At that he sighed and shifted his gaze to the drawings on the desk. “The northern states all outlawed slavery back in eighty-three. Maryland was not among them, though. It and Virginia are now the leaders in the slave trade, sending slaves south and west since the international trade was banned five years ago.”
He frowned at the picture she had been working on when he entered. A library, from the looks of it, or perhaps a study. The detail was exquisite, each tome looking as though he could reach out and pull it from the shelf, each title legible, but why had she drawn such a scene? One with intricacy but no real subject. There, in the center, at the desk, where one would think a figure would repose, was naught but gaping, empty space.
“You sound bothered. By the state of the states and the trade.” She leaned an elbow on the desk and rested her head in her hand, sending a river of red-gold curls onto the paper.
Thad noted the genuine concern on her face but went back to the drawing. Something about a shadow on the floor felt off. One looked almost like a…sword?
“Well, for starters, my family comes from New England, Miss Fairchild, where slavery is banned. I was raised with corresponding sensibilities, and I despise how it continues to drive a wedge into the heart of my nation.”
She made no response. He looked down and loosed a soft laugh. Her eyes were closed, her respiration deep and even.
“And you accuse me of putting people to sleep with my conversation.” Father eased into the room, his voice a quiet whisper and a smile upon his face. A smile that faded to a concerned frown as he studied her. “The poor girl. What do you think is haunting her so?”
The better question might be why whatever it was made Thad yearn to reach out and smooth back her hair, to promise her all would be well.
He shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back to keep them in order. “Something more than the pitching of a ship, that is certain. Perhaps it is tied to whatever inspired Fairchild to send her here.”
“That itself is certainly odd, given the circumstances.” Father moved his regard to Thad, that steady, probing gaze he knew so well. The one that saw well below the surface. “You wonder as to his motives. And, hence, hers. But I know him, Thad. He would never exploit the bonds of friendship for a political purpose.”
Mother came quietly into the room. “He is better than the rest of us in that regard.” She stopped in her usual place at Father’s side, and his arm went around her.
They had always been this way. They shared a love he had assumed was comfortable and normal until he grew up and realized it was so very rare. His sisters had found the same strong bond with their husbands, and he was grateful for that. But Thad…perhaps he wasn’t built quite like the rest of them. He had been fond of Peggy, to be sure, but he hadn’t loved her the way his parents loved each other.
He shook off that thought and looked again to Gwyneth. “Why, then, Mother? Why would he send her here? It is hardly an appropriate time for a holiday.”
And why did Mother’s lips seem to itch at a grin? “I know not, Thaddeus, but given how much like your father you are, I daresay you shan’t rest until you figure it out. You Lane men never can let a mystery go unsolved.”
He snorted a laugh. “Especially since this Lane man is half Reeves, and you are every bit as bad about it as Father.”
“Precisely.” She leaned into Father for another moment and then pulled away to crouch at Gwyneth’s side and smooth her hair. “Gwyneth darling. Wake up. I shall take you to your room.”
Though it took a minute of repeatedly speaking her name and gently shaking her, Mother managed to get the girl to her feet and leaning against her for support. They made it halfway across the room before Gwyneth stopped. Expecting her to have succumbed more fully to unconsciousness, Thad shifted when she pulled away from Mother and spun around, her gaze flying about the room in a panic.
“Gwyneth? What is the matter?” He started forward but halted when the fear evaporated from her turquoise eyes.
Perhaps she had only forgotten where she was in her stupor, and peace returned with realization. That must be why her gaze settled on him with such relief, and why a smile touched her lips. She said nothing, but she let Mother slide an arm around her again and lead her out the door.
Thad waited until he heard their footsteps on the stairs. “Tell me it’s not a mistake, Father. Having her here.”
“Logic says it may be.” Father clapped a hand to his shoulder and squeezed. “But something tells me this is not a matter for logic.”
An odd enough statement coming from him that Thad couldn’t argue. Instead, he went back to the desk. “Take a look at this, will you? What do you see?”
Father joined him, humming low in his throat in that way that said he was impressed with what he beheld. “Astounding. Her attention to detail…”
Precisely. Which was why those shadows bothered him. The one that looked like a sword, yes, but also the pattern that stretched across the whole picture. Perhaps from a scalloped curtain?
Father leaned down, frowning. “This is her father’s study, Thad. I recognize the books.”