For that, she earned a true smile in return. “That’s kind of you.”
“Is it?” She swallowed, feeling his breath close to her.
He nodded, his next words drowned out by the chiming of the clock behind Edgar’s desk. Its timing was a signal to them both.
“It’s late,” Ben said. “We should return to our rooms.”
“Oh.” Remi tried not to express her disappointment. “Of course, you're right. I’ll just tidy up and take—”
He stopped her as she tried to take from him the broken cup. “Come on then.”
Remi grabbed their blankets and bundled them in her arms. She couldn’t help but feel somewhat defeated. Their moment, a good one—ruined by the temerity of an old clock. In her head, she cursed it for its timing.
“Goodnight, Remi,” Ben said.
“Goodnight,” she paused, suddenly too shy to speak his name. “Ben.”
She started down the hall alone, shuffling reluctantly. He watched her, lingering in the doorway. Her feet stopped, and her heart fluttered as she turned to face him again. His brows lifted in query.
“I do believe you,” she said. “I just want you to know that.”
She looked at him, waiting for him to say something. His stoicism had returned.
“That’s all.” She bowed her head. “Goodnight.”
The echo of his silent reply followed her up the stairs and back into her room.
Even if he didn’t thank her, it was enough for Remi to have said it. Some part of him, however deeply hidden, must have felt relieved to have been heard.
Once undressed, Remi curled beneath her covers and closed her eyes. She fell asleep to the sound of rain and her heartbeat. When the morning light finally peeked through her window, she realized that sleep came and went without issue. All that was left of the night before was her wet nightgown and a perfectly folded piece of paper on her bedside table.
BURIAL
REMI
APRIL, 1898
It was only a month before that Edgar first brought Remi to the family mausoleum.
He was at first reluctant, but she had persisted. Though they had just been married, she’d grown too used to the silent halls. The sound of the front door opening had made her jump up from where she sat in the dining room.
“Are you going somewhere?” Remi had asked.
Edgar halted at the threshold, surprised to see her. “I was on my way to the cemetery.”
She perked up. “Might I join you?”
He thought for a moment, then smiled. “Your company would be most welcome.”
The carriage took them down the hill to a secondary road that led into the Isle’s cemetery. It was bumpy and quiet. Remi spent the trip staring out the window, unsure of what to say. They passed headstones of varying age, some new, some weathered by time, and small mausoleums. All the while, she rattled her brain for a topic of common interest, but by the time she found something to talk about, they had stopped.
“Here we are,” Edgar said, hurriedly exiting the carriage.
Martin waited to help her to step down.
“Many generations of my family are buried here,” Edgar said as she joined him by the stairs.
At a glance, he appeared stoic, but his voice was tight. Like the stone façade of the mausoleum they approached, Edgar was weathered and graying. Remi wondered how often he came to visit and what kind of toll it took on him to outlive so many loved ones.
“How many generations?” Remi asked.
“Four,” he said, unlocking the gate.
“This is quite a special spot,” Remi said, pointing to the wooded area just beyond the mausoleum. Wildflowers inched along its granite walls. “The flowers are beautiful.”
In truth, the greenery seemed out of place. The mausoleum was old, and the flowers were bright and lively as if life had held on despite the flow of time.
“Indeed.” Edgar grinned, seemingly delighted by her observation. “Do you recall the specimen encased in my study?”
“I do.”
Edgar gestured to the bushes and the trees. “I found it here one spring when I was just a boy.”
“It was waiting for you?”
“Goodness no,” he chuckled. “The moths led the way, and I followed to find more of their nests behind here, hidden in the woods.”
“How wonderful.” She smiled. The moth he prized was the only one she’d ever seen. “I can only imagine what you would have looked like in your youth.”
