Alexis was seated in the arbor at Goldenhurst, relaxing, reading a fashion magazine. But she put it down after a few moments and sat back. Gazing around the garden she realized, yet again, how lovely it was on this balmy June afternoon. And peaceful.
She smiled inwardly, remembering Sebastian’s words … listening to the silence. How happy she was she had started to come here, sometimes only for Saturday and Sunday. Sometimes for a whole week … And all of her visits were restorative, gave her comfort.
She sighed to herself, thinking how resistant she had been at first. She had come back to London in March. Because she knew she could, in the sense that she was in better health and was functioning in her usual way, quite normally.
She was not the same person, though. There was sadness deep inside, and she had become more reflective, but she had gone back to work, on a part-time basis. A few weeks after her return, she had started to see her dearest friends: Claudia and Cornelius, and Lord Reggie and Lady Jane, who mourned the loss of Sebastian as she did.
In May, once she felt more settled, she had resumed her visits to Haven House in Whitechapel with Claudia, although not always on Wednesdays, but whenever she was in London and available. She also spent time with her father and had invited him to stay with her in Kent, which he had enjoyed. Mostly she came alone.
Goldenhurst belonged to her! Lock, stock, and barrel, as Lord Reggie had termed it. There were moments now and then when she still couldn’t quite believe it, or how it had been done, with the utmost attention to the legal details. Sebastian had made sure there could be no misunderstandings about what he wanted on anybody’s part.
Claudia had told her about Sebastian’s will and that he had left Goldenhurst to her. It was Lord Reggie who had given her the inside story, as he called it.
According to Lord Reginald, on the day they had become engaged and Sebastian had given her the emerald engagement ring, he had written three letters. One to Reggie, another to his sister Thea, and a third to his solicitor.
Each letter was more or less the same, if couched in certain language appropriate for the recipient. Basically, he had written that he had become engaged to her, given her an emerald engagement ring, and was the happiest man in the world. They would be married at the end of the summer.
But then there had been an interesting statement. He had told the three of them that he was leaving Goldenhurst Farm, the other buildings on the 139 acres, plus the contents of the farmhouse, to his fiancée, Miss Alexis Malvern.
In the letters he had told them that he would be visiting his solicitor as soon as he returned to London, that the bequest would be made there and then, included in his current will, and signed that very day.
“But why did he leave it to me before we were married?” she had asked Lord Reggie.
“Obviously he wanted you to have Goldenhurst whether you were married to him or not,” Reginald had answered. “He once told me that the girls weren’t really interested in it, that only you loved it the way he did.” Lord Reginald then confided, “You must understand that Sebastian could do whatever he wanted with Goldenhurst. He had bought it with his own money. It was not part of the Trevalian estate.”
Lord Reginald had nodded his head vehemently, his voice firm. “He meant you to have it, married to him or not. And you must accept this bequest to honor him, to honor his wishes.”
That day she had been hardly able to respond to Sebastian’s best friend, who had lately appointed himself her unofficial protector. Her heart had been full, and incipient tears had gleamed in her eyes. Reginald had then explained that Sebastian had also created a trust to pay for the maintenance of the farmhouse and the land throughout her lifetime.
He had ended this conversation by saying he would go to Kent with her to pay her first visit to Goldenhurst if she so wished. If she needed the support.
In the end, she had gone alone, not sure what her reactions would be. After the first few moments of warm greetings from Broadbent and Mrs. Bellamy, and a few tears shared, they had led her inside. Once in the house, she had experienced a sudden and unexpected lightness of spirit, a lift, even a little joy. She knew that his spirit was there. And later, when she went walking around the old farmhouse, looking in rooms and closets, he remained with her. Memories surrounded her. And they comforted her.
It was in March that Lady Jane had given birth to identical twin boys, and everyone, including Jane herself, wondered how they would know which one was which. Their names were Sebastian and Keir, and Alexis had agreed to be godmother to Sebastian. She had attended the christenings of the twins and had been relaxed about it.
Now, looking back to those early months, she admitted they had been made possible by Dr. Sigmund Freud. Her long stay of six months had been worth it.
Slowly he had made her well, by urging her to face her grief, and every aspect of it, from sorrow and loss, anger and guilt, to acceptance that Sebastian was dead.
There had been a lot of talking and mediation and even hypnosis, but eventually his treatments had brought her back to the real world. Aunt Thea had been her rock and had stayed with her in Vienna for the entire time.
Her father had visited Vienna, and Claudia and Cornelius, too, and even Lavinia and Marietta had come. They had given her love and encouragement. And they had grieved together at times. She knew it was perfectly all right for her to grieve for Sebastian, because Dr. Freud had told her it was normal to miss him, long for him.
It was because of the doctor that she had found the courage to do something else at the end of April. One sunny but cool morning she had asked Broadbent to make a bonfire in the place he normally used to burn leaves and dead branches in the autumn. He did so without asking why.
As soon as the bonfire was aflame, Alexis had gone outside, carrying a large white box. Broadbent had hurried to meet her, taking it from her, and had asked what was in it.
“My wedding gown,” she had told him. “It was made for him, for Mr. Sebastian … to see me in it … when I became his wife.” Her voice had wavered. “I have no use for it now. Throw it on the fire, Broadbent. Please.”
He did so. There was sorrow in his eyes.
Once the box and the gown had turned to ashes, Alexis had nodded, thanked Broadbent, and walked back up the hill to the farm. Relief flowed through her. It was gone as if it had never existed. A burden had been shed.
Rising, leaving the arbor, and walking back to the blue garden, Alexis thought of Reginald and his reaction when she had told him about burning her wedding gown. For a moment or two she had seen the flash of shock on his face. Then he had nodded, understanding entering his eyes. “He didn’t see you in it … so it had to vanish. Like it never existed.”
They had been walking up this very lawn. She had smiled and tucked her arm through his. “Thank you, Reggie, for being who you are.”
Jane and Reggie were coming to stay with her next weekend, and they would be bringing the babies, two nannies, Lady Jane’s maid, and Lord Reginald’s valet. Just the thought of all these people made Alexis walk much quicker. She must talk to Broadbent and Mrs. Bellamy again about that special occasion. They would need two additional chambermaids and an additional cook. There was planning to do.
As she hurried on, these thoughts whirling in her head, she heard the sound of horses’ hooves and wheels rolling over gravel. Much to her surprise, it was her father’s carriage that was coming to a standstill at the front door.