“He cares about you, Cassandra.” Arabella placed a hand on her arm. “No one who saw you together last night could doubt it.”
“I know that he cares, but not only for me,” she said quietly. “He cares for everyone and everything. He cares so much that he hurts himself, and so he denies that he cares, and gets himself into such a tangle over it! If I were to tell him I love him and want him to stay, he’ll say it’s because I want a baby or because I’m doing my duty. He insists on being alone, and why should he be alone when I am here to love him?”
Arabella sighed. “For a man who claims to love honesty, he tells himself a lot of lies.”
“Maybe they’re not all lies. He can care about me, and still prefer to live separately, because there are so many other things he cares about more.” She stared at the brown waters of the Serpentine. “I was lonely before and I thought that was awful. But to be with him and yet not be with him—this is the loneliest, most awful thing in the world.”
A light breeze rippled the surface of the water. A duck glided past, followed by a line of ducklings. Before Cassandra could count them, they had disappeared into the reeds.
“I wish I had answers,” Arabella said. “But my own experience has shown me that the most important things in life cannot be taught; we must learn them on our own.”
“Sometimes I think there are the right words, if only I could find them. To prove to him that if we share pain, it gets smaller, and if we share joy, it gets bigger. But he doesn’t want to know. He’s going to leave me, Arabella. He’s going to leave me and I don’t know how to stop him.”
Cassandra could have easily indulged her misery longer, but Arabella gently reminded her that London was watching, so she put away her feelings and sealed them with a smile.
A quick look confirmed that Lucy still trailed behind, guarded by Isaac and Emily, and, marvel of marvels, she had not yet incited a single riot, duel, or brawl.
Another look revealed the Duke and Duchess of Sherbourne, strolling arm in arm, the duke telling the world that he stood by his wife and cared nothing for vicious rumors started by an unpleasant woman who had been forced to flee.
In tacit agreement, Cassandra and Arabella drifted closer, feigning unawareness, hoping to be seen. A delicate dance: Cassandra could not approach the duchess, but must hope that the duchess approached her.
The alternative was the cut direct, which would ruin her forever.
The duchess saw Cassandra. Looked right at her. Met her eyes. Held them.
Cassandra waited, like a prisoner awaiting a verdict.
Then the duchess said a word to her husband, who followed her gaze, nodded graciously at Cassandra, and released his wife’s arm. She took a few steps toward Cassandra and stopped. Cassandra left Arabella and closed the gap, so they met each other like duelists, their seconds watching on.
“You are looking well rested, Cassandra, my dear.”
“The spring air agrees with you, Grandmother.”
“It is beneficial to one’s health to take a turn.”
“I daresay that is what keeps you looking young.”
In fact, her grandmother looked tired. Cassandra knew she did too. But that was not the point.
“I must apologize,” Cassandra said. “I have struggled all morning to find the words. My sister and I…”
The duchess’s mouth tightened. She looked into the distance. “I must apologize too,” she said, with quiet dignity. “I should never have allowed Lord and Lady Bolderwood to attend the ball and not only because…Well, you know why. But you spoke in my defense anyway. That was…admirable and gracious. And I…I thank you.”
The duchess was proud. Cassandra knew the words had cost her.
“We are family,” Cassandra said.
“Yes.”
Her grandmother sighed. She glanced at her husband, who was in conversation with the Duke of Dammerton, and looked back at Cassandra.
“Sherbourne and I have been married for more than forty years,” she said. “That is highly unusual, and I consider myself blessed. Last night, my husband told me that he feels the same. You young people cannot imagine what it means to have shared a life as we have. One can never understand the workings of another’s marriage; at times, one cannot even understand the workings of one’s own.” She began to walk, and Cassandra fell into step beside her. “Sherbourne says that we must not