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“Emma, please do not remind me of him,” she sighed, fixing a stray hair. “But for what it is worth, yes. I thought, rather foolishly, that I could marry him and be a part of a loving family, and so could you. I couldn’t help but imagine the two of us knowing love, real love, from someone other than ourselves. It was foolish to do so, but I must admit that I do not regret it.”

“And you shouldn’t. If it made you happy, then it was the correct thing to do.”

Emma stood behind her sister as they looked in the mirror. It was as though her younger sister had aged a year in the time they had been away. She seemed weary, exhausted, and Emma pitied her greatly. It was too much for a young lady to bear, and the fact that she was taking it all so well astounded her.

Then again, it wasn’t as though they had much of a choice.

When they arrived downstairs, Lord Frenton was already waiting. He greeted them politely, albeit in quite a forced manner, and they left without another word.

The walk was silent, stilted, and not at all like the one Sarah had shared with Lord Rosendale. Emma tried not to think about him, as her sister had requested, but she had to. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. It infuriated her, and the fact that she had to simply stand by and watch it happen made it even worse.She followed behind them, waiting for one of them to say something—anything.

At last, the Viscount cleared his throat.

“I shall want children, of course.”

Emma stifled a scoff.

“Of course, my lord,” Sarah nodded. “How many?”

“As many as time allows. I require an heir. My last wife did not give me one.”

“Oh, you have been married before?”

“Twice, yes. The first was a lady I truly loved, but she passed away only a year into our marriage. The second was a lady my father chose. Her name was Elizabeth and we were married for thirty years. In that time, she gave me a daughter, but as she was of no use to me I married her off in her first season. I have not spoken to her since, for around eight years now. It is a shame, I suppose, as the two of you could have been friends.”

Emma felt nauseous at that. His daughter was older than his new bride. His daughter was older thanher.

Nearby, she could see the Duke playing cards in the garden with some other gentlemen. He was laughing with them, and she wondered if he was winning. She scolded herself for thinking of him when there were far greater issues at hand, but she couldn’t help herself. He looked up and noticed her, and she must have looked very concerned indeed because he abandoned his game in an instant, joining her.

“I do not wish to speak with you.”

“I am aware,” he nodded, “but as you look so unbelievably miserable, I ought to do the gentlemanly thing and at least accompany you.”

“That will not aid my misery.”

“No, but you won’t be alone in it.”

“I am already in very good company,” she sighed, gesturing to her sister.

He winced.

“Do not tell me they are courting.”

“In all fairness, they are not. They are practically engaged.”

“Ah. Is that what you were telling me last night?”

“Do not ask me about last night,” she replied coldly.

“Very well, I will not,” he nodded, and they walked in silence for a while before adding. “They do not look very much like a couple, do they?”

“Not at all. My heart is breaking for her, but it is what must be done. She is resigned to it, I believe.”

“I wish there was something I could do, as your sister is a lovely young lady.”

“Yes, well, it is as I told you. Some of us have true struggles.”

“So you do wish to discuss last night?”