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“I don’t think of him as ancient,” I said.
Delphia didn’t say anything for a moment, walking over to the window and pulling up the shade to look out to the front yard. Our rooms were next to each other and faced the southern mountain. She pinched the narrow bridge of her nose, obviously thinking through my predicament. Finally, when she spoke, it was with a question. “I don’t suppose he knows of this affection?”
“No.”
“And do you have any indication that he feels the same?”
“None whatsoever.” I swallowed, trying desperately not to cry and ruin my makeup. “He’s going to marry that Lena anyway. He must marry her.”
“Must?”
“It’s all to save his family from ruin.” I explained what James had told me.
“So that’s what it is. I knew something was wrong. He doesn’t love her. I’ve known it from the first time he told us anything about her. For one thing, he doesn’t know anything about her. They’re little more than acquaintances, as far as I can tell.”
“It’s nothing short of an arranged marriage,” I said. “He’s told me as much.”
Delphia moved back to stand next to me, reminding me of the bobcat that visited the parameters of our fenced yard on full moonlit nights. “How long have you felt this way?”
“I can’t remember when I didn’t feel this way.” I explained in a halting, nearly incoherent way about my feelings, how he made me feel alive and seen. “From the very first, he’s captured my heart. I’m too young for him—in his eyes anyway. Or, at least that’s what I thought. But I’m starting to believe he might have an inkling of romantic affection for me. If it weren’t for this arranged marriage, I might have had a chance. Papa isn’t rich enough to save them. Isn’t that something? I’d never thought I would say there were limitations to our happiness because of money, but there are.”
“What makes you think he has an inkling of affection for you?” She crossed her arms over her chest and wrinkled her brow as if she were a detective and I the mystery.
“Just a feeling more than anything.” An image played before my eyes. He’d brushed away the hair from my cheek in a gesture of intimacy.
Or was that me? I was the one who had reached out and taken his hand. It had been only friendship reflected in his eyes. The affection of a man for the younger sister of his best friend? Or was there more? I could not know. It was not my place to know.
Delphia sat in the other hardback chair with a thud. “Dear James. He cannot possibly choose anything else but to save his family, can he? He’s too good.”
“Even if it were possible he might love me, yes.” This was the truth. Only a miracle would solve all of these troubles, piled as they were one on top of the other.
“What do we do?” Delphia asked. “What can I do?”
“Sometimes we cannot do anything at all. Except accept our fate.”
Her eyes flashed, reminding me of our father. She had the same laughing eyes as him and at times, when needed, they reflected grit and ambition, just as his did. They were not the type to accept their fate. They would fight against it until the bitter end. Papa had given up his family’s expectations and his lineage when he’d moved to America instead of staying in England and performing his lordship duties. What had been different in his circumstance than in mine? Ah yes. Money. His family hadn’t needed him to stay. There was a younger brother happy to take his place as head of the family. In the end, money had been the deciding factor. Just like now. If Papa had more money than this Mr. Masters, then we could save James and his family. Instead, I would have to stand aside and watch him solve his problems without me.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” I said to Delphia, “it won’t work. We can’t fix this one. Not even Papa can.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
“Delphia Barnes, promise me you won’t interfere.”
She gazed back at me, her expression purposely innocent looking. As well as I knew her silent thoughts, she knew mine. “Sweet sister, I would walk to the ends of the earth and sell my soul to give you what you need.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. Darn it all. We’d have to reapply the makeup, I thought, absently. “Delphia, sometimes loving someone means not doing that very thing we think they need. Sometimes we must let go…we must letthemgo.” I rose from the chair to take both her hands. “Please, promise me you won’t say anything to him or anyone else. I’m embarrassed and humiliated having you know. I couldn’t bear it if anyone else knew.”
“You’ve no reason to be embarrassed. Especially not with me. And anyway, we don’t choose who we fall in love with, now do we? As hard as it will be, I’ll keep it to myself. But you’ll come to me anytime you need to?”
“Yes, I shall.”
“No more crying alone. If I serve no other purpose in life, allow me to be the kind of sister you’ve always been to me.”
We embraced, clinging to each other. As different as we were, we understood the other and would do whatever the other needed. If possible. Which, it was becoming apparent to me, wasn’t always in our control. Perhaps it never was at all. Regardless, my friendship with my little sister would sustain me through my broken heart. I clung to that notion as fiercely as I did to her.
7
JAMES
