Elizabeth blinked. “What… what do you mean?”
Mary’s eyes burned with fervor. “You stand upon the brink of grievous sin,” she said in a low, intense voice. “And I would be guilty before God if I allowed you to proceed without warning.”
Elizabeth stared. “Mary—”
“You mean to bind yourself to a papist,” Mary continued, the word sharp upon her tongue. “To unite your life with a man who rejects the true church. To raise children in that corruption.”
Elizabeth glanced uneasily behind her towards the staircase that led to their individual bedrooms upstairs.
“Mary, this is neither the time nor the place for such—”
“You will burn in hell for it. You and your children.”
The words struck like a slap, and Elizabeth recoiled. She backed up a step, but Mary suddenly surged forward and seized her wrist.
The grip was surprisingly strong.
“You must not do this,” Mary said urgently. “You must repent. There is still time to turn away.”
“Mary,” Elizabeth said, struggling to keep her voice calm, “release me.”
“I will not,” Mary replied. “It is my duty to call you back before you damn yourself.”
Elizabeth tried to pull her hand free. “Mary, you are hurting me.”
“You are choosing hell over salvation!”
Elizabeth’s patience snapped. “That is quite enough.”
She attempted again to pull away, but Mary’s fingers tightened painfully around her wrist.
“You must listen!” Mary insisted, her voice rising. “Your soul is in peril and you treat it as though it were nothing!”
“Let me go.”
“Not until you swear you will reconsider!”
Elizabeth twisted sharply, trying to break the hold. “Mary, you are behaving ridiculously.”
“I will not stand by while my sister condemns herself!”
Elizabeth gave a small cry of frustration. “Release me!”
Mary’s expression hardened. “You will regret this,” she said fiercely. “You—and your husband—and the children you intend to raise in error. You will all burn for it!”
“Stop it!”
Elizabeth jerked her arm free at last.
In response, Mary’s arm flashed out.
The sound of the slap echoed sharply through the hallway.
Elizabeth shrieked and held a hand up to her stinging cheek. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, and she realized the blow had caused her to bite her lip.
The study door flew open.
Mr. Bennet stood in the doorway, his book still in one hand. “What on earth,” he demanded sharply, “is going on out here?”
