Isadora shot her a glare though the heat rising to her cheeks betrayed her.
“You are being ridiculous,” she said stiffly. “Just because I am notentirelymiserable does not mean I—” She waved a hand. “—likehim.”
“Is that really such a bad thing?” Penelope questioned. “To like your own husband?”
“Well, no,” Isadora shook her head. “But I am merely saying that it is not the point that I am trying to make here.”
Penelope smirked. “You just spent a full ten minutes ranting about him. And before that, you were talking about how much you have observed him. His mannerisms, his expressions?—”
“Because I must!” Isadora cut in quickly.
“Must you?”
Isadora pressed her lips together, feeling as though she had walked straight into a trap.
Penelope sighed, her expression turning more thoughtful. “I suppose it is not so terrible, then.”
Isadora arched a brow. “What is not so terrible?”
Penelope linked their arms. “That you are not unhappy. That your marriage is not a complete disaster.”
Isadora hesitated. There was something deeper in her voice, a lingering guilt that had only just made its way to the surface. “You thought it would be?”
Penelope’s eyes softened. “I was terrified, Isadora. When I realized what you had done for me—I… I felt awful. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to sacrifice yourself.”
“I did not sacrifice myself,” Isadora said firmly.
Penelope gave her a look. “Are we really going to bend the truth now? Be earnest, Isadora.”
“Fine. It was a bargain, I admit. But do not think for a moment that you are the reason I did this.”
Penelope frowned. “But I am?—”
“No,” Isadora cut in, squeezing her arm. “You are the reason Iacted, yes. But Ichoseto do this, Penelope. No one forced my hand.”
“But if not for me?—”
“If not for you, then perhaps it would have been another reason,” Isadora said. “Our father would have found some way to pushme into a match eventually. At least this way, I had some say in the matter.”
Penelope let out a slow breath. “And you are truly content with that?”
She had married Evan thinking it would be one thing—an arrangement, a simple business transaction.
But now—it was shaping up to be more intimate than she could have thought. She swallowed hard, pushing the thought away.
“I am content,” she said at last, her voice quieter now.
Penelope remained stubborn in her resolve and began to shake her head. “You know, Isadora… you are allowed to want more. It is really not a crime to do so. You make everything about responsibility or some other moral reasoning, bBut it does not have to be so.”
“What other reason would you rather I have?”
Penelope shrugged. “Happiness. Love. A marriage that is more than just an arrangement.”
Isadora forced a chuckle though it sounded a bit too forced. She had gone through conversations like this numerous times with her friends before.
“Penelope, not all of us are hopeless romantics,” she reminded pointedly.
“Not all of us, no. But I think you might be a little more sentimental than you pretend to be,” Penelope maintained.
