“Yes you do. You would just rather not understand, because understanding means taking accountability for your actions. I made excuses for you for years because you were so young when our parents died, but no longer. What about when Father died?You were fifteen then, only two years younger than I was when Mother died and I had to take on everything.” Emily pressed a hand to her chest. For years, she had kept all these feelings trapped inside, and it felt good to finally let them out. “Did you truly think that youdeserveda better life because you are prettier than me?”
Isabella’s sullen expression told Emily everything she needed to know.
“Well, then,” she said, inhaling deeply. “I suppose this is a lesson for you. People are not entitled to things just because they happen to have something. Oliver was never entitled to my love—I offered it to him because he proved himself worthy of it. And you were never entitled to his hand in marriage just because you are pretty, though I agree he treated you badly. But that is no reason to run away with Lord Marlbury when I warned you of what he was like.”
“What he was like seven years ago toyou.” Isabella’s jaw jutted out stubbornly, and Emily realised that Isabella had assumed that because she was prettier, she would have a greater hold over Marlbury.
Such conceit, and it was partly Emily’s fault. Isabella had grown up being about the prettiest girl for twenty miles, but she didn’t have the understanding of the world that such beauty required; she didn’t know that it just made her prey for less noble minds.
With no prospects or dowry, she had no appeal as a wife, but she had plenty of appeal as a disposable dalliance.
Emily sighed, rubbing the centre of her forehead. “I suppose it’s too much to assume you insisted on waiting until you were wed.”
More silence.
“He said he would take care of me.” Isabella’s voice broke. “Why is it every man who promises me anything lies?”
“Oh, Bella.” When Isabella put her hands over her face, Emily rose and crossed to the other side of the table, wrapping her arms around her sister. “Foolish, foolish girl,” she murmured. “How did you come to meet him so he took you with him?”
“I saw you and Oliver together and I assumed you had married and gone back to Lord Marlbury’s house, so I went to confront you. But instead I found . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Emily understood. Instead, she had found Lord Marlbury with his shallow charm, no doubt prepared to be outraged that Oliver would throw over such a pretty girl in favour ofEmily.
The rest was history.
“He said he would marry me to make up for Oliver not, only it was more complicated than merely going to a church, especially because I was under the age of majority. As the son of an earl, he couldn’t risk a runaway marriage, so we would have to await your return home to get your permission.”
“No doubt he would have loved to see the look on my face,” she said grimly.
“It madesense, Em.” Isabella shot to her feet, wiggling free of Emily’s arms. “And he made me feel as though I was the first woman to ever make him . . .”
“I know,” Emily said softly. “And it’s easy to believe him when you want to.”
“He talked about his time with you, and he told me he regretted leading you on when he had no intentions where you were involved—because of course things were different when he was so young.” Her face flushed with the strength of her feelings. “You would have believed him too.”
“That’s all very well, but why did you go to London?”
“He received a letter and said he had urgent business in London, and if I came with him, he would marry me there, with or without your permission.” Isabella wiped under her eyes plaintively. “I had already been staying with him for a day or twoat the house—I thought that if you knew I had no chance other than to marry him, you wouldhaveto give your permission.”
Of course. Because Isabella had known that if Emily could have refused the match, she would have done. And it hadn’t occurred to her even once to doubt Lord Marlbury’s name.
Emily slumped back into the chair. So much of this could have been avoided if Isabella had not been so determined to marry above herself.
“And so you followed him to London where you had no friends and no protection,” Emily said. A pang of pity made its way into her heart. “Oh, Bella.”
Her face crumpled. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t he want me?”
“Hedid, Bella. But he doesn’t want a wife at present—and if he did, he would want neither either of us could offer. We have neither a dowry, position, connections . . . Gentlemen like Marlbury marry for little else. We could not have advanced his position in any respect, and so we were not worthy. It took me a long time to come to terms with that, and I’m sorry if it hurts you. It hurt me too. The world can be a cruel place.” And once, Emily had only ever seen its cruelty. Now, however, she felt a small smile cross her face. “But it is notonlycruel. There is goodness to find, too. You should put less emphasis on your physical charms, dearest. Youarebeautiful, but it cannot be your only character trait.”
Isabella looked down at her shoes. “When you and Oliver marry, will you invite me to live with you?”
“We will be in the country,” Emily warned. “And it will be a quiet life. Is that what you want?”
“I would rather live with you than strangers. Besides.” Isabella shrugged as though it was nothing. “I missed you.”
Emily felt a new warmth in her chest. Isabella might have plenty to learn, and lots tounlearn, but they were still sisters.
“When we’re settled in, of course you can come to live with us.” She enfolded Isabella in her arms. “I’m still angry with you,” she whispered against Isabella’s hair, “but I love you. No matter what you do, even if I don’t particularly like you sometimes, I will always love you. That’s what sisters do.”
There was a tremor in Isabella’s voice as she said, “Why didn’t you come back?”
