Chapter 27
Final Hypothesis: Romantic love is a sequence of biological impulses, cognitive distortions, and territorial instincts. The illusion of “depth” arises only when the Subject is skilled enough to manipulate these responses.
Love is a delusion.
“You will not stay in this house another week.”
Theodora’s head snapped up at the sound of her father’s voice.
Lord Dowell stood in the doorway of the library with an expression carved from stone.
She and her mother sat huddled together on the small sofa near the window, their tea untouched, their hands clasped tightly.
Theodora felt hollow and wrung out. Her eyes were swollen and dry.
She had cried until her body simply refused to produce another tear.
Her father stomped inside. “I have written to the Sisters of Saint Aldwyn, and they have agreed to take you into their fold. You will leave next week.”
Her mother rose so quickly the teacups rattled. “Benjamin, I disagree with this decision.”
“It is already set in stone,” he said, brushing past her as though she were a piece of furniture.
“You are making our daughter pay for your own sins!” Her mother’s voice rose with fury. “This is cruelty, not discipline.”
Lord Dowell whipped around, eyes narrowing in her mother’s direction. “My sins? Have you forgotten that your daughter defiled herself with a man? Am I the only one thinking clearly in this house? I am protecting this family’s reputation!”
“You say that she has defiled herself all while forgetting that you have defiled our marriage!” Lady Dowell crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly.
“Our situations are not the same. Theodora compromised herself and her dignity when she laid with that abominable man.” The Viscount cast a loathsome look at Theo. “I will not allow her transgressions to taint our family name. She must leave at once!”
Lady Dowell snorted and fixed him with a piercing glare. “If Theodora goes, so do I.”
The Viscount stared at her with his mouth agape, then he rallied and replied, “You do not know what you are saying.”
“I do.” Lady Dowell looked condescendingly down the length of her nose at her husband. “When, you send Theodora away, I wish to go with her.”
“Mother, you cannot—”
“You are not going anywhere!” Lord Dowell cut Theodora off with a hiss.
“You are punishing Theo because you cannot bear to face what you have done,” her mother shot back. “You are punishing her because you lost control of your own household.”
He ignored her entirely, as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “Theodora will be ready by Sunday. The carriage will take her to the station.”
“Benjamin!” her mother cried.
But he was already walking out, his coat swaying behind him. He didn’t look back. The door shut with a final, echoing click.
Silence settled over the room like dust.
Theodora stared at the empty doorway, her mind blank. She felt nothing. No anger. No fear. No grief. She had cried herself dry over the course of the last two nights until her body had simply shut down. Now she felt numb, as though she were watching her life from somewhere far away.
Her mother sank back onto the sofa beside her. “Theo… my darling…”
“Mother, you cannot come to a convent with me. That is not your burden to bear. I have made a mistake and deserve to face this repercussion.” Theodora squeezed her mother’s hand.
Tears gathered in Lady Dowell’s green eyes. “I do not want to lose you.”
“You will not,” Theodora whispered. Her voice sounded foreign, scraped raw from all the emotions. “I do not have anything left here. Life at a convent does not seem so bad and you can visit me.”
She offered her mother a small reassuring smile.
But her mother’s face crumpled. “Oh, sweetheart…”
Theodora stared at her hands. They didn’t feel like hers. Nothing felt like hers anymore. “He is really sending me away, Mother. There is nothing we can do.”
Lady Dowell nodded as she cried. “He cannot get away this.”
Theodora swallowed. “He will because it was my wrongdoing.”
“No. It is because of his own selfish reasons,” she corrected gently. “Not because of anyone else.”
Theodora let out a shaky breath. “I am sorry, Mother. I know how much you loved Father and I thought he loved you too, until...”
Her mother closed her eyes for a moment, as if steadying herself. When she opened them again, there was clarity there Theodora had never seen before.
“There was never any real love between us.”
Theodora was taken aback by her words. Her mother always spoke about how in love she was with Lord Dowell even when she and her sister witnessed otherwise.
“I do not understand.”
Lady Dowell gave a small, sad smile. “Your Father and I were young when we married. We were matched by our parents and considered to be… compatible enough. Eventually, we grew used to each other. That was all.”
“But you never—” Theodora struggled to find the right word. “—you never said anything. I mean, I thought there was more than what Evelina and I had seen and we imagined that perhaps it was just hidden from us.”
“Oh no, darling. I gave up expecting more from your father long ago,” her mother said.
“Not sweetness, nor tenderness, nor affection. Those things were luxuries, and not necessities. That is what I was taught. But I always tried to make you and Evelina believe in the possibilities of love. So, we agreed not to argue in front of you girls and to keep the peace. And for a long time, I believed we respected each other until…”
“Until I told you about his affair.” Theodora finished for her.
Her mother looked towards the door where her husband had just walked through. “And I am grateful for that, Theo. Because now I know that he clearly did not respect me.”
Theodora’s chest tightened. “But I am so very sorry…”
Her mother reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Theodora’s face. “Do not apologize. When you and Evelina grew up and started the Corset Chronicles I decided to spend some time alone in Bath. I was much happier there. I did not realize how unhappy I was with your father until I left.”
Theodora admired the woman before her. She saw her mother in a new light.
She always believed that her running away to Bath showed weakness but today she realized that her mother was independent.
She did what felt right for her. It was slightly disheartening then that she and her sister had not spent more time with their mother, but Theodora knew that even if they had, Lady Dowell would not have told them the truth about how she felt.
“Why did you not leave altogether?”
“Because of you,” her mother said softly. “Because I could not leave you or your sister behind.”
Theodora’s throat burned.
She stayed for me.
“I am so sorry.”
Her mother shook her head. “No. You do not apologize for his choices.”
Theodora leaned into her mother’s shoulder, exhaustion weighing her down. “I do not know what to do.”
“Nor do I.” Her mother wrapped an arm around her. “But we will think of something.”
“Father has already written to them,” Theodora whispered. “He already decided.”
“Then we will decide something else,” her mother said firmly. “Together.”
Theodora closed her eyes. She wished she could believe her mother’s words but they both knew that it was too late. For the first time that week, since Alexander walked away, she felt something warm press against the numbness inside her. Only a mother’s love could do that.
“We will not let him send you away without a fight,” Lady Dowell mumbled.
Theodora let out a slow breath and rested against her. “I do not want to go.”
“I know,” her mother whispered.
They sat like that for a long time, holding each other, two women trying to comfort one another in a house that had never truly been a home.
And Theodora realized, painfully, that her mother was not just a quiet, gentle presence in the background.
She was a woman who had endured heartbreak long before Theodora ever knew what the word meant.
* * *
“This is your last day with us?” Maria’s voice cracked as she spoke. Her hands froze around the teacup she just picked up.
Theodora gulped. Since she was leaving in the next week her father has allowed her to visit Evelina for the last time.
She considered not telling them anything at all but as soon as they saw her, they knew something was wrong.
And once Theodora started talking about it, she could not stop.
It was as if a floodgate had opened. The girls were utterly shocked and hung on every word.
“Theo?” Maria asked again.
Theodora lifted her eyes from the carpet. She had been staring at the same patch of woven flowers for so long she could trace every thread. Her chest felt hollow after she explained her situation to her friends.
“Yes, it is,” she said sadly.
Anna let out a soft gasp. “Theo… no. This cannot be happening.”
Evelina was pacing the length of her drawing room. Her eyes were red and shining. She kept wringing her hands, stopping only to glare at Theodora with a mixture of hurt and disbelief.
“How could you not tell me?” she burst out. “How could you not tell me about the affair? And about you and the Duke of Hawthorne?”
Theodora flinched. She had expected this and dreaded it. But hearing it aloud still felt like a slap.
“I am sorry, Evelina,” she whispered.
“Sorry?” Evelina’s voice cracked. “You are my sister. I tell you everything. Everything. And you—” She broke off, pressing a trembling hand to her mouth. “You did not tell me any of this.”
Anna stepped between the sisters. “Evelina, breathe. Theodora has been through enough without being made to feel guilty for keeping her own counsel.”
Evelina snapped her head towards Anna. “She is being sent away to a convent because of this debacle. Because of this Scarlet Duke. If she told us—”
“Evelina,” Maria said firmly, already moving towards the tea tray. “All of you sit down before you fall over.”