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A wave of interest swept through everyone in the room as Theodore painted a vivid picture. “Envision, if you will, towering peaks, so stately and imposing, yet crowned with the softest snow that sparkle under the sun.”

“Papa said we would travel one day, but the day has not come,” George said with a slight pout.

“And I shall be leaving for Eton soon,” Philip sighed.

“Perhaps, Lord Gillingham, you should take them with you on your next voyage.”

George’s eyes sparkled at that. “Will you?”

Theodore palmed his nape, seeming uncertain. “I do not know when my next trip would be.”

“Whenever it would be, make preparations for three guests,” Harry said with a wide grin.

Agnes had to laugh at her brothers inviting themselves on a trip that Theodore had no plans to take. A moment later, her concern for Harriet resurfaced. She couldn’t rest easy knowing the girl’sstate. Quietly excusing herself from the drawing room, she made her way to the salon where she found Harriet, alone and staring out the window.

“Are you all right, my dear?” Agnes asked gently, approaching her emotional sister.

“That was one of Mother’s compositions that Leslie played,” Harriet explained, her voice soft and wistful, as she turned to face Agnes, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Agnes now understood why the music reminded her of the one Theodore had played once. And it explained why he seemed very familiar with this melody too and was able to join in as though practiced.

“She made it beautiful on the violin. And a duet too. Most impressive,” Harriet commended, her eyes reflecting a glimmer of pride as she spoke of the performance.

“Your talents are all so impressive,” Agnes said, her tone genuine, appreciating the musical gifts that seemed abundant in the family.

“We have mother to thank for them,” Harriet sighed wistfully, her gaze drifting to the portrait of their mother that adorned the far wall of the room, a reminder of the grace and beauty that had once filled their lives.

Agnes’s heart ached for their loss. She reached out, placing a comforting hand over Harriet’s. “She would have been so proud today,” she offered softly, hoping to provide some solace.

“I did not realize Leslie knew about the old music,” Harriet carried on, her brow furrowed slightly in thought.

“I think she found the sheets recently,” Agnes recalled Leslie’s confession to Theodore in the drawing room, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper.

“No wonder she’s been overly secretive with her governess lately,” Harriet chuckled.

“Perhaps she helped them practice,” Agnes suggested, piecing together the little clues that pointed to the secretive preparations.

“I’ve always wanted to play Mother’s compositions. But I never had the heart for it,” Harriet began again, a little sheepishly, her fingers tracing the edge of her handkerchief. “Besides, Theodore wouldn’t have countenanced me bringing up those memories. I must confess I was quite shocked earlier when he joined in the performance.”

“We all were,” Agnes agreed.

“He’s been more tolerant of a lot lately,” Harriet observed thoughtfully, her gaze lingering on the flickering flames in the fireplace as she pondered Theodore’s recent changes. “Thankyou, Agnes,” she suddenly squeezed her hand in palpable gratitude, turning her attention back with a look that conveyed deep appreciation.

“Whatever for?” Agnes asked, her brow furrowed in mild surprise, puzzled by the sudden expression of thanks.

“More than you could ever know,” Harriet smiled back, her smile wavering as fresh tears brimmed in her eyes, hinting at the depth of her emotions. “Theodore could not stand Mother being mentioned in his presence, but tonight he played her music.”

Agnes recalled the other night he played, then left her abruptly when she asked questions. “He is still grieving, is he not?”

Harriet nodded. “Very much. I was five years old when she passed away, but Theo was sixteen. He loved her more than anything and spent every moment of his holiday with her. He was never the same after she died. He grew quieter, smiled less—unless he wanted to charm theton. I understand that he did not share a lot with you, but bear with him.”

“I understand his reluctance now, Harriet.”

She suddenly wrapped her arms around Agnes. “We are very fortunate to have you.”

“So am I, Harriet.” Agnes meant every word. Leslie and Harriet were her sisters now, and nothing was changing that. She might never have Theodore, but she had them, at least.

CHAPTER 34