AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It took her a moment to understand why.
Every day of her life she had dressed as if she was donning armor, readying to fight in the world she saw as a battlefield.
The world was not a battlefield today. She would find another battle another day; that was who she was and she was exactly as she ought to be. But today, after a lifetime of fighting, it occurred to Arabella that she had finally won. She hadn’t even known what she was fighting for, and she still wasn’t sure how she had earned this victory, but she would happily claim it as her own.
The carriage was ready, but Arabella was not. Mama had not yet appeared, so she picked up the skirts of her beautiful gown and dashed into Papa’s study.
She ignored the birds, which, in the end, were only dead, stuffed birds, and looked up at the portrait of her twin brother. Beautiful, beloved Oliver. The perpetual little boy who had always been part of her, and always would be. Who had left her too soon, but always walked at her side.
There you are, little brother, she thought.
His smile today was sweet, like the little boy she had loved, and fond, like the young man she had never known.
I’m getting married today. To someone I love who loves me too.
I’m happy for you, was his response.You deserve it.
“I miss you.” Those words she spoke out loud. “I wish you were here. I’m sorry you died.”
He was only a portrait and he could not speak, but she heard the words as surely as if he had spoken out loud too: “I miss you too, but I’m glad you lived.”
The door opened and in came Mama.
“There you are. The carriage is waiting. What are you doing?”
“Talking to Oliver.”
Her mother took her hand, and they stood together, looking at the portrait of the little boy, who had nothing left to say.
“I love you, Mama.”
Her mother pressed a kiss to Arabella’s temple. “I love you too, my dear.”
Again the door opened. It was Papa this time, coming to stand at Arabella’s other side. For a long moment, they didn’t speak.
“I hope you’ll be happy, my girl,” he finally said. “And I’ll say this for Hardbury: At least he can handle you.”
“He can try.”
Papa laughed. “Yes, I suppose he can. I…” His laughter faltered, and his eyes fled from her, up to the wall. When he turned back, he took her hand. “I’ve done badly by you, I know. But I’m proud to call you my daughter. You’ve grown up to be a fine woman, and that’s despite me, not because of me. Yes, you’re a fine woman indeed. If a little proud and stubborn.”
On her other side, Mama laughed. “Proud and stubborn, is she, Peter?” she said archly. “Remind you of anyone?”
Arabella could not remember a time she had stood like this, flanked by her parents, the family connected, laughing together at their own folly.
“We will come to visit, Papa, as often as you please. You’ll have plenty of time with the children here, if we are blessed with any. I truly hope that at least one of them will take after you.”
“A little man of science?”
“Or a little woman.”
He snorted. “Thank you. But even if you are not so blessed, I hope you will still sometimes visit your foolish old father. Now,” he added more briskly. “We’d best get you to the church before Hardbury starts panicking you’ve run off again.”
The little church was full, and as Arabella and her father entered, every head turned.
Every head but one: Guy’s.
He was waiting at the altar, his broad back tall and straight. A beam of sunlight broke through the stained glass to paint his hair with gold and red and blue.
