Chapter 32

"Oh, such talent!" Lady Leighton exclaimed in delight as Harriet played the pianoforte after dinner. Agnes had introduced her to the ladies, and they'd had a most pleasant meal.

Not to mention a much-needed distraction for all of us,Agnes thought to herself. She was glad she accepted Lady Leighton's invitation and brought the girls with her.

"Where have you been hiding and keeping such a young talent all to yourself, Agnes dear?" Lady Leighton turned to her, her eyes twinkling with amusement and genuine curiosity.

"Well, wherever it was, now I've decided to share her with you," Agnes quipped in turn, eliciting laughter from the Countess and Leslie, who sat in silence hitherto as she watched her sister play.

"Do you also play, my dear?" Lady Leighton turned to Leslie, her interest apparent.

"I prefer string instruments," Leslie responded, her voice gentle yet clear. "I am still learning, but I do have a way with the violin already," she added modestly, her cheeks coloring slightly.

"Why, a musical family it is!" The Countess declared with a chuckle. "I'm sure there is never a moment lacking in entertainment in your household, Lady Gillingham."

Agnes smiled in response as a footman poured more sherry into her glass, her heart slightly lighter from the evening's jovial atmosphere and the comforting presence of friendly company.

She did not desire the drink so much as she needed something to keep her hands occupied and her mind further distracted. Despite the pleasant company and the lively melodies that filled the room, the emptiness Agnes carried within her remained. Nothing sufficed to fill it; this was a void not so easily mended, she realized.

The events of the afternoon had starkly reminded her of a fact she'd cast aside in hopes for more. Theodore was not truly her husband. He'd never been. And he perhaps never would be.

Just as the final notes of Harriet's melody lingered in the air, creating a brief, poignant silence, the Leighton butler walked in. "The Marquess of Gillingham," he announced.

Agnes spied Harriet and Leslie exchanging a quick, concerned glance—an unspoken conversation passing between them. Her own heart skipped in her chest and apprehension gripped her.

Lady Leighton, who was oblivious to the tension, clapped her hands in delight as she urged her butler to usher in the guest.

Agnes, however, was not as keen about Theodore. In fact, she felt very much conflicted right now as a part of her desperately yearned to see him, while the other desired to keep as far away from him as possible. The emotions churned inside her, pulling her in two directions simultaneously.

He walked into the room, his presence taking over everything. Agnes sucked in her breath and resisted the urge to look away from him—so as not to betray any weakness. Smiling at Lady Leighton, he took the hand she offered.

"Have you seen my darling wife, My Lady? I cannot seem to find her anywhere," Theodore asked with an air of easy charm as he dropped a kiss onto the Countess's knuckles. His demeanor was light, but his eyes scanned the room with an intensity that belied his insouciant tone.

"Oh, I am afraid I might have stolen this darling wife of yours for the evening, Lord Gillingham," Lady Leighton played along, her voice lilting with amusement. "She is most pleasant company, one simply cannot resist!"

Leslie let out a little chuckle at this display, appreciating the humor in Lady Leighton's words. Harriet, however, appeared almost as wary as Agnes, her smile tight and her eyes darting between her brother and sister-in-law.

"But since you ask so nicely, I am willing to share her with you while she is here," the Countess pointed in Agnes's direction now, her gesture grand and inclusive.

"How magnanimous of you, My Lady," Theodore said, his voice dripping with ostensible gratitude as he started in Agnes's direction, his steps measured and purposeful, his gaze holding her intently.

"Oh, such young love! What true hearts!" Lady Leighton sighed dreamily, clasping her hands together as she watched the scene unfold before her.

When he finally covered the distance to where she sat, Agnes found herself further surprised when her husband suddenly swept into a bow and whipped out a posy of wildflowers from behind him. "I picked these for you on my way, darling," he said. His voice carried a sheepish tone, and his eyes sought hers, looking for a sign of forgiveness or perhaps a softening of her stance.

Agnes hesitated, but only fleetingly, before she let her fingers close around the flowers. Instinctively, she raised them to her nose and inhaled, the simple scent providing a small comfort.

"We had a little spat earlier, and I couldn't rest knowing she's upset, you see," Theodore explained as he glanced in the countess's direction now, sharing a look that seemed to seek approval or perhaps understanding.

"Why you should have told me that, dear child, instead of pretending he was busy," Lady Leighton said to Agnes as she laughed. Her tone was light, teasing, meant to ease the tension perhaps.

It was Agnes who suddenly felt sheepish now for being caught in her little lie. She smiled awkwardly, not quite meeting anyone's eyes as she fiddled with the stems of the flowers.

"But all is well, all is well. He's a repented fellow now," the woman added. Laughter followed from Theodore and the girls, a light-hearted moment that even drew a reluctant laugh from Agnes, despite the lingering shadows of their earlier disagreement.

"Such little squabbles in marriage are only natural. If anything, they are healthy, for they comprise the very foundation of the bond in every union," the Countess continued sagely. "They soften the heart when it acknowledges its faults. And in turn, it grows fonder, you see."

Leslie let out a yawn just then, her eyelids drooping slightly from the fatigue of the evening's excitements.

"Oh, it is getting quite late. I think I have held your family long enough for an evening, Lord Gillingham," Lady Leighton said to Theodore.

"Indeed, you have," Theodore chuckled, appreciative. He took Agnes' hand and led her to the carriage.

"We had the most marvelous time, brother," Leslie said once they were all settled and on their way home, another yawn escaping her lips.

"I am glad you did, Leslie dear," Theodore responded, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Now you need to sleep."

"But I do not want to," Leslie grumbled, her youthful spirit still burning bright despite her obvious tiredness. "The night is still young. Thus, I must stay and share in its merriment," she added with a defiant pout. But her head soon collapsed against her brother's shoulder, and her eyes fluttered closed, surrendering to sleep.

"You can share in tomorrow's merriment," Theodore said softly as he ran a fond hand through his now dozing sister's hair, a gentle smile touching his lips.

"She's such a child," Harriet observed with an equally fond chuckle, watching her younger sister with affection.

"Not so loud, Harriet. She'll hear you," Agnes audibly whispered.

"She is only twelve. I do not know why she insists that she is a young lady."

Theodore's laugh mingled with theirs in the quiet of the carriage. If only this moment is as genuine as it appears, Agnes thought miserably despite the smile she still wore, her heart aching with the complexities of her marital situation.

She was seated just opposite and quite close to her husband in the carriage, but he had never felt more distant. In fact, they were further apart than they had ever been. Despite the laughter and shared merriment just moments ago, a chasm of unspoken words and unresolved issues stretched between them, making the physical proximity seem like an illusion.

When they arrived home, she bid the girls and Theodore goodnight and went to her bedchamber, hoping everyone would understand her desire to be left alone. As she was changing into her night dress, a knock sounded at the door before Miss Evans joined her.

"You did not call me, My Lady," she complained, setting down a missive on a table.

"I did not want to bother you," Agnes replied, sitting at the vanity and picking up her hairbrush.

"Oh, My Lady." Evans shook her head.

"What is that?" Agnes asked, pointing at the missive on the table.

"Oh, this arrived for you from London. It is from your family."

Agnes quickly collected the letter and opened:

My Dearest Agnes,

I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. The Duke and I miss you dearly, and the house has felt all too quiet without your laughter echoing through its halls.

I am writing to bring you a piece of joyful news. Philip, Harry, and George are set to travel to spend a few days or a sennight with you. They have been restless with excitement, and poor George is able to eat. All he talks about is exploring Lord Gillingham's estate and the treasures to be uncovered. Imagine! Harry is asking why they cannot depart tomorrow.

They will be with you in three days, my dear. We hope that this visit will bring you the comfort and joy we know you deserve. Know that you are always in our thoughts and prayers, and we eagerly await the stories you will share upon your return.

With all the love we can send,

Caroline

This was the best news, for it made her long and miserable day suddenly feel lighter. The weight of her troubles seemed to lift slightly, giving her a momentary reprieve from the emotional turmoil that had been her constant companion.

Three days later, Agnes rushed to the front of the manor as a carriage approached. She had been by the window all morning, waiting for its arrival. A small hand popped out of the window of the carriage just then, frantically waving a small tree branch.

"Agnes, Agnes!" she heard Georgie calling out as his tree branch matched his excitement in the air. Agnes heard a fond little chuckle escape her as she wondered where and how he obtained the branch.

The moment the carriage halted before the entrance, the door practically burst open before the footmen could reach it. Georgie and Harry tumbled over each other in a fit to get to her. And before she could register further, Agnes felt herself land squarely on her bottom, while the boys covered her with hugs and kisses. She laughed.

"One would say Mother never invested any time into your manners," Philip clucked his tongue at his excited brothers. She looked up to see his smiling face. He bowed elegantly. "What a pleasure to see you again, Lady Gillingham."

He plucked George off Agnes then and helped her to her feet before giving her a more civilized embrace. "Oh, how I've missed you all!" Agnes cried as she squeezed Philip back warmly.

"Your frock is all soiled, Agnes," Harry observed now, a note of concern in his voice.

"Thanks to you and George," Philip said to his brother, his tone half-teasing, half-reproachful.

"It's Georgie! He always forgets his manners," Harry grumbled back, shooting a playful glare at the youngest.

"He never had them to begin with," Philip whispered to Agnes now with a little conspiratorial wink, causing her to let out a soft laugh.

"Manners are boring," George called out from where he'd moved to, his attention now captured by some hedges in the garden.

The boys met Harriet and Leslie in the drawing room. Greetings were exchanged, filled with the warmth and chaos of children and young ladies.

"Where's the Marquess?" George bounced on his feet, his spirit seemingly boundless. "And where is the pond?" he added before anyone could respond, his eyes darting around the drawing room as though expecting to find the body of water there.

"The marquess is out on business and shall return soon." Agnes calmed her excited brother with a gentle reassurance. The truth was that she did not know where Theodore was. She only saw him at mealtimes and their interactions were tense and detached. He had attempted to see her, knocking at her bedchamber door, but she had refused to respond. Agnes was not ready to face him, and worse, the wounds his words had inflicted were far deeper than she thought. Perhaps she would feel differently with her brothers present.

"Whose violin is this?" Harry called out, pointing at the instrument Leslie had left there last night after dinner.

"Do you play?" Leslie, suddenly anticipating a fellow string instrument lover, quickly got to her feet and joined him by the violin.

"Oh yes," Harry nodded enthusiastically. "But I'm not very good, I'm afraid," he confessed, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. Agnes recalled Harry's love for the instruments and smiled at his modesty.

"Oh, it's all right. We are all still learning, after all," Leslie reassured him with a gentle smile. "I can be your coach while you're here," she added, sparking a happy little squeal from Harry, delighted at the prospect of learning more.

While the children acquainted themselves with each other and their mutual love for music, Agnes decided it was a good moment to change out of her soiled frock. She opted for a darker color now. One could never tell when George would knock her down again.

When she returned to the drawing room a little later, she was surprised to find it empty. She heard movement behind her just then and whipped around to the sight of the housekeeper.

"The children are out in the gardens, My Lady," Mrs. Davis supplied helpfully before she even asked.

Agnes was further surprised when she went to the gardens and found some men planting flowers around. The place was coming alive with color. She spied some marigolds and peonies, their vibrant hues adding a lively charm to the scene.

Even the air was richer in fragrance, and she inhaled contentedly. Walking down the cobbled path, she sought her family. A giggle told her George was nearby, and when she emerged from behind a tall hedge, she received yet another surprise.

Kneeling in front of a flowerbed were Philip, George, and Theodore, their sleeves rolled and their hands dirty, planting flowers.

Agnes paused to watch her husband and brothers, feeling something both tighten and bloom in her chest. When will I be rid of this ache?

"We found Gillingham, Agnes!" A muddied George called out as she approached, his face smeared with dirt but his eyes sparkling with mischief and delight.

"And I see you found some dirt," Agnes chuckled, appreciating the joyful chaos George always seemed to bring.

"How do you like the garden?" Theodore asked, making a show of clapping his dirt-caked hands together. "It isn't much, but it's coming together fine. I think," he added, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty—as if he was seeking her approval.

"It's coming together beautifully," Agnes assured him. She truly loved the transformation, appreciating not just the change in the landscape but also his effort and the way he involved her brothers so soon after their arrival.

"We will go over the music sheets later then," came Leslie's voice from nearby. Agnes turned to see her with Harry and Harriet seated at a wrought iron table, their attention divided between the gardening activity and the parchment in front of them.

Deciding this was a perfect moment to engage with everyone, Agnes moved toward the table to join them.

"Come plant with us, Agnes!" George offered eagerly, waving at her.

Before she could respond, Harry quickly said, "Can't you see she's all clean now? No one wants to get soiled like you, Georgie!"

"Gillingham does!" George stuck his tongue out at Harry, his retort spirited and cheeky.

Harriet and Leslie laughed at this brotherly exchange. Just then, some footmen arrived bearing trays of lemonade and sandwiches, shepherded by Mrs. Davis. The refreshments came as a pleasant interruption to the lively gardening session.

As the children ate, gardened, and filled the air with chatter and laughter, Agnes's gaze met her husband's across the garden. Her throat tightened and she felt emptier than ever. It was proving to be an impossible task understanding why she was feeling this way.

Theodore held her gaze and she thought she could see longing that mirrored hers, but then he looked away when Goerge spoke to him, and the spell was broken. She watched him pluck a primrose and hand it to the boy before whispering something to him.

George accepted the flower, and with a broad grin, shot to his feet, darted toward her and offered the bloom.

"Gillingham says you look prettier than this flower," George giggled.

Agnes felt her cheeks warm, and she laughed, her fingers curling around the primrose stalk. When she looked up and her eyes met Theodore's again, she realized what had been happening to her. She was in love. With Theodore!