“I don’t know,” Sybil admitted. “I’ve never been married.”
“Neither have I,” Rosalie pointed out with impeccable logic. “But I do know Papa. And I know he doesn’t make offers like this lightly. If he asked you to marry him, it’s because he genuinely believes you’re what our family needs.”
What your family needs. But what about what I need?
The question hung in the air between them, unspoken but somehow present, nonetheless.
“It would be a pity if you said no,” Rosalie continued quietly. “I rather hoped… well… I’d like very much to have you as a stepmother. We all would.”
The simple honesty in her voice made Sybil’s chest tighten with unexpected emotion.This girl. This brave, intelligent, impossible girl.
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Because you look at us like we matter,” Rosalie said simply. “Not like problems to be solved or ornaments to be displayed but like actual people with thoughts and feelings worth considering. That’s rarer than you might think.”
“You do matter,” Sybil said firmly. “All of you. You’re remarkable young women with bright futures ahead of you.”
“See?” Rosalie’s smile was radiant. “That’s exactly what I mean. Papa sees it too, but he has trouble saying it. He shows his love through worry and protection and occasionally dramatic rescues from lakes.”
Despite everything, Sybil found herself smiling. “Dramatic rescues seem to be a family specialty.”
“Only when necessary,” Rosalie said with dignity then spoiled the effect by grinning. “Though I admit we do seem to require more rescuing than the average family.”
Because you’re all too brave for your own good. Just like your father.
“Perhaps that’s not entirely a bad thing,” Sybil said softly. “The world needs people who are willing to take risks for others.”
“Even when those risks involve jumping between rocks in lakes?”
“Perhaps smaller risks would be advisable until you’re older,” Sybil suggested diplomatically.
Rosalie laughed, the sound bright and infectious. “You really would make an excellent stepmother. Patient but firm, understanding but not naive. Papa chose well.”
Papa chose well.If only Sybil could be as certain of that as Rosalie seemed to be.
“I should get back to work,” she said, turning toward the remaining beds. “These won’t organize themselves.”
“Of course.” Rosalie rose from her chair, moving carefully to avoid jarring her injured arm. “But if I may be a bit bold? Don’t let fear decide for you. Sometimes the biggest risk is not taking any risk at all.”
Sometimes the biggest risk is not taking any risk at all.
As Rosalie left the room, her words echoed in Sybil’s mind with uncomfortable accuracy.
Because the truth was, she was afraid. Terrified, actually.
Afraid of trusting the Duke’s promises. Afraid of caring about his daughters and having that care thrown back in her face when his practical arrangement no longer suited him. Afraid of betraying Emmie’s memory by embracing the very society that had destroyed her.
But most of all, she was afraid of the way her heart raced when that man looked at her, the way her skin burned where he’d touched her, the way her treacherous mind kept imagining what it might be like to build something real with him.
Something that goes beyond practical arrangements and mutual benefit.
Because despite all her rational arguments and careful caution, despite every lesson Emmie’s tragedy had taught her about the dangers of trusting men, there was a part of her that wanted to say yes.
A part that whispered this might be her chance at something she’d never dared to dream of.
A real family. A real partnership. A real life.
Rosalie’s words hung in the air like a challenge, daring her to be the woman she’d once been before loss and betrayal had taught her to be careful.
