Chapter 13 #3
“Absolutely,” Alicia affirmed. “She may have molded you into this soft, quiet daughter to present to the ton, enforcing differences on us to allure men with, but I know you are stronger. I believe in you, Sister.”
“Heavens, I have missed you endlessly.” Sibyl squeezed her sister’s arm, smiling at her.
“In truth, rescuing you has rescued me, really. Our dear mama has been mercilessly foisting me on suitors! She knows I will stand for none of it, yet she persists. I’m afraid she will find herself with quite a rebellion on her hands.”
“I have no doubt.” Sibyl giggled. “Do not ever stop fighting back, Alicia. You ought to wed when you are ready. Do not do as I did and settle for simply charming and safe.”
“I have no intention of doing such a thing,” Alicia huffed. “I know my mind, and I do not need a man to try to belittle it. Should I take a husband, it will only be a man who sees my worth as I stand alone as well as at his side.”
In truth, Sibyl was quite surprised that her sister was even entertaining matrimony. Of course, all ladies knew they had to marry or face spinsterhood and exile to the countryside, but she truly had thought Alicia would prefer that.
“I always imagined you sequestered away in the countryside,” she admitted.
“In a nice, modest estate somewhere, gifted by Hermia or Isabella, or even myself. You would write anonymous essays, and ladies of the ton would secretly rave over them, empowered by your words. I am the poet—or once was—but you, Alicia, are the writer. The true writer. I write from the heart, but you write with fire and your brilliant mind. Do not let Mama ever overshadow that, all right?”
Alicia looked at her with wide eyes, as though she had not heard such encouragement for so long. Biting her lip, she nodded. “Thank you, Sibyl. But truly, if I have to force a smile for one more suitor, I shall make him send a physician, for my face will hurt so much.”
Sibyl snorted, catching the attention of a nearby couple who sneered at her. She tensed, but continued walking with her sister.
“Sibyl, how are you doing? Truly.”
“I am…” As she did with Isabella, Sibyl went for honesty. “I remain unsettled by the whole situation, Alicia. Although…”
“Although?” Alicia promoted.
“I find myself rather attracted to my husband,” Sibyl confessed, keeping her voice low. “And I worry I cannot afford it.”
“Why not? Heavens, you have all made things ever so complicated! No wonder I do not want to be involved in this mess. If you like him, then pursue him. He is your husband, Sibyl. If there is anybody you have the utmost freedom to pursue, it is him.”
Sibyl laughed a little. “Yes, but he is a mystery—”
“A very handsome, big mystery.”
“And those are never safe,” Sibyl finished firmly.
“Oh, Sibyl,” Alicia sighed. “Who cares about safe? Safe is for ladies who are not like you. Ladies who are scared. And you are not scared. Being unsafe is fun. Being safe is different, challenging. Goodness, being unsafe keeps your life exciting.”
“Being unsafe can get me into a lot of trouble,” Sibyl scolded. “With my heart, with my safety, and not to mention Rosie.”
“Sibyl, you have never been one to overthink the negatives. That was for Hermia and Isabella. You always followed your heart, and I think your heart aches for what the Duke could provide for you. Where is that sister I always teased for daydreaming of kisses and love and moonlight dances in some romantic setting? You could have that if you follow your heart.”
Sibyl blushed. But before she could respond, a group of ladies walked up to them, pointedly slowing down as their eyes slid over her and Alicia.
“You would think a duchess would make more of an effort to look fine at her first ball,” one lady scoffed.
“Perhaps the Duke did not want to buy her a new gown.” Another giggled. “After all, people say he was not quiet about his reasons for marrying her. Not to mention that she comes with baggage.”
Sibyl’s heart sank to the floor at her daughter being called baggage.
“Well, Lord Ferdinand has his own thoughts about the Duke’s and Duchess’s hasty marriage.”
“One wonders if her daughter is even Lord Kerrington’s at all.”
“Lady Windon,” Sibyl cut in, her rage flaring. “My effort was simply following suit. I do believe I fit right into your… gaggle of women.”
“Gaggle of geese, more like,” Alicia snorted. “Now, ladies, how about you run along and criticize another poor soul rather than take out your frustrations on a baby? Are you truly so bored? I should tell Lord and Lady Livingston how boring their ball is, for you keep resorting to idle gossip.”
“Bold words for a lady who has still not been asked to dance at all tonight,” Lady Windon sneered.
“How about you return to your cold bed and wonder who else’s bed your husband warms, Lady Windon?” Alicia snapped.
Sibyl stepped in front of her. “Do not speak ill of my sister’s success on the marriage mart. Better to wait than, as she said, return to a cold bed.”
“Well, you would be the expert, Your Grace,” Lady Windon purred.
Sibyl pulled Alicia away first before her sister could launch herself at the women. She had seen it happen plenty of times when Alicia used to take out her fury on her tutor, not afraid to show her claws, no matter how much their parents scolded her for it.
But just as they turned, Sibyl intending on guiding Alicia over to the balcony for some air, they walked right into their mother, who looked expectant.
“Ah! There you are, I have been looking all over for you,” she said, pulling on Alicia’s wrist. “I do hope you were not causing trouble. Here, Lord Robert has returned to speak with you. He is most keen on asking for your first dance.”
“But Mama—”
“Hush now, Alicia.”
Alicia looked back at Sibyl helplessly before she was pulled into the crowd by their mother, unwillingly. Even from where Sibyl stood, she could see how Alicia tried to keep tugging away, but Sibyl knew well enough how steel-like their mother’s grip was.
Sibyl was left alone, unable to find Gabriel in the crowd, unable to find one familiar, friendly face. Suddenly, her whole body prickled with heat.
The ladies who had accosted her were whispering to others, and those people began whispering to others, and soon Sibyl felt as though the entire ballroom was staring at her.
The walls closed in on her, and the floor seemed to rise. Her neck flushed, and she ducked her head, backing up until she was at the short staircase.
Whirling around, she rushed out of the ballroom and fled down the hallway. She pushed her way into the farthest room, far away enough that she could not even hear the music.
Pressing her forehead against the door, she breathed heavily, trying to force the tension out of her body. There were no eyes in here, nobody to watch her or scold her or tell her that she was not enough.
Slowly, she lifted her head and scanned the room. It looked like a classroom, with a blackboard on the wall and a globe mounted on a side table. A desk stood off to one side, and a leather armchair sat beneath a window tall enough that if Sibyl sat down, she would still see the night sky.
Alicia was right; she had once followed her heart, until her heart had met dead end after dead end, both because of her mother and Edmund, and now…
And now Gabriel.
Everything was just so confusing.
She buried her face in her hands as she collapsed into the chair.