Chapter 15 #2
Damian stood by the window, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, staring out at nothing. Victoria sat on the settee, her posture rigid and her face absolutely desolate. Both of them turned as Joan entered, rising to their feet in unison.
Joan straightened her back, lifted her chin, and walked to the chair opposite them. She sat with deliberate grace, folding her hands in her lap.
Damian moved first, crushing out his cigarette in a dish before turning to face her fully.
“I’ve spoken with several officials this morning,” he said without preamble.
“What Julian did last night, coming here with hired men, surrounding our carriage, threatening us, it constitutes an abuse of power and intimidation. He’s going to be questioned by the magistrate. ”
Joan kept her expression neutral. “And then?”
“And then I’ll handle it,” Damian said firmly. “I’ve already sent word to Julian that there will be no wedding. That any further attempts to contact this family will result in formal charges being filed.”
Foolish, Joan thought. Brave and loving, but foolish.
Damian didn’t seem to grasp, or perhaps refused to accept.
Yes, they were a noble family themselves.
Yes, Damian had position and connections.
But Julian’s family had roots that went back centuries, had influence that stretched through every level of government and society.
They could weather a scandal. The Sinclairs could not.
It was a losing battle, and they all knew it. But Damian, dear protective Damian, was going to fight it anyway.
Joan couldn’t allow that.
She needed to be cold now. She needed to be harsh. It was the only way to make them stop trying to save her.
“What right,” Joan said, her voice cutting through the room like ice, “did you have to intervene in my marriage arrangements?”
Damian’s head snapped back as though she’d slapped him. “What right? Joan, you can’t be serious. ”
“I am entirely serious.” Joan kept her tone stern, authoritative, the voice she’d used when scolding them as children. “I am well past the typical marriage age. Most women my age have been married for years. Julian Hawthorne is an earl offering me his name and protection. It is an honor.”
Damian laughed, it was a disbelieving sound. “An honor? The man is a scam! ”
She looked directly into Damian’s eyes, saw the anguish and confusion there, and forced herself to remain cold.
“This is the first time I have ever asked anything of you, Damian. Are you truly going to say no?”
“Joan, please.” His voice cracked. “Don’t do this. There has to be another way.”
“I’ll marry him.”
Victoria’s voice, small and broken, came from behind them. Joan turned to see her sister standing, her face streaked with tears but her expression resolute.
“No, you will not,” Joan began.
But Victoria crossed the room and slowly, deliberately, sank to her knees before Joan. Her hands reached for Joan’s skirts, clutching the fabric with trembling fingers.
“This is my fault,” Victoria whispered. “All of it. I made such a fuss over Julian’s infidelity, I ran away like a coward instead of accepting my duty. I’ll marry him, Joan. I’ll do it. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for my mistakes.”
Joan felt tears burning behind her eyes, hot and desperate and threatening to spill over. She blinked them back furiously.
No. I cannot show weakness. Not now.
“You will stay here,” Joan said coldly, looking down at her sister’s bowed head. “You will help run the school. I’ll speak with Timothy about finding volunteers, and once the school is stable, you may return to London if you wish.”
But not until after the wedding, Joan thought. Not until I’m safely married to Julian and he has no reason to pursue you anymore.
Victoria’s grip on her skirts tightened. “Joan, please, I’m begging you.”
“Let go of me.”
“I can’t let you do this.”
Joan yanked her skirts free with enough force that Victoria lost her balance and fell sideways. Damian immediately moved to catch their sister, helping her up while shooting Joan a look of pure betrayal.
Joan hardened her heart against it. Against all of it.
“Stay away from me if you’re going to sob,” she said, her voice like winter frost. “I have no patience for that.”
She turned to Damian. “The wedding will be held three days from today. Do you understand?”
Damian held Victoria against his chest, his jaw clenched so tightly Joan could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin. “You’re making a terrible mistake.”
“That’s my decision to make.”
“Joan-”
“Do you understand?” Joan repeated, her voice rising slightly. “Or do I need to travel to London myself?”
The threat worked. Damian’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I understand.”
“Good.”
Joan turned and walked from the room, her spine straight and her head high. She climbed the stairs with measured steps, entered her chamber, and closed the door behind her.
The lock clicked into place with a sound of terrible finality.
For a moment, Joan stood perfectly still, her hand still on the key. Then, slowly, her legs gave out.
She slid down the door until she sat on the floor, her elaborate skirts pooling around her. Her hands began to shake, first just trembling, then shaking so violently she had to press them against the floorboards to keep them still.
Her whole body shook with the force of what she was holding back. The sobs clawed at her throat, demanding release. The tears burned behind her eyes, begging to fall.
But Joan didn’t cry. She had learned long ago that crying accomplished nothing. That one had to stay strong, had to keep moving forward, and had to make the impossible choices.
She had been twelve years old when she’d learned to swallow her grief and terror and keep going.
She’d been fourteen when she’d learned to hide her exhaustion and fear behind a calm smile.
She’d been nineteen when she’d learned to lock away her own dreams and desires for the sake of her family’s survival.
And now, at twenty-four, she would learn to lock away her heart entirely.
That’s all that matters. The family survives.
She sat there on the floor as the afternoon light faded to dusk, as shadows crept across the room, as the manor fell silent around her.
And she didn’t shed a single tear.