Wilhelmina flashed her a smile and kissed her cheek, “Feel better soon, Lizzie.”
“Thank you,” she replied and her sister walked out of the room.
Now alone, Elizabeth lay still for a long moment.
Her tea sat untouched. Her fingers curled tightly around the cup, heart pounding as she stared at the faint pattern on the coverlet.
She would have to face him again at some point.
Alasdair.
She didn’t know if she’d survive it.
That evening, Elizabeth crept down the hall to visit her younger sisters. She needed comfort. Sanity. Something to tether her to the girl she used to be—before whispered invitations and kisses in shadowed rooms threatened to unravel her entirely.
Daphne and Victoria were on the floor, cross-legged, playing a game of cards. They were mid-argument, as usual.
“You can’t play that!” Daphne said with a sigh. “That’s not how it works.”
“Says who?” Victoria challenged, her tone triumphant as she slammed down another card. “The rules are made up anyway. This makes it more interesting.”
“You make everything chaotic,” Daphne muttered, though not unkindly.
At the sound of a soft step in the doorway, Victoria’s head turned.
“Lizzie!” she cried, leaping to her feet.
Elizabeth opened her arms instinctively, and Victoria ran straight into them, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.
“My wild little fox,” Elizabeth murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Daphne followed, slower but no less warm, and hugged them both. “You’re warm,” she observed, frowning. “You look… tired.”
“I am tired,” Elizabeth admitted, stroking Daphne’s soft, honey-colored hair. “But I’m better now.”
Victoria leaned back to look up at her. “You haven’t been at supper lately. Or at any of the parties. Are you hiding again?”
“Vicky,” Daphne warned gently, but Elizabeth raised a hand to stop her.
“It’s all right,” she said softly. “I suppose I am hiding a little.”
“You shouldn’t,” Victoria said firmly. “They’re all dull without you. And Wilhelmina said a viscount brought you cake.”
“That was days ago,” Elizabeth said with a wan smile.
“But the garden party is coming up,” Daphne added, glancing up. “Will you go to that one? I heard they’ve hired musicians, and there’ll be lemonade and ices.”
Elizabeth hesitated. Her hands were still resting on their shoulders, but her eyes drifted to the window, to the soft night pressing against the glass. She felt as if she were caught betweentwo selves: the girl they saw, and the woman she was becoming. Or already was.
“Yes,” she said at last. “I think I must.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “That doesn’t sound like a yes.”
“It is. It’s just… not an eager one.” Elizabeth smiled faintly.
“You used to like garden parties,” Daphne said quietly. “You always said they were peaceful. You liked watching people more than talking to them.”
“I still do,” Elizabeth murmured. “But sometimes it’s harder now.”