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.

It was from Duke Godwin. Addressed to her personally. And yet... she could not bring herself to open it. She wanted so very much to see him again, to talk to him again, to make sure he knew that she valued him and intended to marry him. And it was for that reason that she could not possibly see him. After all, if she did she was sure to break her promise to Cecilia.

And if she opened that letter... then she was sure to want to see him again.

She wondered if her mother had seen the letter, but then concluded that, as it was unopened, she could not have. Lady Byrd would not let Antoinette see such news without her there to keep an eye on affairs.

Another knock at the door caused her to scramble, shoving the letter beneath her pillows for safekeeping. She would read it with a clearer head later. “Yes?” she asked.

“Mr. Perry is visiting,” her mother's cheerful voice rang. “Please make sure that you are dressed promptly, as he will be here in but an hour.”

“I am not feeling well,” Antoinette lied.

“Oh, honey, a little socializing won't hurt, surely? You looked fine last night,” her mother insisted.

“It's not that, I have an awful headache. I would like to stay in my room for today and get some rest,” Antoinette replied.

She heard a frustrated huff at the other side of the door. “Very well, I suppose we can make an exception.”

Antoinette waited until her mother's footsteps had disappeared before getting up and finding her hairbrush. She returned to her warm bed to comb her hair, rather than sit at the dresser. She knew she ought to make an effort. At least to see these men and speak to them. She knew that, at the end of the day, she would have to marry someone. But, for now, she could not bear to face a suitor. All her romantic hopes had been shattered like glass. And, although she clung firmly to her belief that her sister was exaggerating, she had to acknowledge that the fairy tales and her own dreams were exaggerated also.

She needed to stop and to think. To work out exactly where the truth could be found. Until then, the prospect of marriage was ludicrous. How could she commit so strongly to something she didn't even understand?

A knock came at the door again. “Your hot water, Mistress. And there was another letter for you,” the maid said.

“Come in,” Antoinette replied grudgingly. Were it not for the hot water, she would have asked for the letter to be slid under the door again. But she was nowhere near as melancholy as Cecilia, and had no intention of giving up her invigorating morning wash.

The maid walked in, put down the jug of water, and handed Antoinette the letter before she went to task mixing some hot soapy water in the basin.

Antoinette knew with a glance at the envelope that it was from Lucy. That handwriting was unmistakable. She tore the letter open and began reading:

“My dearest Antoinette,

I was so sorry to hear your sister was not well, and I trust that at the time of receiving this she is much better and you are happily at home once again. I hope that your suitors are understanding of your family circumstances, especially Duke Godwin. I have always believed it to be the mark of a good woman that she puts family high in her priorities, only after God, and I pray that these men see the same sense. And if they do not? Then they are probably not prepared to marry.

I shall be returning in the next week, and cannot wait to talk with you about all that has happened in my absence. I hope my parents make choices on my behalf that are as excellent as the choices your parents are making for you.

Your friend always,

L.F.”

Reading the letter brightened her day a little, and gave her an idea. She would talk things out with her friend and her cousin. They would surely be able to reassure her of the goodness of marriage and how wonderful it would be to marry Duke Godwin. Her sister may be disillusioned, but her friend's naïve optimism and Mary's happiness would surely ease her fears and inspire her to seek the best marriage arrangements possible.