Something Old

By Rebecca Connolly

From this day forward...

Thomas Granger has been married to his wife Lily for five years. The marriage has been proper, but without much affection, and the fault for that lays squarely on his own shoulders. He married her for her fortune and has hidden his true feelings until he felt redeemed enough to truly love her. Now

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phase Publishing
• Release date: Apr 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781952103261

Book preview

Chapter One

Calligraphy Swirl

Finally.

After five years of marriage, five long and arduous years, he had finally done it. Thomas Granger was a man of fortune again.

He had resolved his financial deficits and returned to the solvency he had known before his marriage, and further besides; recovered what was lost and found himself in an enviable position, though much more safely invested and secure. He had learned his lesson and educated himself sufficiently to prevent a repeat of his near ruination in the future.

He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, tell all of Society and the world that he had done it. 

But most of all, he wanted to tell his wife.

Desperately.

But that would require crossing the expanse of their home at Rainford Park in Hampshire and breaching the boundaries they had set up for themselves since they had taken up residence together. He’d done that exactly twice, no more, and both times had been only to inform his wife of his departure when there wasn’t time to wait for the next time they would dine together. His wife had crossed to his side twelve times, six of which had been in the first year they were married. Then she had crossed less and less, until she had stopped crossing altogether.

They hadn’t actually arranged those boundaries verbally, but he’d respected the distance that years of polite cohabitation had generated, particularly when he hadn’t done anything to endear himself to his wife in five years.

He hadn’t done anything in this marriage for five years.

Marrying the woman he loved purely for her fortune had destroyed him, and he had spent every day of his marriage consumed with shame and guilt.

Until today.

Now, perhaps, his marriage could start.

But how did he go about starting something that should have started from the day he took his vows?

That was the question, and he had no answer. 

He didn’t even know where to look for an answer.

Or how to begin. 

Thomas set down his pen on his desk, looking over the most recent reports from his estate manager, as well as his shipping interests in Brighton, Preston, and Cornwall, his secret partnerships in three banks in London, and the other shareholders from his mining ventures in Cornwall. More details from his sole interest in India had yet to arrive, but they’d always been on more of a delay compared to his England-based investments, and the numbers there had been his most promising in the last few years. 

He was always careful to keep a close eye on that particular investment for any indications of a less than savory nature. He’d heard too many horror stories of actions bordering on the inhumane for him to trust too far there. He’d be looking at getting on a ship to India himself before too long, if for no other reason than to put his own eyes on the places and people that were getting his funds and attention.

He’d been exploring any and all options for investing his money since the day he’d lost it all on a poor speculation that he’d had no business joining. It was the day he stopped listening to business proposals over the gaming tables and only bothered with opportunities that had already proven fruitful to others. He took no chances anymore, not with his money, and not until he had already proven he could make a decent amount of earnings. 

Well, his own money had held very little meaning up until the last few years.

He had invested his wife Lily’s money. Her dowry, to be precise.

Initially, all he had was the money he received from the marriage settlement. The house in Hampshire had been purchased with her dowry, purely because Rainford Park was the neighborhood of Knightsgate, where her cousin Caroline, Lady Montgomery, had lived with her husband and children. It was as close to an apology for his jumping into the marriage for her fortune as he could get, short of verbalizing one.

And as there was no way to use words to apologize for the magnitude of his sin, verbalizing wasn’t an option.

He’d made his reasoning for their hasty, loveless marriage right. He’d earned back every farthing he’d ever used of Lily’s money, doubled the money he had lost himself, and set aside the exact amount of the extensive dowry he’d received from her father the moment he could afford to do so. It would be for her use only, once she was aware of it. He still hadn’t managed to tell her.

That would require talking to her.

He really hadn’t done that in years.

They had conversations, of course, as they met for dinner every evening, but nothing of substance had been discussed in the whole course of the marriage.

Nothing.

It was his fault. It was always his fault. If he remotely thought, for even one moment, that he could lay anything at Lily’s door for the way their relationship had soured, he was grossly mistaken. Lily had only adapted to the life he had set up for them and the attitudes he had taken up. His guilt had guided his behavior toward her for the last five years, and now that he had removed the looming obstacle to his happiness, he aimed to find that happiness.

With his wife.

He should have proposed to her before he’d been ruined. He’d loved her enough, though they had never courted. Her family, the Ardens, had been acquainted with his own for their entire lives, and he had been well-liked and appreciated, but he could safely say that he and Lily had never been sweethearts. Being some years older than her, they’d only ever been thrown together for gatherings with their families, never for their own interests. He had never taken particular interest in her, though he certainly cared enough for the four Arden girls in general. 

It wasn’t until he had seen her again in 1819 at an evening soiree held by Mary Hamilton that he had seen her in a different light. She had bloomed into the loveliest creature he had ever seen, and her ability to create the very song of heaven on a pianoforte unmanned him. He’d known for ages that she was accomplished musically, but never to such a degree, and never with such elegance, grace, and ease. She had been breathlessly majestic, and the fact that he had been there in a halfhearted attempt to court Mary Hamilton had bewildered him, given what a torrent of emotion Lily had roused within him.

But how could he have pursued a young woman he had known his entire life and never truly seen? With the life he had led, tolerably honorable though it was, he had no security to provide a woman of fortune and breeding, especially when her nature was as angelic as Lily’s. He needed to improve his reputation, elevate the respect his name commanded, and ensure that he was known for more than his gaming abilities.

If Lily had come to him as an old family friend and told him she wished to marry a man with a reputation for cards and gaming, he’d have warned her off in no uncertain terms.

How, then, could he offer for her so unworthy and unprepared?

So, he had begun a reconstruction of himself and his life and slowly started to take part in Society more. He could converse with Lily at gatherings where they had both been invited and be politely seen taking his place there. He had never been a rogue or a scoundrel, but he certainly could have improved the quality of gentleman he had been.

He’d been well on his way to achieving his aims after three years of effort when the chance to financially exceed his wildest dreams had crossed his path, and thus precipitated his ruin. Only weeks after that investment, he had slunk to the Ardens and offered for Lily’s hand, though it had been more akin to outright begging. As Mr. and Mrs. Arden had never quite adjusted to the disappointment of having only daughters and no sons, they consented to the match with no fuss whatsoever.

Hardly the proper behavior for any parent, but he would be grateful to them in spite of that. After all, their lack of concern had been his salvation, in more ways than one.

And he could make up for the tasteless manner in which his marriage had come about. He could. As soon as he figured out how.

He was not going to figure that out here and now, however. He knew his wife so little, thanks to the habits he had formed in his desperation to avoid her as much as humanly possible. He could have done a better job there, been more present and less aloof, and still have brought about the same distance, but fear of his feelings for her had driven him to extremes, and only now was he realizing the chasm he’d created.

And that only spoke to his own feelings. There was no telling what hers might have been.

Short of asking her himself, of course. He was not that brave.

Not yet. Possibly not ever.

He hoped that wasn’t the case, but he wasn’t prepared to make any assumptions. He never made assumptions now. Couldn’t afford them.

He pushed up from his chair, dropped the reports on his desk, and turned from the room, his strides long and sure. It would undoubtedly give the impression that he had confidence and purpose, when in actuality, he only had purpose.

He needed insight on his wife. And there was only one person he could truthfully turn to for that.

Well, two, actually, but they lived in the same house. They might be his only allies in this venture.

A few minutes later, he was on horseback, riding quickly for his nearest neighbor in Hampshire, the Earl of Montgomery. Lord Montgomery’s first wife had been Lily’s favorite cousin, and his current wife was one of her oldest friends. If anyone could guide him as to how to proceed next, it was them. Either of them. Both of them. 

Surely one of them would know.

Short of Lily’s sister Rosalind, they were the closest thing to family she claimed anymore. But Rosalind was in the Indies, or perhaps Spain, so he would settle for the Montgomerys.

If Thomas and Lily had been in London, he’d have a greater selection of friends for himself and for Lily, but their corner of Hampshire was a little quiet, and they being among the quietest of the bunch. They liked it that way, and it meant that he wasn’t judged too harshly here, which was always much appreciated, but it did condense his resources for advising him on the repairs he sought to make in his marriage. 

That was all he needed, in truth. Advice.

The longer this mess of his had gone on, the more he regretted how he had behaved. He could have done the whole thing differently and been happier throughout, but instead, he had been guided by his guilt, which was now compounded by the guilt of how he had acted because of his original guilt.

Guilt and shame, shame and guilt; whichever way he looked at it, or attempted to do so, it always came back to those things. 

What he wouldn’t give for moments of joy.

He blinked as he realized Knightsgate was before him now, and he pushed his horse a little harder, the hooves pounding against the gravel beneath them with a crunch that was oddly soothing to his ears. Something about the slight echo to it, the clipped edges, satisfied his drive to act enough to settle him. It wasn’t much, riding here to ask for help, but it was a step toward progress, which was more than he had done yet.

A tall footman stepped out of the house, moving into the gravel drive and clasping his hands behind him as Thomas approached.

He pulled up before the man and dismounted easily. Good morning. Thomas Granger to see his lordship, if he is available.

Yes, Mr. Granger, of course. The footman nodded briskly, moving forward to take the reins of the horse. Mr. Hudson is waiting for you just inside, sir.

Thank you. Thomas turned for the house, stripping his gloves off and removing his hat as he jogged up the few steps to the door where, as promised, the stout butler of Knightsgate awaited him. Hudson, good to see you again.

Hudson bowed in perfect deference, smiling politely. A pleasure to welcome you back, Mr. Granger. I trust you seek out his lordship?

Indeed I do, Thomas told him, smiling himself. Is he in? And available?

He is both, sir, Hudson replied easily, gesturing toward the house. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to him.

Thomas followed without another word, smiling to himself at the clatter he heard above him, followed by a series of giggles. Lord Montgomery had four children from his first marriage, all of whom adored their stepmother, and another two boys had joined them, though the youngest was still very much an infant. No matter how fine a place Knightsgate was, or how stately the title its owner bore, there was no shortage of laughter, mischief, and fun within its walls.

In Thomas’s opinion, the place was even more perfect for that.

Mr. Granger, my lord, Hudson intoned once they had reached the study.

Thomas fixed an easy smile on his features as he crossed into the room, stretching out his hand toward the taller man standing behind a desk. Monty.

Granger, Monty greeted, surprise rampant on his features as he shook his hand hard, fair eyes wide. This is a surprise.

Not unpleasant, I hope, Thomas ventured with a hint of a wince.

Monty shook his head. Of course not. Thank you, Hudson, that will be all.

Hudson nodded, shutting the door to the study as he left them.

Have a seat, please, Monty urged, crossing over to the sideboard. Brandy?

Thank you. Thomas moved to the nearest chair and sat, relieved to find himself surprisingly relaxed now that he was here. Monty was an imposing man, sometimes appearing more statue than human, and formality lent itself to him well. But he had always been fair in business and in manner, his loyalty to Lily admirable and gracious without extending to hatred of Thomas.

That was fortunate indeed.

Monty returned, two tumblers in hand and gave one to Thomas before taking the unoccupied chair opposite him. What can I do for you, Granger? I presume this isn’t a mere social call, given you haven’t brought Lily.

I’m afraid that is so, though I intend to do better, by and by. Thomas toasted him with his brandy before sipping slowly. Is all well with Beth and the children? I understand the birth of your youngest could not have been better, all things considered.

Short of removing the pain and distress of the mother, yes, it was rather straightforward. Monty shook his head, scoffing to himself. Even then, Beth claimed it wasn’t that arduous, which I find hard to believe. Still, Francis is a pleasant baby and rarely gives either Beth or me moments of trouble. He surveyed Thomas over the rim of his glass. You and Lily are well?

Perfectly so, I thank you. The statement had come forth on its own, years of practice placing it at the tip of his tongue as the standard response. Given the subject of his impending conversation, something within him twinged at what wasn’t as truthful a statement as it ought to have been.

They were in good health, it was true, but neither of them were perfectly happy. Wasn’t the nature of well-being to encompass health and happiness?

He had only ever given his wife one of those things.

Now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries, would you care to enlighten me as to your true purpose?

Thomas glanced up to find Monty still watching him, eyes narrowed, barest hint of a smile evident at the corner of his mouth.

I need help.

Monty blinked, expression blank. With what?

My wife.

It was a simple statement, but the weight of each word was enough to sink a boulder into the pit of Thomas’s stomach. 

Is something wrong? Monty asked carefully, crossing one leg over the other, shadows of a furrow forming on his brow. 

Thomas nodded once. My marriage.

Monty exhaled a short, irritated burst of air. Granger, I am not about to help you rid yourself of your marriage to my cousin. That is on your own head, and if you want anything from me, I’m going to need a little more content to your answers than two or three words a piece.

I don’t want to be rid of my marriage, Thomas insisted hotly as he shifted in his seat, the feeling of comfort fading. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Really? There was a note of surprise in Monty’s voice, no matter how shrouded in disbelief it was. You don’t?

Thomas took a moment to exhale very slowly. The fact that you sound so dubious reinforces my fears and redoubles my determination.

Monty’s frown fully formed then, though he didn’t seem particularly upset. I’ll need you to explain that, if you don’t mind.

That didn’t surprise Thomas. He imagined he would need to explain quite a bit to quite a few people as time went on. It would be excellent practice, he supposed, for when he was finally ready to explain himself to Lily. 

I’ve been negligent of my wife and the vows I made to God and her, Thomas admitted, the glass in his hand somehow growing colder to the touch as he did so. Not in any way the law would concede, and likely not even in any way Society would concede. But where the truth of the matter is concerned, I am just as guilty as though I had violated those vows with crime or sin.

Monty swirled his brandy almost absently, his attention fixed on Thomas. How so?

The marriage vows instruct us to have, hold, love, and cherish our wives, do they not? Thomas asked in an emotionless tone.

They do. Along with some conditions you haven’t mentioned.

Thomas ignored the additional commentary. I can only claim to have abided by half of those vows, and even then, it is a poor excuse for my efforts. I certainly have my wife, as she is still married to me and living beneath my roof. And, though it may surprise a great many people, including her, I love my wife.

Admitting it aloud when he had kept it hidden for so long was strangely emotional, and Thomas swallowed with some difficulty. But holding and cherishing my wife is where I have failed spectacularly. 

Monty said nothing and showed no emotion.

That made Thomas smile. You don’t seem particularly surprised.

I’m not. Monty lifted a shoulder in a polite shrug. I’ve long suspected you loved her, though I didn’t see why you wouldn’t show it. And I agree that you have failed spectacularly, so I saw no need to correct your statement. It seemed accurate enough.

A humorless laugh escaped Thomas as he lifted the glass of brandy to his lips again.

I presume you mention your failings in these vows because you mean to remedy the situation, Monty said simply, still swirling his drink.

I do, Thomas confirmed with a nod.

How?

No idea. He smiled blandly for effect, then sat back more comfortably in his chair. I have five years to make up for, and I’m not sure where to start. I’ve known Lily most of my life, but it’s as if I’ve been married to a stranger. I don’t know how to begin to mend the rift I’ve created, or if there’s any point in doing so. I was hoping you might enlighten me, if not advise me.

Monty’s brows rose, and the swirling of his glass stopped. You’re serious.

Thomas nodded again. Entirely.

The fair-haired man straightened in his chair, though he had never slouched so much as a hair. You want me to advise you on improving the state of your marriage, your relationship with your wife, and, in essence, the life you have lived from the moment you became man and wife.

Please.

Monty rubbed at his brow, exhaling roughly. I knew I should have stayed in bed longer this morning. Lord knows, I deserve it after being up with the baby most of the night, and now with this…

Lily’s happiness is everything to me, Thomas murmured softly, hoping it would plead his case for him.

A dark scowl met his plea head-on. Well, you’ve got a damned peculiar way of showing it. I’ve seen too many expressions of distress on Lily’s face for my liking, and were Caroline alive, she’d certainly have several harsh words for you, given her affinity for her favorite cousin. And if Beth knew we were having this conversation, she would have a thing or two to say as well.

Don’t you think I know she deserves better than what I have given her? Thomas cried without rancor. That I have consigned her into a faded hue of the luster she once possessed? I’ve been painfully, acutely aware of it every minute of every day. I have seen every dampening of the light in her eyes and every smile that fades into sadness. When the hope in her voice turned to resignation, I hid myself in my study for days on end in shame. He smiled bitterly at the one man who could possibly help him in all this. No matter what either of your wives would have to say on the subject, I would take it all and probably think them too generous.

The corner of Monty’s mouth twitched a little. I don’t know about that. Caroline could be vicious in a temper and exaggerate as it suited her ire.

And Beth?

Monty shuddered. Beth has an accuracy that stuns, and the lack of venom in her barbs does nothing to lessen their potency.

Thomas wasn’t sure if he was supposed to nod, shake his head, protest, or laugh, so he settled for sitting in silence, waiting.

Hoping.

Fine, Monty groaned, downing the remaining brandy with startling ease. I’ll do what I can to help you find your way back into Lily’s good graces, though what you do when you get there is on your own head.

Thank you, Thomas said with a relief that made his head swim. Truly, I am indebted to you.

Monty snorted once. You’d better wait to see if I am any help before you claim servitude. I may be a dreadful advisor for you.

Any advisor is better than none.

Not always true, but let’s hope it helps you here.

Chapter Two

Calligraphy Swirl

Thank you, Mrs. Robbins. It is so very generous.

God bless you for your kindness, Mrs. Granger.

Lily Granger smiled, dipping her chin as modestly as one could while accepting praise that wasn’t deserved, and turned away from the cottage. She walked out to the road that would take her back to Rainford Park and away from Lundstead, away from her tenants, and away from wearing a smile she did not feel.

It was always a smile she did not feel these days. Not that she hated her home or the village nearby, she simply struggled to find joy in any of it.

Life had made it that way. Or perhaps just her marriage. In many ways, they were one and the same. But she had her independence, and she was well aware that being married to an actual villain would be far worse than being married to a man who couldn’t be bothered to notice her. 

Even if she did want him to notice her. And oh, how she had wanted it!

Not so much anymore, however. Those yearnings had been for the early days of her marriage when she still had hope that Thomas would come to love her, would be the man she thought he had been, that their marriage could become one of love despite not being arranged as such. When she looked for him, waited for him to look for her and sat with bated breath in anticipation of being called for. When she hoped to sit with him, walk with him, do anything with him. 

When she hoped for anything.

There was no hope for anything anymore, only a mute acceptance of what had become normal. Was it worse to be abused by one’s husband than to be ignored by one? She couldn’t imagine so, but then, Thomas would never be one to injure her in such a physical way. His injuries would always be the silent, unseen sort; the ones that evoked pity but not sympathy; the one that many wives in England would be grateful for. 

But not Lily Granger. She wanted her husband’s attention. She wanted his affection. She wanted him.

Years of not having him, his affection, or his attention had left her feeling empty and alone. Despite being surrounded by people in Society and thought to be the most fortunate of women, she felt as though she were living a lie.

And there was no joy whatsoever to be found in the lie.

Out here in the country, it was easier to forget the lie existed. Rainford Park was a large house, as was the estate as a whole, which meant separate lives were far easier to maintain than in London. But London had her friends, and Hampshire had her family. Or, at least, the family she liked best.

Her late cousin’s husband lived a few miles away, and his new wife was one of Lily’s oldest friends. But their lives were full of children and newlywed bliss, something Lily knew absolutely nothing about. She was happy for them, delighted on many levels, but surrounding herself with such happiness was taxing at times, and she could not always bear it. Not when the halls of her own home rang with a deafening silence that echoed into her heart.

Maintaining joy in the midst of such a life had taken its toll on Lily. She could lose herself in serving her tenants, could do good in the neighborhood, and could run a household in the exact way her aunt and mother had educated her, but it all lacked significance when she thought about it too much. 

There had to be a better way to live a life, had to be more than just her marriage to define her existence. But when her parents had only ever cared for the connections their daughters could afford them and took little notice of anything else, a mind could become quite fixed on the idea purely from a lack of other incentives.

In that respect, Lily had quite soundly filled her parents’ expectations.

Not as exceptionally as her sister Rosalind, who had married the younger son of the popular, much-envied Rivertons, but there were not many who thought ill of Thomas Granger. Even she could not think particularly ill of him, despite being unhappily married to him these five long years.

Marrying for money when one longed for love could do that.

Her father hadn’t cared that Lily’s dowry would essentially be absorbed by Thomas’s financial losses, leaving them with very little to sustain them without additional gains. He’d thought it his duty to help an old friend in such a way, and that Lily would not do better in connections than to a Granger.

Somehow, their finances stabilized without any noticeable retrenchment, and money had never been mentioned again. Not that Lily cared so very much, given her dowry had never belonged to her in the first place and made her feel more like a horse at market than a woman, but it was curious that a hastily arranged marriage to a fortune hunter had not resulted in any sort of ruin.

Would ruination have brought her closer to her husband than stability had?

She might have preferred it that way.

Days like today were more difficult to bear, as she would have to discuss her activities with Thomas when they dined together this evening. She had been checking on those of their tenants