Page 80 of Once Upon a Reckless Rogue

He had packed his bag and bought a horse, and yet he wanted the night to never end. He wanted to rescue his mother and sister, and he wondered why they seemed so scared to return. From what the townspeople had said, the place had remained untouched, and no one else had been there.

Thomas watched as Elena stepped out of the bath and wrapped a towel around herself. There was something different about her, but he could not put his finger on it, and his thoughts soon returned to the problem at hand. He had scoured the house, hoping for some kind of clue as to what had happened here in the days before his mother had left.

Questioning the staff had not helped either. They all said the same thing. They were brought into the parlor and told that now that Thomas was dead, there were not enough funds to keep the house and so they were dismissing all the staff and moving away. It just did not fit his mother’s character.

It was disappointing that Elena put a nightgown on before coming to bed. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, just a little tired. I think all the dramas of the journey here are finally catching up with me.”

“Of course, it certainly has been quite a month.”

She crawled into his arms, and he pulled the covers over them. “You would tell me if there was something troubling you?”

“I would. I can tell you I will worry until you are back here with me, but you know that.”

“I’m sorry. I dragged you into my dangerous world and then coerced you to come to England promising you glass houses and happily ever after. I have failed in that promise.”

“I can wait for my glass house, Tomas. And my love for you is all I need to keep me happy.”

He kissed her forehead. “Well, that is a lie, but a kind one.”

“What do you think I need then?” she asked, looking up at him.

“A peaceful life, one where you never had to worry.”

“That is what one would like, not need,” she said. “I need my husband by my side. I need a house to keep me dry and warm. I need good food in my belly. I need no more than that. Life is full of worry, Tomas.”

“You are very wise, Mrs. Markham.” Thomas kissed her and looked up at the ceiling. He needed sleep, but his mind was full of thoughts and questions, and he couldn’t help but think that those French bastards from the road had something to do with all of this, but why would they hang around for so long once they had run off his mother?

Thomas reached his aunt’s house in Surrey in three days. He was dog-tired, but he decided to go straight to her house rather than spend the night at a hotel. Everyone had already gone to bed, but his aunt had ushered him into a bedroom, and he fell asleep with his clothes on. The next morning, a footman came up and shaved him; he had no valet. After he dressed in fresh clothes, someone escorted him to the parlor to wait for his mother and sister June. It was a bright, sunny room decorated with silk wallpaper in a light blue.

He was nervous. He did not want to upset his family, but if this was the only way to prove he was truly alive, then so be it. His aunt Linda’s voice penetrated the room.

“I have a surprise for both of you, and I hope this will ease your worry.” With that, the parlor doors opened. The three women waltzed in and stopped short.

“Hello, Mother, June.” His mother fainted, and he rushed over to her side. June just stood there, her mouth agape.

“I will get the smelling salts. I am sure they are in my sewing basket,” his aunt said as she fled the room.

“You are dead,” his sister said, sitting down heavily on the sofa, her bonnet crushed in her hands.

He grabbed a cushion and placed it under his mother’s head. “Clearly, I am not dead.”

“But…your finger.”

Thomas held up his hand with the missing digit. “Apparently, losing a finger does not equate to losing one’s life. Are you not happy to see me?”

“Of course I am, but we grieved you, Thomas. We were told…”

Just then, their aunt came back in with the smelling salts and waved them under his mother’s nose.

She came to with a start and grabbed his arm. “Is it really you?”

“Yes, Mother. It is really me.”

His mother pulled him towards her in an embrace far stronger than he imagined possible from such a petite woman. “Oh, my lord, thank you for bringing back my boy,” she said, hugging him again. “How is it that you are alive?” she asked, tears in her eyes.

“I was rescued by my wife,” he explained.