With a shaky breath, Lily considered her answer. It was one thing to not love the man and not want to marry him, it was another to find out your own sister had been with him. She feared Alice might view her differently, but if anything had been learned in the last few weeks, it was that honesty was the way forward.
“We—we met before I came here.” She worried her hands on the table. “Neither of us realized who the other was that night, as we had never met before. And there was a connection right away, I can’t deny it.”
“Even though you tried,” Alice said softly.
“Because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“But what about you?” Alice asked with a shake of her head that made golden curls bob around her face. “You lost love once, so to find it again?—”
Lily took her hand. “I-I didn’t love Thomas. It wasn’t a happy marriage.”
Alice’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t? Why didn’t you tell me? Oh…to protect me.”
“Yes. I didn’t want you to know that I’d been pushed into the marriage by your mother. That it was miserable.” She sighed.
Alice took both her hands. “You raised me. We never talk about it, but we both know it’s true. Perhaps you see me as just a little girl, but I’m not.”
“No. You’re most definitely not,” Lily admitted.
“I want us to be sisters, as we always should have been. I want us to be honest, to be able to hurt in front of each other.”
Lily nodded. “That’s fair. I do love him, Alice. I have no idea if that will be something that can be fully pursued, there are so many issues.”
“Perhaps the only issue that matters is love.”
Lily smiled at the idea. There was such hope in that even if she couldn’t quite believe it yet. “You sound very wise.”
“I told you, I’m all grown up,” Alice said with a little laugh.
There was a light knock on the door and they heard Reeves’ voice outside. “The family is ready for you, Mrs. Manning, Miss Westinghouse.”
Their eyes met and Lily grasped her sister’s hand. “Let’s go face this together.”
* * *
George turned from the fire as Lily and Alice entered his father’s study arm in arm. His breath caught at the sight of Lily, so beautiful despite no sleep the night before. She smiled softly at him and his world was right, no matter what happened next.
And Alice also looked entirely changed. For weeks, months, she had seemed pinched, uncertain, sad. Now her expression was open, her eyes were bright. There was fear there, of course, but she looked happy.
“Good morning,” his father said, and motioned for the two women to sit. Once they had in two chairs, the earl and the countess took their place on the settee and George stood before the fire between them.
Lord Pembrooke cleared his throat and looked first at his son and then at his wife. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how we got here,” he began. “And I’m realizing that there is more to this than just an advantageous match for both parties. So I’m asking you, either of you,anyof you, why did this happen?”
George tensed and glanced at Lily, who was now leaning forward on her chair. Then he looked at his mother. She was pale and gripped the edge of the settee with one hand.
“Tell him,” he said softly.
She glanced at her husband and then nodded. “A few months ago, I was told that I have an illness. Dr. Browning was sparing with the details, but he was clear about one thing: there is no fixing it. There is no way to know how much time there is left, but it will end my life and sooner rather than later. Because of that, I asked George to stop his wild ways and marry, so that I might see him settled before my life ended.”
The earl sat stock still as his wife explained, his shoulders stiff and his expression unreadable. “Dying,” he finally said softly.
Lady Pembrooke’s eyes filled with tears and then she nodded. “Yes.”
George might have guessed at many ways his father would react to such news, but he never would have said the earl would drop to his knees before the settee, grasp his wife’s hands and stare at her while silent tears started down his face.
Lily got up then. She went to George and took his hand. He realized he, too, had tears on his cheeks and when she touched him the weight of the pain lifted just a fraction.
“This cannot be,” his father choked out. “No, Louisa. Not this.”
