Something Old by Rebecca Connolly (autobiographies to read txt) 📕

can imagine not,” Lily mused without emotion. “Do you know if they will bring the children?”

“Why would they?” he asked without thinking, frowning at the thought. “London isn’t the place for them. They belong at Knightsgate.”

He knew the moment he fell silent he had said the wrong thing, though it was undoubtedly true. London was meant for the Marriage Mart and the Season, not children, and there was no possibility of Monty being of any use to Thomas if his six children were in tow. He’d offered to come in the same breath he’d offered the place as a location for Thomas to begin.

Why else would Monty come to London but to assist him?

“Do you believe that children should only be present when sent for and only speak when spoken to?” Lily asked coldly, her words clipped. “A necessary inconvenience to the interests of their parents and nothing more?”

Thomas barely avoided a wince. “I have little experience with children. Even Monty’s. They are always elsewhere in the house when I call.”

“Probably because you call so infrequently, and politeness says the children must not disturb guests.” Lily scoffed softly, shaking her head.

“I am not particularly sociable,” Thomas reminded her, wondering how they got to a topic of such sensitivity so quickly. “I’ve been much occupied with business, almost constantly.”

He could almost hear her laugh of disapproval, though there was no sound at all.

She knew he was occupied with business. He was always occupied with business.

He had his reasons, but she did not know them, therefore he could not be irritated.

“I do know,” he added as quickly as he could, “that I shall endeavor to be more sociable in the future. And more available for such niceties. I don’t dislike children, for what that is worth. I simply… know nothing about them. Or how I feel about them.”

He held his breath, watching his wife as much as he could without looking at her, barely glimpsing her in his periphery.

Her shoulders slowly lowered on an exhale, and he felt as though he had just been spared something. “That’s fair, I suppose. I hadn’t considered… Well, I’ve had so many opportunities to be around children and to determine my opinions, it never occurred to me that you wouldn’t have.”

“My sister Martha doesn’t visit from the north,” he said, relief washing over him. “I only know the names of her children. And you know my brother Lawrence has none. My parents were encouraging but hardly doting, and I’ve never known anything else.”

Lily nodded once, and this time, Thomas did look, catching a surprisingly hard expression on her face. “I was kept away from everyone until I was thirteen. Even my parents did not care to see us. We came down to be presented at afternoon tea for precisely seven minutes, and then we were taken back to the nursery. We did not dine with our parents until we had been tested on the manners acceptable for Society. Emma believed I was her mother when she was old enough to speak. Imagine her distress to learn the truth.”

Thomas had known the dismissive nature of the Ardens, but in only seeing the public image they portrayed, he could never have imagined the neglect inflicted upon their girls.

“The only reprieve,” Lily went on, her voice dipping lower with emotion, “was when we could stay with Aunt Augusta. She is no saint, but she at least cared enough to see us and converse. We felt acknowledged, if not appreciated.”

Before he could think, before he could consider his actions, he reached out and put a hand on her arm, squeezing gently.

She looked at his hand in surprise, then up to his face.

He offered what he hoped was a gentle smile. “Should we be fortunate enough to have children, they will feel acknowledged and appreciated. That I can promise you.”

Lily’s dark eyes widened, searching his, and her throat worked on a swallow. She looked away then, blinking rapidly, but she did not pull away from him or shrug his hand off.

He would consider that a miracle.

The carriage appeared then, and Thomas would normally have stepped away to speak with the driver while their trunks were loaded or asked for his horse so he might ride on his own rather than in the carriage.

Not this time.

He stayed exactly where he was, feet firmly planted, hand still touching his wife. He wouldn’t break that contact until he absolutely had to, the drought of connection between them too much to bear now he’d had a reprieve. Their moments of being together had been so few and far between, connection of any kind had become a rarity.

He aimed to remedy that now.

Lily sniffed once, then exhaled a happier sound and gestured to the carriage. “Shall we?”

Thomas nodded, applying the slightest pressure to her arm in an attempt to steer her, his fingers pulsing with the sensation of touching her. They moved to the carriage, and he folded the steps down for her, then offered his free hand to assist her up.

She didn’t take it, but she smiled, which seemed almost the same thing.

Almost.

His fingers slid from her arm as she entered, the air around them suddenly cold. He curled them into a fist instinctively before climbing into the carriage himself, situating himself in the seat opposite, his back to the driver.

Lily did not like riding against the motion of the carriage. It made her queasy.

He couldn’t remember her ever telling him that; he just knew.

Of course, it was possible that she had mentioned it at some time or another, something in passing, but he couldn’t recollect the moment she had done so.

He never minded sitting with his back to the motion, and he certainly did not mind sitting opposite her. It gave him ample opportunity to observe her, to enjoy the beauty in her appearance and the radiance of her person. She wasn’t particularly talkative on journeys, but she was surprisingly expressive in her features. It had long been a favorite pastime of his to