A QUIET TIME
“...and so, I think I will be more an ally to him. A helpmate. Not quite as... as mother and father were.”
Amabel was sitting in her bedchamber – the one she had shared upstairs with Alina when they were girls and which she later occupied alone before the wedding.
Alina sat on the bed across from her. She frowned.
“Amabel? But... are you not enamored of him then?”
Amabel shook her head. “It's not that, Alina. I mean, I am. I'm not... Oh, I don't know!”
Alina reached across. Amabel felt her hand on her arm. She tensed, then softened. She covered her sister's hand with her own, pale tapered fingers almost identical.
“You seem a very good match to me, sister,” Alina said encouragingly. “And from what I have seen, he adores you.”
“I think he does.” Amabel sniffed, blew her nose on a handkerchief and shook herself. “I must simply be practical now. I do not need a... a lover,” she said, cheeks flaming redly. “I am Lady Amabel, and I will be a support to him.”
Alina raised a brow. “That I never had any doubt about, sister. I do think he is a lover, though. He loves you. Of that I have no doubt.”
Amabel sighed and let her sister's words heal the pain that squeezed her heart. She had understood, when Broderick had stopped matters on their wedding night. She had felt pity for him, caught in the dilemma of marrying her when he wished only vengeance for his wife. Her uncle had informed her a little of his story, and she had guessed most of the rest or pieced it together from hearsay.
But none of what she knew made her feel better.
The only thing that did, for the most part, had been her brisk decision to be his ally, not his wife. She was clever; she was knowledgeable. She could help him. She could advise him. She could help him win his vengeance. Then, at least, she would be part of his life. She had, it seemed, no other route into his heart.
“I will try not to consider how he feels,” Amabel said stiffly. “At least, not where I am concerned. I am of use to him. No more and no less. And I will be contented.”
Alina looked at her helplessly.
Alina's words, she had to admit, had soothed her greatly. She wanted to believe her, truly she did. But she could not let herself do it. To consider whether Broderick loved her was to face the fact that the only woman he had ever loved was his wife. Aisling.
And that meant that he would not love her. Not like that.
What she could do, though, was be a good friend.
“Amabel?”
“Yes, sister?”
“Would you like to go for a ride?”
Amabel sighed. “I do not know, sister. I am so confused about so many things. I think I would like some time by myself?”
Alina inclined her head. “I know. But I had thought that, since you will leave Lochlann so soon, we might spend some time together before...” She covered her face with her hand.
Amabel felt instantly miserable. “My dear Allie! Of course, I want to see you. We can ride if you would like to. But you must not say we will not see each other often. I want to see you every month at least. Or I shan't go.”
Alina laughed a little shakily. “I am not sure Uncle would approve of that, my dear sister. And Dunkeld is close, but not so close that I could make the journey often.”
“Nonsense,” Amabel said briskly. “We could organize something.”
Alina smiled and the two women embraced. Amabel felt her heart grow a little heavier with the added pain. She had just discovered she would be resigned to a lifetime of unfulfilled love with her husband. And now she had to face parting from the only other person she loved deeper than life?
She sniffed, feeling tears start. Alina passed her a handkerchief and they sat silently a while.
After a moment, Alina laid a hand on her shoulder. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded even.
“Well, at least there is one thing I cannot do if you are so far away...”
Amabel blinked. “And what is that?”
“Pester you for the details of what your husband has under his tunic.”
Amabel blinked. She covered her mouth with her hand, shocked. The two of them dissolved in giggles.
When Amabel sat up finally, stomach heaving with happy laughter, she sighed.
“I might be glad of that, sister.” she said, voice weak with laughing. “If naught else, it saves me the trouble of having to concoct ridiculous exaggerations, just to make things more interesting.”
They both laughed helplessly and when Amabel finally stopped, tears streaking her face, she realized that the happy release had gone some way to healing her.
Whatever happened and however much her husband's rejection wounded and upset her, she would always have Alina to talk to. And no one could stop her writing letters.
She left the room feeling happier than she had all day.