Page 40 of A Spinster's Guide to Landing a Lyon

Chapter Twenty-Four

“He left,” Ameliasniffled. “With her.”

“I know, dear.”

“It’s been a week, and I still haven’t heard from him.” Amelia wrapped her arms around her legs, as she sat curled up on the settee with her sister.

“I know.”

“I’ve cried far too much over him.”

“I know.”

“I can’t do anything without thinking of the dratted man. I can’t sleep. I can’t paint. Well, I can’t paint regardless. But I can’t go for a walk. Ride a horse. All I think about is him. It’s awful.”

“I know.”

“Is that all you’re going to say, Arabella? That you know? What do you know? You know nothing about how this has devastated me.” Where had that come from? Amelia was never one to lash out at her sister.

“You’re upset, Amelia. And so you should be. But not at me. At least…not for this. I’d much rather you be upset at me for the right reason. So, let me have it?” She put her face in front of Amelia’s. “Go ahead, slap me.”

The position of her body and the offer was too ridiculous that Amelia let out a stifled unamused laugh.

“What are you talking about, Arabella? Sometimes I don’t think we’re even speaking the same language, let alone born of the same family.”

Arabella jumped to her feet and braced her stance. “Slap me. Come on,” she said, hauling Amelia to her feet as well. “I deserve that at least.”

“I’m not going to slap you—”

Arabella ripped Amelia’s arm up into the air, shoulder height. “Just do it, please.”

“You’re being facetious now.”

“No, I’m not. I was being facetious when I thought that Martin loved me.” Her face crumpled. It was Arabella’s first display of how the imminent scandal was affecting her. “I did this to us because I was a fool. I followed my heart and look where it got us.”

Promptly, Amelia embraced her sister. “It’s not wrong to follow your heart,” she reassured her.

“I should have never let him get me alone—”

“Hush now. What’s done is done. It’s a scandal, but there’s still hope. It’s not all bad. You’ll get through this.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes. I know so.”

“Good,” Arabella sniffled, and at once perked up. “Then listen to your own advice when Benedict tells you his side.”

“What?”

Arabella’s eyes darted to the window that Amelia hadn’t been paying attention to as she comforted her sister. “I see him riding up. And it’s about time.” She wiped the tears—what few had fallen—from her eyes. “Well, that was a good cry. Thank you for letting me get that out. And thank you for reminding me that no matter how bad things get, they can always get better.”

With that little speech, Arabella drifted out of the room, exchanging places with Benedict.

What was happening? Life felt like a whirlwind, Amelia could hardly catch her breath. She sunk into the nearest chair.

Apparently Benedict was out of breath too because when he dropped to his knees, he laid his head on her lap and didn’t speak for a full minute.

When he finally did start speaking, he was mumbling over and over again, “I’m sorry.”