Things were very much as her new guardian had suggested they might be.
The king officially made James her guardian and he seemed quite content to let her do what she wished with his support. The whole matter was wrapped up neatly.
She continued to be swamped with attention. She felt uncomfortable and the seemingly endless supply of eligible rich and titled young men suddenly paraded before her only made her feel more awkwardly exposed.
Where were they when Francine was stealing her will?
Well, her wicked aunt had clearly kept them away, but that was hardly the point.
Wildwood was released from captivity in the healing ward a week after she had been. She spent as much time with him as she could manage but there always seemed to be someone with them.
Theresa felt nearly back to her old self. With the aid of the healers her leg was practically as good as new. She took to riding again, but even there she never seemed to be alone. There was constantly someone fussing over her wellbeing or trying to capture her favor.
How did Daphne endure the constant care and attention she received? Theresa's little taste of it was truly overwhelming. She understood and appreciated that people were trying to help, but she also needed just a bit of room to breathe, did she not?
She longed to be away from the royal castle and the capital, somewhere she would be away from the persistent eyes and the constant noise. What she needed was peace and quiet and solitude now that she no longer needed to be afraid of the threat of Francine.
Wildwood's health was swiftly returning. Daphne and Thomas announced that they would leave soon for Harding. They would travel with Wildwood as far as his estates and then would continue on to their own after seeing Wildwood settled. Mister Allendale and Jim would travel with them as well.
With her closest friends and family leaving, Theresa decided that she would leave as well. She could return to Waldwick and take control of what was her own. The idea of control pleased her, as did her imminent escape from all the clingy busybodies infesting the capital like fleas in a cat's fur.
* * * * *
Theresa was hiding in the library after she had managed to escape from a hoard of supposed admirers who did not know her at all.
She was not at all hoping that someone familiar might find her there.
Her journey was planned for the next day and her sister was departing the day after. All the arrangements were made. Theresa had decided to leave before they did because she simply did not want to be sitting around the castle without Daphne or Wildwood for company.
The trouble was she did not want to leave at all. Or rather, leave alone.
She sighed. It was all so troublesome.
"Oh, here you are."
"Good afternoon, Daphne."
"You look rather grim," Daphne pointed out.
"Thank you," she returned dryly.
"May I speak frankly?"
"You always do lately."
"I think you should stop moping around and just talk to him," Daphne suggested.
Theresa turned her head away and straightened her back. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Yes, you do. You're upset because you don't want to be away from Lord Wildwood."
"That's nonsense. I'm just sad because I'm going to miss you."
Daphne crossed her arms. "No, that's the real nonsense. You're just being stubborn. You should just talk to him."
Theresa just scowled and stared at the book in her lap until Daphne left. She really did not need her little sister giving her unsolicited advice.
* * * * *
Theresa was unbearably miserable for the rest of the day. She went to bed that night and slept restlessly. She woke early to a sky full of clouds. Shortly thereafter it began to rain. It was the worst possible weather for travel but the most fitting weather for her mood.
"Perhaps you should delay your travel," Daphne suggested.
Theresa ignored her. She would carry through on her plans and a little water would not stop her. It was not as if she was still a cat who hated the substance.
The queen also suggested that it would be wise to wait another day. Her escort could be easily delayed. Theresa stood firm.
She did not even find a chance to talk to Wildwood alone, although she frequently saw him and they made polite conversation.
She supposed if he wanted to talk to her, he would have found a way.
But he did not.
She could take a hint. She would be content in that they both survived and that she was finally free.
Everything was ready and Theresa went outside and got into the carriage which would take her to Waldwick.
To her home, she supposed, although it scarcely felt like it.
She pulled back into her cloak and she felt sad. She should be feeling happy and triumphant that her inheritance was her own, finally and that she did not have a single spell upon her any longer.
She felt the coach move forward and she curled up on the seat in her cloak. The coach looked oddly large when she was alone inside it.
She could feel tears threatening to spill and she forced them back. She had things to do and a life to live. She could not keep wasting time at the royal castle, socializing and being useless.
She would learn to run her own estate far better than Francine had ever done.
The landscape appeared grey and boring through the rain, as if she still had the eyes of a cat. The carriage continued to get stuck in ruts in the mud and the driver and guards had to work to keep them moving.
"There's an inn up ahead. Could we please stop there for the night, my lady?" the carriage driver suggested hopefully.
She was sick of travelling already anyway. "Very well," she agreed.
The carriage driver arranged everything and she retired to a private chamber to wait for the rain to stop. The maid that she had borrowed from the queen helped her change and then left the room. Theresa sat on a chaise in front of the fire. She put her feet up.
There was a loud knock on the door. She had not ordered anything brought up for her. She did not feel like dealing with anyone, so she did not answer. Let them think she slept.
The knocking came again, more insistently.
"Go away," she muttered under her breath.
"Damn it, Lady Theresa!"
It couldn't be. Theresa rushed to the door and opened it.
He stood there, dripping wet and looking irritated and miserable.
And perhaps angry. She seemed to be the only one with the ability to make him lose his temper.
Still, she could not imagine why he was so disgruntled, when she felt so much lighter just seeing him standing before her.
"There are still matters unresolved. Don't you have something to say to me?" he demanded.
"Whatever are you talking about, Wildwood? Well, I guess I never thanked you properly for all you've done for me," she said, deciding that a good show of gratitude might divert him from whatever he was annoyed about.
She did not really want to fight with him now that she had been granted a few more minutes with him.
"You've been avoiding me," Wildwood accused, looking even less happy.
"No, I haven't," she protested. "I don't know why you would suggest such a thing."
"You told me you wouldn't run away again, but here you are, doing just that."
"I was hardly running away. You knew I was leaving. You were leaving tomorrow, too, I might remind you. What are you even doing here? Did you ride here? That was rather foolish, don't you think? It's raining and you're still unwell. What if you had gotten hurt?"
He scowled. "Not any more foolish than taking a carriage out in this weather. Imagine my surprise when I discovered you were already gone."
"I can do what I please."
"No, actually you can't."
Theresa frowned, feeling the stirrings of her temper.
She had already been more than patient. She there was no reason for him to take is pique out on her and she did not want to deal with his mood, nor would she be pushed around. "I can do anything that I choose to."
"No, I'm weary of your stubborn foolhardiness. You run away constantly, even when you're not actually moving. And when you're not running away from me, you're running headlong into danger. I heard how you challenged Francine's man after he stabbed me and I told you to run. You could have been killed."
"And what does that matter? I wasn't," she snapped.
"Only by purest chance. And then the same with Francine," he snapped.
"Perhaps I'm tired of being pushed around. And that includes you!" she growled back.
His face suddenly could have been made of solid stone. "I apologize for pushing you around, then. If you'll excuse me," he said, as he turned to leave.
"Who's running now?" she asked, not willing to let him get away from this situation he caused so easily. She was not going to allow him to just appear out of nowhere to start a fight and then just disappear again back into the storm. And he called her reckless? What hypocrisy.
If he wanted a fight they would have a fight. "You talk about me running, but I think you're doing the same thing. What are you running from, Wildwood?"
He whipped around and stared at her. "You're right."
He paused for a long moment before continuing.
"I've never been good with certain words."
"You manage fine. You're no worse than I."
He grinned a bit at her response. "True enough."
She should have been annoyed that he was laughing at her but she was more surprised by his seemingly random mood swings. It was so unlike his usual calm demeanor.
"Why don't you sit down and dry off? Do you even have a change of clothing?"
"No."
"And you claim I'm foolhardy." She forced herself not to smile.
"Perhaps we both are."
"I would say you're worse than I am," she opined.
He ignored her comment. "I did not know you were leaving today until you were already gone."
"I assumed Her Majesty would have told you."
"Why didn't you at least say farewell? I thought we've been through enough that you would not leave again without saying anything."
Theresa swallowed. "I suppose... It seemed too sad."
"Well, I found I couldn't allow that. I know that it is not my place to—"
"It's fine. Why don't you sit by the fire and get warm?"
He ignored her suggestion.
"Influence your decisions but I find—," he continued.
Theresa sighed, "It's not my fault if you get sick," she muttered.
He spoke slightly louder in an attempt to forestall her interruptions, "That I don't want to let you go," he said slowly and she felt a warm feeling that had nothing to do with the fire or magic sweep through her.
She looked away from him, at the fire. Her cheeks felt hot but not because of the flames.
"Lady Theresa?" he asked without his typical self assurance. "If you want me to leave, you only have to say the word."
She forced herself to respond. "Maybe I'd prefer it if you didn't."
"Maybe?"
"Maybe I don't want you to leave." She swallowed hard, still not looking at him.
He closed the distance between them and turned her face to look at him.
"Marry me, Theresa."
"Me, really? You're sure you don't mean Daphne?" she asked, her mind circling uselessly through their time together.
"Daphne?" he repeated, sounding stunned as if he could not fathom what she could possibly be thinking. "What are you talking about?"
"I overheard you talking with the queen," Theresa confessed. "She was trying to convince you to tell her about your feelings, not let her go."
Wildwood looked annoyed with her again. "Your eavesdropping will be the death of me."
"I can't help my curiosity. I likely spent too much time as a cat."
"For someone who was so upset I violated your secrets, you have a pretty low regard for mine."
He was right, she was acting the utter hypocrite. Theresa turned her head away. "You're right. I am sorry, Lord Wildwood."
"I don't believe you," he said flatly. "And you're running again, instead of giving me my answer."
She swallowed and turned to scowl at him.
She heard him pull in an exasperated breath. "My cousin has been mounting a campaign of harassment to get me to offer for your hand, not your sister's."
She glared. "So you're proposing because the queen forced you to?"
Wildwood scowled. "No, I'm proposing, because I want you to be my wife. If I was doing it to merely silence my cousin, I would have asked you the day we arrived in the capital. I think, perhaps if you marry me, you'll stop running away from me," he said flatly.
She sighed. "Why now?"
"It was hardly fair to propose when you were relying on me to maintain your human form and protect you from your aunt, Theresa."
Well, there was something pleasing about his honorable reasoning, she realized.
"And don't agree if you feel nothing more for me than gratitude. I don't need or want it. If nothing more is possible then I will not trouble you any longer."
She watched him, trying to think of an adequate response.
He moved away from her. "I'll give you time to consider."
He opened the door and was about to leave. Without really thinking, she stepped forward and grabbed his sleeve. He looked back at her, his dark eyes as unfathomable as ever.
"Don't go, please," she said.
"You're not playing fair," he commented.
She had no idea what he was talking about. "Yes."
"I'm glad you can admit that, although I would have imagined you would be too stubborn—"
"I meant yes, I'll marry you, Wildwood. And I'm hardly stubborn."
He laughed and he caught her in his arms and kissed her and it felt like the most delightful spell all throughout her body. She realized he was soaking her, but she found she really could not have cared less.
He broke his mouth away from hers. "I love you, Theresa."
"I love you, too."
She smiled and kissed him again. She felt happy enough to purr.
And they lived happily ever after.
Eventually.