Chapter 166

“I’ve been thinking about yesterday,” Eugenia began at last. “And I believe I owe you an apology.”

Cassandra looked at her in surprise. “An apology? For what?”

“For the way I behaved when you mentioned Dominic.” Eugenia drew a breath, then continued awkwardly. “I was curt and dismissive with you, and there was no reason for it. You were only being kind. I promise that is not how I usually am.”

Cassandra was still trying to understand. She remembered Eugenia’s reaction the previous day, when she had asked about her husband, but she had not imagined the incident had troubled Eugenia so much.

“You needn’t apologise,” she said gently. “You did not offend me.”

“Perhaps not, but I knew I was being unpleasant. I don’t like that side of myself.” Eugenia gave a small, self-conscious laugh. “The trouble is that whenever Dominic is mentioned, I seem to become someone I hardly recognise. He is a sore subject for me, and I suppose I allow that to colour everything I say.”

Cassandra’s surprise gave way to concern. Eugenia’s playful manner had made it easy to forget that there might be things she preferred not to discuss, and Cassandra regretted having touched upon one of them without knowing.

“May I ask why?” she said.

Eugenia was quiet for several steps. Ahead, the path curved between the trees.

“My marriage is one of the things I feel least certain about in my life,” she admitted. “I don’t know where it is going, or what will become of it. I am a married woman who lives as a spinster.”

Her attempt at humour was weak, and Cassandra could hear the sadness woven into each word.

“People sometimes forget that I am married,” Eugenia continued. “Dominic is never around; his absence has become the defining feature of our marriage.”

“Then why did you marry him?” Cassandra asked but it wasn’t accusatory. She just wanted to understand the situation more.

She was seeing a side of Eugenia she had not expected.

Eugenia gave a rueful laugh. “Why else? I loved him. I still love him.”

She looked ahead along the path, and for once there was no hint of mischief in her expression. “I loved him from the first time I laid eyes on him. And we all know that the hardest thing to do in the world is deter a girl in love. I was in my first Season when I met Dominic Stratton, the fifth Marquess of Wetherby. And even then he was already deeply involved in his work at the Foreign Office. He had come to Caldor to visit relatives, and we happened to attend the same ball. I remember thinking that I had never met anyone quite like him.”

Her voice softened as she recalled it. Cassandra could almost imagine the young Eugenia she described, caught up in the excitement of her first Season and certain that the man who had captured her interest was unlike anyone else in the world.

“It was an instant connection between us,” Eugenia said. “At least, it felt that way to me. He was not looking for a wife, and he told me so quite plainly. His work left little room for attachments, particularly one that required him to remain in a single place. He warned me more than once that, even if we married, he could not promise to be as present as I might wish.”

“And you married him anyway.”

“I did.” Eugenia’s smile self-deprecatingly. “I was in love, and I believed that because he loved me too, we would find a way to make it work. I knew he travelled for his work. I knew he would be away. But knowing something in theory is quite different from living with it every day.”

She explained that they had married at the end of the Season. Their wedding had been followed by a brief period together before Dominic returned to his duties, leaving Caldor only a week after they were married. His visit had never been intended to last, and his work abroad was waiting for him.

“I remember telling myself that the separation would be temporary, that once he had finished what he needed to do, things would become easier. Then one journey became another, and another. There was always something that required his attention, some matter that could not be left to someone else. So young and naive. Foolish even, that was what I was.”

She shook her head, the movement small and weary.

“I am lonely most of the time, Cassandra. So terribly lonely. That is why I stay with Mother whenever I can. I cannot bear being alone in my own house where I have no husband to keep me company.”

Eugenia seemed to have exhausted what she was willing to say, and Cassandra did not know whether a response would comfort her or merely draw attention to the vulnerability she had just exposed.

The fact that she felt comfortable confiding in her was a testament to the strength of their budding friendship.

Cassandra struggled to find the right words to express what was on her mind. Luckily, Eugenia seemed content to just have someone willing to listen. They continued along the path, the trees gradually thinning as the landscape opened before them.

Then Eugenia came to a halt and gestured ahead.

“There it is. Isn’t it magnificent?”

Cassandra followed her gaze. The lake stretched wide before them, its surface reflecting the pale morning sky. Sunlight lay across the water in shifting patterns, broken by the gentle movement of the breeze.

“It is,” Cassandra replied. “Very magnificent indeed.”

On their way back, they took a different turn that led them along an entirely separate path. They passed a few smaller buildings scattered across the grounds, some of which were cottages. Eugenia explained that the guards occupied some of them, while the others were reserved for special use.

Just as the last words left her mouth, movement near one of the cottages caught their attention. A man had stepped outside, and both Cassandra and Eugenia came to an abrupt halt.

From where they stood, the figure was unlikely to notice them unless he came closer, but they had an unobstructed view of him. What they saw left them stunned.

It was Simon.

Neither of them had known he was still on the premises. They had both assumed he had departed yesterday with the other guests, and they didn’t have any reason to suspect otherwise. Yet there he was, emerging from one of the cottages as though he had never left.