“I wondered— Clovis and I wondered— if you had considered certain options for your future. Your father has inquired about that, on your behalf.” Lady Maylis waited a moment. “Would you consider transferring the marriage agreements to Sigbert? The marriage to happen in due course, a long betrothal, suitable for a proper period of mourning.”
Thessaly gaped. She had not expected this. She ought to have expected this. It was exactly the high-handedness she had come to expect. She could feel her heart beating fast and she felt faint. The parson’s cat was an indecent cat, the parson’s cat was a joyless cat, the parson’s cat was a, was a... Her mind stalled before supplying the word ‘knavish’ as a reasonable option.
She frantically gathered her wits. “I had not considered it, Lady Maylis, not at all.” She could still hear her heartbeat thumping. She was about to ask something else, then she saw the figure behind the hedge emerge, looking stunned and flushing beet red. That was definitely Sigbert. It gave Thessaly a direction, at least. “Have you discussed it with Sigbert, Lady Maylis? Or anyone else besides Lord Clovis?”
“Not yet.” Lady Maylis sounded utterly autocratic. “It would suit your father.”
Sigbert was, as she had recently said, an improvement on Childeric, though she did not know how Sigbert might change if he were actually betrothed. Thessaly took a deep breath,watching Sigbert past his mother’s shoulder, then looking back at Lady Maylis before her attention could be drawn there. “I truly had not considered it. My situation has changed in several respects.”
First, there was Vitus, and if she could arrange it, she vastly preferred him. “And my understanding, from my trustee, is that any future marriage agreements would need to be written with my current considerations in mind.” Not least that she would want to write free access for herself to Bryn Glas into the agreements. Also, a preservation of her rights, property, and obligations to it. “I am not declining, but I am not agreeing, Lady Maylis, if that gives you answer enough for the moment.” Turning Sigbert down now seemed too dangerous to risk, honestly.
Lady Maylis pursed her lips. The parson’s cat was a lamentable cat. Also limited. Then she nodded her head, just once. “Do check with your, what was the word, trustee, if you would, and determine what would be necessary. We will discuss it again. We would be glad to invite you out again, of course, so you might spend time with Sigbert on the estate.” Not in public, of course not, given the state of mourning. “Or you could invite him to Bryn Glas.”
“I will be glad to consider whatever invitations you offer.” Thessaly swallowed, feeling sick to her stomach. “Please, if you don’t mind, I’d like some time to think about what you’ve said.” Now, and ongoing, she hoped that came across, but she was sure Lady Maylis would follow her own sense of time.
“As you wish. I shall go back inside, then, and let you think out here. We will have tea in half an hour. If you see Sigbert, do remind him.” She turned, picking up her skirts and walking back down the long path, disappearing into the distance. Sigbert had moved out of the line of sight as they’d finished talking.
Thessaly waited until Lady Maylis was no longer gone, and then commented to the hedge, “I can’t see her any longer.”
The gate creaked and then clicked closed. Sigbert cleared his throat. “I had no idea.” Then he tried again, his voice dropping half an octave, as he tried to sound more in control. “Do you hate the notion, then?”
That put the onus on her to respond. “That’s not how I’d put it.” She turned to face him, mostly so she could get as much information as possible from his expression. “I am startled that your mother would ask, here and now. I honestly am not sure what I think.”
“Childeric did not give you much cause to want to continue with the family.” Sigbert’s voice was quieter now. “I’d do better.”
It would take some effort to do worse, honestly. Thessaly did not say that. She had more sense. It was correct, but saying it would be unkind, especially on these lands. She considered, then said, “It’s the sort of thing I’d want to talk out in detail before even considering rewriting the agreements. And I can’t imagine doing that for a little while yet.” Then she caught something in his expression. “What do you think about it?”
“I knew Maman was going to make a match for me. And there aren’t terribly many choices she’ll approve of.” Sigbert shrugged. “Genevieve Donovan can’t marry yet. Septima Palgrave is betrothed, Winifred Hastings and I wouldn’t do at all well together, Maman won’t consider Felicia Roberts or Alethea Witham. And there are some concerns about whether Rosanna Hedgeworth is healthy. Idonnea Marchant, maybe, but Maman would see that as marrying down.”
Thessaly quite liked Idonnea Marchant, so she wouldn’t wish Lady Maylis on her. “And on my end, the other Heirs right now are promised or not ready to marry. Jupiter Delwyn. I know there’s been some gossip about how Cyrus Smythe-Clive is more eligible now than he had been.”
Sigbert nodded. “We’re both in an uncomfortable position that way.” Thessaly did not agree with him on that point, but she would not argue about it. He went on with a certain earnestness that seemed sincere. “I know you. I know what to expect. I think we could do well together, if we chose to.”
That was an interesting phrasing indeed. Thessaly inclined her head, just slightly. “As I said— you did hear all of it?” Sigbert nodded. “I am not saying no. I am not saying yes. I will consider it. We can talk more about your expectations at some point.”
Sigbert nodded, then let out a soft sigh. “I don’t entirely know what to do. Maman and Father need me to marry. They’d far rather not have the land magic pass to Uncle Dagobert, or to Garin.”
“And your aunt married out, not thinking it might be relevant.” She was well and truly tied into the Nevill’s magics now, whatever they were.
“Exactly.” Sigbert rubbed his nose. “May I be a tad indelicate?”
“Yes.” Thessaly steadied herself.
“There is, of course, the obligation to have children, or at least do our utmost. But I would not prevail upon you beyond that. I would understand if you wanted your own life, your own spaces.” He did not come out and say ‘other people’, but it was hanging there. It made her wonder about his own arrangements, whatever form they took.
Thessaly inclined her head. “I appreciate you stating that.”
“I know your agreements with Childeric made allowances. I wouldn’t object, as long as it was handled with discretion.” He offered that directly, now, and the fact he had made her think a hair better of him.
“Childeric said that, originally.” And they both knew how that had gone, at the first hint that Thessaly was considering even a conversation in private with another man. “We can talk.Now, you’d best escort me in to tea. Simplest way to go forward, don’t you think?”
She did not give him much choice in the matter, really. Having them come in almost at the same moment would be awkward. He offered his arm, and they walked back in near silence.
8
OCTOBER 24TH AT THE FOUR METALS IN TRELLECH
Vitus had something of a headache, but he’d been determined to make it tonight. He’d hoped to see Thessaly yesterday, but she’d sent a note saying she wasn’t feeling well. That, he worried about, far above and beyond his own discomfort. She’d asked if he’d make himself free the evening of the thirty-first. There were family traditions she’d like company for, the sort that took all night. He was hanging onto that.
