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“You are not thinking correctly. You are thinking with impulse. And that never amounts to anything. I do not want to watch you make a mess of your life. You think that your mother gets upset about dresses. What will she say when she finds out that you have emotions towards the stable boy?I am only trying to protect you as I always do. I have nothing but your best interests in mind.”
There is a long pause on Matilda’s behalf as the realization of the circumstances hits her. This was not one of her books. She was not somesort of character that would get her way or a happy ending. This was real life, and the entire Hardon House, among others, already had it in their minds that Matilda would eventually be wed to Charles. With that much expectation, with that much social pressure, there was no way around any of that. Ann was right. The only thing that could come of it would be ruining her life. Her parents would be beyond upset.
“Aren’t I at least allowed to experience what I am missing in marrying Charles? Don’t I at least get that? I understand that there’s no way around it. But do I not get a sliver of happiness before my life is sold away to a man that I do not love?”
Surprisingly to Matilda, Ann wore a look of pity and remorse across her face. Sure, she had been Matilda’s maid, but they were also friends.
“You are right in that. And, well, I guess I can’t begin to understand how that must feel. I get it. You just want to live a little before you are expected to live by the standards of those around you.” Ann stopped walking and turned to face Matilda. “But if you are hurting right now…just imagine what he is feeling. I urge you, for his sake, do not invite his attention.”
“But—”
“If you care about him, you will spare him.”
Ann was right. Matilda did not even think about it. She did not want to get his hopes up and leave him more hurt than she found him. Life was not a book, life was not a poem, and perhaps weather was not subjective. Rain was rain, and Matilda was in her own personal storm.
