Chapter 26

Agnes went to bed thinking, her mind restless with the complexities of her marriage, and she woke up in the same state the following morning. Every time she thought she was making some progress with Theodore, something appeared to drag her a step back.

The subject of his mother last night had piqued her curiosity, and she regretted perhaps being too overt in her interest. Had she been more subtle, maybe he wouldn't have felt the need to abruptly leave the room. She wished more than anything that he could trust her at least and open up a bit about his life and his family. The emotional distance felt like a chasm she couldn't bridge.

"Will that be all, My Lady?" Evans asked after adding the finishing touches to her attire for the day. Agnes was dressed impeccably, a habit she maintained regardless of the private turmoil of her domestic life.

Things may not be working out as she had hoped, but she refused to give up. She was determined to make this marriage work, to somehow pull Theodore closer to her.

"That will be all, Evans. Thank you," Agnes said, dismissing her maid with a small smile before making her way to the morning room for breakfast.

She wasn't expecting her husband's company this morning; their interactions had become predictably sparse. And, as anticipated, she ate her breakfast alone. As she sipped her tea, her eyes caught the lacquer worn out on some parts of the breakfast table. This sight served as a reminder of the state of other rooms in the house. The estate, much like her marital relationship, seemed in need of careful restoration and perhaps a touch of tenderness.

There was only one conclusion to everything she'd noticed thus far: her husband was going through a financial crisis. That would explain his desperation over the deal with Asmont. If only he would trust her enough to share his problems with her, she thought, unable to help the melancholy which came over her at this realization.

She was in her office after breakfast when Mrs. Davis joined her. They were to go through some household accounts together, a task that Agnes was beginning to appreciate more given her suspicions.

And again, Agnes couldn't help but notice how prudent the housekeeper was with the numbers. She judiciously calculated and budgeted everything, exactly as needed, her efficiency apparent in every line of the ledger.

"Mrs. Davis," Agnes began, unable to keep her silence on the issue any longer as they reviewed another column of figures. The housekeeper looked up, her expression composed, silently waiting for her to continue.

"What's the state of the household finances?" Agnes asked at last, her voice steady but her hands slightly tense around the edges of her paperwork.

Mrs. Davis was thoughtfully quiet for a bit before she replied, "Not in the best state, I'm afraid, My Lady. The Marquess is doing his best, but unfortunate events that happened in the past are working against his progress."

She elaborated no further, and Agnes contemplated the wisdom in asking about these unfortunate events of the past but thought the better of it despite her curiosity. Instead, she nodded slowly.

If anyone owed her those details, it was her husband, and not the housekeeper. Nevertheless, Agnes chose a practical approach. "Is there anything required on my part to help?" she asked instead, maintaining her composure and focusing on the immediate needs of the household.

Mrs. Davis smiled. Or rather, something akin to a smile graced her usually stoic features, softening them momentarily. "So long as your ladyship is comfortable with the expenses, I think everything is in order," the older woman replied professionally. "Or is there anything you wish to add perhaps?" She suggested, always meticulous in ensuring all aspects were covered.

"Oh no," Agnes replied, shaking her head slightly. "I am quite alright with it all." She wanted to maintain the status quo, at least until she could speak with Theodore directly about their financial situation.

"Very well," Mrs. Davis responded, her tone indicating the matter was settled for now. She gathered the account books neatly into her arms. "I shall have a meeting with the cook on our decisions and get back to you, My Lady," she said, offering a final nod of acknowledgment before exiting the office.

No sooner had Mrs. Davis left than another knock came on her office door. Quentin walked in, a bundle of correspondence in hand, his demeanor indicating the usual mix of news from the outside world.

There were letters from her family, her dear friends Emma and Frances. She opened her family's first:

Dearest Agnes,

Philip here. How are you, dear sister? We all miss you terribly and eagerly await news of your adventures in your new life. Mother talks about you every day at breakfast and dinner, and Father has taken to planning for us to spend some time with you in the country.

This is Harry. Since your invitation, we are plotting a small invasion of your peaceful existence; expect us soon, armed with stories and perhaps a few surprise treats from home. We hope you are keeping well and promise not to overwhelm Lord Gillingham with too many questions.

And this is George. Agnes, I have new friends, but alas, I cannot bring them with me. Lord Gillingham told me he has a well-stocked pond there. I would so like to go fishing with him!

With much love and anticipation,

Your brothers

Agnes felt a surge of warmth reading their words. She opened Emma"s and Frances' letters next.

My Dearest Aggie,

I trust this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I cannot help but feel the distance between us more acutely with each passing day—but do not mind me, for I am too melodramatic for my own good! How is life treating you in your new abode? I often find myself wondering how you are.

I wanted to share some news from here; the town has been lively with speculation since your wedding, and they appear to be keeping a keen eye on you in Essex. The vultures! Oh, Frances shall be hosting a ball. It has managed to distract the ton—being that this is her first ball as the Duchess of Preston, but it is not enough. I am sure she will write to you about it. I wish you could attend.

Do enjoy every moment with your husband, and do not forget to fall in love. I have lost hope in myself, but not in you, Aggie. Please write soon and tell me everything about your life now—every little detail counts!

With all my love,

Emma

Dearest Aggie,

I hope this note finds you well. I often forget that I must sound like a duchess in my letters, even those to my dearest friends. Holding titles is quite the task, is it not, my dear Marchioness?

With the season advancing, I have decided to bring a bit of excitement into our social life by hosting a ball in London. I would be absolutely delighted if you and Theodore could attend. It will be held in a fortnight, under the theme of a Midsummer Night's Dream. I believe it will be a splendid occasion for you to put society to shame! I know you and Lord Gillingham are wondrously in love, and I want you to show it to the realm.

I eagerly await your reply. If you dare decline my invitation, Preston and I shall come fetch you ourselves!

With immeasurable love,

Frannie

"Oh!" Agnes held the letters to her chest, smiling, her eyes misted. The thought of a social gathering also excited her. She had to convince Theodore of what a splendid notion this was!

Her spirits brightened, Agnes suddenly felt the urge to explore more of the manor's grounds. Deciding on a more active pursuit, she eventually went to the stables and had a horse prepared for her. Riding seemed the perfect way to see more of the extensive property, a thought that filled her with a refreshing sense of freedom.

And somewhat mindlessly, drawn by the allure of the familiar yet mysterious, she rode out to the ruins—a place steeped in the history of the estate. To her surprise, she noticed Theodore"s horse secured to a stump. Was he here? She wondered, a little bubble of anticipation welling up within her.

She found another stump nearby and secured her own mount before venturing inside the ruins.

Agnes found him in the same room they'd been in before. Theodore was lying on the only chaise in the room, deeply engrossed in a book. The sight of him so relaxed and absorbed in his reading brought a smile to her face.

"Why, aren't we comfortable in here," she chuckled, her voice light and teasing.

He seemed most at peace right now, a rare sight that oddly warmed her heart. A smile graced his face when he looked up, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"I knew you'd find me here," he said, closing the book with a soft thud.

"Was I supposed to find you here?" She chuckled, stepping closer, intrigued by his statement.

"Why else would I have left the trail?" he returned, his tone playful, hinting at a deliberate intention behind his choice of location.

"You call that a trail?" she teased. "I was expecting pretty petals and not the dead leaves and grass I found," she made a show of being disappointed now, sweeping her hand dramatically to indicate the lack of floral adornment.

"Next time, I shall coat the ground in diamonds and rubies for you, My Lady," he laughed, playing along with her jest.

"I expect nothing less," she jutted her chin out in exaggerated satisfaction, then joined him in laughter, the sound echoing softly in the old room.

When their mirth died down, Theodore's demeanor suddenly grew grave. He shifted slightly, looking into her eyes with an earnestness that marked a shift in the conversation.

"I should apologize for my behavior last night, Agnes," he began ruefully, his voice tinged with regret.

"It's nothing," she quickly dismissed, not wanting to dwell on past discomforts.

And in an effort to ease the somber atmosphere that had begun to settle between them, she said, "You apologize so often I should start collecting your apologies in a jar, Theodore."

"Would you like this jar adorned with diamonds and rubies as well?" He teased back, a twinkle returning to his eyes.

And they had another good laugh, the room once again filled with the sound of their shared amusement. Then he suddenly gained his feet and offered her his hand, pulling her up to stand beside him.

"Take a walk with me through the Gillingham history?" He asked, extending an invitation to not just walk through the physical grounds but perhaps through the stories and memories that made up his heritage.

"Why of course," she responded, placing her hand in his.

As they strolled through the castle ruins, Theodore began to recount tales of his family history, his voice echoing slightly off the ancient stones. They wandered through what was once a grand hall, now open to the sky, its walls covered in ivy.

"My great-grandfather kept nineteen hounds here," Theodore said, gesturing towards a collapsed structure that once served as the kennels. "He was quite the enthusiast. Said he couldn"t trust a man who didn"t love dogs as much as he did."

Agnes chuckled at the thought, imagining the bustling scene of dogs and their handlers filling the space with noise and energy.

They continued on, coming upon a section of the castle that was markedly different in architecture, featuring finer stones and remnants of intricate mosaics. "Over here," Theodore led her to what looked like it could have been a bathhouse. "One of the marchionesses was particularly fond of ancient baths. She had this part of the castle turned into an exotic bath, modeled after those she saw in her travels to Rome and Constantinople."

Agnes traced her fingers over the cool, smooth tiles that still clung to the walls. "It must have been beautiful," she murmured, trying to picture the steam rising from warm waters surrounded by opulent decor.

"Yes, it was, according to the paintings we saved," he replied. Then his tone shifted slightly as they walked towards another part of the ruins. "The fire that ruined the castle happened during my grandfather"s time. It was a devastating blow. After that, the family moved permanently to Gillingham Manor."

The air grew heavier as they approached an area where the blackened stones marked the ferocity of the fire. Agnes felt a pang of sorrow for the loss that still seemed to linger like a shadow over the place.

And even now, as they walked, Theodore curiously refrained from mentioning his parents in any way. Agnes wondered if it was a coincidence, or a conscious effort to avoid more painful memories. Whatever it was, she decided it best not to dwell on her suspicions right now and taint this beautiful moment. The reason did not matter. Not right now.

They finished their little tour at the top of one of the towers, which afforded them a magnificent view of the village, the manor, and the rolling hills beyond. The beauty of the scene was breathtaking, and Agnes felt a profound sense of peace mixed with a hint of melancholy.

"If only this place could be restored," she heard herself voice the thought before she could rein it in, her eyes scanning the potential of the ruins around them.

"If only..." her husband echoed beside her, his voice distant. He appeared lost in his own thoughts as he stared into the distance, perhaps considering the same possibilities or burdened by the weight of what restoration would entail.

And now more than ever, Agnes wished she could alleviate his woes. Alas, there was only so much she could do to open a locked door whose key was hidden.