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Chapter Twenty-Three

Grim

G rim walked Serena’s family to the front door, his heart slightly aching at the hurt he had seen on her face.

Her mother stopped at the threshold and turned to face him. “You must think I’m a terrible mother.”

“I’m just a scholar passing by, Mrs. Rose,” he replied. “It shouldn’t matter what I think.”

To his surprise, the older woman rolled her eyes. “Do credit me with some knowledge, Mr. Grim. I might not read like my daughter and sister, but I know people. I saw how you looked at my daughter the minute you stepped into the house, and I also know she feels the same about you.”

“Mrs. Rose, I—”

She waved away his protests, which was a good thing, because he had no clue what he’d been about to say.

“I know my daughter thinks the worst of me, and it’s not entirely her fault,” she said with a wry smile. “Especially after what you just witnessed. But despite what she thinks, I do trust her choices, and if she has chosen you, I have no objection.”

If Grim were a stupid man, he would point out that Serena’s mistrust might have something to do with the fact that her mother clearly disagreed with most of daughter’s life choices.

But Grim was not, in fact, a stupid man, and so instead he said: “Might I ask why you’re asking her to return? She’s clearly happier here.”

Mrs. Rose sighed and stepped out into the garden, Garrett in tow. She looked around it, and seemed to be lost in thought before she turned back to him.

“My daughter thinks her aunt was a saint. And I understand why, truly I do. She understood Serena in a way I never quite could. However, I was Maeve’s sister, and no one loved her or knew her more than I did.

It was not just her duty that kept her in this cottage; my sister simply chose to shut herself in because it was easier to deal with books rather than people.

I saw the look on Maeve’s face when she first held Serena in her arms after she was born.

She fell in love with my daughter right there and then, but she was so used to not letting people in, she withdrew nonetheless.

It was I who took Serena to go see her after years of asking Maeve to visit us.

I suppose you know what happened next,” she said with a slightly bitter smile.

“The two of them took to each other like a house on fire, and I felt like there was no more room for me in the middle.”

She looked at Grim earnestly. “The Larke family duty does not involve becoming a hermit, and that’s what I want Serena to understand. Unfortunately, as you saw, I am terrible at getting my point across.”

“Serena is stronger than you think,” he said, politely.

“She will venture out into the world when she’s ready but on her terms. You want her to go out and carouse and meet other young people, but she wants something more meaningful than that.

When she finds it, nothing will hold her back, not the cottage, not the memory of her aunt, and with all due respect, not your protests. ”

“I like him,” announced Garrett who had been listening silently so far. “He understands her streak of insanity, which means I no longer have to keep chasing her down for you.”

“What my son means, Mr. Grim,” said the man’s mother with a sharp look at him, “is that for now, we leave Serena in your care. She needs someone like you around her, and I hope you let her know her family will always be waiting for her when she’s ready.

Although it might take a while for her to forgive me. ”

A shadow passed over her face, and Grim took pity on her.

“You have no reason to worry about Serena, Mrs. Rose, I’ll take care of her. ”

The older woman nodded, and then with a sardonic raise of her eyebrows she said, “Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I am all right with the two of you living under one roof.”

She laughed at the arrested look on his face, and he was struck by how it made her look exactly like her daughter.

They had the same bright green eyes, and he suspected that under her pink hair, Serena had the same pale blonde hair as well.

Taking her son’s arm in hers then, she walked toward the gate, and very soon disappeared into the woods.

He found Serena sitting with the letter still in her lap, unopened. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, knowing that she probably did not want him to say anything right now.

“I was angry at her—at Aunt Maeve.” she whispered.

“She had been ill for a while, but she kept pretending like she was not. And then suddenly she was gone, and I had nothing to hold on to. No goodbye note, nothing. To know that she wrote me a letter,” she choked out, “I feel horrible for resenting her.”

“Maybe you should open that letter, then.” said Grim gently, “and find out what she wanted to tell you.”