of wonder crossed his cold, hard face, breaking the austere features into something more humane. “Dear God, it really is you.”
Volume Three
Chapter One
Ginny
Snow fell in fluffy flakes that twirled through the air like dancers. Beautiful, pristine snow that was not violated by rubbish, mud, and horse manure of the city. The countryside was lovely this time of year.
Even if we were rather isolated out upon these moors, a house full of family made up for the morose ambiance. There was always someone to talk to, someone to take a walk with, a child laughing…or screaming. And I’d thought the countryside would be quiet and peaceful.
Violet had been right about one thing, there were so many stars in the sky that I felt as if I lived in another world. A world of peace and magic and possibility. The first thing I’d purchased with my inheritance had been a telescope. It was the most expensive thing I’d ever bought. It sat near the window in my beautiful bedchamber. Apparently, the same room I’d lived in as a child, although I barely remembered it. Jules had insisted on redecorating to fit my new, mature style. Yes, I was spoiled here. I had everything I could need or want.
I was so far away from London that the city seemed a dream now. Another time, another person, because surely that wasn’t me who had pleaded for scraps of food at fourteen. Who had worked her fingers to the bone in a factory, all while worrying about maintaining a roof over my head in the middle of winter. Surely it wasn’t me who had thought about becoming a man’s mistress so that I could support myself.
Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead to the cold glass. My warm breath melted the frost that tinged the corners, so that I had a better view of the front gardens and drive. The same front garden where I’d jumped in autumn leaves with my brothers. I could not deny that I felt safe here at the familial estate. Izzy and I belonged here. The memories were fuzzy, but they were the evidence I needed. This was my childhood home. I was descended from an earl. I was a lady.
Yet, I’d been here over a year, and I still didn’t feel like I fit. The fancy gowns seemed heavy, oppressive, and I was forever fearful of getting a stain on my skirts. Lounging around while servants did my hair, cleaned my room, even dressed me, made me feel guilty and useless. And although there was always someone to talk to, my days yawned before me, hollow and empty.
Outside the door, I could hear James and Jules whispering together. I glanced over my shoulder. Just through the crack, I could see him holding her close. He kissed her cheek, then her lips, offering her the sort of comfort only he could give.
She’d been with child that first time I’d seen her in Miss Lamier’s shop, before I’d known we were related. But not soon after I’d arrived, she’d lost the babe. It had been a year, but she still looked lost at times, as if she was missing something, but didn’t quite know where to find it. Whenever I noticed that sad look in her eyes, regret whispered through me. I wondered if they blamed me. After all, hadn’t I brought chaos and anxiety into their home upon my arrival? Was it my fault she’d lost the babe?
James kissed her one last time, then turned and left. She pushed the sitting room door open, sweeping inside with a smile upon her face, as if everything was right with the world, even though we both knew it wasn’t.
Fortunately, that last meeting with Gabe had not produced a child. And even as I’d been so greatly relieved that I’d cried in my room when my monthly courses had arrived, I could hear Jules crying in her chambers because she had lost her baby.
“Hello, Evie. How are you today?”
Evie. They called me Evie. But it didn’t feel natural. I was Ginny. Or at least I had been for as long as I could remember. Ginny felt normal. But I hadn’t the heart to tell them, and so I forced a smile upon my face. “Good morning, Jules.”
She looked beautiful in her blue wool that matched her eyes. “The footmen have procured some pine boughs. I know it’s early, but I thought we might decorate the fireplace mantels, perhaps wrap the boughs around the banisters.