Something Old, Rebecca Connolly [ebook reader for laptop TXT] 📗

in whose arms he could find the surest relief. He could tell her anything and everything, could be fully himself in her company, and no longer felt the strain of distance that had permeated their marriage from the beginning.

They had shared a bed every night since the ball, and there were no words for the depth of feeling those nights provided. He would never be able to sleep without her beside him again, he was sure of it. Waking in the morning and watching her continue to sleep had become one of the quiet pleasures of his life, the time when he felt most grateful for his lot in life, for the change they had both endured, for the beautiful woman who had crossed his path all those years ago. He might even give thanks for his financial misfortune one day, if only for the prodding it gave him to make her his wife after all his hemming and hawing about the thing.

He should have done everything differently, but they were here now. He loved her more now than he had thought possible, more than he’d known he could love at all. He’d never felt the full measure of the man he wished to be until the last few days, and he could lay that transformation squarely at Lily’s feet.

How could he have known that in improving his marriage, in letting himself truly love his wife, he would find the truest part of himself?

The pair of them had taken advantage of their new, rather heady captivation with each other, spending their days in each other’s company at every moment despite already sharing the whole of the night together. Exploring every inch of the estate, riding their horses along Dandrea Beach, examining the books in the Pendrizzick library, and, perhaps Thomas’s favorite, practicing a collection of local folk songs on the pianoforte. Of course, Lily did the playing, he simply turned the pages and assisted with selection. And flirted shamelessly with his wife while she played.

It was as though they had taken their wedding trip suddenly, though they had been married for ages. What magic there had been in recent days! How long could such enchantment last?

They had previously set plans for themselves for today, which was why he was in the mine now, but it was likely better for them to have a little time apart. If for no other reason than to allow for the opportunity to miss one another.

For Thomas, the chance to work alongside the men in the mine was welcome, and thus far was doing him a world of good. To feel the dirt beneath his feet, to learn what the life of his workers entailed, to strip away more and more of the starched gentleman of leisure he had become. He could have been a man of business his entire life if he had let himself consider it in his younger years. He might have taken a more active role in his interests before this. If only he’d opened his eyes to see the opportunities there.

But he was seeing it now. He was finding his way now. He was happy in his relationship with his wife. He was happy with his business interests and more personally invested in those interests, not just financially. He was satisfied with the man he was and had hope for the future. He could not remember the last time he could say that about himself.

He chuckled as he brought the pick down hard against the rock before him, just as he had been taught, chunks of the tunnel falling down to the ground by his feet. He wasn’t going to check the pieces for signs of tin or copper yet, he’d leave that for more experienced eyes. But being able to slam the axe into the walls of the tunnel over and over was oddly satisfying, even in his present state of happiness. He couldn’t imagine how much it would help a man when he had frustrations that needed to be released.

“Laughter while you mine?” the voice of his neighbor asked in bemusement. “Either ye be mad, or ye be mad, which is it?”

Thomas grinned at the man, an equally dirt-streaked face looking back at him. “Well, I am the furthest thing from angry at the present, if that enlightens you. In fact, I am delighted to be here and utterly content with my life.”

The man blinked amid his dust-covered state. “Aye, ye be t’other mad, then, ain’t no mistake.”

Laughing fully now, Thomas set his axe down. “Come now, Arscott. You’re captain of this productive mine. Are you telling me that you do not find satisfaction in occasionally joining your men and getting your hands dirty, rather than always dealing with the business aspect of it?”

“One can be satisfied without laughing his head off in the bowels of the earth,” Arscott pointed out dryly. “’Tis a sign of an ill mind, I make no bones about it.”

Thomas shrugged and bent to scoop up his rock pieces, placing them in the cart nearby for sending up to the surface. “You’ll not put me off of my current happiness, man. I was raised to be a man of leisure, and you have no idea how tedious that can be. A man wishes to act, you know. To exert himself in some way, and a gentleman does not have such an opportunity.”

“If ye be lookin’ for sympathy here, sir, ye’d best look away, or ye’ll be sorely disappointed.”

“I am not saying it does not have its advantages,” Thomas replied, holding his hands up in surrender. “But I believe there is a reason that gentlemen get themselves in trouble with gaming and whoring and the like. Racing recklessly, compromising respectable young women, wasting their family’s fortunes… All from a lack of meaningful action in his life, mark my words.”

Arscott seemed to consider that, though skepticism was rife in his countenance. “Useful occupation will keep a man to himself, there’s no mistake. But I’d fall