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An ache greater than Marianne had ever known crushed against her chest. “I have no idea how tiresome life is?”

Beatrice turned away, but Marianne moved, ensuring her sister looked directly in her eyes. Marianne did not enjoy arguments. She despised feeling despair. But something had shifted within her at her sister’s words. The need for justice, for understanding. The need for Beatrice to know just how her resistance to marry injured Marianne.

“You have no idea the life I lead, Beatrice. I am alone. Always. I am at home always. For years, I have patiently awaited my turn. I have listened to you speak of your prospects, and I comforted you when there were none. I have supported you through it all these last ten years, and now you say all I care about is myself?”

Her voice broke, angry tears welling in her eyes. “You’ve no idea how humiliating it is to sit in my chamber and hear music and laughter drifting through the windows as you, Mother, and Father delight in our neighbors’ company. You’ve no idea how abandoned I feel when the three of you ride away to a ball. I have been patient, Beatrice. I wish for your happiness more than anything. But surely you must see that I am in need of happiness, too.”

She ended her speech, her chest rising and falling as she awaited her sister’s response.

Tears filled Beatrice’s blue eyes, but her frown remained. “You are right, Marianne. You do lead a difficult life, and I am sorry for not realizing it sooner.” She brushed past her then paused in the doorway. “But you will soon see that life in Society—whether you find love or not—is no better than the life you lead now.”

With a final shake of her head, Beatrice turned and left the room.

Marianne stared at the empty doorway, fighting any urge to go after her, to force her to continue their conversation. But the words had already been spoken, and the damage to their relationship had been done.

Rather than feeling freed from finally speaking her piece, Marianne felt nothing but regret.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Marianne had never experienced such a deafening dinner before, though no words were spoken. Only the clinking of silverware on plates and trays echoed about the space.

Beatrice had joined them late, her eyes no longer red, though her lips were still held in a firm line. Marianne avoided her gaze, though it was not necessary. Beatrice had yet to lift her eyes from her barely touched plate.

“My, but we are all silent this evening,” Mother said.

Marianne responded with a silent smile.

“Indeed,” Father said. “No doubt we are all enjoying the food. But let us discuss what is on our minds. Marianne?”

She blinked. What was on her mind? Everything was on her mind. Living at Daffley Park for the rest of her life. Being alone. Her sister not caring for her well-being.

Mr. Steele still working away upstairs. “Nothing at all, Papa.”

She glanced at Beatrice, who pulled her eyes away.

“You are always so carefree, Marianne,” he responded with approval. “Nothing ever brings you down.”

Father was as obtuse as Beatrice, but she could not blame him. After all, she was the one who held in her unhappiness. She was the one who chose to obey his wishes. She’d always thought she’d be rewarded one day for doing so, but her logic was flawed. She would not be rewarded. She would remain at Daffley Park until she was too old to be an amiable match for anyone.

“What about you, Beatrice?” Father asked next.

She stared at her plate. “Nothing at all.”

“Hm, I do not believe that is the case.” Father narrowed his eyes with a smile. “I wonder if you are thinking of a certain Mr. Wakefield.”

Marianne tensed. Father’s question only further proved Beatrice’s earlier words. If only she could warn him off to avoid another escalated conversation. Obviously, he knew nothing of Beatrice’s decision to remain unmarried.

Beatrice took a bite of her potato, no doubt to avoid responding.

Father hardly seemed to notice. “I do think he will make for a fine son-in-law. And a fine husband, of course. What do you think of an autumn wedding, Beatrice? Unless you and Mr. Wakefield are eager to begin your lives together, of course. If that is the case, perhaps the end of summer will be better.”

Beatrice’s cheeks reddened, and Marianne’s chest constricted. As much as she disagreed with Beatrice, as much as she was frustrated with her sister for not caring about her, Marianne could not prevent her heart from reaching out to her. Both of them were mere pawns in Father’s plans. As much as Papa loved them, he had very little sense when it came to their happiness.

“Perhaps she merely wishes to make plans later,” Marianne said, hoping to pull the attention away from Beatrice. “Mama, I am eager to taste what you’ve ordered for dessert tonight.”

Papa spoke before Mother had a chance. “Oh, we may speak of dessert later, Marianne. There are far more pressing matters than your sweet tooth.”

“I think I would prefer speaking of dessert,” Beatrice said.