Inside the Carriage – Sunset
The shadows stretched long across the landscape, casting warm light inside the carriage, turning Mary's expression golden and unreadable.
Thomas cleared his throat.
He had been quiet for minutes now, but the question had settled into him like a thorn, and it wouldn't let go.
Finally, he said, "Mary… may I ask something?"
She turned to him gently. "Of course."
He hesitated, then leaned forward just a little, his eyes searching hers.
"This person you're going to meet… do you… like them?"
Mary looked away, but a soft, unmistakable smile tugged at her lips.
"I do," she said, almost in a whisper. "Very much."
Something in Thomas's chest tightened.
He blinked, leaning back as if to give her space, but also to compose himself.
"I see," he said carefully, though his voice betrayed a flicker of unease. "So it's someone… romantic, then?"
Mary didn't answer with words. She simply nodded.
Thomas glanced out the window, jaw tightening slightly. He didn't want to feel it—but the jealousy was there, creeping in. An ache he hadn't prepared for.
And then Mary said softly:
"Her name is Isabelle."
Thomas turned.
"Her?"
Mary nodded again, this time holding his gaze.
"She was… someone I met as a child. We crossed paths again recently. And it was like everything I thought I knew cracked open."
Thomas stared at her.
For a moment, he didn't say anything.
Then he gave a small, relieved chuckle. "Ah," he said lightly, "so this Isabelle is a lady?"
"She is," Mary said.
Thomas relaxed a little, though not entirely sure why.
It's just a friend, he told himself.
Just a girl she's fond of. Nothing threatening.
He smiled gently. "Then I hope your visit brings you both peace."
Mary watched him for a moment, reading something in his calmness that made her heart ache a little.
If only he knew…
But she said nothing.
She returned the smile with warmth. "Thank you, Thomas. You're… far kinder than I ever gave you credit for."
He gave her a small bow of his head. "Let's just say I know what it's like to want something quietly."
They rode the rest of the way in silence—her heart pulsing louder with every mile closer to London.
And to Isabelle