Chapter 10 #2
Taking the toddler’s hands in hers, she clapped them together in a gentle Pat-a-Cake.
“I don’t think he’s as capricious as you think,” Eve disagreed. “In fact, I do believe he fancies you.”
Fiona snorted dismissively, denying herself the stab of pleasure Eve’s words brought. “There are many things Aylesbury fancies, not the least being Vin’s wife or Richard’s for that matter. But not me. Aylesbury was quite clear on that point. Why, I’d have a foot in the grave before that changed!”
A frown furrowed between Ilona’s brows. “He said as much?”
Two years ago. But, “Yes.”
“Did he?” Eve tapped a finger against her lips thoughtfully. “Perhaps he changed his mind.”
“Perhaps he has.” Fiona looked from Eve to Ilona, seeing the understanding there. “That doesn’t necessarily mean I have changed mine. I’ve moved on.”
“Have you?” Eve asked, sharing a look of concern with Ilona. “You don’t carry a torch for him somewhere deep down inside, just as my heart lingered with Francis in all the years between our first meeting and our second?”
Eve was far too perceptive to be having a conversation such as this with her. But Fiona wasn’t about to admit a thing to Eve that she refused to admit to herself. Not that there was anything to admit, of course.
“No, I don’t because I, for one, believe that it is preferable to be Elinor Dashwood rather than Marianne, facing the future for what it is rather than pining for the past,” Fiona said, referring to the characters in Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility.
“I have a plan for my future, Eve, and Harrison Brudenall is not in it.”
“But did Elinor truly move on, Fiona?” Ilona asked skeptically. “Did she find happiness where she could? Or did she still long for Mr. Ferrars in her heart and remain a single lady as a result?”
“She was content,” Fiona argued. After all, every tale was open to interpretation by the reader and that was how she chose to take it. “Content with her choices, as I am with mine.”
Eve raised a doubtful brow. “Was she? Are you? Elinor was burdened by an overabundance of good sense, I think.”
“Yes,” Ilona agreed. “She was exceedingly cautious and practical.”
“And I’m not.” Fiona didn’t even dare to inflect a question into it.
Such a query would have lifted that brow even higher; besides, Fiona wasn’t so blind to her attributes and failings that she might even pretend to think she possessed those qualities.
No, she wasn’t cautious or even practical, but Fiona was a realist, and she told her sisters-in-law as much.
“No, Fiona dear, you are not,” Ilona agreed softly. “You’re impulsive; I said as much the other day. But while grasping imprudently for one thing, you’re also running. Running from what troubles you and replacing it with a whole new set of troubles won’t solve anything.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered, the words bitter at the back of her throat. “Neither of you do. You can’t imagine what it is like to stand back and watch it all!”
Eve looked puzzled, but Ilona only nodded with understanding, reaching out to draw Lela into her lap with a dejected sigh. “Can I not?”
She trailed off with a shrug, but Fiona knew her sister-in-law’s thoughts often as well as her own. While Ilona had found at least a part of what Fiona longed for with her marriage to Fiona’s brother, Colin, three years past, the couple hadn’t yet been blessed with a child.
Brown eyes filled with caring and warmth, Ilona lifted her eyes back to Fiona’s. “I know what it is to want what you don’t have, Fiona. But I cannot evoke from nothing that which would make me happiest. And neither can you.”
“Dearest Ilona...” Eve sighed sadly, gleaning Ilona’s meaning as easily as Fiona. She took Ilona’s hand in hers and squeezed it sympathetically.
“Do not cry for me, my sisters,” Ilona said with her usual good cheer. “I have the love of a man I adore, friends like you, and hope. It is all I need. What do you need, Fiona?”
“More than I have,” she confessed. “I cannot continue to bear witness and unlike Jamie, I haven’t the option to run off to the Americas to escape it all.”
“Marriage has become your escape plan.”
Fiona shrugged, reluctant to verbally concur with Eve’s conclusion. Escape was such a desperate word.
Ilona laughed softly, and to Fiona’s surprise, humor danced in her chocolaty eyes. “And Ramsay is your ‘more’? Tsk, tsk, dear. What a poorly considered plan.”
“Ilona!”
Her sister-in-law giggled. Eve was smiling as well. “I shan’t apologize. While you might find temporary relief with him, such a hasty course of action will only bring you misery in the end.”
“I would at least have a family of my own. Children to love,” she pointed out.
The light in Ilona’s eyes dimmed. “There is no guarantee in that, I’m afraid. You’d be a fool to pin your hopes on it.”
“I’m sorry, Ilona.” How she hated hurting Ilona’s feelings when she was never anything but kind to her. “I’ve put my foot in it this time, haven’t I?”
She smiled, her spirits rebounding quickly as always. “No. Never.”
Eve looked down at the baby in her arms and the other children around her. “I’m sorry I hadn’t realized how unhappy you had been living with us, Fiona. You as well, Ilona dear.”
“Oh, Evie! I am not. I love you all and am glad for the joy each and every one of you has,” Fiona assured her. “I just want more for myself. If I can’t have the one thing I ever truly wanted in this life, I must at least have this.”
“What did you ever want that you could not have?” Eve asked curiously.
Ilona also pierced her with those all-seeing eyes, searching for an answer, but Fiona refused to offer anything more. Still, her eyes widened, then danced as if she had been privy to some titillating gossip.
“Did you know, Eve,” she said, turning to Eve, “that just a few days ago, I was saying that even without having met Lord Ramsay, I knew Fiona did not love him?”
“Is that so? What did you say to that, Fiona?”
She pressed her lips together, declining to speak.
“She agreed, of course, but wondered how I knew.” Ilona leaned toward Eve with an air of confidentiality and whispered. “No fire, you see?”
“Ilona!” Fiona protested.
“Hmm,” Eve nodded. “I do.”
“Evie, please!”
“The funny thing is,” Ilona continued, “I have seen it now. Yes, I have, but not in regard to Lord Ramsay. Isn’t that odd?”
Eve nodded, casting a sidelong glance of amusement at Fiona, who was all but huffing in outrage.
“But you know the oddest thing?” Ilona went on blithely as if she were utterly unaware of Fiona’s outrage. “Lord Ramsay seems to bear a striking resemblance to Lord Ayls—
“Ilona MacKintosh!” Fiona cried out, climbing to her feet. “Enough! It is one thing to disparage my choice but quite another to imply that I...that he...Oh!”
Aware that her sisters-in-law were smiling a trifle smugly as she left them behind, Fiona stomped off to the water’s edge, where Laurie and Preston were still throwing bread to the waterfowl.
Surely, their conversation would be far easier to bear.