Arabella nodded, unwilling to admit that she had left more than London behind.
“If the weather holds, it is going to be a splendid trip,” Bridget added.
Arabella tightened her smile and held on to her book that she had intended to read.
“Let’s hope, then, that the weather will hold,” Arabella answered, but just a tad late.
Bridget looked at her with a knowing smile. She knew that Arabella’s mind was elsewhere, but she decided not to comment. Arabella was grateful. She would hate to explain to Bridget why she was this absent-minded.
“Father says,” Bridget said in delight, “that grandmother’s house is beautiful. She even has a stable with horses, goats, and cows. Very rural and so very different from London.”
Arabella understood that her sister was anticipating exactly that: how different Wales must be from London, how little she would be reminded of him, of the man she lost. And Arabella was supposed to feel that same excitement of getting away. And yet she didn’t.
“What do you think, Arabella?” Bridget asked.
Arabella was so distracted she didn’t realize Bridget was still talking.
“Yes, of course, we shall see,” Arabella answered vaguely, unable to concentrate and contribute to her sister’s joy.
She let her talk and make plans and outline the future in this magical place where heartbreak does not exist. Arabella didn’t have the heart to tell her that most times grief tends to follow you until you decide to untangle yourself.
Perhaps it was too soon for Arabella to let go. After all, it took Bridget three years to take the path to healing, and the man had only been a suitor. Arabella couldn’t even calculate how long it would take her to dull this pain inside her. Gerald was, after all, her husband; they had shared pleasure, kisses, and intimacy.
She looked out the window again and forced herself to really look at the open fields, to admire the early spring growth, to breathe the fresh air. She had the rare opportunity of claiming freedom without having to sacrifice means. But she felt none of it.
“You are not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Bridget asked.
“No, I do,” Arabella lied. “Grandmother’s house sounds exciting.”
“I was reciting random poetry to test you,” Bridget teased, “and it seems that it worked.”
“I am happy you’re finding me amusing,” Arabella said.
“I don’t find you amusing at all,” her sister went serious. “It is as if we switched personalities.”
Arabella couldn’t help but chuckle. She was not wrong. Usually, Arabella was the energetic one and Bridget a reluctant participant. How the tables had turned. And it was all because of him.
“Did you,” Bridget asked carefully, “send word to Gerald about this trip?”
Arabella’s body tensed even at the mention of his name. She tried to keep a neutral face, but she could tell from Bridget’s reaction that she was failing.
“No need,” Arabella said. “We are supposed to go our merry way, and that includes not bothering him with things that wouldn’t interest him.”
“So, you truly believe that Gerald wouldn’t care to know that his wife is leaving for Wales for the foreseeable future?”
Arabella didn’t want to believe that, but everything told her that it just might be so.
What he said was clear enough. He had congratulated her for her performance. He sang her praises on how well she pretended to be a devoted wife. And then he was so cold and detached, as if she were part of his staff. He even mentioned money between them.
The worst thing was that she still couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that she had imagined the whole thing. Was it all truly false? The way he comforted her? How he laughed with her? How he touched her like she truly mattered? That night in the maze... Was it nothing too?
How could all these be just a marriage of convenience? The jokes they shared, the banter, the teasing, and letting go together, perhaps they were not the same thing to him as they were to her.
“Bridget, I really do think that the Duke will not mind, let alone care, if I am in London or not. So don’t worry, we have all the time in the world in Wales to feed each last of our grandmother’s sheep.”
Arabella forced a smile on her face, and Bridget pretended to believe it was true. And just as Arabella settled back on her seat, watching the world outside distant and unreachable, the carriage jolted to a halt.
So sudden was that stop that she was almost catapulted across the carriage into her sister’s arms.
