“Of course, it hurts,” Mina said sagely. “You care about him. You didn’t think you would.”
She was right about that. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. It was time to let go. She was with another sister. Each of them had a right to see how she felt. A tear rolled down her face when she admitted, ‘I do. I care about him.”
Wilhelmina sat on the bed next to her.
“Hero or not, if he ever makes you cry again, I will have to use my embroidery hoop to bludgeon him.”
Elizabeth let out a surprised laugh. “He’ll understand,” she said, still smiling.
She even hoped it would come to that, because if Alasdair ever returned to face the wrath of the Grisham girls, it would mean he had made it back to her.
Her smile faded slightly, replaced by something softer. “You know… with him, I felt safe. For a time, I was not under Father’s watch or scrutinized by your mother. I could breathe. So… the idea of losing him is terrifying.”
Wilhelmina reached for her hand. “I’m guessing it’s not just about safety. He became your new home, Lizzie,” she whispered. “He’ll be back. You’ll see.”
“I do hope so.”
There was a comfortable silence between them, broken only by the rustle of the fire in the hearth.
“What, then, do you plan to do?” Wilhelmina asked quietly.
“Marianne, the twins, and you have managed to strengthen me and even make me laugh. It’s time to face tomorrow.”
“That’s certainly fair,” Wilhelmina nodded. “Perhaps it’s wise not to sketch your Alasdair while he is still away.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. She liked the way Wilhelmina saidwhile he is still away.There was quiet confidence in those words. A promise.
“Understood,” she murmured in agreement.
She glanced over at her sister, then gently nudged her knee with her own. “And what about you, Mina? How have you been?”
Wilhelmina hesitated, just for a moment, but then she gave a small shrug. “Well, during one of those dreadful events Mother insisted I attend, I… met someone.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Youwhat?” she gasped, eyes wide. “A lord?”
Wilhelmina rolled her eyes. “No, Lizzie. A chimney sweep,” she deadpanned.
Elizabeth giggled and gave her another nudge. “Go on, you menace.”
Wilhelmina looked down at her hands, brushing at an invisible thread. “We can talk about it another time. I don’t want to burden you with something so trivial when you’re going through?—”
“No,” Elizabeth said firmly, reaching for her sister’s hand this time. “Please. Just because I’m facing something doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here for you. Tell me. I want to know.”
Wilhelmina hesitated once more, then relented with a soft exhale. “It’s the Earl of Slyham.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “That doesn’t ring any bells.”
“He’s been abroad for the past few years. Some say in Italy, others say Greece. No one’s quite sure. But he’s back now, and, according to some, looking for a wife.”
Elizabeth raised a brow. “And what is he like?”
Wilhelmina’s lips curved into a reluctant smile. “Tall. Sandy blond hair. Handsome, of course. Lean. Has that sort of careless, weather-worn look about him. But what struck me is that he sees straight through the ton’s nonsense. He doesn’t want to play their games either. He’s kind. Diverting. And he listens. Really listens.”
Elizabeth softened, her heart warming for her sister. “And how do you feel about him?”
“I…” Wilhelmina paused. “I feel a growing friendship. A comfort. I don’t know what else to call it yet.”
Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “Then go with your heart.”