“She’ll come to understand?—”
“She’ll come to hate you. Just like I came to hate my father.”
Hugo turned away from her, walking back to the window.
“You don’t understand the situation.”
“I understand that you’re so terrified of losing control that you’d rather destroy your daughter’s happiness than trust her judgment.”
His shoulders were rigid with tension. “She’s my daughter. It’s my responsibility to protect her.”
“Then protect her happiness, not your pride. Trust that you’ve raised her well enough to make good choices.”
“And if she’s wrong? If Pemberton proves unworthy?”
“Then she’ll learn. But if you kill him, she’ll never have that chance.”
Hugo looked older in the lamplight, worn down by his own rigid expectations.
“I can’t risk her future on the chance that she knows better than I do.”
“Then you’ve already lost her.”
Sybil turned toward the door, knowing there was nothing more she could say.
“Where are you going?” Hugo asked sharply.
“Somewhere I can think clearly. Somewhere I don’t have to watch you destroy everything good in your life.”
She reached for the door handle, but Hugo’s voice stopped her.
“Sybil, wait. You can’t simply leave?—”
“I’m not your daughter, Hugo. I’m not subject to your authority.”
“You’re my wife?—”
“I’m a woman who made the mistake of thinking you were capable of more than cold calculation.” She turned back to face him. “I was wrong.”
With that, she left him standing in his study, utterly alone.
Three days later, Sybil sat in her childhood bedroom, staring out at the London streets. The room felt smaller than she remembered, shabby compared to the luxury she’d grown accustomed to.
How quickly one’s world can collapse.
A soft knock interrupted her brooding. Her mother entered with tea.
“I thought you might like some refreshment. You’ve barely eaten since you arrived.”
“I’m not particularly hungry, Mama.”
“Nevertheless, you must keep up your strength.” Her mother poured tea with practiced precision. “Have you heard from your husband?”
“No. And I don’t expect to.”
“He seemed quite devoted to you at your wedding.”
“He was devoted to the idea of a convenient wife who would manage his household without questioning his authority.”
