Chapter 28
ALONE FOR THE LONG CARRIAGE RIDE, ANNABEL GAZED OUT AT the gently rolling landscape in a state of inner turmoil.
At least she had time to think, even if her thinking was as rough and uneven as the road itself.
If she’d had more time, maybe she could have found a way to make Henry understand.
But it had happened so fast: his arrival at Norwood, Cassie’s letter, her vehement defense of her sister.
She was running on instinct and feeling alone.
She didn’t know what she’d do when she got to Lyme Regis, but she had to talk to Cassie, without interference or influence.
Her sister had always been fiercely independent, took big chances, quickly moved on from her mistakes.
She had a winning mindset; whatever she set her mind to, she did.
Now, she’d been taken low by a situation not of her own making nor within her control.
For Annabel, going alone to Lyme Regis, hearing her out, even if she didn’t know how it would, or should, end—she owed Cassie that much.
She stepped out of the carriage as night fell, looked up at the modest inn, and braced herself for whatever she’d find inside.
“Come in!” Cassie said with a fake singsong voice when she heard the knock on the door.
Annabel walked in to find Cassie alone, sitting at a dressing table in a white nightgown, brushing her hair. She didn’t turn but glanced at Annabel in the mirror.
“Oh. It’s you.”
Annabel took off her hat. “Where’s Revell?”
“I don’t know. Off to a pub, probably.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
“I’m not exactly in the mood. Plus, he didn’t ask me.”
“You’ve never waited to be asked before.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a little confusing being a girl here sometimes. In case you didn’t notice.”
Annabel nodded. She took the liberty of sitting at the end of the bed, where they could see each other’s reflections more easily.
“Revell could be back any time,” Cassie said. “So, unless you want to have it out with him, you probably don’t want to get comfortable.”
“I didn’t come for Revell. I came for you.”
Cassie set her jaw and brushed three hard strokes, avoiding Annabel’s reflection.
“I can marry him if I want to.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Maybe.”
Annabel set her hat beside her, took off her gloves, and laid them aside too. “Cassie. Revell’s only interested in your money.”
Cassie looked at her sister in the mirror. “But I don’t have any money.”
“Henry’s money, he now considers yours.”
“Because you’re engaged to him?”
“Yes.”
Cassie’s shoulders sagged. “You think that didn’t occur to me?”
Annabel didn’t move, say anything. Cassie planted her palm on her forehead.
“God. That didn’t occur to me. I thought he was just interested in my tits.” She set the brush down. “At least the tits are mine.”
The two sisters burst into a short laugh—completely unexpected—one high, one low, one with a hand on her mouth, one with her head tilted up.
There is always a Venn diagram of sisters, some sympathy of overlapping circles, no matter how different they are.
Here was the sliver that was theirs, in the shape of a marquise diamond.
They’d found it at Lyme Regis within two minutes of being together. But it was a poignant laugh too.
“See,” said Cassie. “I can be ironic. I’m not totally hopeless.”
“I never thought you were.”
Cassie bowed her head and started to cry quietly. Annabel took a kerchief from her purse, stood, and gave it to her.
“Will you come sit with me?” she asked.
Cassie nodded without looking up. Annabel took her hand and led her to the bed, where Cassie sat beside her, one leg tucked under. Sisters, at oblique angles.
She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes. “You know, I tried to read Pride and Prejudice once. I really did. But it seemed like nothing even happens for the first forty pages, which is when I gave up because I thought watching paint dry might be more fun.”
“Lots of people feel that way.”
Cassie nodded, then blew her nose into the kerchief.
“You know, Cassie, I haven’t given you nearly enough credit for how hard this has been. I mean, stuck here in a place you don’t like, having to give up your life, not to mention your dream job.”
Cassie finished wiping her nose. “Well, not exactly ‘give up.’”
Annabel cocked her head.
“I’m not really on hiatus . . . Our sponsors dropped us . . . Even Skims backed away.”
“Why?” said Annabel. “I thought you were so . . . wild on Notting Hill!”
“We were. But apparently, they draw the line at pubic hair.”
Annabel tried not to smile. But then Cassie laughed through her tears and looked down at her prim white gown.
“I know. And look at me now.”
“What about the streaming deal?”
“They ‘went another way.’ Then my agent dropped me.”
“Ouch,” said Annabel. “Or, burn? . . . Snap?”
“Exactly.” Cassie barely managed a smile. “You go from, like, a zillion followers and a gazillion views, you’re this influencer, actually influencing people! Then you make one tiny misstep and everyone just moves on, yawn, so yesterday. And that’s it. You’re over.”
“That’s brutal,” said Annabel.
“Anyway, I tried to tell Mom, but she’s so invested in me being that person, I couldn’t do it. And since I wasn’t ready to go face all that, ‘hiatus’ was hatched.” Cassie looked at Annabel. “And she really did want me to come talk to you and threw in the Bloomingdale’s bribe . . . so here I am.”
“Lucky you.”
“Lucky me.”
“Does Billy know?”
“He was having such a blast. I couldn’t tell him.” Cassie sighed. “But lately I’m wondering if he did know and just played along so I wouldn’t feel bad.”
“That sounds like Billy.”
“He is, actually, a really sweet guy. And not that he was ever going to be, like, a real thing for me . . .” She looked around the room as if it encapsulated her situation. “But how did I get here? This? Glad for whatever dickhead will date me.”
Annabel squeezed her hand. Cassie looked out the window, at her own faint reflection in the watery glass.
“I guess I’ve always taken for granted that I had so many choices. All the choices. But here it feels like I have none.” She sad-laughed and looked at her sister. “I mean, how do women put up with this shit?”
Annabel couldn’t help but laugh too.
“I know it’s not like that for you,” Cassie said. “Somehow it’s easy for you here.” She worried the kerchief. “Talk about ‘bring about what you think about.’”
“I didn’t mean to manifest this,” said Annabel.
“But you did. What you’ve always said you wanted.”
It was Annabel’s turn to gaze out the night window.
It was true that this world had welcomed her, embraced who she was in a way her own world never had, leaving Cassie at sea.
But her quarrel with Henry, and Fanny, had bared a friction point.
She wouldn’t sacrifice her sister to the cause of living out her dream.
She was desperately afraid to lose Henry over it, but this was a hill she’d die on.
She turned her body toward Cassie and touched the lace on her sister’s sleeve. “If we stick together, whatever happens, maybe it doesn’t have to be so hard.”
Cassie got teary again and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “But this is. Really hard. And the truth is, I’ve never had to do ‘hard.’”
“But you won’t be alone. You have me.”
Cassie blew into the handkerchief again, a big honk. “It’s not like I’ve been the model older sister or anything.”
“But you’re still my sister.”
Cassie looked at her, dead-on. “The truth is, it’s me that’s always been jealous of you.”
Annabel pulled her chin back. “Me? Who all my life everyone’s treated like some nerdy girl with her nose in a book, head in the clouds—definitely the less significant sister?”
“But you knew it wasn’t true. And so did I.”
Annabel shook her head.
“That thing, about you wanting to write a novel since you were, like, six? Always knowing who you were. Never ever giving up on it. Never bending to what anyone else thought you should be or do or look like? Do you have any idea how much I admired that?”
Annabel looked into her lap, her own eyes glassy with tears.
“Well, I did. And I do.” Cassie lifted her sister’s chin to look her right in the eye. “And I may not know shit about Regency England, but I do know, if I really had a house somewhere, I’d name it ‘Annabel.’ Because that would reflect everything I believe is beautiful . . . and good.”
They were both crying now. By candlelight, the two sisters leaned toward each other, their foreheads touching, for the very first time in their lives.