Unfortunately, it was never a skill she’d had, and so now she had to be content with a tiny, hurt gasp, and pressing her fingers to her mouth.
“Oh, Felicity, how could you be so cruel? As if I would have cared! He might have come back to me without a face at all,orhis arms and legs, for all I cared. I was just glad he’d returned. But he was different, you know. He had the most horrifying dreams – sleeping and waking – and he acted differently. He stared at me with such anger at times. It never made sense to me. Dear Beatrice – that is, Mrs. Langley – told me that war changes men. I tried my best to love him as before, but frankly, he scared me. I felt as though I was no longer the woman he fell in love with. So, it seemed to me – and you, my dear friend, can imagine the tears and agonies I endured, I’m sure – that the best thing for him would be to be freed. To meet another woman, one who could truly make him happy. Because I knew then that I was not making him happy.”
Miranda drew a finger across her cheek, underneath her eye, in a way that just hinted that there was a tear there.
“So,” she continued, bravely, “I ended the engagement. I know, in my heart, that he understood. We’ve always known each other innately well. I’m sure you can understand.”
“That must have been difficult,” Felicity responded. “I’m sorry for it.”
Liar,Miranda thought, but that hardly mattered anymore She was coming to the end of her story.
“But when I came here and met him again,” she said, speaking slowly, “I was shocked to find that he had no wife, no fiancé. I was sure he would be engaged immediately after ours ended – he is such a wonderful man. But he seemed more himself again, only… only lonely. I saw at once that I’d made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and doomed us both to a life of misery without each other. It takes a great deal of courage to admit when we are wrong, do you not think?”
Felicity said nothing. She was sitting bolt upright, her face pale, hands knotted together in her lap.
It was time to make the definitive move.
Miranda swept back to the sofa, depositing herself beside Felicity again, grabbing at her clenched hands.
“He has never loved a woman aside from me,” she said seriously. “We love each other in ways you cannot understand, Felicity. Arthur and I are soulmates. Now, I see the way you look at him… no, I do, don’t pull away… and I simply could not stay silent any longer. Arthur still loves me. I know it. I see it in his eyes whenever he looks at me. He resents me for breaking the engagement, and for that I cannot blame him. But I intend to overcome his anger. I will make things right between us. I believe I can do it, too.”
“So you’re telling me this for my own good?” Felicity said, an edge of bitterness in her voice. Miranda’s grasp on her hands tightened.
“I know it sounds harsh. We are both women in this world, are we not? We know how fickle and strange men can be, how cruel the world is to women who make mistakes. I will have Arthur, Felicity. I don’t mean to be unkind, but the bond between us is such a one you cannot imagine. He loves me, Felicity.Me.Dear Beatrice – Mrs. Langley – supports our union, and I have reason to believe that if Arthur can simply overcome his last ridge of pride, he will make me another offer. And this time, I will not be so foolish as to let love slip away.”
She gave a sigh at the end of this speech. It was a good one, Miranda thought. One of her best. Convincing, to say the least. She almost convinced herself. A few tears of happiness would have sealed the deal, but that couldn’t happen, so Miranda contented herself with pointedly squeezing Felicity’s hands.
“So, you’re warning me away?” Felicity said, her voice thin.
Yes, you little fool.
“Only to save yourself heartache, my dear. To lose a man you’ve let yourself hope for… well, it’s a hard thing. But all is not lost. You’re remarkably pretty, people all say so, and you have family, and friends. Lord Vincent is paying you particular attention, andheis a handsome enough man. Not as handsome as my Arthur, of course,” Miranda added, almost forgetting herself.
Felicity rose abruptly to her feet, dragging her hands away from Miranda’s grip.
“Thank you for your honesty,” she said, her voice quiet and subdued. “I think I’d like to go to bed now. It… it has been a long day.”
“Oh, it certainly has.” Miranda rose smoothly to her feet. She took up her discarded blanket and swept it around her shoulders. It wouldn’t do to go skipping through the hallways looking like the picture of health. “Do think on what I’ve said, Felicity. I think it would be the wisest course of action for us both.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I believe we were enormously clear to you, Felicity,” Mrs. Thornhill said, her voice hard. “Behave as a lady should, or else there will be consequences.”
Gathered in the small parlour set aside for their personal use, Felicity and her parents stood like statues, staring at each other.
Felicity had known this was coming. Her mother had sent her a crisp message, asking her to join them in their private parlour before breakfast the following morning. She’d assumed that it was to account for her behaviour, and she was absolutely right.
“Acting like a lady should not be a difficulty for you,” Mrs. Thornhill spat. She’d clearly had plenty of time to decide what she was going to say and was clearly making the most of it all. Felicity was going to get the tongue-lashing of a lifetime.
In her head, Felicity let herself drift off. She thought of Arthur – Lord Lanwood, she should be calling him – smiling at her across the table, the way her heart had fluttered and her chest tightened. Almost immediately after, though, she thought of Miranda Sinclair, and the false sympathy which had really meant nothing at all. She could still hear Miranda’s lilting, cultured tones, ringing in her head, her voice full of pity and gentleness, and an undertone of contempt which she could not quite hide.
He has never loved a woman aside from me. We love each other in ways you cannot understand, Felicity. Arthur and I are soulmates.
It made sense. It made so much sense that Felicity wanted to scream. Of course he would still be in love with the woman he’d once wanted to marry. Of course she was the one who held his heart. And why should she not? Miranda Sinclair was remarkably beautiful, after all. She would make a wonderful Lady Lanwood, and it was clear that she had her eye on it, too.
“Felicity? Are you listening to me?” Mrs. Thornhill snapped. “Good lord, I’m glad your father is here to see how defiant and foolish you are. Do you have any idea of how your behaviour reflects upon it? It’s embarrassing enough to have a bluestocking as a daughter, let alone an unmarried one.”
“You ought to listen to your mama, girl,” Mr. Thornhill said, his eyes straying to the folded newspaper by the side of his chair. “She’s right, you know. Who will you marry? You must marry, after all. We brought you here in hopes of making a match, and aside from Lord Vincent, you really haven’t attracted anyone at all. I can’t understand why – you’re a pretty enough girl.”
