Her eyes burned as she fisted her hands, her fingernails digging into her palms. They wouldn't listen. They never listened. It was a miracle Carina had lived this long between her mother's crackpot ideas and sketchy physicians with their tonics and treatments. Nothing ever worked. The one thing that did work had been coming to Bath. Carina couldn't leave. Bella would have to think of something to keep her here. She didn't know what the something could be. Whenever she tried to speak up on Carina's behalf, her mother always accused her of jealousy. But it wasn't jealousy that burned Bella from the inside out. It was sheer exhaustion and fear.
Carina was her only sister, her only friend, and confidant. Every day Carina lived was a gift, but there was always a sense that time was moving too fast for Carina, and Bella couldn't keep up.
She couldn't help feeling as though every moment with her sister was precious and when she was gone, Bella would be utterly alone. She's been at Carina’s side helping her, holding her through her most terrifying moments when her lungs would not take in air, when it felt as if her life was being choked from her. That was how Carina described her breathing spasms. It was true Bella had missed out on a lot of things, and she did feel moments of resentment.
Sitting by her sister at the balls, staying with her in the barouche when they visited the park. She didn't want Carina to be alone. Bella didn't want to miss a moment with her best friend when it could be her last.
But there were times when… When she wanted to run, she wanted to stroll along the beach with the other young ladies. Bella wanted to dance, spinning around the ballroom like the other girls. She wanted to laugh until her sides hurt. Bella just wanted to live like death wasn’t lurking around every corner, waiting to steal her sister.
Though her mother liked to pretend Carina was fine, she also hovered over her like a dragon with its gold, taunting Bella daily how wrong she was, how stubborn and selfish to keep reminding Carina of her illness as though Bella took pleasure in their sheltered life. Bella hadn’t any other choice but to be her sister's only champion.
This was her lot in life.
She may want to experience other things, but for now, those other things would have to wait. If she didn't protect her sister, who else would?
No one bothered to listen to Carina, to the way she felt about the constant poking and prodding from mysterious doctors, touching her, making her undress in front of them alone.
Yes, Bella had become quite stubborn and demanding, ordering those doctors to let her stay during her sister’s examinations. She'd fight for her sister. She’d lay down her own life if she must.
Carina was the sweetest kindest person she knew. She didn't ask for her lung condition or ask to be put on a pedestal by their mother. Bella knew it was no desired place to be. Bella didn't remember at what point she started to push back for her sister but she had.
She could hear her mother fussing around Carina, asking her about the strange smell in the room, touching her hair, and pinching her cheeks once more.
“This will require new wardrobes for all of us. I’ll go at once and have Gertrude make the necessary appointment,” their mother said. “Bella?”
Bella turned, unable to hide her animosity toward her mother.
“I expect nothing but the best of behavior. I don't want it getting back to Sir Sebastian that Carina comes with unpleasant baggage.”
Bella bit her lip to keep from saying something terrible to her mother. Their bickering always upset Carina, which made Carina breathe harder. Bella remained silent and Lady Holden left them alone once more.
Carina and Bella were silent, their mother’s sharp tone and exit leaving a cloud of tension behind. Bella's heart pounded but she couldn't imagine what Carina must be feeling. She was the one to be married, after all.
Carina slowly rose from her stool, and she bent to pick up the letter. Bella watched as her eyes moved back and forth over the words, and then she set the letter down on the small table between them where empty cups of tea and crumb-filled plates sat ignored.
“I can hardly remember him,” Carina said. “But I do remember him being tall, and I think he had brown hair.”
“He did,” Bella said. “And he had blue eyes.”
Bella could not forget those eyes. She'd never seen anything like them, so bright, like the blue sky on the clearest day. They'd shone like gemstones. They were perhaps his most attractive quality. Magnificent eyes attached to a lad that was all skin and bone and heavy jaw. A man's jaw fitted to a boy. Had he grown into it by now?
He'd been big then, what would he be now full-grown?
And though it turned her stomach to think it, she tried to picture her sister in bed with such a man. That overly large jaw, those impossibly bright blue eyes.
She shivered.
In her vision, her poor sister struggled to breathe. Did he even know about her sister’s illness? What would he do if Carina couldn't complete the act, if she laid there wheezing while he flopped around on top of her?
Bella couldn't save her then. It would be much too late. She knew little about the actual act of lovemaking, but love wasn’t involved in this contract at all. Even if it were, love wouldn't save Carina. Love wouldn't make her lungs work any better.
There was only one thing to do.
Stop this marriage from happening.
Carina might live through winter in the Burrow but only if she returned to Bath before spring unwedded and un-bedded. All Bella had to do was think of a way to put a stop to it all.
“I don't think I have much choice,” Carina said. “I did sign the contract.”
“You were a child. Mother and Father should have known better. Even then you couldn’t…that you're not…” She was going to say fit but that sounded horrible. “It's not right for you to marry a stranger.”
“We can’t always do the things we want to do,” Carina said.
“Perhaps speaking to Father would help. He's been away so long, I don't think he really knows you aren't any better. You're just not worse by being here in Bath. If he knew how harmful it would be to make you leave…” Bella swallowed. “He'll be more reasonable, and he can speak to Lord Drummond. If they know that you would be hurt…”
Bella didn't know how to go on. They wanted her sister to provide an heir. Carina was no broodmare. It was just all so terrible.
“If I can’t be a wife, what will I ever be?” Carina asked, staring forlornly at her painting.
Bella focused on her sister. “You… You could be a famous painter, you could…” Never leave Bath. That was the truth, and suddenly the truth felt so awful to say aloud, like a death sentence. Carina could never be a wife; she could never be a mother, never do more than sit. If she wanted to live it all, she would have to continue the same life she'd endured for the last six years.
But it could be worse. Living as a spinster in Bath wasn't so terrible, was it? Bella could think of worse fates.
“You'll always have your painting, Carina, I promise. We just have to make them see reason. I'm sure Sir Sebastian is a fine man. He can marry someone else. It is not as though we owe them something. This was just some stupid arrangement Papa made with Lord Drummond because they’re friends. They thought it would be amusing to join their families.”
Carina retook her seat and faced her easel, not replying, but then she straightened and turned to face to Bella twisted.
“That’s not what Mother said. She made it sound quite dire if I break the contract. What if you married him?”
Bella drew back. “Me?”
“We could propose it as an alternative to me. Lord Drummond wants an heir. Sir Sebastian is his only son. Lady Drummond couldn't bear any more children without risk to her health. They will understand, I think, if we replace me with you.”
Bella blinked “Replace?”
“It would fulfill the contract,” Carina said.
“Damn the contract,” Bella returned. “I am not a replacement wife. I am not a horse or—an object to
fulfill a bargain. I'm a person and so are you, and I shouldn't be made to marry him anymore than you should.”
Carina frowned at her. “We are honor bound to fulfill the contract. You know that it's the way things are done. The same would be said to Sir Sebastian if he wanted to refuse. He is just as obligated. I imagine he's not any more excited than we are, but what can we do? This is just the way it is.”
Bella ground her teeth. “That's not fair to anyone, least of all the women who have to marry men they don't love and take the greater risk bearing the child. Why would anyone agree to such a thing? Are daughters worth so little in the eyes of our fathers and mothers?”
Carina faced her easel and bowed her head. “It feels like it sometimes, like from birth I was issued a death sentence, and it's not fair. I should want to marry. I should want a household of my own.”
“It would be good if we'd been given a choice in the matter. That's what it comes down to. We haven’t been given the choice in who to marry or how to live our lives. We've just been told what to do—”
They both froze as the sharp clack of their mother's heels returned. They stared at the door with the same dreaded expression as their mother sauntered in, waving another piece of paper.
“This must've slipped out when I first open the letter. Carina, it is for you.” She narrowed her eyes at Bella. “A letter from Sir Sebastian. You have my permission to correspond with him, of course. He is your betrothed, after all.” She said this while shaking her head at Bella. She handed Carina the letter and strode away.
Bella hurried to Carina’s side, standing over her shoulder as she read the letter.
“Lady Carina, I write to you from Greece. My father has informed me that as my thirtieth birthday approaches, we will be due to wed this Christmas. Until now, we have not had much time to become acquainted—”
“None at all,” Bella scoffed, “he's never even come to visit you.”
Carina continued to read aloud, “I look forward to furthering our acquaintance when we both return to Fox Glen. I've been in communication with your brother. Our friendship has been encouraged since we were very young and has held up to the test of time. He tells me much about both of you, conveyed through his letters, and I look forward to meeting you.
“He's informed me you enjoy painting, and I've collected an assortment of rare paints that I think you would like, based on his descriptions of your work. I too enjoy art, though I have no proficiency for creating it. I confess I was concerned about your health as the time drew near for our wedding. I remember as a lad that it was rather tenuous. I hope it has improved. I have been assured by your brother and your father that it has and I'm glad —"
Bella gasped. “What nonsense have they been filling his head with?”
Carina waved at her to be quiet and continued reading.
“Since we are little more than strangers, I've included a miniature to be delivered to you so you may know what I look like before we meet. I will list my interests so that perchance we might have something common to share in person. I enjoy riding and hunting as all good Englishmen do. Fishing, archery, training with a broadsword, and playing the Spanish guitar, which is something I learned from my time spent in Spain. I haven't found an equivalent in English instruments that you might be familiar with, but you'll be happy to know I have my own guitar, and I will play for you when we meet.”
“A Spanish guitar?” Carina asked. “I wonder what such a thing looks like?”
“We’re destined to find out,” Bella said.
“He doesn't sound so terrible.”
“It’s a letter written in his own hand, why would he sound terrible?”
“I don't know. People tend to reveal themselves in the way they write, don't you think?”
“I wouldn't know. We don't see very many people or receive many letters, do we? Other than each other, we haven't had a chance to make friends, but I suppose so.”
“You could have if you tried,” Carina said. “You could go about doing things, attend musicales, fly kites in the park, go swimming—”
“I can't swim,” Bella said.
“But you could if you went out and tried it. You could do anything you want, Bella, but you always choose to stay with me, and I feel like my illness is as much yours as it is mine. Why don’t you hate me?” Carina set the letter down on the table next to their father’s.
“How can I hate you? You are my friend, my best friend, and my sister. You've been my only playmate, the only person I've ever needed.”
Carina's eyes welled up. “But I'm not enough. You need more and I do too, but while I can't have more from life, you can. You deserve it. If anyone should be marrying and having the chance for a new life, it should be you. He sounds quite interesting, doesn't he?”
“He sounds like the typical definition of a young lord. I didn't hear anything particularly unique except for the bit about the guitar.”
“If you take my place then you can have the new life, you can do the things that you've never been able to do, and I'll come back to Bath. You can visit me whenever you like.”
“Mother won't let us do that. She won't just let us trade places,” Bella argued. “She never wants me to do anything on my own because she thinks it will hurt your feelings, and I can't marry and leave you in Mother's clutches. Lord knows what she’ll let Dr. Sandy do to you.”
“The contract must be fulfilled,” Carina said. “I’ll talk to her. If she won't see how beneficial it would be, then I will go straight to Lord Drummond. I can't even count on my courses. Some months they come, some months they don't. And I don't think I can bear a child even if I could conceive one. I wouldn't be able to fulfill the contract as producing an heir is part of it. I remember that. I blushed so fiercely when I read it. Father made sure I understood every aspect of it, but I had no idea what that meant at the time. I can barely understand now. I’m going to die a spinster, and I'm fine with that.”
“How could you have understood it? You were just a child at the time. Contracting children into marriage should be illegal. It's disgusting's and abusive.”
“I shall make it clear that you have to take my place,” Carina said. “If I emphasize I wouldn't be able to bear a child, Lord Drummond will listen.”
“And if they don’t, we’ll run away,” Bella said. “Whatever happens, you won't be marrying Sir Sebastian, even if I have to guard your chamber door with a pistol in hand.”
Carina giggled softly. “Let's hope it does not come to that, my brave warrior.”
Chapter 2
The Burrow, Estate of Baron Holden
Fox Glenn, England
December 8, 1818
“The prodigal son returns.”
“You still look like the boy I left behind. Do you shave yet?” Sebastian quipped.
Calvin chuckled, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Is your vision going already, old man? Are you thirty or sixty?”
Sebastian chuckled. “Are you referring to my age or the number of women I've bedded?”
“The former and if the latter is true, I forbid you to marry my sister. You’ll give her the pox.”
“I assure you I have no diseases and my list of lovers is not so long as that. But either way, I'm not going to tell you.” Because there wasn’t much to tell. Sebastian liked to play the rake, but in truth he preferred long arrangements with women he knew and trusted.
“I don't want to know,” Calvin said. “Only boys discuss their conquests. After all, you, my friend, will soon be married, yes?”
“I've been corresponding with your sister, as it happens.”
“Have you?”
“She seems…interesting.”
“Huh,” Calvin grunted. “What has she written? She hasn't much of a life in Bath, so perhaps she spins stories out of pure boredom.”
“She doesn't say anything outrageous as far as I can tell. It’s the way she writes things. She's very descriptive.”
Calvin cocked his head, his mop of b
rown wavy hair falling to the side, and narrowed his hazel eyes. “May I see one of her letters, or are they too…” He waggled his eyebrows.
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “If anything, they’re too intelligent for you. I might have to read the bigger words for you. As it happens, I have a letter here in my pocket. I received it when I met with our London estate manager.”
“Oh, so you you’ve been keeping them close to your heart? How sentimental of you,” Calvin teased.
Sebastian ignored the taunt. “This is only the third letter I received from her, but here, have a look.”
Calvin unfolded the letter and quickly scanned the words. “This doesn't sound like Carina,” he said. “This sounds more like Bella.
Sebastian frowned. “Isabella? Your younger sister?”
“Precisely. They’re like twins, really. Isabella's the more viable one.”
Sebastian stilled. “Did you just say viable?”
Calvin blinked. “Did I? How silly of me. A mere slip of the tongue. Vibrant is what I meant. Carina's far more elegant and biddable. She’ll be the perfect wife. Bella, on the other hand, if she were a man, she would've led the Waterloo Campaign and been victorious. I wonder why she's writing letters for Carina. My mother ought to know about it. She has to keep a tight leash on her.”
Sebastian took the letter back and stared at the elegant yet energetic script with new interest.
“Are you sure this is Miss Isabella's writing and not Miss Carina?”
“I’m certain of it. I know my sisters’ writing. It’s how we communicate, mostly. They don't have much by way of a social life.”
“Why is that?” Sebastian said.
Again, Calvin froze and blinked as if he'd been caught off guard by the question, and something in Sebastian, an instinct, pricked at him.
“Who knows? Carina is like you. She prefers time alone and close company. Perhaps Carina was too busy painting and dictated the letter to Bella, and Bella added her own embellishments? Actually, that's probably exactly it. They are close, so close they may as well have been born together. Twins don't run in our family, which I suppose is unfortunate since multiple children is what you'll be needing to revive your family line.” Calvin grimaced and tugged at his collar.
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