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

In truth, her heart wasn’t in it.

Pendrizzick just wasn’t the same without Thomas.

Oh, it was a beautiful house still, and she was quite comfortably situated there. She could see herself finding moments of contentment and bliss within its walls or on its land and without much difficulty either.

But that contentment and bliss would not come for some time if she remained here alone. She was sure contentment would come eventually, but bliss…

That seemed reserved for one person and one alone.

Every morning, she wondered if he would arrive at Pendrizzick, returned to the man he had been when they were here before, ready to begin the rest of their lives with love as their focus.

Every evening, she resigned herself that he would not come and went to bed wondering if she had been mistaken in leaving London after all.

She had to stand by her decision, had to trust that her efforts would reap some reward. Even if it was her husband saying he could not live in Cornwall constantly but might make the occasional visit. At least she would have an answer to move forward with. She would not continue to hope in vain and would be able to adjust her life and expectations around the new reality.

It was the varying between extremes she could not stand.

Thomas loved her, she reminded herself. He loved her. She could not doubt his love, even if the manner in which he showed his love could be lacking. They would have to find their footing among the emotions in their hearts and the needs of the other. They needed to form a life together, not apart.

And if she needed to put distance between them to prove to him that was so, it would be worth it in the end. But when would he come?

She knew he would at some point; he would have to. The expression he had worn as she’d prepared to leave London had proven to her that he was not unfeeling and was, in fact, likely the opposite. But until he could resign himself to those emotions and how to live a life with them, she could not help him.

Much as she might want to.

“Lily, what would you think of adding an orangery to the place?” Julia called from the music room just beyond her present position.

Lily shook herself and moved into the room, frowning slightly. “An orangery? Where?”

Julia indicated a space through the window. “Just there. It would be easy enough, just adding to that face of the house, and it would connect to the gardens beautifully.”

Biting her lip, Lily nodded to herself, seeing, for the first time, what could be with Julia’s suggestions. “I do like that idea.” She turned to Mr. Morgan, the estate agent, who had been offering his opinions and advice as they had moved through the house. “Do you think it would be plausible for the house?”

“Certainly, Mrs. Granger,” he replied with a quick nod of his head. “I think Mrs. Roskelley’s idea is certainly worth exploring, and I could easily present you with architects capable of the task.”

“Excellent.” She found herself smiling slightly. “I’ll write to Mr. Granger and, if he agrees, ask him to meet with the solicitor about details.”

Mr. Morgan frowned a little, his brow creasing. “He would not need to do so, Mrs. Granger.”

“Of course he would,” she replied, confused by his statement. “There would be a great deal to arrange, and the house is his property, so he must be consulted and act on its behalf.”

“The house is your property, Mrs. Granger.”

It was as though the cold Cornish wind suddenly whipped through the house, stealing her breath and chilling her frame in its wake. Her mind spun yet did not manage to produce a single coherent thought.

She could only stare at Mr. Morgan in abject bewilderment, needing an explanation but unsure how to ask for one.

“Hers?” Julia’s voice rang through the room, and her quick steps echoed after. “What do you mean it is hers, Mr. Morgan?”

He looked at her, then back at Lily, clearly confused by their confusion. “The papers came to my office last week shortly after you returned. The house, the estate, and all on it, apart from the mine, are in your name, Mrs. Granger. Not your husband’s.”

Lily wet her lips carefully, the motion feeling slow and painful. “But… but he purchased it.”

“The sale is complete,” he confirmed with a nod. “Or is in the process of being completed, but the ownership has been transferred, and once it had been, it was transferred specifically to you. The authority to make changes to the house and estate lies with you, madam. The profits from the farms go to accounts in your name, and a large portion of the shares in Wheal Dandrea are now also in your name. Your husband remains chief shareholder there, but you also have shares, as mistress of Pendrizzick.”

If it was possible for one’s heart to heat and freeze at the same time, hers did so. It fluttered about her chest like a captive bird, yet somehow felt wrapped in a thick blanket gently warmed by a fire. She had been perfectly set up to be an independent woman of means, despite being a married woman whose husband was still living.

Was this a declaration of respect, or was this a perfect separation of their belongings? Was this a sign of encouragement for their future, or was he giving her all she would need to forever live apart and require little at his hand?

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Julia said in shock, her voice slightly muddled to Lily’s ears. “Is it legal?”

“Perfectly so. Uncommon, certainly, but there is no entail on Pendrizzick and no ties to any peerages. Therefore, the details of its ownership and care have very few stipulations.”

Lily swayed a little and grabbed Julia’s arm for support.

Mr. Morgan gave her a concerned look. “I apologize, Mrs. Ganger. Naturally, I thought you knew. I had no desire to upset or alarm you.