Chapter Thirty-Two
“It’s lovely for all of us to be together again,” Emma said, beaming.
It was five days later, and the Kent clan had come together to celebrate Thea’s upcoming nuptials. Everyone was present: Marianne and Ambrose with their children, Rosie and Edward, all of the Kent sisters, and even their younger brother Harry. They occupied an entire corner of Gunter’s Tea Shop in Berkeley Square, the waiters pulling together three tables to fit them all.
Being with her family was a balm to Thea’s spirits and just what she needed. Since her and Gabriel’s argument over Sylvia, things between them had remained at a cool impasse. Gabriel seemed to have retreated further behind invisible walls, beyond her reach. Frustration and despair simmered inside her, but she didn’t know what to do about it.
“Penny for your thoughts, sis.”
Tucking away her ruminations, she managed to smile at Harry, who’d returned yesterday from Cambridge. He’d become a grown man, she saw with sisterly affection, and a handsome one at that. His rawboned frame had filled out, his height now balanced with sleek muscle. With his dark curling hair and spectacles, he had a scholar’s earnest charm; combined with his athletic physique, he was sure to attract the attention of young ladies everywhere.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Harry,” Thea said tremulously. “I’ve missed you.”
“I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world,” he said.
“You’ve grown, lad,” Ambrose remarked. “Added at least another two stone since we’ve seen you last. I presume you’re not holed up in the laboratory the entire time?”
“In between blowing things up or setting them on fire, the fellows and I find time to get in the ring,” Harry said with a raffish grin.
“I bet I could still take you in a race,” Violet said from beside him.
Harry and Vi had always been close, their bond taking the form of spirited sibling rivalry.
“You’re a lady now, Vi. I don’t race ladies. After all,” Harry said, “where would the sport be in beating a female? Not gentlemanly by far.”
Thea wasn’t fooled by his bland tone. He was deliberately baiting Vi… who, of course, fell for it with her usual aplomb.
“You couldn’t beat me with a stick.” Her caramel-colored eyes narrowed. “The day I can’t outrun, outclimb, or outride you, I’ll… I’ll eat my corset.”
“Careful not to choke on the bones,” Harry said.
“Let’s do it then. Right now. Out in the square, we’ll—”
“Before you challenge our brother to games worthy of the ancient Greeks,” Emma put in, “perhaps you’d care to recall that we’re here to celebrate Thea’s upcoming marriage? Bloodshed is no way to mark the occasion.”
“Actually,” Polly said, her aquamarine eyes serious, “I’ve read that certain ancient tribes performed blood sacrifices as part of the wedding ritual. It’s supposed to guarantee fertility.”
Thea’s cheeks heated. “Goodness, Polly, where did you read that?”
“In one of Papa’s books on the history of civilization,” her youngest sister said.
“It’s best not to volunteer such information in polite company, dear,” Em said.
Polly bit her lip. “People will think I’m peculiar, won’t they?”
Back in Chudleigh Crest, Polly had had a reputation for being different due to a certain acuity she possessed that went beyond her tender years. Knowing how much her shy sister feared being an outcast, Thea said gently, “I wouldn’t say peculiar exactly. But people might be taken aback by your unusual fount of knowledge.”
“Pish posh to what others think.” This came from Rosie, who patted Polly’s hand. “I, for one, would much rather be an Original than some milk-fed debutante.”
“That bodes well for your come out,” her mama said dryly.
The waiter arrived with plates of Gunter’s famous confectionaries. The family exclaimed over the luscious treats: small cakes iced with marzipan and fresh cream, jellied fruits, and cookies decorated with violets made of sugar. This was accompanied by strong, steaming tea, and they all dug in with customary gusto.
As Thea nibbled on a bit of cake soaked in elderflower syrup, she reflected on how things had changed. There was a time when the family could scarcely afford bread and cheese never mind a luxury such as Gunter’s. The ritual of eating and talking together, however, felt exactly the same. She experienced a sudden, bittersweet pang; soon she’d not be a Kent in name any longer.
Morosely, she wondered if she and Gabriel would ever achieve this level of ease and comfort with one another. The distance between them was ever widening, and, since their argument, he’d made no physical advances upon her. She, already feeling at a disadvantage in the relationship, wasn’t about to make any on him. She now realized how much she’d come to depend upon their lovemaking to feel the connection between them.
“Things are coming along nicely with the wedding plans,” Marianne commented.
If only the same could be said of the relationship between the bride and groom.
Pushing aside her worries, Thea said, “Thanks to you. If it weren’t for you, Madame Rousseau would never have made my wedding dress on rush order.”
“Marianne has a knack for wedding planning.” For some reason, Ambrose’s eyes gleamed with humor as at he looked at his wife.
“We all have our talents,” Marianne said demurely, “and I think our rose garden will make the perfect spot for the wedding brunch. It was your father’s favorite place.”
Thea remembered how much Papa had loved having his tea outside, surrounded by the bright blooms and humming insects. She knew she would feel his presence when her special day came. Her throat thickened.
Please watch over me and Gabriel, Papa. Please don’t let us make a terrible mistake.
“Since Marianne has the wedding itself in hand,” Emma put in, “Strathaven and I wanted to contribute something different. We thought you might enjoy a stay at our hunting lodge in Scotland. It’s a beautiful and private place, perfect for a wedding trip. And as Freddy is doing so well, he could make the trip too.”
That had been the one bright spot in Thea’s week. Dr. Abernathy’s fasting and dietary protocol seemed to be working wonders. The physician had predicted that if there were to be positive results, they would be immediate. Like a miracle, Freddy hadn’t had a single spell since he’d begun treatment. Even Gabriel had evinced grudging surprise and guarded hope.
“Freddy could stay with us at Strathmore,” Emma went on. “It’s just an hour away from the lodge, so you can check in on him whenever you’d like.”
“May I come too, Aunt Emma?” A dab of cream clung to Edward’s upper lip. “I could keep Freddy company. We’ll be cousins, after all.”
As expected, he and Freddy had become fast friends. In fact, they were so inseparable that Violet had nicknamed the pair “Fredward.”
Marianne motioned at her lip, and Edward hastily wiped his mouth.
“Of course you may,” Emma said, “if your parents agree.”
“As lovely as it sounds, a trip to Scotland will have to wait,” Thea said. “Tremont wants to return to Hampshire once the business in London is complete.”
“After all the man’s been through lately, I can’t blame him. I’m sure all he wants is to settle in with his new bride,” Ambrose said. “To enjoy some much deserved peace and domesticity.”
To her horror, Thea felt her smile wobble.
Her brother frowned, his gaze darting swiftly to Marianne. Time and again, Thea had seen the pair engage in such wordless communication, as if they could read each other’s thoughts.
What if Gabriel and I never achieve such intimacy? Or any intimacy at all?
“Ambrose, darling, why don’t you take everyone outside for a stroll in the square?” Marianne said. “Emma, Thea, and I have wedding matters to discuss.”
Ambrose put down his napkin. “Capital idea, my love. Come along, everyone.”
The younger Kents tromped out after him, leaving Thea with Marianne and Emma.
Without preamble, Marianne said, “How are you, dear?”
To Thea’s dismay, heat pushed behind her eyes. “Why do you ask?” she said, fumbling for her reticule.
Emma passed her handkerchief. “Because you’ve looked on the edge of tears all week. Having a case of the bridal jitters, dear?”
Knowing that her feelings had been visible to all made her feel even more wretched.
“I don’t know if it’s jitters or not,” she said, her voice hitching. “But Tremont and I—we had an argument. And I don’t know… I don’t know if he’ll ever love me.”
With that, she burst into tears.
Emma rubbed her back. “There, there now. Let it all out. We’re here to listen.”
In between halting breaths, Thea shared the marriage pact she’d made with Gabriel. She had to edit out the intimate details, of course, but she disclosed that she’d let words of love slip out and his reaction to them. She spoke of his increasing coldness, their recent disagreement.
“The gist of it is, I thought he was falling in love with me and just couldn’t say the words,” she concluded, sniffling. “I thought because he’d been a spy, he’d learned to block out his emotions to survive, and I believed it was just a matter of unlearning the tendency. I thought if we had honesty and trust, he’d come to love me eventually. But now I’m wondering if all of that was wishful thinking on my part.”
“His reaction to your declaration of love was rather Siberian,” Marianne said.
“I know.” Her despair grew.
“But perhaps that’s not the only explanation for his recent behavior,” her sister-in-law went on. “Perhaps it’s not your love that he’s reacting so badly to. Or not entirely that, anyway.”
“What else could it be?” she said miserably.
Marianne’s expression was pensive. “Ambrose mentioned that Tremont was quite forceful in the way he took Heath down. As if he were possessed by some inner demons. Ambrose said he had to stop Tremont from killing the man and that, afterward, Tremont seemed shaken and withdrawn. Not at all himself.”
Gabriel’s words echoed in Thea’s head. I wanted to put espionage behind me, to never spill another’s blood again. Understanding began to spread like sensation returning to a limb that had fallen asleep.
With prickling awareness, she said, “What he was forced to do during the war eats at him. He may seem stoic, but guilt festers inside him. To come face to face with that time in his life, to re-experience that betrayal and horror…”
Dear God, is this why he’s been so distant? So cold?
Marianne gave her an intent look. “Be that as it may, your brother wanted to make sure that you are safe.”
“Safe?” Thea said, blinking.
Marianne gave a firm nod. “In a physical sense.”
“Tremont would never hurt me physically. If anything, he’s overprotective.” Thea pursed her lips. “Emotionally, however, he may drive me mad. He hasn’t spoken a word about his capture of Heath. I’ve tried to ask him what the matter was, but all he’ll say is that he’s fine.”
Emma snorted. “If I had a penny for every time I heard that from His Grace, I’d be richer than Croesus.”
“What you’ve told me explains so much, Marianne.” A wave of hope surged through Thea as she saw the situation through a new lens. “If only Tremont had talked to me. If I had known, I wouldn’t have pushed… wouldn’t have gotten so frustrated. Perhaps we wouldn’t have fought…”
“You mustn’t take the blame, dear,” Em said crisply. “You can’t read his mind.”
That was true. Thea gnawed on her lower lip. “I just wish I hadn’t brought up his wife. That wasn’t well done of me at all.”
“Are you having second thoughts, dear?” Marianne said quietly. “Because if you are, we will support—”
“No.” Thea’s feelings suddenly clarified. Things between her and Gabriel were far from perfect, but as long as the possibility of love remained, there was hope. “I want to marry Tremont. I love him.”
“And if he’s not able to give you his love in return?” Em said. “What then?”
The truth blazed.
“That’s the risk I’ll have to take,” she said.
It was called falling in love for a reason, she realized. There was no guarantee of safety. One could gaze out longingly from one’s window in a tower… or take the jump.