“Love. Do not be ridiculous. You will do as you are told,” he growled. “This family cannot afford any more disgrace. Find a husband and do it quickly, or face the consequences.”
“What consequences? Being trapped here in this house forever?” she shouted, her heart pounding.
Her father scoffed. “Is that what would be so terrible for you? Well, I will have you know those would be dreadful consequences for me, indeed. I had hoped to be rid of all of you by now.Threedaughters. How did your mother curse me so? I hoped you’d at least find me decent sons-in-law, but no.”
She wanted to scream, to lash out at the man who had caused her so much pain and suffering. But instead, she took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside her. “I am tired of this constant fighting,” she said. “I want nothing more than to leave this house and find some peace.”
Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heels and fled the room, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.
“Well then, we are in agreement,” her father’s angry shout echoed down the hallway, but she didn’t stop.
As Arabella exited her father’s study, the weight of her words and the guilt of her actions pressed heavily on her heart. The negative atmosphere of Hayward Manor seemed to cling to her, an invisible shroud she couldn’t shake off. She walked down the hallway, their argument still ringing in her ears, and headed toward the living room, hoping to find some solace.
There, she saw her older sister, Hanna, seated by the window with a book in her lap. She glanced at the door to their right, which led to their father’s study. It was a French door and usually stayed shut, but it wasn’t airtight and thus sounds traveled. There had been many an afternoon where Arabella had been forced to listen to her father berate one of her sistersthrough that door. And she realized Hanna had to have heard everything she’d said—including her declaration to want to leave the house.
She bit her lip, her hands clasped behind her back.
“Hanna, did you hear my conversation with Father?” Arabella asked. She hoped her sister hadn’t, but of course she had.
“It was hard not to. I could have left, but I assumed you’d tell me everything that happened afterward anyhow, and by staying here I would save you time,” Hanna said and then slipped off the windowsill. The light caught her auburn hair, giving it a brilliant red shimmer.
Arabella had always been envious of her sister’s lovely tresses. She’d inherited their father’s chestnut-brown hair, which she found awfully dull. At least she had their mother’s jade-colored eyes, a shade not often found and different from both her sisters’ darker eyes.
“I didn’t mean it,” Arabella said.
Hanna shook her head. “You did. And that’s alright. I would have meant it too. I do. I can’t wait to get out of this house. Neither can Emma. I had a letter from Alexander again, in reply to my last plea to bring us to Ireland.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“He said no again?” Arabella asked, though she knew the answer.
Alexander had been true to his word—he’d kept in touch with them by letter, but over the years, his letters had become less and less frequent. She assumed it was their oft-repeated request that he bring them to Ireland, where he’d started a business, that pushed him away. She’d believed him when he’d told them that he’d come for them if things got too bad. And maybe he’d meant it at the time. Alas, now, he clearly didn’t want to be near them, or perhaps he felt too guilty for not doing more for them.
“Of course, he said no,” Hanna replied, bitterness tinging her words.
“I am sorry,” Arabella murmured.
“For what? You did nothing wrong. It is him,” Hanna said. “Anyhow, I do not blame you for wanting to follow in his footsteps and leave this awful place behind. Please, do not tell Emma about Alexander’s letter. You know she will only be angry with him again, and the last thing we need is for her to write him another rage-filled letter.”
Arabella grimaced. It was true, it wasn’t just her father who made their home into a miserable place. The longer it took the three young women to find husbands, the more frustrated they became, and the higher the tension rose. As much as she loved her sisters, their bickering often got to her.
“I won’t, but don’t tell her I said I wanted to leave either.”
Hanna sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from Arabella’s face. “I won’t. But you do not need to feel guilt, Bella. You must do what you need to do to find happiness. But remember, never settle for a man you don’t love. Otherwise, you’ll end up trapped again in a house you’ll always want to leave.”
Arabella nodded. She knew Hanna was right. The prospect of leaving the manor, of finding a life beyond its oppressive walls, was both terrifying and exhilarating. But the thought of settling for a marriage of convenience, of exchanging one prison for another, was something she couldn’t bear.
“Father seems to think I can find a husband tonight. Isn’t that ridiculous?” Arabella scoffed.
“Is he drunk already?” Hanna asked.
Arabella shook her head. “No, not at all. He really thinks so,” she assured her.
“What a foolish man. Do not listen to him. What is he going to do to you if you do not find a husband tonight? Throw you out on the street? It would be a scandal, and you know how averse he is to scandals,” her sister assured her. “Now if you find someone, wonderful! But if not, then do not worry. By no means should you settle. Promise me you won’t settle. Promise me you’ll find love.”
“I promise,” Arabella whispered, clinging to her sister.
They stood together for a moment, but then, with a final reassuring squeeze, Hanna pulled back and smiled. “Now, let’s get ready for the ball. We have a long night ahead of us, and who knows? Maybe tonight will bring us one step closer to the future we all deserve.”
Arabella nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.
