Page 43 of The Dreaming Beauty
“And what is it you’re looking for?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” She was frantic for a clue, for anything.
Aster waited expectantly.
Tansy didn’t want to hurt her aunt by bringing this up again, but she was tired of waiting for the right time for a proper discussion. Taking a glass goblet in her hand, she gathered her courage to speak. “Aster, I need to know about my mother. I believed this house would tell me all I needed. But it can’t. There is nothing here. Trust me. I’ve searched every inch of the place.”
“Tansy, dear.” Aster removed the goblet and set it aside. “I’ve already told you all I can recall about your mother’s childhood.”
“You know what I’m speaking of, Aster. I want to know about my father, about their marriage, about the window between when I came into existence up until her death. The time that no one speaks about.”
Aster paled. “I... I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Don’t pick and choose. Please, I beg you, just tell me everything.”
Aster’s voice dropped to a whisper. “What if telling you puts you in danger?”
Tansy squinted, her mind not fathoming how memories could harm her. “I can’t keep living on what-if. I want to know.”
Aster glanced to the door and back to Tansy. “I won’t break the promise I made to your mother. We are here, aren’t we? Can’t that be enough?”
Tansy knew now that simply residing here would never be enough. The questions burned inside her, demanding resolution. This could be the solution to her dreams—to ending them forever. “My birthday is soon. You planned to bring me here then, and I imagine you hoped for me to learn the truth. I won’t stop searching until I discover it, so wouldn’t it just be easier to tell me?”
Aster turned away. “It’s not as easy as all that.” She moved to the kitchen door leading to the side yard but stopped with her hand on the handle. “The dust doesn’t always settle well when you stir up the past. Sometimes it creates a devastating storm that causes more harm than good.”
“Aster,” Tansy called after her, but her aunt pushed the door open and stepped outside. “Aster!”
The oak door shut behind Aster, making a hollow thud, and Tansy blew out a fume of frustration.
* * *
Marcus had been to several shops until he was sure he had gathered all the finest paint materials in town. If Tansy could not come to her lessons, she should still be able to practice. A talent like hers ought not to be neglected. He compiled the items into a small crate and set it in his closet to deliver secretly when no one was about.
He had realized that he should at least attempt to keep the peace at home until the dinner. But no date had even been set, and it could be months away. Until then, he couldn’t resist finding his own way to stay a part of Tansy’s life.
Simon opened the door to Marcus’s bedchamber, letting himself in. “Bad news,” he announced. He laid on his side across Marcus’s bed. “The dinner party has been set for two weeks from now.”
Marcus shut the door on his paint things before his brother could see them. Two weeks. He could make it that long. Two days of knowing he could not see Tansy had been harder than they should have been, but two weeks was not the end of the world. “Is Mama to make out the invitations, or is it up to us to invite our neighbors?”
“You know she will do it all properly.”
“Good.”
“Yes, we will be more than ready to see Miss Tansy by then.”
We?Marcus tried to keep his face neutral. Simon’s comment implied he knew of Marcus’s feelings, even though Marcus had denied it. Was this a game to him? Simon had always tried to make everything a competition, but there was also an undeniable loyalty between them. They relied on each other, and Marcus didn’t want anything to come between them. Competing for Tansy’s affection was not the sort of thing Marcus would qualify as a harmless wager, and he would not sacrifice her as a source of entertainment for his easily bored brother.
Simon sighed. “Maybe you should plan a trip out of town.”
“So you will not have to compete for Miss Tansy’s attention?” Marcus clenched his jaw, forcing his tone to stay even. “You must truly care for her. Or is this about something else?”
“I meant just a quick weekend trip. I don’t know how you stayed in one place for an entire year. I feel sorry for asking you to do so for me.”
Marcus had not stayed in Whitfield the entire time, but the work he had aided Lord Cadogen with was not something he could speak of, even to his brother. It was too dangerous.
“But now that you mention my feelings for Miss Tansy,” Simon said, interrupting Marcus’s thoughts, “I never imagined I could marry an artist like myself, but she is unique. She has great talent but none of the weaknesses I possess. I do believe she is perfect.”
Perfect? Certainly, but not for Simon.
