“I’ve never talked about the night they died,” she said. “I mean…I’ve told people things about the fire. I still see that in my nightmares.”
“That’s why you’re awake tonight,” he realized.
She nodded. “Usually, they don’t bother me too much—the dreams—but tonight, they got the better of me for some reason.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“But that isn’t what I meant,” she said. “I’m thinking about the evening before the fire. The last evening we spent together as a family.” She glanced at him. “Would it hurt you for me to tell you about that?”
“Why would it?”
“Because it was nice,” she explained. “Because I don’t have any regrets about it. If I’d known at the time that it would be my last evening with my family, I wouldn’t have done anything differently.”
“That’s good,” he said softly. “I’m glad it’s like that for you, Madeleine. No, that doesn’t hurt me. I don’t want you to have regrets just because I have them. That’s the last thing I’d want for you.”
She nodded. It felt like poison was being drawn from a wound that was years old.
“What did you do that evening?” he asked her.
“Nothing,” she said. “I mean, nothing out of the ordinary. We had dinner. My father and I played a game of chess. My sister Amelia sang a few songs while Christopher, Jane, and I listened…she had such a lovely voice.”
Her eyes filled with tears. Thomas reached out and took her hand, but he didn’t tell her it was all right. He didn’t try to stop her from crying.
Madeleine appreciated it more than she thought she ever could have expressed.
She gripped his hand tightly and let the tears flow as, for the first time in years, she remembered that evening.
Everything had been so lovely. She hadn’t realized at the time just how happy they’d all been. But thinking back on it now, she knew she would give almost anything for one more night like that.
If there had to be a last night with her family, at least it had been one like that. One in which everything felt normal and comfortable. It was the way she would have chosen to remember them if she had been given a choice.
Thomas reached up and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Thank you,” he said.
“For crying all over you?”
“For being honest with me. Opening up to me. I know it was hard for you, but it means so much to me that you’re able to trust me,” he said softly. “I just hope we can continue building this trust with one another. I meant what I said, Madeleine. I’m falling in love with you. From now on, I want to know everything you’re willing to share.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Two days later, at the breakfast table, Madeleine faced Henrietta for the first time since the wedding.
“We have much to discuss,” the Dowager Duchess said as she took her seat.
Madeleine held her breath, sure that this would be the moment when she would, at last, be confronted about the gown she had chosen to wear on her wedding day.
But Henrietta didn’t bring that up—at least, not right away. “The Growerton Ball is in just a week’s time,” she said. “Invitations for all of us arrived this morning.”
“Me too?” Rachel asked eagerly, her mouth still full of her last bite of toast.
“Of course not you.” Her mother frowned. “You’re far too young, Rachel, and you know that. You mustn’t expect to be included in these things. Your time will come soon enough. You’ll have your debut, and then you’ll need to attend every ball. You’ll get tired of them.”
“Mother’s right,” Thomas said. “Enjoy the freedom to stay home while you’ve got it!”
Rachel groaned. “I don’t want to stay at home. Madeleine wants me to come along, don’t you, Madeleine?”
“Oh,” Madeleine said, startled at having been asked to give an opinion. “I don’t—I mean, I suppose I never thought about it. I do enjoy your company, of course—”
“It isn’t up to Madeleine,” Henrietta said rather sharply. Then, turning to Madeleine, she added, “And while we’re on the subject of things that are not up to you, there’s the matter of your wardrobe to discuss.”
