Chapter 17
“Explain what happened,” Honora said. She took a sip from her cup of tea and narrow her eyes at Dorothy.
“I’ve explained it,” Dorothy said. “I’ve been over it three times now.”
It wasn’t that she was tired of talking about what had transpired the night before.
If anything, she wished she was at liberty to discuss it in more detail.
She wanted to tell her sisters about meeting Colin, about the vulnerability Nathaniel had finally showed when the two of them had been alone, about the way he’d looked at her as she was getting ready to leave.
But she couldn’t talk about any of that, of course.
In part because she had sworn up and down to herself that she would never, ever tell anyone where she’d been last night.
Even for a lady who had no intentions of entering the marriage mart, a story like that could be ruinous, and she knew it.
The scandal that would attach itself to her name would follow her for the rest of her life.
No one would believe she’d gone home with a man in order to tend to a sick child she had never met before.
She couldn’t quite believe that herself.
Honora and Abigail would believe it even less.
They already thought she was being courted by Nathaniel, and they would take this as proof.
She didn’t know whether they would be delighted, insisting that this proved the two of them couldn’t stay away from one another, or if they would be angry that she had put herself in a compromising position.
Either way, she had no desire to face their reaction.
She wanted last night to be hers and hers alone. She wanted to treasure it, to take it out of her memory and look at it when she was alone, to turn it over and over until every little detail had been thoroughly examined.
That wasn’t what her sisters wanted. They wanted an interrogation. They wanted answers.
Abigail leaned forward, her eyes softening. “You can’t fault us for being worried, Dorothy,” she murmured, trying another tack. “You left the party without us. Anything might have happened to you.”
“The plan was always for me to leave the party without you,” Dorothy reminded them. “The two of you were supposed to go back to your own homes last night. I’m not even sure why you came here.”
“You do know why,” Honora countered. “It’s because we didn’t know where you were, and we needed to find you. And then we arrived here, and you weren’t here, and we thought something dreadful must have happened.”
“But nothing bad did happen,” Dorothy said. “I told you what it was. I went for a long ride on the way home.”
“Hours long?” Honora challenged. “It’s difficult to believe, Dorothy.”
“Well, I needed time to myself,” Dorothy said sharply. “Time to think. I never do get any privacy, you know, because my house is always full of sisters.”
Honora and Abigail looked at one another.
Dorothy regretted her sharp words. “Of course you’re always welcome here,” she amended.
“You know that isn’t what I mean. I’m fortunate that I was able to retain this house after our parents’ death.
I know that.” There was a distant cousin who ought to have inherited, but he had written of his lack of interest and offered the place to Dorothy.
That had been years ago. While there had been some fear, at first, that he might someday change his mind and arrive on the doorstep, it was clear now that he would never come.
The fact that both Honora and Abigail were widows was a painful detail that hung like a cloud over every conversation.
Dorothy ached constantly for her sisters, for their loneliness, for the grief she’d seen them endure.
She would never tell them that they couldn’t spend time here in her home, nor did she really feel she had the right to do so.
As children this place had belonged to all of them, and even though they had homes of their own now, Honora and Abigail still felt like a part of it.
“It isn’t safe for you to ride around at night like that,” Honora told her firmly. “And besides, Dorothy, you said yourself that you didn’t know we were going to be here, so why would you go somewhere else just to avoid us?”
“My question is why you left the party without telling anyone you were going,” Abigail said. “People did notice, Dorothy. It wasn’t just the two of us.”
“I’m sure you two called attention to it once you realized I wasn’t there,” Dorothy countered. “You probably started asking everyone whether they had seen me. Am I right?”
“We wouldn’t have had to do that if you hadn’t frightened us,” Honora snapped. “If you hadn’t run off without so much as a word.”
“Dorothy, you must realize that the three of us are all we have,” Abigail said. “Now that Mother and Father are gone, and…”
She looked away and pressed a hand to her mouth, stopping her words.
Honora put a hand on Abigail’s shoulder, but she didn’t speak either.
Dorothy couldn’t find words. Her sisters had been through so much with the loss of their husbands. Tragedy had hit this family too many times already. Of course they were anxious that it might happen again. Of course they didn’t want to take chances with Dorothy’s safety.
“It won’t happen again,” she pledged, knowing that it was true. This had certainly been a one-time event. “I can promise you that, Abigail, Honora. You won’t have to worry about this in the future. I’ll come straight home from now on, and I’ll tell you where I’m going at all times.”
Honora sighed. “I’m glad you understand, Dorothy,” she said. “But you know that it isn’t just about us, don’t you? I mean, we were worried. Very much so. But that’s not the only concern. It’s not even the main concern.”
“Of course it is,” Dorothy objected. “That’s what I care about most, Honora. That I caused you to worry. That’s not something I ever want to do.”
“But what matters most to me is what you did to your reputation,” Honora said.
“Honora,” Abigail murmured, “I don’t think we need to focus on that right now. Dorothy has promised not to do it again.”
“But she needs to understand the full impact of her choices,” Honora insisted. “Don’t you remember what it was like after she left the party?”
“Nobody said anything,” Abigail said. “Nobody suggested that she was doing anything scandalous.”
“They may not have said it aloud, but I can tell you for certain that everyone was thinking it.” Honora’s tone darkened.
“Did you see the way people looked at me? At one another? Everyone was speculating. People will have rushed to the scandal sheets this morning to see whether there is any mention of her.”
“And there isn’t,” Abigail pointed out mildly.
“You already looked?” Dorothy asked.
“I looked first thing,” Honora told her. “You don’t seem to understand how much worry this has caused, Dorothy. You don’t seem to realize how much trouble you might have made for yourself.”
“Well…but you said there was nothing reported,” Dorothy said. She lifted her chin. “And of course there wouldn’t be, because nothing happened. The worst anyone could possibly say is that no one knew where I was for a little while. That’s hardly a story.”
“People can say worse than that, Dorothy,” Abigail told her gently.
“People can say anything they like, and the ton loves to gossip. You know that as well as we do. You know how likely it is that you might find yourself at the center of a rumor, whether it’s true or not.
How many young ladies have we seen that happen to? ”
“Abigail is right,” Honora said. “And if you don’t manage to keep your behavior under control, if you ruin your reputation, you’ll spoil any chance at finding a husband.”
For some reason, all of a sudden, that was more than Dorothy could bear.
She was used to having this conversation with her sisters.
They’d had it many times before. But this time, it got to her.
“Why are we talking about husbands?” she demanded.
“Why does everything in every conversation have to come back to that? I’m nearly a spinster as it is.
A young lady of my age, who has been out as long as I have without finding a husband…
the one good thing about my position is that I ought not to have to worry with every move I make about what people are thinking.
No one is thinking of me at all, and we all know it.
I deserve to have the luxury of a little freedom, because I’m not going to have a courtship. ”
“What are you talking about, Dorothy?” Abigail asked. “What about the Duke of Henshaw. He’s taken an interest in you.”
“The Duke of Henshaw is not interested in me,” Dorothy said firmly. “We share the same friends. That’s all it is. That’s the only thing that has ever been between us. You two think you see something else, but you’re wrong, I promise you.”
Dorothy’s sisters looked at one another again.
“Don’t,” Dorothy complained. “Don’t look at each other as if I’m a problem you’re trying to decide how to solve.
Do you think I don’t see it when you do that?
Do you think I don’t understand what it means?
You think you know better than I do, even though I’m the one who actually spends time with the duke.
But you don’t know better. You don’t know what goes on between the two of us.
You think you know everything, but you know nothing. ”
“Dorothy, why would you speak to us like that?” Abigail sat back, a hand pressed to her heart. “You know that we only want to help you, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course I know,” Dorothy sighed.
“But your expectations are too much for anyone to bear, Abigail. And Honora is worse. Why can’t the two of you accept things as they are?
It’s awful for me the way you keep dreaming of something that’s never going to happen, because every day I feel as if I’m letting you down.
Just accept that I’m not going to marry.
I’m going to be a spinster, and what’s the harm in it?
The three of us have one another. We have homes.
We have enough money to get by. It won’t be a terrible life. ”
“But Dorothy,” Honora said, her voice softening for the first time. “It’s not enough that your life not be terrible. We want you to have everything, don’t you understand that? We want you to have love in your life.”
Like you did, you mean?
She didn’t say it. It was much too cruel to say out loud. It was the one thing she would never say to her sisters. But the thought was never far from her mind, either.
They had both found love, as they wanted her to.
They had both believed that happiness was in their grasp.
And then, for both of them, it had gone away.
It had been ripped from them violently by illness, which was something that could strike anyone at any time.
You couldn’t do anything to ensure you would be safe from such a terrible tragedy.
The only way to keep from living through the grief her sisters had experienced was never to let herself fall in love at all. And that meant the life of a spinster, for she had no desire to enter into a loveless marriage.
Yes, it would be lonely. Yes, it might be hard. But it was as she had said. It wouldn’t be terrible.
Grieving the loss of a husband would be.
It still felt like a miracle sometimes that her sisters had come through that pain. It was still hard to believe that she had them back, and that they were happy more days than they were sad. She was grateful for it, but she was never, ever going to put herself in that position.
But she knew that was the one thing she could never say to them. They would try to argue with her. They’d try to convince her that she needed to give marriage a chance.
That argument wouldn’t be fair to anybody.
She wouldn’t put her sisters through that pain.