a single moment and the rest of it sucks, but that one moment…“
“Makes up for all of it,” I added softly. I knew exactly what she meant. For every time I’d been unable to soothe Penny, there’d been a moment of looking down and seeing how much she looked like Smith from a certain angle or watching her smile in her dreams.
“That’s why it’s so important to have Alexander around,” she confided in me. “Every time I see him with one of our children, I fall a little more in love with him.”
A dozen images of Smith cradling Penny and rocking her to sleep rushed to mind. It was an amazing gift to see the man I loved with our child. “Sometimes I miss it just being the two of us.”
“Of course you do,” Clara said, not at all offended by my confession. “It was certainly easier to sneak off to shag. But don’t forget there were plenty of things dividing your attention before. The thing about having children is that it makes you realize your priorities. They come first, when it used to be your love.”
“I know. I just worry that Smith and I will grow apart.” In truth, I was worried we’d be torn apart. Every day seemed to bring a new test, and with taking care of Penny, that left little time for us to find to devote to one another.
“The secret is that loving your children is part of your marriage. Also, they don’t stay little forever. You should see Elizabeth. I’m going to blink and she’ll be off to university.”
“Don’t say that,” I cried, wishing she’d brought her along, too. “I’m not ready.”
“See? That’s how you know you’re doing just fine. The thought of the day where your house is empty again just makes you sad.”
“I wouldn’t mind a few more moments alone, though,” I whispered.
“Well, you don’t have to have sex in the bedroom,” she told me seriously.
I pressed my palm to my chest. “How shocking, Your Majesty!”
“There’s a lot of places to sneak away to at Buckingham.” She shrugged with an impish grin.
It was always so easy to talk to Clara. I just wished we weren’t so far apart everyday. “I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m going to mess this up. That I’m going to mess her up.”
“I saw you with Wills and Elizabeth. You’re natural at this, too. The stakes just feel a lot higher when it’s your own kid.”
“I hate to break up the reunion,” Georgia interrupted, striding over and waving her phone. “But it’s getting late. I don’t know what the roads will be like when we head out this evening, but we should probably get going.”
Clara’s hand closed over mine again as Georgia went to tell Edward. “You can call me anytime. You can tell me anything. I know that sometimes between sleep deprivation and teething and lack of sex it can feel like you’re going crazy. Just remember, I’m always here and I understand.”
I nodded, reaching over to give her a hug. I wish it was as simple as that. Maybe my trip to London was what I needed to clear my head. No more sleeping pills. Different medication. And a reminder of who I was what I wanted.
Yes, London’s always a good idea.
15
Smith
I found Rowan adding a new lock to the Bless office doors. He stepped back and appraised it. “Too much wind,” he told me. “It keeps gusting open. This should do the trick.”
“Thank you,” I said. I hadn’t sought him out because of work, but rather to dig up more information on the history of Thornham. “I was wondering if I could ask you another question about the Thornes.”
He shrugged, leaning to pick up the tools he used to add the lock. “I told you pretty much everything I know.”
“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you about.” I’d been thinking about Rowan’s information all afternoon. According to everyone in town, all of the Thornes disappeared. Even Longborn had seemed shaken when Miranda’s remains hadn’t been with the others. Despite the rumors that seemed to cling to her, it appeared that everyone assumed she was dead, too. In the way of country superstitions, people were just as likely to believe they were seeing a ghost as the woman herself. But if what Rowan said was true, they couldn’t have seen her at all. Miranda Thorne had been locked away in an insane asylum. That left me with one more question for Rowan. “How did you know that she’d been institutionalized?”
Rowan turned, but his beady eyes focused on something in the distance. “That’s not really my story to tell.”
“I just want to find her,” I told him. “Confirm that she’s been locked away. Some of the things that happened since we moved in can’t be explained.”
“I told you that’s always how it’s been at Thornham. Finding Miranda won’t help you with that,” he said in a gruff voice.
“But how did you know that she was alive and in an insane asylum?”
Rowan chewed on his cheek for a moment as if considering how much of the story to share before finally sighing heavily. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. Not with Seth dead.”
“Who Seth?” I asked, feeling confused.
“My brother. He worked here before me,” he reminded me.
I nodded, hoping he would continue.
“He was several years older than me. Twenty-three and with plenty of Scottish charm,” he told me with a wink.
“You can’t blame a Scottish man for that,” I agreed with him.
“You can’t. And you can’t blame a Scottish man for turning a woman’s head — even a married woman’s head.”
I was beginning to get a better picture of life in Thornham years ago.
“Miranda Thorne was a beautiful woman,” he continues. “By all accounts, she loved her husband desperately when they were first married. That’s how they wound up with so many bairns. But sometimes love doesn’t last forever.”
“True love does,” I said softly.
“I hope in your case you’re right,” he said with a shake of his head. “Maybe she still loved him. I don’t know much. They grew apart. By the time I came to work at the house, the marriage was all but over. Then one night, there was a big fight between Mr. Thorne and Mrs. Thorne. Everyone on the estate was talking about it for days. Mr. Thorne left the house, and Mrs. Thorne wouldn’t leave her room. The children were getting into all sorts of trouble, as children often do. Then little Caroline fell off the roof—I told you about that.”
I nodded. He’d also mentioned that some weren’t convinced it was an accident.
“When that happened, Mr. Thorne came back here quickly, and everything seemed to be fine—and then we showed up to work one morning and everyone was gone.”
“That’s when you called the police?”
“Not at first,” Rowan admitted. “Everyone sort of assumed they’d taken the children off for a holiday. But when they didn’t return that’s when the local authorities got involved.”
“They never found anything,” I told him. “Not until we dug up the cellar.”
“Then how do you know Miranda Thorne was in an insane asylum?”
“Seth told me,” he confessed. “He was the reason the Thorns had been fighting. Mr. Thorne had found out that Miranda had been seeing Seth. He caught them in the stables, actually.”
I looked up at the whitewashed stable, an acid taste in my mouth. I couldn’t imagine a future in which Belle would after cheat on me nor I on her. But I could imagine how infidelity could shake the core of a marriage. My first wife had been unfaithful to me a number of times. I’d done the same to her. I knew what it was like to love someone and then slowly lose all connection with them.
“She came to Seth and told him she was with child,” Rowan told me. “His child. She was raving. Said she wasn’t safe. The police were searching for her by then—searching for any Thorne they could find. He tried to hide her away at first, but then… Well, it became obvious to him that she needed more help than he could give her. He found a place in Brighton that would take her. That’s how she wound up institutionalized.”
“What happened to the baby?”
“What happens to babies born to institutionalized mothers? It was a long time ago,” Rowan said. “Things weren’t the same back then. I’m sure the baby found a home somewhere.”
“And Miranda? She’s still there?”
“As far as I know, she never left,” he said sadly.
I understood now why Rowan hadn’t been more forthcoming about his past with Thornham. His brother Seth had been intimately involved with the Thorne family. I also knew what it was like to want to leave the past behind only to have it rear its ugly head over and over. I thanked him and made my way back toward the house. I didn’t believe in ghosts, but I did believe that the past could come back to haunt you. The question was: whose past was haunting us now?
I sat in my study, staring out the window at the large oaks that towered behind the main house. Their branches reached out as if to offer me comfort, or, perhaps, refuge from Thornham itself. I had found the asylum in Brighton where Miranda Thorne must have been placed, using my mobile. I didn’t know what I would do with that information. What answers could I hope to find by seeking out a woman who’d been considered insane for decades? The more I learned about our house, the more I wondered if the country was the safe haven I’d hoped it would be.
The house was eerily silent. I sent Mrs. Winters off for the evening, determined to wait for Belle and the others for dinner. Penny had been napping happily in the nursery under Nora’s watchful eye through the afternoon. Georgia had texted when they left London, telling me they’d be home soon. It was time to tell Belle what I’d uncovered. Miranda Thorne may have been locked away, unable to hurt anyone else, but there was another Thorne in the world—one almost nobody knew about. I didn’t know whether to see that as conspiracy or coincidence, my own life too scrambled by the past for me to say either way. I leaned back in my chair, rolling my neck along its edge in a futile attempt to work out the perpetual tension locked there.
The soft footfall of approaching steps caught my attention. I stared out the window, watching the stars that punctuated the sky so brilliantly in the country. I promised to give her those, but what would it cost us?
“I don’t know what to do,” I confessed and I heard her stop. It would be easier like this. I had not wanted to keep what was going on from her. I didn’t want to keep anything from my wife, but her fragile mental state seemed to dictate it necessary. Now that I had answers, it was time to come clean. “I swore I would protect Penny, but I can’t help thinking that I’m failing her. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. There are things you should know. But I don’t know where to begin.”
I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger, feeling another headache coming on. She came behind the chair, her delicate hands reaching to knead my shoulders. “Do you think anyone ever escapes their past? I can’t help feeling like my sins have come to collect.”
I reached up, closing my hand over hers to draw her down, needing her skin on mine, craving the taste of her kiss.
“Is that a new perfume?” I asked, bringing her wrists to my lips and breathing in the scent of her. “I like it.”
I opened my eyes, starting to turn and take her in my arms when my gaze caught a reflection in the window. I dropped the hand of my mouth, spinning the chair around before jumping to my feet and taking a step back. Nora froze on the spot, her dark eyes round orbs against her pale skin.
“It’s okay,” she finally murmured, edging a bit closer. “You aren’t failing anyone, Smith. Penny couldn’t have a better father.”
“You should leave,” I growled in a low voice. Her perfume lingered in my nostrils, turning my stomach.
“I see you.” She shook her head, refusing to budge. “Belle might not see how hard you’re fighting—”
“Do not say her name.” It was all I could do to keep my fury under control. Georgia had warned me and I hadn’t listened.
“Smith,” she said softly, daring to move closer to me and reaching to place palm on my chest. “I can be —”
I shoved her hand away. “You need to leave.”
“If you would only—”
“Pack. Your. Bags!” I exploded.
She advanced again and grabbed a fistful of my sweater. “You’ve felt it, too! I’ve seen the way you look at me when she isn’t watching.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Belle’s voice sliced through the air.
Nora startled away from me, cringing into the shadows.
“Beautiful,” I called, but she had already fled. I turned on Nora, taking one menacing step in her direction. “Clear your room. I want you gone in the morning.”
“You don’t mean that.” She gasped. “Who will take care of Penny? You can’t trust her—”
“Get the fuck out of my house.” I didn’t wait for her response. I was already out the door, heading in the direction Belle had gone.
Edward stopped on the stairs, his arms full of shopping bags, and moved to the side when he saw me flying down them.
“Where did she go?” I barked as I passed him.
“She came in to find you as soon as we got home,” he answered in confusion. “What is going on?” I saw his eyes flicker up to where Nora had appeared at the top of the stairs.
I didn’t have time to explain to him. I needed to find Belle before she got too far. Georgia appeared, laden with so many purchases that she looked like a pack mule, as I reached the foyer. She dropped the items with a grunt, looking exhausted. Her eyes narrowed as soon as she saw me.
“Did she go this way?” I asked.
“Who? Belle?”
It was answer enough. I switched directions, heading to the back of the house and finding the door wide open.
“Belle!” I yelled into the night, but she didn’t respond. I hesitated only long enough to decide whether to go in the direction of the pond or her offices. She was angry—spitting with rage, I was sure—not sleepwalking, so I ran in the direction of the stables.
By the time I reached them, lights were flickering on in the space. I tried the door and found it locked. I banged on it with my fist. “Open the door, beautiful.”
I waited for a moment. When she didn’t answer, I pounded harder. The door finally flew open to reveal her standing, hands planted on her hips and eyebrows raised, waiting for her explanation.
“That wasn’t what it looked like.”
“It looks like our nanny was trying to fuck you,” she said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest with a look that dared me to contradict her.
I had better self-preservation instincts than that.
“And failing,” I said, tossing a grin at her. But her lips only flattened more. She wasn’t in the mood for jokes. I pushed past her, kicking the door closed behind me. There was only one way to solve this: I was going to have to prove it to her.
“What do I have to do?” I droppe
d to one knee at her feet, then the other. “Beg? Nothing happened and nothing ever will.”
“Nothing?” she pressed.
My jaw clenched and I took a deep breath. “She came in when my back was turned. I thought it was you.”
“What does that mean?” she asked in a strangled voice.
“She gave me a neck massage, and I...took her wrist and kissed it.” I could still taste Nora’s foreign scent on my tongue.
“You kissed her?” Belle whispered.
I opened my mouth to clarify once more, but somehow I knew it didn’t matter where I had kissed Nora. What mattered was that my lips had touched another woman.
Belle paced over to the desk and stood in silence for a moment before turning to me. “Do you remember when Philip came to see me outside your office in London?”
My eyes flashed, and I nodded. “He wanted you back.”
“I told him no, and he kissed me,” she recalled the story.
“I’d much rather forget that ever happened,” I admitted to her.
“I know,” she said in a lofty voice, bringing her cautious eyes to mine. “But that didn’t stop you from making me prove my loyalty when you found out.”
I lifted the hand that wore my wedding band. The one she had placed on my finger. “I am yours. Nothing changes that.”
“Prove it.” She issued the challenge with a grim smile.
“Anything,” I promised her.
She studied me for a moment before walking past me to the racks of clothing lining the far side of the office. She moved a few hangers, then reached to dig into the baskets of accessories below the clothes. Finally, she straightened triumphantly with a thin leather belt in her hands. Belle snapped her fingers and pointed to the ground below her feet. Then she said one word: “Crawl.”
It was more than a challenge, she was proving a point. Belle had rarely topped me in the bedroom unless I allowed it. After all, how could I not appreciate watching her bounce on my cock from time to time. That wasn’t what she wanted now. She wanted to remind me that for every moment of dominance I enjoyed it was due to her submission. She gave herself to me freely and with trust. She allowed me to claim her body according to my own dark whims, but she was always the one in true control. She alone held the power to grant her submission.