“Your Grace?—”
“We are returning to London, Duchess,” he reiterated. “I know you are scared, but you do not have to be. You are not powerless, not the way you have been made to feel in the past. You are the Duchess of Stonehelm now, and that carries more weight than you realize.”
“Duchess or not, people will still gossip.”
“Words cannot hurt you.”
So why have they my whole life? From my mother, from even my sisters in our younger days, for always feeling foolish for wanting a perfect, romantic life. Words can be just as sharp as physical weapons.
“I can see you are scared?—”
“Of course I am scared!” she cried, shoving her chair back and rising to her feet. “You were not the one blamed for your husband’s addiction, infidelity, and death. You had nothing to lose when we met, but I was blamed for everything. So yes, I am terrified, for I have seen how the ton turns on people. They have already made us their target.”
“Duchess—”
She was already running away from the table, knowing they were going back to London regardless of her reservations. However, she needed time to prepare herself without being watched.
The Duke didn’t judge her; she knew that. And she yearned for his promised protection. Yet, she couldn’t swallow back her worry.
Not yet. Not until she faced itall.
It was not going to be easy, yet as Sibyl found solace in holding her daughter close in the nursery while her trunks were packed, she tried to comfort herself with the fact that at least she wouldn’t be facing it all alone.
Rochdale House’s gardens were in full bloom as Sibyl and Isabella took a leisurely walk. Behind them, Hannah walked with Rosie in her arms, and Sibyl smiled at the sounds of her daughter’s gurgles as she took in the gardens.
Sibyl knew exactly what was coming and braced herself.
“Go on, then,” she prompted lightly. “Ask me as I asked you.”
Isabella gave her a knowing smile. “Very well. I was going to give you a respite, actually. Hermia would have peppered you with questions the moment you walked through the door.”
“You have always kept most of your thoughts to yourself,” Sibyl noted.
“Indeed, and I know you like to take your time. But how are you, Sibyl? Truly.”
Sibyl used to get so frustrated when her sisters put on happy faces in the early days of their marriages. She had always known something was amiss and always wanted to press them, but now she understood why they used to do that.
She, too, wanted to do it more than anything. Instead, she let herself acknowledge the loneliness of Stonehelm Hall, the strange tension, and how she wished she had someone to talk to about her feelings. Now, she could.
“I am well enough,” she answered, “and my husband… he is confusing.”
“Are they not all the same?” Isabella laughed softly, nudging her with her elbow. “But you are smart, do not forget that. Men are not as hard to understand as they seem. Their silence often means they are torn, and their efforts eventually show. One day, they simply… snap.”
Sibyl released a shaky breath as she recalled the tenderness of the Duke’s kiss—the tenderness that had quickly turned into hot passion, as though his restraint had snapped.
Isabella raised an eyebrow. “Unless the Duke already has?”
“I…” Sibyl bit her lip as they rounded a corner, entering a walled rose garden.
She glanced back at Hannah, nodding for her to stay just outside the entrance. Then, she guided Isabella to a stone bench in the center of the garden.
“We kissed last night. I was making tea in the kitchen, and he returned looking…wild.There is no other word for it. He has been disappearing at night and often returns bruised. I pretend not to notice because he does not acknowledge the pain. I do not even know how it all happened. One moment, he was massaging my back; the next, we were kissing.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
“Conflicted,” Sibyl admitted. “The kiss itself was wonderful—I have never experienced anything like it. It felt…” She blushed, ducking her head.
But this was her sister. She had been closer to Hermia growing up, with Isabella and Alicia both similar in temperament, while Sibyl and Hermia had always been gentler. But now she felt much closer to Isabella.
