It had been almost three weeks since Beth had found John at the Humphrey's front door. At some point during that time, they had all become emotionally invested in the stranger's recovery. From the doorway of the room, Thomas Thorne watched the Humphrey family as they watched the patient swing his legs down from the bed. The injured leg was still in a brace, making the movement cumbersome, but no one moved to help him. Like a baby bird emerging from its shell that could not be disturbed.
Once upright, the crutch bearing his body weight in lieu of his damaged leg, John immediately asked to go outside. His eagerness was met with claps and hoots of laughter from the Humphreys, and Matthew went so far as to slap him across the shoulder. A movement which almost sent the man toppling and ruined the moment before it had even properly begun.
They were all unusual people, Thomas decided, to be so... Kind? Compassionate? He wasn't sure what the word was.
He realised he was frowning when his gaze met Vincent's. The man was looking at him evenly, the only other person in the room not watching John take his first few staggered steps, and his gaze was so intense that Thomas had the urge to cover up. Instead, he let his easy smile slide into place, clutching a hand to his chest and feigning emotion.
"Oh, I feel like a proud mother hen!"
Matt was the only one who laughed.
With a shake of her head, Beth moved towards the door, shepherding Thomas, Matt and Vincent out ahead of her. John followed after, moving with the infinite patience of a man who knew how painful it would be to fall, and then the remainder of the Humphrey siblings filed out. Phil was practically bouncing, her steps surely outnumbering John's ten to one as she zipped back and forth gleefully.
"Phil, be careful!" Beth cautioned, watching in alarm as the little girl's feet danced around the precariously balanced man.
She was not alone in her concern. Next time she passed him, Bart swung out an arm, catching her around the waist and upending her over his shoulder effortlessly. Phil erupted in giggles, thrashing too and fro in a weak escape attempt. Beth shook her head, smiling; it was beyond understanding how this same child read medical journals for fun.
Though John was slow moving, the only difficulty he encountered was the few steps off their portico. Here, he accepted Simon's shoulder, keeping his balance as he hopped his way down. Then he stopped still. And breathed.
"I can't say with certainty," he said after a long minute, "but I doubt I've ever been this happy to be outside in my life!"
The others laughed and smiled, and Beth drew her hands to her heart, trying to hold the warmth that had blossomed. John turned slowly – disjointedly – surveying their house and driveway. Beth tried to see what he saw.
The Germaine Estate was old, but very well kept. The manor was constructed from a beige stone, with thick columns stretching from the portico to the top of the second story. Almost every second metre of the front façade bore a window, and as a light breeze picked up the curtains billowed elegantly.
The wind picked at Beth's hair, snatching a few wisps free and throwing them at her eyes. She rotated slightly, using the breeze to her advantage to tuck the strands back behind her ears, and coming face to face with the entrance to the gardens. Her gardens. From where she stood, all she could see was the iron archway that had the beginnings of an ivory vine wrapping around it.
Whether she moved or John did, they were standing side by side.
"What's through there?" he asked quietly, bobbing his head at the arch.
"The gardens."
She could feel his eyes on her. Eventually he moved forward, hobbling away from her. "Where are you going?"
"The gardens."
Beth caught her skirts and ran to catch up.
"Do you come out here often?" John asked as he passed beneath the arch.
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Though he could have no way of knowing it, she'd spent more time in the gardens this last week with Lord Pendrake than she had since they were constructed. She swallowed and decided not to mention that.
"I try to." Even if her breath hitched on the words, John didn't notice. He was looking around in awe.
"This is beautiful!"
Pride bubbled in Beth's chest. Each garden in this area was encircled by a low hedge which acted as a fence to keep the flowers within from overflowing. The multitude of colours was bright – almost too much, but somehow not.
"Thank you."
There was something in her tone, some level of ownership, that made him look at her more closely. "Did you do this?"
Beth frowned delicately. "Do you doubt I could?"
John just smiled at her and moved further along the path. The stones were a difficult surface for the crutch to balance on, and he moved even more carefully than before. After a long silence, he turned back to her. "I don't doubt it for a moment."
Beth suddenly felt as if she were taking too much credit. "I hardly did it alone! In truth, I played the smallest role; just talking and listening and putting the right people together. It's difficult to explain..." She remembered the exact same conversation she'd had with Lord Pendrake, and her mouth moved before she had time to stop it. "I guess it sounds silly when I say it aloud."
"Hey!" The reprimand was soft, but Beth still looked up at him abruptly. John was frowning at her. "People believe that stone or glass are the hardest materials to work with, but they're wrong. People are the most challenging. Don't talk your accomplishment down just because someone else might not understand it!"
The warmth made a sudden reappearance in her chest. John tossed his head at the garden again, encouraging her to catch up to him. "Come and show me your favourite part."
Her daily routine adapted now that John was mobile. In the mornings, Beth walked the gardens with Lord Pendrake, and in the afternoons, she and John meandered out to the swing to read. Every time he emerged from the house was like the first time again, and he basked in the soft glow of the sun. Beth had offered to move him to a room with windows, they had plenty of guest rooms to spare, but he declined. Those rooms were all on the second floor, and as he found the three steps at the front of the house challenging enough, he didn't want to traipse the grand staircase every day as well.
Truth be told, Beth quite liked these days. They were very pleasant.
What she didn't like was having no one to speak to about them! Her cousins were in the throes of wedding planning and she didn't dare tell her aunts about her... friendship... with John. And as for all of her so-called friends! They were all newlyweds or were pregnant or had newborns. Beth couldn't bring herself to intrude on their happiness with her petty... feelings.
She made the mistake of complaining about it one too many times to Matt, who eventually snapped. "If you have need of a new friend, go and make one then!" he threw back the last of his brandy, slamming the glass down with a little too much force. "I'm going to town. I'll find some of my own friends at the club."
Beth ignored his outburst. "Is this the club you share with Thomas Thorne?" she asked curiously.
Her younger brother paused in the doorway. "No. Why do you ask?" He was looking over his shoulder with a frown. He almost looked... concerned? It was a foreign emotion on his face.
His sister was startled. "Uh... n-no reason?" She didn't intend it to be a question. "I was just wondering where you had met him."
The twinkle reappeared in his eye. "I told you, I can add him to the list if you want?"
It was Beth's turn to glare. "Oh, go away."
Left alone, she considered what he'd said earlier: perhaps she could seek out a new friend?
.
It was Bart who she convinced to accompany her to town the next day. Not because she had any overwhelming powers of persuasion, but because he had business to attend to anyway. She didn't mind; she was just glad to have a travelling companion. The village nearest them serviced all of the estates in the surrounds, including their cousins' and aunts' homes, with a butcher, blacksmith and even a dress shop. They rarely had cause to travel further, and as the town was more than an hours trip by coach, they often made do nearer to home. Simon and Bart were the most likely to make the journey, meeting with lawyers and accountants to help manage their estates. Just as Bart was doing that day.
About halfway through the journey, Beth lowered her book to her lap, suddenly sick of the companionable silence.
"Bart?"
He grunted an acknowledgement, head buried in the paper he was reading.
Beth's eyes narrowed. "Bart."
Her brother sighed and folded the paper away. Crossing his arms, he shuffled slightly in his seat, trying to get comfortable in a space that was not designed for a man of his size. His legs were as outstretched as they were able, cutting diagonally across the carriage to almost get tangled in her skirts. Her own feet were resting on the seat opposite her; not ladylike, but affording him a little extra space. The least he could do was speak with her.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes Beth?"
"What do you think of Lord Pendrake?" In truth, Beth hadn't known she was going to ask that particular question, and there was more surprise on her own face than his. Not that Bart was prone to showing emotion. If she had to assign each of her brothers an animal, Bart would be a chameleon. He could turn from quiet and assessing to loquacious and personable at the flick of a switch.
Simon would be a dog.
Vincent would be a mouse.
And Matthew? Matthew would be a weasel.
Her brother chameleon, unaware of the happenings in her brain, considered her question carefully. "I do not know him well enough to answer properly."
"But you were at school with him? Along with Simon?"
Bart nodded. "I was, but he was Simon's year. I didn't have much to do with him. I never heard anything to raise concern; in fact, if I remember rightly, he was quite well liked by both teachers and students."
Beth absorbed that in silence.
"I think the more important question," her brother said after a long pause, "is 'what do you think of Lord Pendrake?'"
Beth's hand moved to cup the sudden warmth in her cheek. He wasn't prying – in fact, it was more of a statement than a question – but she still felt awkward. "I quite like him," she all but whispered, her gaze fixed on her lap, where her other hand worried at a loose thread in her skirt. "And he has been quite attentive."
Bart's only response was a grunt.
.
By 10 o'clock, the Humphrey siblings were being escorted into a foreign parlour by a rigid butler who had not so much as blinked at their arrival.
"The Earl of Hurst, and Lady Elizabeth Humphrey," he announced in what Beth almost considered a bored tone. She blinked at him, slightly affronted.
Bart's hand on her back nudged her gently into the room, giving him space to step up beside her and offer a slight bow.
"Good morning Baroness Evlington, Lady Greer." Bart had once again pinned his sociable smile to his face, appearing by all means an amiable young man.
Not to be outdone, Beth smiled delicately.
The two women in the room rose quickly. Baroness Evlington was a diminutive, blonde woman who looked more than a little startled to have a pair of Humphrey siblings in her home. Her shock turned critical as she ran her gaze over Bart, as any responsible mother would when an eligible bachelor was in sight. When she met their eyes, she was smiling happily.
"Good morning Earl Hurst, Lady Elizabeth. It's such an unexpected pleasure to see you today."
Greer nodded in agreement. She was taller and wider than her mother, but there was a sincerity in her eyes that was unmatched. That was why Beth had come.
Bart accepted that with a tilt of his head. And then promptly excused himself. "I'm afraid my visit will be unpardonably brief this morning; I have business in the city and am acting merely as my sister's escort." Quickly, he turned to Beth. "I'll meet you at my solicitor's office this afternoon." Just as quickly, back to the Evlingtons. "My apologies ladies, but I must dash off. Have a lovely day."
Baroness Evlington offered quite the protest, but Bart simply bowed and smiled and promised vaguely to visit again soon. The older woman was obviously put out after he departed, and almost as soon as she'd taken a seat, indicating a chair for Beth, she was on her feet again, declaring her intention to go and check something with the housekeeper.
Beth tried not to take it personally.
It did work out in her favour, as after less than five minutes in the Evlington house she was sitting alone with Greer. The girl appeared quite unfazed by her mother's flitting, and sat simply in her yellow day dress with her hands clasped in her lap. In the morning light, her hair had an almost reddish tinge to it, but other than that she seemed exactly as Beth remembered her.
Excellent.
"I'm so terribly sorry to pop in on you without warning, Lady Greer," she said. Truthfully, she was a little bit embarrassed to have come calling without sending word, but Matt's suggestion had been so excellent – a rarity with that particular brother – that she couldn't get the idea out of her mind, not even long enough to write a missive.
"Please!" The younger girl said, almost interrupting Beth as she threw up her hands to cut her off. "I'm so happy you've come. I really enjoyed speaking with you at the Quentin ball."
Beth beamed. "As did I!" she shuffled forward in her chair, fighting the urge to lean bodily towards Greer. "Lady Greer..."
This time the girl did cut her off, though only to insist that Beth call her Greer. Beth returned the insistence and then continued.
"Greer, I was hoping we might be friends." It was a little blunt, but it would do.
To her credit, Greer's eyebrow only twitched slightly. Her smile only widened. "I would like that very much. It's so nice to meet another who isn't obsessed with knowing the latest fashions or eyeing the most eligible gentlemen or rushing into marriage!"
Beth froze. She tried to remember what she and Greer had discussed at the ball, but she'd been so nervous to meet potential suitors that night that she could barely recall a thing! They'd been introduced by a mutual acquaintance, recently married and pairing up her single friends as if having that alone in common was sufficient for friendship. Greer had complimented Beth's dress, Beth had complimented Greer's hair, and then they had discussed... For the life of her, Beth couldn't remember. All she knew was that she had enjoyed the conversation and Greer's sweet but firm disposition.
Whilst her memory reeled, all Beth managed to say aloud was, "Oh."
Greer must have noticed her tone. "Uh, but... If you'd like to discuss any of those topics I am more than agreeable! I just meant... I didn't mean to imply..." She took a deep breath, releasing it as a quick huff of air and an embarrassed smile. "Dresses or gentlemen?"
Beth was already shaking her head. "No, truly, if you'd like to discuss something else, then I am more than happy! I promise you, I'd like to be friends for more reasons than 'dresses or gentlemen'." She couldn't help but blush at the blunt phrasing.
Now Greer was shaking her head. "No, really! I'd be so pleased to discuss whatever brought you here today." A small sparkle entered her eye, and she pursed her lips to hide a smile. "I would guess it's not a dress."
Beth felt the heat rush to her cheeks and couldn't stop her hands from following.
The other girl laughed, a deep, genuine laugh that tilted her head back from force, but when she looked back to Beth there was no maliciousness, only mirth. "Oh, do tell Beth!"
She needed no further encouragement. Rising quickly from her chair, she moved across the room and took a seat on the settee beside Greer, leaning their heads close together and lowering her voice. "I'm sure you've heard about the man staying with us who has lost his memories? Well he and I have struck up a, uh, friendship." Thankfully, Beth's blush couldn't deepen any further, even when Greer raised her brow. "It's all quite innocent-" Beth wasn't sure Greer believed her "- but there's another gentleman who has taken to calling and, well, I can't help but compare them!"
Looking far older than her eighteen years, Greer nodded sagely. "And the gentleman comes up wanting?"
"No!" Beth dipped her head awkwardly. "Well, yes, perhaps a little. They are very different people though." She sunk back into her corner of the chair, her posture slouching in a most unladylike manner. "I don't know what to do about the gentleman."
Her new friend copied her posture, a frown of concentration etched on her face as she clasped her hands in her lap. "Do you like him?"
Beth took a deep breath and thought of Pendrake's handsome features, ready laugh, and twinkling eyes. "Yes."
Greer nodded once again, and then just sat there, lips pressed together tightly. Beth glanced back towards the door, worried that someone else might have entered; they were still alone. She looked back at the younger girl, now also frowning gently. The moment dragged on.
"Oh, sorry." Greer started suddenly. "I didn't realise you were fi – Well, that's good! Liking is good..." She paused again, mouth moving slightly without sound coming out. "I'm sorry Beth – I don't know quite how to help. I've not had much experience with men."
Beth smiled slightly, almost sympathetically. "I'm having much the same problem..."
The silence returned, not quite uncomfortable, but heavy with unanswerable questions.
Greer edged towards her slightly, reaching out to gently clasp Beth's forearm. She gave it a squeeze. "What do you need to hear from me?" She expanded before Beth could manage her frown. "I mean – sometimes we just need to hear something said out loud, and not just let it rattle around our heads. Is there something I can say or do that can help you right now?"
Beth thought that offer was very sweet. And, importantly, very helpful. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly to look inside herself, to find what she needed to hear, the answer to what was troubling her most... She needn't have looked so hard – the question bubbled to the surface almost instantly.
"I think I need..." she began slowly, her gaze fixed on the carpet in front of them. "...someone to tell me that I'm being sensible. That I am making the right choice; charming and appropriate over gentle and impossible!"
Greer gave her arm another squeeze. Beth looked up and was surprised to see she looked almost apologetic. "Perhaps I should have asked more about your question before I promised..." She took a quick breath and smiled. "Yes, you are being sensible. Marriage needs to be sensible."
Her cheek twitched.
Beth's frown returned. "Then why do you look so pained?"
She winced. "Well, I..." Greer sighed. She spoke with a shrug, "Marriage needs to be sensible. But, perhaps love requires a certain amount of... insensibility?"