Page 9 of A Duchess to Unravel
Theo’s brows furrowed. She’d been numb for the better part of the year. Had developed the talent of not hearing a thing as she stood silently along the wall at parties--but how could she have missed that people were still speaking of her and Amelia?
“I thought Dominic took care of those rumors?” She asked.
Tristan gave her an exhausted look.
“He can only truly control what others say in front of him. But no one can be everywhere at once, even with his little spies. There are plenty of spaces in our society where rumors can still run free. Surely you know that. You and your friends have gossiped extensively when you’re all together in the privacy of our home. Or at least you used to. Before you started pushing them away.”
Theo rubbed her lips together, guilt taking over.
“I have missed much in my self-absorption, haven’t I?” She asked.
Tristan pulled in a ragged breath that sounded full of relief. As if he’d been trying for months to make her understand something and she’d ignored him over and over again.
“You have,” he admitted. “We all grieve differently and I was trying to give you space to sort yours out--but after tonight, I am afraid I must intervene.”
Theo nodded numbly, feeling beaten down and defeated by all she had just learned.
“What do you want me to do?” She asked meekly.
“To start, I want you to have your friends over tomorrow. I know for a fact Seraphina and Amelia miss you terribly. I have no doubt that Ophelia and Rosamund feel the same,” Tristan replied.
Theo nodded again, a lump forming in her throat. Even if most of her last year was spent feeling numb, she knew deep down she had missed them too.
“What else?” She rasped.
Tristan moved from his side of the carriage to sit next to her and draped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his side, accepting his comfort for the first time since their mother died.
“I need you to stay away from the Devil’s Masquerade,” he answered. “And put an effort into a finding a husband. I am not worried about title or rank. I will not push toward social climbing. But it is time you find someone who can understand you and love you. Accept you. Give you reasons to not want to go to such places.”
Theo’s mind flashed back to Cernunnos, and the uncanny way he’d been able to read her so very well. She’d never see him again, or even if she would, they would not recognize another. For once she regretted not letting him remove her mask.
“You think it will be so easy?” She asked, lifting her head to look at Tristan. “I do not even know if I understand myself. How am I to find someone else that can?”
Tristan chuckled, pulled her back into his side, and kissed her forehead.
“I will help you find him any way I can, sister,” he replied.
“And if the scandal sheets do reveal that I have been seen at the Devil’s Masquerade?” she asked. “What if we continue to lose investors because of the mistakes I have made?”
Tristan shook his head, “Let me worry about that. If you can promise me you will stop trying to sneak back to the Masquerade, I will handle the brunt of whatever such rumors do to us.”
Their carriage stopped, and moment later their driver announced that they had arrived back at their London home.
“Come along,” Tristan urged gently. “Let us get you to bed. Tomorrow morning, we start fresh. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” she replied.
Tristan guided her out of the carriage and into their house. He gave her another hug and a kiss on her cheek when they reached the door to her private quarters, then bid her goodnight a final time before departing for his own. For a long moment Theo stood outside her door, her brother’s jacket tucked around her, her mask hanging limply in her hand. Her sense of identity felt out of grasp, impossible to reach.
Tomorrow they would start fresh.Shewould start fresh. But what did that even mean to her?
Eventually she went inside her quarters, taking a long look around the rooms she’d designed and had decorated to her liking. The walls that once felt welcoming and embracing now felt unfamiliar and wrong.
Everythingfelt wrong.
“Thank you all for coming,” Theo said. Her smile felt brittle. Fake, but she kept it in place.
None of her friends smiled back but looked on at her with great worry from across the table. Ophelia reached for her first, clasping Theo’s hand in her own. She barely felt it, as if an invisible barrier had wrapped itself too close to her skin preventing her from truly feeling anything.
