Chapter 20

Agnes ascended the stairs to her bedchamber with a noticeable sense of optimism following her conversation with Theodore.

"Oh, I was worried when I saw the storm and you were out, your grace," Evans expressed her concern the moment Agnes entered the room. The lady's maid was already busy at work, laying out an elegant ensemble for dinner.

Agnes, still feeling the thrill of her earlier conversation with Theodore, found herself suddenly eager to dress up for the evening. After finally persuading her husband to dine with her as a gesture of maintaining appearances, she felt an uncharacteristic desire to impress him.

"I should like to wear the sapphire necklace, Evans," Agnes declared, deciding on a whim to add a touch of splendor to her attire. She reassured her worried maid, "I'm quite all right, Evans. I was with my husband; he took good care of me."

"Oh, I think that is a brilliant thought, your grace," Evans responded, her eyes sparkling with approval. The maid's enthusiasm for fashion and adornment was evident, and she relished any opportunity to dress Agnes in the manor's finest pieces.

"Oh, I am quite lucky. Your grace is like my very own doll," Evans added playfully, echoing Agnes's thoughts with a light-hearted comment that brought a smile to both their faces.

Agnes chuckled, watching Evans retrieve the jewelry box with palpable excitement. It was a small joy to see her maid so animated, and it lifted Agnes's spirits further, fueling her anticipation for the evening. Tonight, she would not only present herself as the dignified Marchioness of Gillingham but perhaps also remind her husband of the woman he had married, beyond the convenience of their arrangement. The thought of it made her heart flutter with a mix of nerves and excitement.

Whatever enthusiasm Agnes had was swiftly diminished when she descended to the drawing room only to be greeted by Quentin bearing a note. The moment the butler handed it to her, a familiar dread washed over her. He was doing it again—Theodore wasn't joining her for dinner. At least this time he had extended the courtesy of sending a note.

Did he perhaps find their marriage suffocating? Agnes wondered silently. Was it she who was suffocating him? The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the note.

Without opening it, she turned to return to her bedchamber, her disappointment evident in her slumped shoulders.

"My Lady?" Quentin"s voice halted her retreat. He cleared his throat gently, nodding toward the still-sealed note in her hand.

Caught by his expectant look, curiosity overcame her resignation. Agnes broke the seal and unfolded the paper. To her surprise, the note did not contain the expected apologies for his absence at dinner. Instead, Theodore had written that they were to dine outside the manor—in the greenhouse.

A surge of excitement replaced her previous disappointment as she hastened her steps toward the greenhouse. The evening air was cool and fresh, carrying with it the promise of something new, something better. As she pushed open the door to the greenhouse, the sight that greeted her caused her heart to skip a beat.

Theodore stood beside a beautifully laid table, under the soft glow of candlelight. He was dressed in a dark blue coat that accentuated the strong lines of his figure, making him appear every bit the distinguished gentleman he was. The candlelight played across his features, casting him in an almost ethereal light.

"I was starting to think I'd be having just the plants for company tonight," Theodore quipped, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he welcomed her into the makeshift dining area.

"I honor my invitations," Agnes replied with a light touch of humor as Theodore gracefully pulled out a chair for her at the elegantly set table amidst the vibrant greenhouse.

The space around them was a lush tapestry of blooms, each petal and leaf appearing as if painted with the utmost care. It contrasted starkly with the gardens outside, which, though meticulously maintained, lacked the vivacious color of this hidden oasis. The disparity was just another puzzle in a manor filled with inconsistencies that perpetually set Agnes on edge.

"Now, I'm not sure if I should consider myself lucky as a result…" Theodore commented, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he took his seat across from her.

"Why do you make my company sound so ominous?" Agnes responded with a nervous chuckle, hoping to mask her unease with levity.

"Perhaps because it is," he shrugged nonchalantly, his voice light but his words heavy with an unspoken jest.

"What is that supposed to mean, Theodore?" Agnes couldn"t help but feel a prick of apprehension, her eyes narrowing slightly as she searched his face for clues.

His response was to laugh—a rich, full-hearted sound that unexpectedly thawed the chill she hadn"t realized had settled around her heart. For a moment, the weight of their unconventional marriage seemed to lift, and she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his amusement.

She wished earnestly that their interactions could always hold such ease. She wished it could be like this forever—light, unburdened, genuine. The thought sparked a daring hope within her. Could she perhaps make their marriage work? Maybe it wasn't as impossible as she had once believed.

A voice in the back of her mind warned her about the danger of such hopeful thoughts, cautioning her against the potential heartache of expectations unmet.

Not right now. This was the first time she was enjoying her husband"s company like this since their marriage. Agnes was determined not to let her doubts suffocate the budding friendship she and Theodore were cultivating.

"Suffice it to say you surpass most of society's company," Theodore responded, serving them both. Agnes appreciated the absence of footmen; the privacy made the evening feel even more special.

"What a twisted compliment," she grumbled, though the corners of her mouth turned up in amusement. He laughed again, the sound making her heart flutter unexpectedly.

"Do you make it a habit?" Agnes suddenly asked after a sip of her wine.

"What?" He looked up from the mutton he was expertly carving.

"Dining outside," she clarified.

A flicker of something inscrutable crossed his features, and he was silent for a moment before answering, "Well, there's a first time for everything, is there not?"

"A first time dining out," Agnes said, her voice trailing off as she pondered the layers she was only just beginning to uncover in her husband.

"A first time dining out in the greenhouse, yes," he affirmed, giving her a direct look that challenged her to inquire further.

"Oh, so you do dine outside," she remarked, seizing the opportunity to delve deeper into his life—a life about which he seldom spoke.

"Is it a family tradition, perhaps?" She ventured, curious about the customs that might have shaped him.

"Family traditions are outdated practices, don't you agree?" He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "I'm a man who moves with modern times, Agnes," he added, his voice carrying a hint of pride.

This was not the answer she sought, Agnes realized with a hint of frustration. Theodore had skillfully turned the conversation to himself, dodging inquiries about his family heritage.

"Well, perhaps Harriet would be more interested in upholding the traditions," Agnes ventured again, determined not to be swayed by his deft deflections.

His eyes narrowed briefly, a flash of something unreadable before he responded. "The only traditions Harriet upholds are those to do with her wardrobe," he said, his voice light, almost teasing.

Agnes took a deliberate bite of her mutton, contemplating her next move. He was proving to be a formidable opponent in conversation, evasive and charming all at once.

"The girls must miss their mother," she ventured, touching upon a more sensitive topic.

"Oh, that is the order of nature. To miss one's departed loved ones," he replied with a nod, scooping up more potatoes. His tone was casual, but his face remained a mask of congeniality that didn"t quite reach his eyes.

"Do you?" Agnes pressed, watching him closely.

Theodore paused, his fork midway to his plate, and met her gaze. After a moment, he responded cryptically, "The years just keep passing us by, do they not?"

His answer was evasive, almost philosophical, leaving Agnes more puzzled than before. It was clear there was a wall around him—a well-guarded fortress where his emotions and past were closely shielded.

But Agnes felt a stirring, a desire not just to breach those defenses but to understand the man behind them. As his wife, wasn"t it her right to share more than just his name and home? Wasn"t it her duty to know the heartaches that had shaped him, to share the burdens he carried alone?

"Theodore," she began, her voice soft yet firm, "sharing a bit more about your life, about what shapes you... isn"t that part of being married?"

Theodore looked at her, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his face, highlighting the stark seriousness in his green eyes. Agnes waited, hoping her words had reached him, hoping that tonight, they might start to bridge the gap that his secrecy had placed between them.

"I think George would find some rather interesting friends in this greenhouse," Theodore commented, his gaze leisurely scanning the lush interior. Each word seemed measured, calculated, leaving Agnes little room but to engage on the new topic.

"Oh, most definitely," Agnes responded, her mind briefly flickering to her younger brother"s fascination with all manner of creatures. The mention of her family momentarily softened the longing she felt whenever she thought of them, and she momentarily overlooked the fact that Theodore had deftly steered the conversation away from his own familial ties.

"This place is bound to be a critter haven for him," she added, her voice tinged with amusement as she imagined her brother"s delight in such a setting.

The thought lingered, and Agnes saw an opening to delve into another subject that had been on her mind. "Do you think it would be good for the boys to spend some time here with us?"

"Oh, most definitely," Theodore echoed her earlier sentiment. "I think they would add much-needed life to the household."

"You mean keep Quentin and Mrs. Davis busier?" Agnes teased, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Theodore"s laughter joined hers, a sound that warmed her more than she expected. As their laughter faded, Agnes decided it was the perfect moment to transition to a question that had been gnawing at her since her arrival.

"Theodore?" she ventured, her tone slightly more serious as she caught his attention.

He looked up, his expression open and expectant.

"Why are the servants shared between the properties?" she asked, the question slipping out more smoothly than she had anticipated. It was something that puzzled her deeply, the unusual arrangement unlike anything she had known in her own family.

"Would you like some more mutton?" Her husband asked, breaking the tense silence that had settled between them. His tone was polite, yet there was a finality in his voice that suggested he was eager to steer the conversation away from personal matters.

Agnes paused, noticing the deliberate shift in his demeanor. His eyes, usually so expressive, now mirrored the resolute tone of his voice, closing off any further inquiry she might have considered. At that moment, she was more confused and dubious than ever. Her initial suspicions about Theodore hiding aspects of his family and past had solidified into certainty.