He hadn’t intended the words to come out so sharply, but Eliza didn’t flinch. She’d had a lifetime of learning the nuances of her brother’s mannerisms and moods, but she was one of the few people he allowed to speak to him like this without reproach.
“It got you experience,” she said quietly. “And pain, I know. But it doesn’t mean you have to stop hoping altogether. Things happen for a reason, and sometimes, the things that hurt us teach us the most valuable lessons.”
He turned away from the dance floor, his gaze drifting to the high ceiling, the gleaming chandeliers, the flicker of candlelight across gilded moldings. Deep down, he knew his sister was right. She was always so measured and thoughtful in her reasoning. And she saw through him far more clearly than anyone else, despite the walls he had tried to construct around himself for protection.
“I trusted Sophia,” he said after a long pause. “I let myself believe in something. And in the end, she chose a man twice her age because his estate was larger. Because he could offer her a diamond parure and a hunting lodge in Yorkshire.”
Eliza’s voice was soft. “More fool her. She was the one to blame for her predicament.”
“No,” Arthur said, a bitter twist to his mouth. “She was pragmatic. She knew what she wanted, she knew exactly how to get it, and it didn’t have much to do with love on her part. I was the fool.”
He hadn’t spoken of Lady Sophia Carter in years. He had locked that humiliation away, buried it beneath quiet evenings and scholarly pursuits. But the memory still stung.
He had struggled to shake the image of her smiling up at him, her hand on his arm, her promises. They were never explicit, but always implied. He’d believed she reciprocated his feelings and she’d done nothing to dissuade him. There was a brief period of silence followed by the betrothal announcement in theGazette. He hadn’t seen her since.
“You were in love with the idea of her,” Eliza said. “Not the woman herself.”
“Perhaps,” Arthur murmured. “But it was enough to teach me. I have no interest in playing the fool again.”
“Then don’t,” Eliza said, stepping closer. “But don’t let one mistake define your whole life. You hide behind your cynicism as if it’s armor, but it’s just a wall, Arthur. And it’s a lonely one.”
He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the earnestness in her eyes. The hope. The frustration. The affection. Sophia hadn’t owed him anything, but her honesty would have made the heartache much easier. She had ruined him for everyone else.
“You think I should court Miss Darlington?” he asked, sounding more amused than serious.
“I think,” Eliza said with a gentle smile, “you should talk to her. Not every interaction has to end in courtship or disaster. Sometimes people are just… kindred spirits.”
Arthur sighed. “Kindred spirits. It sounds like the sort of nonsense poets scribble into margins.”
Eliza grinned. “Youused to write in margins. I think it’s high time you found yourself a new muse to rekindle your creativity. You always had such a wonderful way with words, Arthur.”
He shook his head, but he didn’t argue.
“And what about you, dear sister?” he asked suddenly. “Have you discovered any promising suitors in tonight’s glittering throng? Surely a sharp eye like yours has narrowed the field.”
Eliza laughed. “Now who’s deflecting?”
Arthur raised a brow, feigning innocence. “I’m merely showing an interest in your prospects.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured, amused. “There are a few gentlemen of note. Mr. Charles Wescott is charming and refreshingly unpretentious. And Captain James… well, I admire his quiet sense. There’s depth there.”
“Ah, so you do have a preference.”
“Not quite,” she replied, her smile more subdued. “I’m simply observing. Just as you are. But unlike you, I’m still open to the idea of something unexpected. Hopeful… even.”
Arthur turned his gaze back to the floor, but her words lingered.
Eliza glanced at him, then tilted her head thoughtfully. “Out of interest, do you think well of them? Wescott and Captain James, I mean. You’ve always been a better judge of character than most, Arthur.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Captain James is… agreeable, honest, implicitly trustworthy, and a genuinely good friend. Well-mannered. Tolerates my cynicism. I appreciate that he doesn’t take himself too seriously. And he seems to genuinely like people. That’s rarer than you might think at these events. I’d also trust him with my life.”
“And Westcott?”
“Steady. Principled. A man who thinks before he speaks. I’d trust him to be honourable.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “And, I suppose, I’d trust him with my sister’s heart.” He paused for a moment, gauging her reaction. “It is obvious that he thinks very highly of you, Eliza.”
Eliza smiled. “That’s the most brotherly thing you’ve said all evening.”
Arthur allowed a chuckle. “I wouldn’t want you to be bored, but I also wouldn’t tolerate anyone making you unhappy. I may have my flaws, but I do keep track of what matters.”
