Joyce's gaze snapped up to Alethea's, surprise flashing across her face.
"Are you only saying that to appease me?"
Alethea shook her head.
"No," she admitted, smiling shyly. "I have a truly awful time telling lies, and you would be able to tell if I were."
Joyce pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with happy tears.
"You cannot know how it lifts my heart to hear that," she said. "This has been my greatest burden."
Alethea leaned forward and wrapped her sister in a tight hug.
"I wanted you to know, so you wouldn't feel responsible for… for any of it. Please don't blame yourself for how I came to be married. I do not regret it."
But as she drew back, she saw that even amidst her happiness for Alethea, Joyce's eyes were shadowed. Joyce took a trembling breath.
"You are generous to say so. But I have blamed myself every day since that awful night."
"There is nothing to forgive," Alethea insisted, brushing a tear off Joyce's cheek with her thumb. "If anyone was at fault, it was Theodore, and he had only the wildest of intentions, not ill."
At the mention of Theodore's name, Joyce visibly tensed and she withdrew slightly.
"Please, let us not speak of that."
Alethea studied her sister's face. There was a pain there that she had not seen before. In that instant, Alethea understood that her sister's heart was breaking.
When Joyce composed herself and managed a polite smile, Alethea spoke gently.
"Do you care for him?"
"It makes no difference," Joyce's fingers tightened on the handkerchief.
"Joyce," Alethea persisted softly. "I do not wish for there to be secrets between us. You must tell me. Please."
Joyce's composure faltered. She closed her eyes, and two tears escaped, trailing down her cheeks.
"It's hopeless, really," she whispered, "Even if I did care for him, what future could there be? After all that has happened?"
Alethea moved closer, taking her sister's hands in hers.
"Answer the question with your heart, not your head. Do you love him?"
Joyce's face crumpled. Slowly, she nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Then the words spilled out as though a dam had opened.
"I do. I tried not to. After my husband died, I never thought I could feel this way again. But Theodore is so full of life, and he made me laugh when I thought I'd forgotten how. I let myself… I let myself dream of a second chance with him," Joyce admitted, sniffling.
Alethea's eyes pricked with tears at the raw longing in her sister's voice.
"Oh, Joyce…"
Joyce shook her head, tears slipping freely now.
"It was foolish of me. I should have known better. I'm a widow with a tarnished name now, and he's a duke's brother still in the bloom of youth. He ought to forget me, and I must forget him."
"Is that truly what you want?" Alethea asked.
"What I want doesn't signify," Joyce choked out. "What matters is what's right. And it would be wrong to drag him further into scandal for my sake. His brother will never allow it, and I won't have Theodore cut off from his family or fortune over me."
