by Abby Ayles
“There is no dignity in whatever life I could lead here, Antoinette.” Cecilia sighed. “Do you know what our current circumstances are?”
Antoinette shook her head and fetched a brush with which to comb her sister's hair.
“John's business is going bad, he has invested more money than he ought into it. He says it is a long-term investment that will pay out in, I don't know... perhaps five years. Until then we cannot afford servants, or a nanny. I am expected to do the work of all the maids it would take to keep this place clean, as well as to maintain the standard of life we previously lived, including entertaining guests,” Cecilia explained in a low voice. “At first I was expected to care for the children amidst all this too, but thankfully John's aunt has taken them in and is providing them with a nanny. And, to be fair, I do not miss them one bit. They are better off with her.”
“I am sure our parents would be able to help if only you asked,” Antoinette suggested as she slowly combed out the tangles.
“They have tried, and now the bottomless pit that is John Campbell is driving them into debt also. His own parents want no more to do with him, so you are all the support we have right now,” she replied.
“I am sure that is not the case. I mean... we still have our servants, and our quality of life. All is well, I am sure they can help you some more,” Antoinette replied, beginning to feel a bit of doubt creeping into her voice.
“They are living off a loan, Antoinette. And a hefty one. I am not sure if they think they are doing it to protect you, or if they are merely thinking of their own social status, but our parents are most definitely in debt.” Cecilia paused and stared at her tea. “Antoinette, do you have any suitors right now?”
Antoinette nodded. “Yes, although one is head and shoulders above the rest. He is-”
“Do you not think it odd,” Cecilia interrupted, “that they are presenting you with suitors now, after so many years of considering you too rude and rebellious to marry?”
Antoinette hesitated. “Well, they said I was doing much better, and was getting old enough that I ought to marry soon...”
“No, they need you to marry. Preferably someone wealthy. So that they can demand support when the time comes for their debts to be called. Because my husband is never going to pay them back for what he owes them,” Cecilia spat.
Antoinette shook her head. “No... No, I trust our parents. They just want what is best for both of us, and you are ungrateful and obstinate.” She put the brush down and reached to do up Cecilia's hair.
Cecilia seized her sister's hand and stopped her. “Antoinette, my darling sister... do not trust our parents,” Cecilia whispered, clasping Antoinette's hand tightly between her own. “And do not trust marriage. Or men. It is all a farce. It is all designed to control us.”
Antoinette shook her head again. “But... it is what we do. We find a good man and we marry him. Then we know we shall be provided for life.”
“And look how well that plan is turning out,” Cecilia whispered.
“Mary is married, and very happy,” Antoinette insisted.
“For now. It has been two months. Talk to her in eight years and she will sound just as I do now. That... or she will be persevering, bearing up under pressure like mother, a soulless servant.” Cecilia's eyes met Antoinette's, full of despair.
“Do you have no hope whatsoever?” Antoinette asked.
“None at all.” Cecilia gazed out the window and sighed. “I am done with breakfast. Tell father and John that if they want to get on my nerves by sending you to pester me, they are succeeding.”
Antoinette wanted to say something in response, but nothing came to mind. Instead, she pursed her lips, stood up, took the tray, and left the room.
John was sitting in a great armchair by the fire, smoking a billowing pipe and chewing on it anxiously. “Well?” he asked, looking up at her.
“I fear there is nothing more I can do for her,” Antoinette replied with a sigh.
John's shoulders fell. “Please, do not be this way... I am sure you can get through to her. You are sisters, after all...”
Antoinette shook her head. “I believe it is simply the circumstances have got the better of her. Perhaps when things improve she will become her usual self once more?”
John looked at his feet and chewed his pipe some more. “It may take some time to return to how things were.”
“I have written you another cheque, just to get you by-” Lord Byrd said, entering the room. He laid eyes on Antoinette and smiled. “Done so soon? Did it go well?”
Antoinette shook her head. “I do not believe anything we do can change her mind.”
Her father's smile fell and he pursed his lips. “Nothing?”
“Nothing at all,” Antoinette replied. “It seems to be just that the change in lifestyle has affected her. She cannot feel happy in her marriage when she is going through such hardships.”
John chewed his pipe stem some more. “I figured her faith would keep her happy through the hard times, that is what we swore on our wedding day.”
Lord Byrd squeezed John's shoulder. “It ought to, but you cannot change human nature, especially not the fickle nature of women. Here... How about we hire a maid tomorrow, get Cecilia a nice dress, make things a little more like the old days?”
John nodded. “I would appreciate that. And Antoinette can find her the right dress.”
“I am sorry, but I must return home,” Antoinette replied.
“Are you sure?” John asked. “Your company has been a salve to our wounds.”
Antoinette nodded. “I am glad I was able to help somehow, but I long for the company of other women, and my sister has left me feeling most unwanted.”
Her father nodded back. “I understand. And I do not wish for her attitude to affect your own outlook. You are too innocent to adopt such a bitter view of life. I shall order your coach later today,” Lord Byrd concluded.
“Thank you, I shall pack my bags.” Antoinette curtsied and made her way to her room. Walking past Cecilia's room, she could hear sobbing within. She was briefly tempted to enter and ask what the matter was. But she knew there was nothing more she could do.
Packing her bags, Antoinette's heart was heavy. She was not sure why, but it felt like she was abandoning her sister. Of course, their father and John Campbell were more than capable of ensuring that Cecilia had the means to care for herself, and food. But... Cecilia did not want them.
And yet, Antoinette knew she would be of no further assistance. Cecilia did not want anyone. She wanted to be left alone with her worries and bitterness. Which was a tragic way to be, but nobody, not even Antoinette, could change how someone felt.
The coach was announced before lunch. Antoinette had spent the morning talking to her father and brother in law, joking, discussing Thomas's mission in India, and generally avoiding the one subject which had brought them together in the first place. But as Antoinette realized it was time for her to leave, she knew she had to at least say farewell to her sister.
“I shall see Cecilia one last time,” Antoinette said, standing and straightening her skirts.
Her father nodded. John just gazed into the fireplace. Neither said a word.
Antoinette walked up to Cecilia's door. The sobbing had stopped. She knocked.
“Leave me be.”
“I have just come to bid you goodbye,” Antoinette said.
“Oh, come in, in that case,” Cecilia responded.
Antoinette opened the door slowly and tentatively. Cecilia was back on the windowsill, looking out over her garden, damp with the remainder of the rain, glistening as the sun bounced off the droplets of water on every leaf.
It was obvious Cecilia had been crying from the redness in her eyes and the slight swelling of her face, but she was now as calm as she had been when Antoinette had first seen her.
“I did not mean to hurt you or scare you. But I meant every word I said about them, and about marriage,” Cecilia said.
“I understand,” Antoinette replied. “Not your ideas... but at least your motives, and your feelings.”
Cecilia drew a deep breath. “It is good to know someone does. The rest of them would rather I were mad. It would be less shameful to them, I suppose.”
Antoinette sat down again in the same chair as she had the day before, and reached to hold her sister's hand. “I... I want you to be happy, Cecilia.”
“And I want that too... to be happy and to see you happy,” Cecilia replied. “But what we want doesn't come into it.”
Antoinette sighed. “Is there nothing I can do to help?” she asked.
“Do not marry. That is all I ask of you. Perhaps not ever, but at the very least hold on until this has ended, or until our parents are honest with you,” Cecilia replied. “Do not marry into a lie.”
Antoinette looked out the window at the raindrops on the wilting vines.
“Please...” Cecilia insisted, “please promise me you will wait.”
“I promise,” Antoinette replied. “For your sake I shall wait a while.”
“I love you, my dearest little sister,” Cecilia said, suddenly wrapping her arms around Antoinette's shoulders and pulling her into a close hug, so that she was lifted from her chair and almost fell onto the windowsill with her sister. “I hope and pray that you never suffer what I am suffering now.”
As Antoinette bade her farewells to her father and brother in law, as her luggage was loaded onto the coach, and until the house was out of sight, Cecilia's words echoed in her mind. She could not marry. Not until she knew the truth.
Chapter 12
The journey back was not as bleak as the journey there. The sun shone through the clouds, and though the wind was high, no rain fell for the first two days. But Antoinette's heart was as overcast as ever. She wanted to believe that what her sister had said was all lies, of course. But some of it was definitely true.
Her brother in law did need the money. He parents were offering it. Cecilia was expected to shoulder the burden of the housework. But how much of the rest could possibly be true?
Antoinette's fear for her own marriage and future was overwhelmed by yet another fear: a fear for her parents' well-being. If what Cecilia said was true, then her parents would soon be in a painful financial situation. Her brother had some savings, but from India he could not access them. Her sister and brother in law had barely nothing to their name any more, and his family was unwilling to help. Of course, Mary being married to Duke Haskett meant there was some wealth in the family, but... she knew her mother would be too proud to ask for money across so many social separations. Duke Haskett was her sister's daughter's husband. And, although he was a Duke, she would have to ask the daughter of her younger sister and a minor Lord for the money. It would be humiliating for Lady Byrd.
So Cecilia's story was plausible to Antoinette.
These thoughts consumed her mind over the journey home, leaving her feeling even more confused and pained than when she had departed. She had left seeking answers, but there were only more questions to be found.
On the night of the last day travelling, she simply arrived home, unpacked her bags, and collapsed onto her bed, mind racing.
The next morning, wandering downstairs to the drawing room, Antoinette was pleased to see her mother up and about. She had heard that her mother was recovering well in the last letter, but having been on the road for four days, she had missed the messenger who was probably sent to inform her of her mother's recovery.
“You look so much better, mother,” Antoinette said with a genuine smile. Somehow, knowing that her mother was no longer forced to take bed rest lifted her heavy heart a little. It was one less problem for her family to face.
Lady Byrd smiled back. “And you look well too. I did not hear you come in, and by the time a maid told me you were back, you were fast asleep. The journey must have been rather taxing.”
Antoinette nodded. “Very, but a good night's sleep in one's own bed does one wonders, and a good breakfast ought to fully revitalize me.”
“I assume from your early return that even you could not get through to your sister,” Lady Byrd said, her voice lowering.
Antoinette shook her head. “I am sorry mother. I did all I could, but... Cecilia needs time.”
Lady Byrd simply sighed heavily and wandered to her place at the table.
“Now,” she began, “you did mention that I ought to use this time to find you some new suitors. And, though I have been unwell and you were not away as long as we had thought, I have heard of several eligible young men who live in or frequent the area.”
Antoinette nodded. “I am glad you were able to find some more potential suitors. Do any seem as promising as Duke Godwin?” Cecilia's warning and her own promise echoed in her mind. But she knew that she could not be openly defiant towards her mother, or else she would be in a similar position to her sister.
“I was thinking perhaps we could see a few of them soon, to lift your mood?” her mother pressed.
Antoinette hesitated, then nodded again. Of course! More suitors meant more time between now and when she would be faced with the dilemma of marriage. If she agreed to this, far from betraying her promise to her sister, she was better able to keep it. “I would love to, mother,” Antoinette said with a smile.
As her mother listed all the potential suitors in the area, Antoinette realized that none sounded quite so dreamy as Duke Godwin. Indeed, few even matched up to Mr. Perry. It was clear her mother had not had enough time to vet for any personality traits, and instead had focused entirely on status and wealth. And as far as Antoinette could tell, none of them would be a match.
She wanted to give them a chance, of course. But after all she had seen and heard... she felt a little like she really was a piece of meat up for sale. All notions of romance had been tainted by the dust and cobwebs from her sister's home.
But at least if she went along with it she would not have to talk about the thoughts currently racing through her mind. So she nodded, smiled, and agreed that all of the men were viable options.
Her father returned home two days later, and she made an effort to be jovial. She knew that, having seen her sister in such a state, the last thing Lord Byrd needed was for his youngest child to also succumb to melancholy behaviour. But deep down, she still felt shattered.
She knew she could only keep up the pretence for so long, but she also knew that the longer she kept it up, the better her father would recover from the shock of staying at Cecilia's home.
Her lack of energy was not as easy to conceal as she had assumed, though.
“Antoinette, what is the matter?” her father asked her as the family sat around the fire, sipping tea after dinner.
“Nothing at all, I am just a little tired,” she replied.
“No, this is not tiredness. Even when you are tired you are usually so chatty, so happy...” Her father was looking at her intently. “You seem a little withdrawn. You have done all day.”
Antoinette shrugged. “I suppose seeing Cecilia in such a state has affected me more than I thought. But do not worry, I shall be right as rain in no time.”
“I am worried, though,” her father replied. “This is not like you. It is as though you caught it off your sister.” He paused, then put a hand on her shoulder. “Antoinette... what did she say to you?”
Antoinette paused. There was, of course, the temptation to come clean entirely. To admit to all that Cecilia had said and all the thoughts and feelings she was experiencing herself. But it felt like it would be the wrong thing to do. She felt sullied for even entertaining such thoughts.
She shook her head a little. “It was... not nice.”
“I need to know,” he insisted, “anything you say could help us to save her.”
Antoinette hesitated again. “She is just very unhappy, and does not believe that marriage can be happy anymore.”
“Has that scared you?” asked Lady Byrd.
; “Honestly it has,” Antoinette replied. “I worry that she is right and that I am getting involved in something I have no understanding of.”
“Antoinette, your sister is going through very hard times right now. And I am sure that every woman going through such times may find herself doubting the benefits of marriage. But most women persevere and come out the other end all the better for supporting their families.” Lady Byrd paused and sipped her tea. “Your sister is showing weakness, and ungodliness. It is not her thoughts she is voicing, but doubts planted in her mind by the Wicked One. Do not listen to him, or he shall corrupt you too.”
Lord Byrd nodded along as Lady Byrd spoke. As soon as she was finished, silence fell over the room. Antoinette was unconvinced. Her sister had not sounded wicked or ungodly when she spoke. She had sounded weary, defeated, and lonely. But she knew better than to defend her sister right now. Cecilia was a source of shame. If Antoinette sided with her, she too would shame them. Instead, she needed to stay strong so she could be there when anyone needed her.
Antoinette awoke the next morning to someone knocking at her door. She had overslept a little, based on what the clock on the wall was telling her, although it was still fairly dark outside. The knock sounded again.
“Yes?” she asked groggily.
“A letter for you Mistress, arrived just now,” the maid called back. “Are you decent?”
Antoinette sighed and collapsed back on her bed. “Please slide it under the door, and bring me some hot water for my toilette.”
“Of course Mistress.”
Antoinette peered down at the door out of the corner of her eye as the letter slipped underneath. She knew the floorboards would be fairly chilly this morning. The air was a little sharp already, and the darkness outside suggested the house had been warmed by no sun. The coal pan under her bed would have gone out by now, and the fire in the library, which was beneath her room, was not lit.
She did not particularly feel like braving the cold floor and wrapped herself in a coverlet before gingerly dropping her feet onto the floorboards. As expected, they were cold. She darted to the letter and rushed back into bed again, drawing the coverlet tightly around her as she inspected the letter.
