Her thoughts whirled back to what Theodore had said moments ago.
As if love is some childish fancy.
Oliver had acted as though love was irrelevant. Did he truly believe that? And what of her? She had agreed to marry Oliver out of necessity, not love. But slowly, something had been changing between them. Alethea's cheeks warmed as she thought back to her husband and her heart fluttered wildly.
Why, she realized with a jolt,I have gone and fallen in love with my own husband.
The revelation stole her breath. Alethea pressed a hand to her cheek, hoping that Theodore did not notice the sudden flush on her cheeks.
"What is it?" Theodore asked, noticing her sudden silence instead.
"Oh, nothing," she said hastily. She could not exactly confess such a discovery to her brother-in-law. "I was only thinking… that perhaps I do have a small understanding of how you feel."
"Do you really?" he seemed skeptic at first.
"I.." Alethea bit down on her lip, "well, yes. I think I do."
"Then you know it's not so simple to just let go," Theodore replied with a defeated smile.
"No. It isn't," she agreed softly.
They fell quiet. Theodore poured himself another finger of whiskey but did not drink it. After a long moment, Alethea found the courage to speak up again.
"If Joyce returns your feelings, there may yet be hope."
"She won't even speak to me. Not since… all of this," He turned his troubled eyes to her. "Oliver has likely warned her away, or she's too ashamed."
"Do you believe she loves you?" Alethea hesitated, weighing her words carefully.
"She hasn't said it. But I know she does."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I've seen it. She didn't have to dance with me that second time, you know. The first could be passed off as circumstance," Theodore said, seeming firm in his conviction, "She knew what it would mean when she agreed to dance with me a second time."
"It would mean something?" Alethea blinked, feeling a bit naïve suddenly.
"Of course it would," Theodore chuckled faintly. "Two unchaperoned dances is practically akin to an announcement. And it must be no small thing for Joyce, who is otherwise so proper and reserved," he said.
"Ah," Alethea said. She did not know her sister well enough to say for certain if what he was saying was right. "Perhaps.."
"She felt something. I'm sure of it." Theodore's voice was hoarse with conviction now. "She's only holding back because she thinks she must. Or rather, because your husband has made her believe there is no future for us."
"Oliver means well," she murmured. "He wants to protect you both from scandal."
"That's not how love works, Duchess," Theodore let out a bitter laugh.
She looked back at him, startled.
"When you're in love, you don't think clearly. You don't weigh consequences and reputation like scales. You think of the person and you ache to see them," Theodore continued on. "Every part of you yearns to be near them. And when you can't…" His voice cracked, and he leaned back with a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his hair.
Dream of them. Yearn to see them.
Oliver's face flickered before her eyes once more and she pressed her fingers to her lips.
"What?" Theodore asked, brow furrowed. "You are acting strange again."
"Nothing." Her cheeks flamed. "I was only thinking again about what you said."
