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“Some things are best left alone, Agnes. And the sooner you learn to respect that, the better for everyone’s peace,” he returned, his voice firm, yet there was a hint of something else—was it exasperation?—that she couldn’t quite identify.

“You have expertly avoided every one of my questions about your life since we married,” Agnes finally unburdened herself, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why?”

“Like you said, my life. Hence, I do not need a reason to keep it private,” he responded, his tone cold, his face impassive.

“I am your wife now, Theodore. I have a right to know,” she countered, her voice rising in disbelief at his obstinacy.Why am I still attempting to get through to him?

“My wife in name only, in case you need reminding, Agnes,” he shot back sharply, and Agnes instinctively felt herself recoil as if physically struck by the cutting edge of his words.

“Our marriage is nothing more than an arrangement. Which can easily, and legally still be annulled in any court of law.”

Who was this man? His words came as if they were designed to cause her the most pain. Indeed, it was a reminder Agnes needed, though not one she wished to hear. She felt her feet move before her brain gave the command, her body reacting to the hurt and the finality in his tone.

“Very well,” she said, her voice low but composed as she turned and exited the room. Her steps were measured, her head held high, not allowing the tears that threatened to blur her vision to fall.

She needed to learn her place henceforth. After all, he was more than a good teacher in teaching her exactly where she belonged in his life. Which was nowhere. Perhaps there had never been a place for her, and she had simply been delusional from the start, thinking that she could place herself into Theodore’s life and everything would sparkle.

“Agnes,” familiar voices echoed behind her as she moved despondently through the hallway.

She turned to find Harriet and Leslie approaching, their expressions filled with concern that mirrored her own pain.

“We shouldn’t have brought up that topic. We are truly sorry,” the sisters said in unison.

“I didn’t know that he was yet to share the details with you. And I have forgotten how sensitive he gets; I take full responsibility,” Harriet said.

Leslie, although looking somewhat bewildered by the depth of the situation, nodded in agreement with her sister’s earnest apology.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you two.” Agnes tried to reassure them with a weak smile. “This is not your doing.”

“It is because he is angry,” Harriet insisted, her brow furrowed in worry. “Theo rarely allows himself to be overcome with anger, so this is significant.

“Harriet dear, we cannot control people’s reactions to things. So do not blame yourself for your brother’s response to this,” Agnes said gently, her tone attempting to soothe the palpable tension.

“And you too, Leslie,” Agnes continued, giving her head a comforting pat as she mustered a reassuring smile.

Harriet mumbled another apology, looking unconvinced but somewhat appeased by Agnes’s words.

“It isn’t anyone’s fault,” Agnes repeated firmly before they parted, leaving her to continue down the hallway alone, lost in her troubled thoughts.

She was stopped once again, this time by the butler, who bore a note for her. Taking a breath, she identified the crest as being Lady Leighton’s and she opened it:

My dear Lady Gillingham,

I would be honored if you could join me for dinner this evening at Leighton Manor. I do apologize for the late invitation. An old woman like me often craves company unexpectedly. I hope you will be able to give me your time.

Yours truly,

Lady Leighton.

Agnes’ reaction was initially driven by reluctance. She was in no mood to socialize, yet a part of her craved a distraction, however fleeting, from her current reality. Maybe an evening away from the manor would provide her with the respite she so desperately needed.

She turned on her heel and walked in the direction Harriet and Leslie went. She found them standing in the gardens, looking somewhat at odds with themselves.The poor girls.

Agnes waved the invitation. “Lady Leighton has invited us to dinner.”

Harriet smiled. “Oh, we have never been invited by her before.”

“Well, now we have.” Agnes held out her hand to them. “Shall we plan what to wear?”