Page 4 of The Dreaming Beauty
Not half a minute passed before the door flung open and Aster and Daisy rushed into the room.
“What is it, dear?” Aster frowned, her brows creased with worry, marring her usual calm visage.
Daisy’s younger expression begged the same question.
Should Tansy tell them every horrible moment seared into her mind? No. Not when their names were tied to the problem. “It was nothing.”
“You looked peaked. A spot of tea will help.” Aster moved from the room and called for Betsy to bring in the tea things. Then she turned back to Tansy. “You might as well have it out and be done with it. You’ll feel better once you do.”
A sigh of resignation expelled from Tansy’s mouth. She did not have to tell them every detail, but they might as well know not to expect her latest suitor at their door. “It was Mr. Robinson. I saw him with Miss Evans. They were...” She couldn’t finish. What good would it do? She shook her head. “He is a scoundrel.”
Iris gave a curt nod. “He most certainly is. I ought to skewer the dunderhead with our fire poker.”
“I will not have any violent talk in this household.” Aster wiped her dirt-stained hands on her apron and took a seat beside her niece. Even though she had been out working, her hair was perfectly tamed, her dress beneath her apron unwrinkled. There was comfort in the consistency of it. “Tansy, dear, Mr. Robinson isn’t for you. I know you’re upset, but be grateful you did not love him.”
Tansy sat up so fast her head spun. “How can you say what my feelings are?” Iris and Daisy slipped into the worn armchairs by the fireplace, neither one used to hearing Tansy’s voice so escalated. She appealed to them for understanding. “Perhaps I did not express my affection for him, but it was real.”
Aster took her hand. “You did care for him, but love is different. You did not spend extra time at the mirror before he came by. Your cheeks did not glow after he left you. From what I can see, you are fortunate this happened before your attachment deepened.”
Tears finally leaked from Tansy’s eyes, and the hurt she had been avoiding began to trickle out. Mr. Robinson’s attentions had flattered her—given her hope, even—but Aster was right. “I could have loved him. I almost did.”
Daisy hugged herself, her eyes filled with tears of sympathy. “He wasn’t right for you.”
“Then, who is?” She asked all of them and none of them. “It seems no decent gentleman notices a woman without a dowry or a father’s good name, but every worthless man sees a woman’s pretty face and an opportunity to take advantage of her.”
“Your youth and beauty are a credit to you. Do not dismiss them.” Aster rubbed Tansy’s back in small circles. “And far better is your heart. No one loves like you do. There is still hope for an advantageous match.”
Tansy mentally cataloged the list of talents she wished were hers: If only she were a great musician or an experienced traveler with an abundance of conversational topics or could eloquently discuss the classics. If only she could claim such useful abilities or the feminine charms of the demure ladies of theton. She wasn’t so very young anymore. At nearly twenty, with a distasteful number of failed courtships, she felt herself growing closer to sharing her aunts’ fate—a life destined for loneliness. And then there were her puzzling dreams. These days, a simple loss of reason was enough to convict a person to a life in a madhouse. Aster had once toured Bethlem Royal Hospital in London, better known as Bedlam, and her horrific descriptions were worse than Tansy’s nightmares. Fate had indeed set her up for something, but true love did not seem to be it.
Aster studied her and turned to her sisters. “Iris, Daisy, I think it’s time.” The way she said it made the ache in Tansy’s heart slow as she opened her mind to understand what was being said.
Daisy nodded gravely while pulling at her sleeve—a habit none of them could get her to cease. She was young enough to be Tansy’s older sister, but while they were close, even she kept secrets from Tansy. “All the roses bloomed today—a good fairy omen.”
Iris grimaced. “It’s not the fairies but a man who pushes us out the door.” She was superstitious in her own right but could not countenance Daisy’s preoccupations. “Very well. Her birthday is not so far away. Why not tell her a bit early?”
“Tell me what?” Curiosity dried Tansy’s tears far faster than it should have.A sense of premonition that something was coming, much like she had had after her dream this morning, seemed to burn within her.
Aster’s round cheeks lifted. “It was meant to be a birthday surprise for your twentieth year. We are taking you to the Lake District to see Rose Cottage.”
Tansy inhaled sharply. “Truly?” Her eyes flashed to her painting of the place, and in her mind, it was replaced with an image of her mother. She had died when Tansy was but five, and the few memories of her were fleeting. Still, Tansy missed her with a fierceness only the heart could comprehend. She longed to know every part of her, and her mother’s favorite place in the world was Rose Cottage.
This was it.
This was her chance to finally learn the secrets to her mother’s past—to know why heartbreak was so intricately connected to her aunts and now to her. It was her chance to heal and forget and maybe even remember. She leaned forward in her seat. “When can we leave? How long can we stay?”
Aster chuckled. “What do you think, Sisters? I can write to the caretaker this afternoon to have the rooms aired. Shall we leave by the end of the week?”
Iris grinned. “Yes, let’s. I’ll pack enough books to last me until the end of summer.”
Daisy laughed and clapped her hands. “Twenty long years and we are finally going back. Just wait, Tansy. The grounds are thick with fairy magic!”
Tansy couldn’t help the laugh-cry that fell from her lips. “What is heartache to the comforts of home? I do not need a man to make me happy. My aunts always manage to cheer me.”
This was what they all needed. Daisy’s anxieties would settle, away from the crowds of the city; they would have a fresh start away from the whispers and unfounded rumors concerning their family; and Tansy’s disappointment would have time and space to heal.
“You have every right to be put out with Mr. Robinson, Tansy,” Iris said, eyeing the poker. “We shall never forget him for taking advantage of your affections.”
“Mr. Who?” Tansy suppressed the ache inside her, utterly determined to forget everything about the man, including his name. He did not deserve her tears. “I daresay if I was ever acquainted with such a person, I will no longer admit to it.”
