Why won’t my mind work like it’s supposed to?
An hour later, they arrived at Hadleigh Hall, and without asking, Mr. Butler escorted her inside. Noise and chaos greeted her as she gave her outerwear to the butler, who said his name was Jeffries. She’d not remember in two minutes, but she would recall his face. The longer she stood in the entry hall, the more her anger raged deep inside. Her own family didn’t love her enough to accept her as she was and on her own terms, so why should she do the same for them? Why had she consented to come at all?
For the freedom. To explore what I’m capable ofaway from everyone who thinks I’m riddled with insanity.
“Good heavens, such racket,” Caroline whispered, and despite her companion of the moment, she pressed her palms to her ears. Loud noises often set off anxiety and mired her in clouds of confusion.
“It’s a touch too much, I’ll agree.” Mr. Butler offered her his crooked elbow. “Let me see if I can help.” When she put her fingers on his sleeve—his clothing was fine and expertly tailored, which spoke to his position within society—he led her down the corridor and then ducked into what appeared to be a parlor.
Immediately, some of the cacophony assaulting her ears dimmed. She smiled at him. “Thank you.” Perhaps it was vanity, but she wanted to explain that she wasn’t an oddity. “I’m not accomplished to stimulation.” No, that wasn’t right. She narrowed her eyes as she searched her mind for the correct word. “Accustomed.” Of course, the word had been there all along, but her mind had hidden it, like always. “My ears hurt. I don’t like…” What was the word she now needed? “I don’t like… It’s too much…” Tears filled her eyes. She must appear a simpleton.
“I understand, Miss Storme.” Mr. Butler patted her hand. He led her over to a chair and gestured her into it. “Sit here a spell and rest.” He tilted his head, but nothing in his demeanor gave away his thoughts. “If it’ll make you feel at ease, I’m glad to keep you company. I know what it’s like to be in a crowd but not fit in for whatever reason.”
“Thank you.” It seemed to be the only intelligent phrase she could say, but his presence exuded calm, and she desperately wished to bathe in that. When he dropped his large person upon a delicate chair that matched hers, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the amusing picture he made. “I’m somewhat anxious to meet my family.” Only by uttering the sentence slowly could she say the words in their correct order.
“Why is that, Miss Storme? Brand’s the best of all men.”
“I haven’t seen these people since I was a small girl.” He didn’t need to know her whole pathetic history.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I know what you mean. We all have family troubles.” For the space of a few heartbeats, his eyes took on a faraway look before he focused on her once more. “My father was neglectful, and that made for a rather lonely time of it. I found more of a connection with my mates in the Navy than with him.”
Oh, this man was fascinating, and she could listen to his voice for hours, but he needn’t waste his time playing companion to her. No one should. Caroline drooped from exhaustion. “Please, don’t think to linger here.” A glance at him caused her heart to flutter. Would the horrid luck of bad hearts afflict her now too? “Find Brand and join everyone. All right I’ll be here.” She forced out a sigh. “I will be all right here.” Perhaps escaping the asylum wasn’t the best idea.
For long moments, he rested those golden-brown eyes on her, and she wished to hide in those warm depths. Speculation and compassion clouded those pools, and finally he nodded. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, but perhaps we can talk again later?” It was a small victory when the words aligned perfectly this time.
Mr. Butler flashed a grin. “I’ll make certain of it, Miss Storme.”
Would he prove himself different than others, or would he take care to avoid her for the duration of the house party?
No sooner had he left than a petite redhaired woman came into the room. She smelled of summertime. “Hullo. Are you Caroline? The butler let everyone know you’d arrived, and when you didn’t make an appearance, I set out to locate you.” Her smile immediately disarmed the worry building in Caroline’s chest. “I know what it’s like to be tossed into the midst of the Storme family, and it’s terribly chaotic just now with a treasure hunt in play.”
So many words in such a short time. She stared at the woman, unsure if her mind were playing tricks. Then she slowly nodded. “I am Caroline.” What did the other woman think of her? Did she know the history? “And you are?”
“Lady Jane. I’m Finn’s wife.” A blush spread over the woman’s pale cheeks. “It’s still so new, the wedded state I mean, that I haven’t gotten used to being his wife, you see.”
“Ah.” Caroline was immediately drawn to this woman. “Cousin Andrew wrote. He mentioned a Bath chair.” If her words sounded guarded, she couldn’t help that.
“Oh, yes.” Lady Jane nodded. Her green eyes sparkled as if she knew a joke that no one else did. “He is in one. Has been since he was injured in the war, but that isn’t an obstacle.” Her easy grin was disarming, and she continued to babble. “It was at first, but we’ve overcome it.”
How incredibly interesting. Curiosity buzzed through her mind, but Caroline didn’t trust her words or her ability to speak without embarrassing herself in front of yet another stranger. Besides, she didn’t know how well these new people would tolerate her… quirks.
The woman didn’t seem to notice her hesitation. “If you’d like, you can come join the scavenger hunt. The Storme boys as well as Isobel are rather overbearing and rabid about it, so the rest of us have settled in the drawing room with the dowager countess and Finn’s aunt.” Her face brightened. “Your mother, actually. Someone called for refreshments, and there’s a merry fire that’ll warm you.”
The Stormes. Her family. The people who’d abandoned her to the proverbial wolves and left her by herself at the asylum. Confliction raged in her chest and collided with the ever-present frustration and anger to make the perfect storm inside. How ironic, that. She’d become her namesake, but would she prove just as destructive now that she wasn’t locked away by herself? Cold fear twisted down her spine to lodge in her belly.
What if she’d truly needed that tiny little room with its lone, high window and nothing decorating the walls except her sketches? What if she couldn’t function within her family or in society just as her father had said once upon a time? Did her mind and confused way of talking mean she was a monster, destined to remain shunned by everyone who’d ever known her? Panic climbed her throat, and suddenly she wished for the comforting, big presence of Mr. Butler.
But this was her new life, and she’d need to find her own way through it. No one had helped her before; they certainly wouldn’t now. As terrifying as being here was, she needed to build that strength for herself if she were to survive. Hadn’t Cousin Andrew promised in his letter that he would never send her back?
Was he a man of his word even though he was a Storme?
“Caroline? Did you hear me?” Concern wove through the melodious voice of the woman in the room with her.
“I apologize.” She snapped her attention back to the red-haired woman’s face. “Woolgathering, I suppose. You’re Lady Jane.”
“Yes. But you may drop the title if you wish.” Her smile was kind. “Will you come with me into the drawing room? If you find us too much to take as a whole, I’ll go abovestairs with you until you feel strong enough to plunge in again.”