“I never meant to hurt you,” Mary continued, tightening her arm around her. “Nor did George. I only hoped we might recover some of what we had lost, some of what was stolen from us in the war.”
Every muscle in Cecelia's body tensed.
“We were all such good friends before all of this,” Mary sighed and lifted her hand to stroke the back of Cecelia's head. She ran her fingers through the loose strands of hair that had fallen out of Cecelia's braid. “I just wanted George to give things a chance to go back to the way they were.”
Cecelia could no longer hold her tongue.
Her voice shook as she whispered into the darkness, “Things will never be the same again, Mary.”
She felt her sister's body tense against her own.
“I knew you weren't asleep,” Mary said, her voice mildly amused. “Why did you try to trick me?”
Cecelia rolled onto her back and looked up at her sister as she lay propped on one elbow.
Mary continued to play with Cecelia's braid.
“I did not wish to talk.”
“And now?”
Cecelia shrugged. She glanced down, watching Mary's fingers twiddle with her hair.
“Everything is so complicated,” Cecelia sighed, her chest tight no matter how deeply she tried to breathe.
“It does not need to be,” Mary insisted. “I am certain there is a way we can all get through this.”
Cecelia smiled at her sister's constant desire to reassure her that everything would be well in the end. She only hoped she could share the same optimism.
“I am sad that you and George could not see eye to eye where Lord Greystone is concerned,” Mary admitted, and Cecelia shivered.
“As am I.”
Silence fell on the room for several moments, and in the moonlight that filtered through a sliver in the drapes, Cecelia studied her sister's face.
She looked thoughtful, her brown eyes still fixed on the hair between her fingers.
“Are you certain Lord Greystone is the one?”
That question caused Cecelia's heart to skip a beat.
She had always imagined that when this question came, she would be abundantly sure of the answer. Yet, all she felt now was confusion.
Cecelia shook her head, her lips pursed.
“If you had asked me a few days ago,” she said, her lip quivering, “I would have said yes. Lord Greystone is respectable, kind, and wealthy, and on paper, he is the perfect suitor, but—”
He has also shown me keen interest, which is more than can be said for some,she thought, unable to admit that her conundrum had begun long before now.
At that, Mary met her gaze. “What changed?”
Cecelia closed her eyes.
So much had changed.
She thought back to the very moment when all her plans had suddenly stopped making sense.
“George … he … he kissed me.”
