Page 38 of The Dreaming Beauty
Aster stopped in her tracks. “When did I say that?”
“To Iris when she was looking through the windows. You remember. The day we delivered the strawberries.”
Iris caught up to them. “Leave it alone, Tansy. Sometimes it is best to bury the past, where it belongs.”
“I have heard such a sentiment for too long. Why did you bring me here if not to be forthcoming about what happened here?”
Daisy joined them. “The past? No, let’s not talk about that. I hate when we bring up those dreary years.”
Aster put her hand out to them. “It’s all right, Sisters.” She took a fortifying breath. “Richard was a good man, and one who died far before his time. His death was one of many in our lives during a short time. We were once as welcome at Ashbury Court as we are now, but after his death, we could not return. I cannot think of him without thinking of... without thinking of all we have lost.” Her voice wavered, and she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve.
Surprise sobered Tansy’s enthusiasm. She had been wrong, then. If she understood correctly, Richard had just been a family friend like Marcus was. “I’m sorry. I did not think.” Tansy put her hand on Aster’s arm.
“No, dear,” Aster said. “There is so much to tell when the time is right, but every story—every memory—brings real pain to think on.”
Daisy sniffled, and Iris’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Tansy could see them remembering too, and the pain reflecting in their eyes. Humbled, she did her best to suppress her longing to know more. She put her arm around Daisy, and they all started walking once more, the mood reflective. Besides the occasional sound of a passing bird and their steps crunching against the road, no one spoke.
The last time they had left Ashbury Court, they had all laughed and teased, and life had felt lighter than it had in a long time. Today all that joy had unraveled as their hearts ached for each other. Tansy would never fully understand their grief until they shared it with her, but she could never be happy if her aunts were not happy. Even if it meant waiting a little more to finally learn what had happened so long ago that no one dared speak of.
* * *
“Are you sorry I did not tell you about Miss Tansy and her aunts coming this morning?” Simon asked.
Marcus stared out his window at the group of women walking away, his eyes lingering on Tansy’s form. “Why? Are you apologizing?”
“No. Not unless you are angry. Why feel guilty unless I need to?”
Marcus chuckled. “My presence is not required for you to have an art lesson, so you can relax. Unless, of course, you feel inspired to capture my rugged looks in your next painting. Then I had better receive an invitation.”
Simon guffawed. “I cannot say I have plans for such a project. But I am glad to hear you are not upset. You are always rushing off to do something or other, and I am far too impatient to coordinate our schedules.”
Turning away from the window, Marcus put his hands on the record books and pushed them toward Simon. “You are right about our schedules conflicting, but since you have a moment, I want you to examine these. You cannot keep ignoring your estate.”
“Certainly I can. Why do the two of us need to carry the burden of it when you are doing such an excellent job yourself?”
“Because, Simon, I won’t be here forever. It’s time you hired a new steward and took your rightful position.”
“You sound like Mother now.” Simon sank into the seat by the desk and propped his boots on top of the record book.
Marcus shoved Simon’s feet off the book and dusted it off. “If you are to have a duchess, you don’t want her to know how uninformed her husband is.”
Simon hung his head back and groaned. “I concede your point, but not today. I’ve my things on the lawn to take care of, and I won’t have a servant putting them away.”
Sighing, Marcus nodded. Putting away the painting supplies would take all of ten minutes, and the entire afternoon was before them. But he knew arguing would only make Simon feel cornered, and when his brother felt that way, he bolted.
Besides, Marcus needed a moment anyway. He couldn’t believe Tansy had anything to do with Simon’s sudden change of mind. It simply did not feel right. Not when Marcus knew the angelic woman already had claim onhisheart.
When Simon walked from the room, Marcus turned back to the window, but the women were now gone from his view. Was he finally admitting he cared more for Tansy than he had let on to his brother? There was no denying the way his heart had raced at the mere sight of her or the way his stomach had plummeted to see her enter on Simon’s arm. He’d done his best to hide his reactions from the others, but it was harder each time he was near her. He doubted his strength to do so in the future. Tansy was too good and too wonderful to ignore.
He ran his hand along the smooth grain of his desk but jerked it back when he realized the motion only made him imagine running his fingers along the cream-silk contours of Tansy’s face and neck.
It seemed fighting his desire for her was pointless. The more he tried not to think of her, the more she seemed to occupy his thoughts. But what was he to do about it? Dare he try to see if there could be love between them? Could he do that to Simon? To his mother? The consequence could affect their lives as well as his, and was it worth damaging such relationships? He chewed over the dilemma. For once, something occupied his mind more than his mysterious dreams.
Chapter 16
Tansy turned down the nextinvitation to a painting lesson. Her aunts had not recovered from their last trip to Ashbury Court. The house had been unusually quiet for days. When another invitation came a few days later, Aster insisted Tansy go.
“Are you sure?”
