“I never discussed that particular event with my husband, which I now realise was extremely foolish, but I just couldn’t. I had too many negative feelings attached to that memory, particularly to my impression that my brother forced Duke Talbot to marry me, so it felt better to leave it in the past.”
“And to focus on what youcouldchange, like I taught you,” Lady Burnham said, and Lizzie nodded.
“Do you believe him when he says he wasn’t forced to marry you?” Lady Burnham asked after spending several moments deep in thought.
“I don’t want to believe anything he says. But let’s assume, for the sake of discussion, that he was forced, then, all right, he is an awful man who concocted this revenge scheme and ruined my reputation in the process. But I think I’d be able to derive some perverse satisfaction from the fact that he was ultimately forced to sully his precious bloodline,” Lizzie admitted, then got up and approached the window.
She stood there for a moment, lost in thought, not realising that she was staring at the exact place on the sidewalk where she had first laid eyes on her now-husband.
“But he didn’t seem forced or unhappy. Nor worried about his bloodline,” she added bitterly, then turned to face her friend. “You were at Norwich with us, am I wrong?”
Lady Burnham shook her head in immediate denial. “You’re not. The Duke seemed truly content and was a most attentive husband during the time that I had the pleasure of spending at your home.”
“So then, if he wasn’t forced, the only option that remains is that he indirectly forcedmeto marryhim,and sullied my reputationin the pursuit of his goal. You told me I had the right to refuse dances, courting, proposals – and he took that right away from me by playing on my greatest weaknesses – my fear of becoming like my mother and my desperate desire to please my brother. So believing him when he says he wasn’t forced is almost worse in a way,” Elizabeth concluded.
“I see,” Lady Burnham said gently. “You are facing a truly great obstacle in your marriage. I wish I knew what the right thing to do was.”
Elizabeth returned to her seat, saying, “I agonised for days over how to handle this mess. Not even the King managed to get a divorce despite all the issues in his marriage, who’s going to grant me one for this? So I moved back here to get some distance from my husband, but he followed me.”
“Did he say why?” Lady Burnham asked.
“He said we made vows which he intends to honour,” Elizabeth replied, upset that she still hadn’t found a good way to counter his argument. “But I want to live separately.”
Lady Burnham seemed to be weighing her next words carefully.
“My dear child,” she said finally, “Don’t misinterpret my words as me underestimating your anger and hurt, which you have good reason to feel. I simply wish to caution you against making any rash decisions that cannot be undone. We’ve both known loss, so I know you understand the finality of death and how brief our time on Earth actually is.”
“My mind is telling me that your approach is most likely the right one, but my heart is still too hurt to even listen to him. I just want to avoid him and pretend he isn’t there. I hate to even look at him,” she whispered.
“Then do that, ignore him, give yourself time, don’t speak to him, but also open your eyes and ears while you’re keeping your mouth closed?” she urged, and Elizabeth finally smiled, albeit weakly.
“I shall try,” she promised.
*
Every night after dinner, Duke Talbot would join Lizzie and her mother in the parlour and would inevitably offer to read to them. Catherine would accept the offer with great enthusiasm, and Elizabeth could tell that Talbot always carefully selected titles that he thought his wife would like, but she remained firm and indicated very clearly that she was unaffected by his efforts.
“Jane told me she found you sitting alone in the kitchen after midnight yesterday?” Catherine asked her one evening.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted.
“Why not?” Her mother asked, as if Elizabeth would suddenly become a different person and bare her heart to her.
“I don’t know, Ma. Why do people have trouble sleeping? Who knows,” she shrugged.
Talbot looked at Lizzie a little bit too intently for the rest of the evening.
That night, as she tossed and turned, tormented by her own mind, Lizzie heard a scratching at the door. She grabbed the coverlet tighter, suddenly scared of whatever was out there. More scratching followed, then a bark.
Thunder?She thought as she carefully approached the door.
Indeed, her dog had somehow found his way back upstairs from where he usually slept near the kitchens.
“What are you doing here, thunderous Thunder?” Lizzie cooed. “Did you miss me? Is that why you came all this way?”
Thunder wagged his tail eagerly as he slobbered all over her hand.
“Well, come in then,” she said, opening the door wider, and the dog immediately curled up in front of the fire. “Must be nice being a dog,” Lizzie said with a yawn as she watched him and, before she knew it, fell asleep.
