Page 35 of The Last Casterglass
“Oh, Seph.” Oliver did put his arms around her then, and to his immense gratification, after only a second’s startled pause, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as he stroked her back. “I’m sorry.”
“The thing is,” she continued after a moment, her voice muffled against his shoulder, “I can’t really blame Althea for thinking I’d want this. I’ve kept to my own company most of the time. I haven’t been all that friendly or welcoming to her or to—to anyone. She seemed so pleased to be offering it to me, and I felt so…” she drew a shuddery breath “…sad.”
“Oh, Seph,” he said, his arms tightening around her just a little. She felt so soft and slender and right, he could have held her forever. “I really am.”
She tilted her tear-stained face up to his. Teardrops clung to her lashes and her eyes were luminous. “Youunderstand,” she said, her tone caught between wondering and frustrating. “Why can’t they?”
Because I’ve always understood you, Oliver wanted to say, but didn’t.Because I know you and I understand you and I might be falling in love with you.
Thank goodness he didn’t say any of that.
“Did you explain it to her?” he asked instead.
Seph slipped out of his arms, making him feel bereft. “No,” she said on a sigh as she walked to the window, resting one hand on the frame. “I didn’t feel I could, not when she was acting like she’d just given me the biggest birthday present ever. And, if I’m honest, I didn’t want to have to. I wanted her to realise—what sort of person wants to be out here on their own, in this poky little place?” She shook her head slowly. “I imagined the rest of my life living here, and I just…couldn’t bear it.”
“I couldn’t bear it either,” Oliver said feelingly. “But I suppose if it was done up nicely, it could be quite cosy. Maybe Althea was thinking along those lines?”
“Yes, while everyone else lived together at the castle?” Seph burst out bitterly. “Althea would be at Appleby Farm, I know, but it just…it just felt like I can’t escape.” She rested her forehead against the window frame and closed her eyes. “I’ve been alone my whole life and I don’t want to be, anymore. I’m trying to be different, but maybe I can’t be. Maybe nothing ever really can change, after all.”
*
She hadn’t meantto sound melodramatic, Seph thought as she kept her eyes closed, her forehead pressed against the window frame. She was afraid Oliver would think her terribly self-pitying, but Althea’s suggestion had been stinging for three days. And not just the suggestion about this house, but everything. Last night she’d sat the supper table while everyone had chatted about the wedding and their Christmas plans, and she’d felt completely left out. Maybe that was her own making, but she couldn’t escape the sense that everyone was so used to not including her that they didn’t even think about it. They weren’ttryingto make her feel bad, and that knowledge actually made her feel worse.
Still, she was gratified Oliver understood. For a few seconds, when she’d rested in his arms, she’d felt…peaceful. That was really the only word to describe, even if the tingling sensation spreading through her body hadn’t been exactly peaceful. But she’d felt as if she’d finally come to rest, as if she’d found a home, which was ridiculous, because it had only been a hug, born out of sympathy, nothing more.
Seph opened her eyes and raised her head from the window frame. “Sorry. I’m making more of this than there needs to be. I should just tell Althea I’m not interested. Even if Sam and Rose and Olivia and Will have their flats, I’m sure there will be room for me. I can take one of the pantries or something.”
“You don’t want to sleep in a pantry,” Oliver pointed out wryly.
“You know what I mean, though.” He was eyeing her with such gentleness that Seph had an urge to squirm. She’d cried in front of him. She’d cried in hisarms. At the time it had felt wonderful and right, but now she was just embarrassed.
“Yes, I do.” He spoke with a quiet certainty that made Seph want to askhowhe knew, not just about this, but about everything. He seemed to understand her so well, and it surprised and scared and gratified her in turns. “You don’t want people to be thoughtless, but pointing out that they’ve been thoughtless doesn’t really help. You wanted them to have realised. To have cared.”
“Yes.” Once again, he’d encapsulated it perfectly. “But I do know that Althea cares,” she continued, feeling it was important to be fair. “She’d made a lot of effort with the castle and with—with me. I wasn’t very welcoming at all when she first came back.” Seph squirmed inwardly to think about just how rude she had been. “And she tried. She still tries. So that’s something.”
“Do you want to live at the castle?” Oliver asked frankly. “And continue as things are? Or would you rather renovate something else—one of the stables, perhaps? You could still have your own space, but it would be a lot closer.”
“Yes…” But as Seph tried to visualise turning the old dovecote or milking parlour into a cottage, she realised she didn’t want that, either. Maybethatwas what was at the heart of her jumbled hurt and confusion. “I don’t…” she began, feeling her way through the words. “I don’t really want to live at Casterglass at all.”
“What?” Oliver looked so stunned that Seph would have laughed, if she hadn’t felt so raw. Just saying that out loud had felt like a huge betrayal—of her family, her heritage, her very self.
“I don’t want to live at Casterglass,” she said again, more firmly this time because she realised she meant it. “I’ve lived here my whole life; I’ve never had a choice. You said it yourself—Casterglass is part of our family, not just like another person, but like—like aking, ruling over us all. It’s in our bones, it’s woven into the very fabric of our souls.” She let out a self-conscious laugh. “I know how melodramatic that sounds, but I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Oliver was still looking flummoxed. “Why don’t you want to live at Casterglass?” he asked, still sounding shocked.
“I suppose because I’ve never known anything else. Because I’ve felt as if I’ve been hostage to this place—I didn’t leave, and then I couldn’t. I was afraid to, because I’d never known anything else. Before Althea came back, my dad was planning on selling it. When he told me, the first thing I felt was—relief.” She bowed her head, almost ashamed by her confession. She’d never told this to another person; she’d never even let herselfthinkit very much, in the privacy of her own mind.
“I had no idea,” Oliver replied slowly.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked, although she wasn’t quite sure why he would be. “It feels wrong, like I should love it because it’s our home, and it is so wonderful in many ways, but everyone else got to leave. I never did.” She thought of her siblings traipsing off to boarding school, to university, to cheap and cheerful holidays with friends in Portugal or Spain. Sam had been all over the world; Althea had worked in London and Olivia in York. She’d done nothing,nothingin comparison.
“I’ve always wanted to travel,” she admitted impulsively. “Go to Europe—Paris or Prague or, I don’t know,somewhere. Sit in a café and watch the world go by. Wander city streets late at night.” She blushed, knowing how fanciful she sounded. “I’ve never done anything like that, not even remotely. The only times I’ve left Cumbria were for Olivia’s graduation and a sixth form school trip to Lancaster.” A trembling laugh escaped from her lips. “I bet you can’t even believe that, in this day and age. I’ve never even been to London.”
“Your parents never travelled with you?”
“By the time I came along, they were happy to just potter about here. Everyone came to us, that is, when they did. As time went on, they didn’t come back all that much. But there were some fun times…” Again she felt she had to be fair. “Parties and things, especially when I was younger. I remember an epic croquet match that went on till about two in the morning.”
“So, everyone else has been coming home, finding their place,” Oliver surmised slowly, his head cocked as his gaze swept thoughtfully over her, “and you were desperate to leave and find your place somewhere else.”