Page 31 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
“They are all lovely young women who will serve you well.”
Selene pouts. “Well, that was absolutely no help at all.”
Dorian snorts at her displeasure, not unkindly. She likes the way his dimples crinkle when he does that. “You want my advice?”
“Yes, please.”
“Marta,” he says.
Selene is happy to have his backing. “She’s who I was leaning towards, too.”
Dorian’s smile deepens. “I’m glad to hear it.”
The next morning, Ariella goes into town to fetch Marta and let everyone else know that the position has been filled. Selene remains at the house, waiting for their return. She is eager to have someone to talk to. Dorian is perpetually in his study, Ariella is busy running the house, Rookwood is forever in the kitchen and garden and Soren… Well, she isn’t even sure she’s heard him speak since her arrival at Ebonrose, and he exists like a shadow. She has no idea how he spends his time.
She watches the village from the library windows, and, suddenly curious, locates a map of the area. Lower Thornmere isn’t small. How many tenants does Dorian have?
She’s still pondering the question when Rookwood comes in with a tea tray. He’s not using his cane today, possiblybecause he needs two hands for the tray. Selene realises too late she probably ought to have assisted him or even taken her tea downstairs.
“Thank you,” she says.
“’Tis no bother, my lady.”
Selene is reluctant to leave the map. “Rookwood,” she begins, before he can make it to the door, “how many people live in Lower Thornmere?”
“Three-hundred-and-sixty-eight,” he responds without a pause. “Hopefully add one more to that number before the month is out.”
“So many?”
He nods.
“And they’re all tenants of Dorian’s?”
He nods again.
“Forgive me,” Selene begins, not wanting to seem rude but struggling with how to phrase her question, “but how is Ebonrose in such a poor state of repair despite this number of tenants?”
He must be mismanaging it indeed for the house to look like this. Perhaps he’s made some bad investments. Maybe that’s why he spends so long in his study, she reasons, trying to work out how to make back the money.
“The rent Dorian charges is minimal,” Rookwood explains. “Just enough to cover the costs of maintaining the village.”
That sounds like Dorian—what little of him she knows—but it’s unheard of for a gentleman to let things fall into such a state. “But… what about the house?”
“There’s only four—five—of us, and we’re already living better than most other folk. What’s he going to spend money on? We don’t host parties—”
The thing is, they will have to host parties at some point. Dorian may live on the outskirts of society, but for whatever reason, he hasn’t abandonedit entirely. People may have made excuses for his lack of hospitality in the past, given the death of his father, but by taking a wife, he’s shown he’s ready.
Selene can’t be devoid of company forever. She wants to go to parties and balls and events. It occurs to her that Dorian doesn’t like these things, but that he isn’t foolish. He knows he’ll have to host now that he has a bride. Marrying her means giving up his solitude.
She wonders why he did it.
She thinks back to our tour of the village, how quick he was to help Thomas with the roof, and remembers her words to him back at her parents’ house:
I need your help.
Dorian can’t say no to someone who needs his help. She has married a good man, and for the first time, she feels guilty about it.
Rookwood leaves shortly afterwards. Selene is left alone with her tea. She sips it, tracing the roads on the map with her fingertips, following the paths that wind through Lower Thornmere.
