“No, I’m not sick. I’m really just tired,” Susan insisted.
“I think I should call a physician.” Marina started to rise, but Susan caught her wrist and pulled her back down. The truth was, she knew there was something about the way she was reacting to all this that wasn’t quite normal. It shouldn’t upset her this much, and not only because she had never intended to care about Norman. She should be able to keep track of the passing of the hours. She should be hungry for her dinner.
But for some reason, she just wasn’t. It felt as though when she’d left Norman, she had left a vital part of herself behind. She just couldn’t muster the energy or the enthusiasm that would have been necessary for anything.
“Don’t call anyone,” she implored her sister. It would be too humiliating to have to explain this to a physician—to say that her heart had been broken, and that heartbreak was making her physically ill. This was the one thing she had always promisedherself would never happen to her. Even to admit it privately, in her own mind, was to admit failure. And that failure was compounded by the fact that her heart truly was broken.
Why didn’t he ask me to stay? I know he doesn’t love me, but does he care so little about me? He barely even objected! Oh, I suppose it’s my own fault for telling him he shouldn’t try to force me into it, but even so… I did want him to try harder than that.
She’d wanted him to try, and he hadn’t.
That was what hurt so badly, at the end of the day. He hadn’t fought for her. Even if he couldn’t love her—she could accept that—she’d thought he had come to a place of wanting her around. But apparently that wasn’t true and never had been. It was an awful realization.
“Susan, if you’re not well, you should see someone,” Marina said. “I’m really worried. I knew something wasn't right during our promenade, but seeing you now… I’ve truly never seen you this way.”
“I’m all right. Really. I just need a little more time to recover,” Susan said, hoping it was true.
“Will you at least eat something?”
Susan examined the dinner tray. It was a hearty meal—she’d been saved a leg of pheasant, a piece of fish, and several sidedishes that she knew for certain would have appealed to her under different circumstances. But at the moment, she could muster no enthusiasm for any of it.
“You can leave it here,” she told her sister.
“If I do, are you going to eat it?” Marina asked sternly.
Seeing her sister step into the role of caretaker like this would ordinarily have made Susan smile. The fact that no mirth found her was just one more thing that was odd about her current state of mind.
Still, she didn’t want Marina to be worried. She picked up a piece of bread, tore off a small bite, and popped it into her mouth.
Immediately, her stomach clenched, rejecting the food. But she forced a smile onto her face all the same.
Marina relaxed slightly—she had been convinced. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Susan, and Susan relaxed into the embrace. “I just feel awful,” she murmured. “You did all this for me. You put yourself in that situation for me.”
“No, you mustn’t blame yourself,” Marina told her sister firmly. “Nothing that’s happened is your fault. I know I didn’t want to get married, and I know I’ve always said that. This is… disappointing.” That was an understatement if ever there was one. “But we should focus on the important things. It could havebeen so much worse, Marina. Norman didn’t love me, but he was not a cruel man.”
For a moment, there was silence, and Marina knew they were both thinking about Leah. About the terrible things that had happened to their sister.
“If you think about it,” she went on, resting a hand on Marina’s shoulder, “things got better for each of us in turn. Leah’s fate was dreadful. My fate is merely… sad. And you—you are the one who might receive a happy ending. And I don’t ever want you to feel sorry or ashamed about your own happiness, Marina. We all want you to have it. Leah would want that too. I’m sure of it. I know how much she loved you, because it’s the same way I love you.”
Marina smiled tremulously. “You have been such a wonderful sister to me,” she said softly. “You always have. And I’m grateful for everything you’ve given me. But I just wish it didn’t come at such a cost to you, Sue.”
A lump rose in Susan’s throat. But she could find nothing to say.
She merely held her sister’s hand for a few moments longer, and the two of them looked at one another.
Then Marina rose to her feet. “I’ll leave you in peace,” she said quietly. “I hope you’ll ring the servants if you should need anything.”
She left the room, pulling the door closed behind her, and Susan was on her own.
It shouldn’t have troubled her. Even when she had lived in Norman’s house, she’d often been alone. She had sought out solitude. She had liked it.
But somehow, today she felt lonelier than she ever had in her life.
CHAPTER 32
“You’re a mess, old friend,” Reeves remarked, taking a seat opposite Norman in his study and reaching for the bottle of brandy.
Norman looked up at Reeves without saying a word. He picked up his own glass and took a sip. His head was pleasantly foggy and had been that way for the past two days, thanks to steady pours from that bottle. He kept himself alert—he would need to be—but the occasional glass was enough to take the sharp edge off his failures and his anger at Susan.
