After a week at Marianne’s, she realized that she should let her whole family know what had been happening to her. It was only fair.
She told herself that she had gone through the worst of it all already: a week of silence. A week of Marianne hovering over her to see if she was all right. She was ashamed of it all, but she didn’t have a choice. Her whole body had felt like it could not move.
Trapped.
She was trapped within her own sadness. She’d heard of men and women who had gone through it before, but she and her sisters often scoffed at the idea. They were the Brightons of Grisham House. Their father’s reign of terror had made them resilient.
Earlier, before she left Marianne’s home, she hugged her older sister and her husband, full of gratitude.
“Marianne, Dominic, thank you for letting me stay. But I am a grown woman who should not be coddled. Still, you were patient. So patient,” she had said, her voice cracking.
“You are always welcome here,” Dominic had said. “That has to be clear. The moment I married Marianne, you became my sister, as well.”
“You are my blood, sister,” Marianne had come forth, “and nothing will ever change that. Not marriage, not distance, not old age. Nothing, you hear? I’ll always be right here for you.”
Armed with the kind words that she’d received earlier, she knocked at the door of the Grisham household.
She might have lost her husband to his other pursuits, but she still had sisters who needed her. Not quite sure when she’d finally be able to peel herself from the comfort of Marianne’s guest chamber, she didn’t send a message that she was coming.
“Your Grace,” the butler bowed down respectfully as she stepped into the foyer. “Apologies, w-we didn’t expect your arrival.”
“No matter. Is Lady Grisham home?” she asked coolly.
“She is in the drawing room, Your Grace,” the butler replied with a deferential nod.
Elizabeth returned it briskly and continued past him, her head held high. Alasdair might not be here with her, and he might not even want her back, but she would not let her stepmother strip her of her dignity. Not again.
As soon as she entered the drawing room, Lady Grisham, seated stiffly on the settee, paused mid-page and slipped her monocle between the folds of her book. She looked up slowly and frowned.
“Well,” she said, drawing out the word. “What are you doing here?”
Elizabeth steadied herself, refusing to shrink under that gaze. “This was once my home. I don’t require an invitation.”
Lady Grisham clicked her tongue. “Yes, yes, but your home is with the Duke now. The Redmoor residences are yours to haunt. Surely you’re not lost, are you?”
Elizabeth lifted her chin. “I’m not lost. I’d like to stay here. For a few days.”
There was a beat of silence as Lady Grisham took her in fully. Then, a slow, triumphant smile spread across her lips.
“Oh. Oh, I see,” she set her book aside with theatrical precision and folded her hands on her lap. “Well, well, well. Haven’t I warned you about the Scottish brute of a duke? I was wondering how long you’d let your little fantasy continue. A rake is a rake, Elizabeth. Add being an uncouth man of the Highlands, and you have the perfect brew for a stormy marriage.”
Elizabeth glared at her stepmother. Never again, she thought. She ignored the gloating and instead calmed herself down to smile at the older woman, one that she had practiced through the years.
“Good day to you, too, Lady Grisham. I am here to visit my sisters,” she said mock-cheerfully.
“Ah,” Lady Grisham said, raising an eyebrow. “Of course, you are. It seems you have been making the rounds. You are here after having stayed with Marianne for about a week, no? What was it like for two duchesses to exchange little stories about married life?”
“Marianne is generous with her time and assistance. As she always is,” Elizabeth said, keeping her calm and flat tone. “You may also remember that she had played a maternal figure for all of us when nobodyelsewould.”
Lady Grisham knew the game well. She returned Elizabeth’s smile and sugary tone. “How fortunate, then, that some of ourfamily members know how to marry wisely. Marianne is doing well.”
“I’m certainly glad for her. Meanwhile, some think that marrying is only for gaining wealth and social status, without caring for the products of the union,” Elizabeth replied.
Then, she turned on her heel and went up the staircase. She reminded herself that she was there to see her sisters and not argue with Lady Grisham. Some relationships had to be nurtured, and those that could never be forced.
She flung the door open to the twins’ room, and she was not disappointed by the welcome she received. The twins immediately shrieked as soon as they saw her.
“Lizzie!” It was Daphne who rushed to her first, clinging around her waist.