Chapter 12

A blanket of pristine snow draped the ancient forest floor and the towering trees above, wrapping Angelica entirely in white; the once vibrant undergrowth was now a monochromatic tapestry (save for the occasional evergreen that stood defiant against the icy chill). Golden light filtered through the canopy, bathing the world in warm hues that caught the ice crystals and set them sparkling as though Angelica had walked into a fairy realm.

The air was crisp and still, a hushed silence broken only by the occasional creak of a branch or the distant whistle of the redwings feasting on winter berries. But no matter how she tried to capture the peace the forest so often provided, Angelica found her thoughts churning with all that had happened and all that was yet to come.

Christmas Eve had finally arrived, and while families throughout the village eagerly awaited the Twelve Days of festive fun, Angelica prayed for the time to pass faster. If she could simply speed through the next fortnight, all would be well again, and things would quiet a little (or as much as they ever did). With Gael joining his brother at school this term, there would be one less student for her to oversee, which was a blessing even if she would miss the dear boy.

Quickly, she did the arithmetic and considered just how many years were left until she was finished with their education, though it was a useless endeavor. She’d done that very thing when Guinevere and Viviane were young—until Helen and Ophelia’s unexpected arrival in the family left her continuing her role as governess when the elder girls were making their first steps into society. And Angelica had done so again when those youngest sisters tried her patience—only to have Emily arrive with her four children. With the widow unable to provide for their education whilst maintaining an income, Angelica’s countdown had begun anew.

By the time Alegría was finished, someone else in the family would likely require Angelica’s skills, and though she appreciated the opportunity to be of use to her family, even the stoutest of hearts quivered from time to time when the days were long and the task unending.

“There you are!”

Guinevere’s voice cut through her musings, and Angelica’s pulse quickened—but no, her sister’s three children were still far too young for such things, and their father had enough income to provide for a proper education if Guinevere did not wish to play the role for her children. Those thoughts flashed through Angelica’s mind in one beat of her heart, and the next, she was able to form a smile as she greeted her sister.

Nose wrinkling, Guinevere glanced at the forest. “Why are you always tromping about in there? I swear you spend more time in the woods than any other place I can think of, and I do not understand your fascination with it.”

“I am not ‘always’ there,” replied Angelica as she nudged her sister down the path and away from the dreaded nature. Unable to explain the whole of her reasons to her sister, she offered the only one she wished to give: “But I enjoy the quiet.”

That earned her another wrinkle of Guinevere’s nose and a disbelieving look that reminded Angelica of the time little Guinevere had discovered that the stray cat would never enjoy wearing dresses or nappies. Shaking her head as though shaking away that incomprehensible statement, Guinevere took Angelica’s arm and leaned into her sister.

“I’ve wanted to speak with you,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking about my conduct at the party, and it has left me out of sorts.”

Angelica’s brows rose at that, but she didn’t know what to say, so she guided them along the path home as Guinevere sorted out her thoughts.

“I know I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be lured away from the party or to grant Mr. Strickland such liberties,” she whispered. “I don’t know how it happened. One moment we were speaking in the parlor, and then the next, we were hidden on the stairs. And when you caught us, I was embarrassed and flustered, and I know I was curt. I am sorry for that.”

Guinevere let out a heavy sigh, leaning into her sister, and Angelica felt as though she was being transported back in time to when they had often walked along thusly. With nine years’ difference in their ages, Angelica had never quite felt like a sister as much as an aunt or even a second mother; the younger girls had often come to her to unburden their little hearts, and Angelica’s own lightened at the tender reminder.

“I understand,” replied Angelica. “We all make mistakes, and the important thing is to learn from them.”

With a smile that was more bleak than joyous, Guinevere gazed out at the rolling hills as Haydon drew closer. “I fear the lesson I am learning is that one cannot turn back the clock.”

“We cannot undo our missteps, and I do not know if I would wish to if I could, for that is how we grow—”

“I don’t know how being trapped in a miserable marriage will lead to personal growth.”

Angelica jerked to a halt and faced her sister. “What do you mean? You adore Clarence. For goodness’ sake, you two fought through a world of troubles just to be together, and you’ve only been married three years.”

“His parents are dreadful!” she said with a scowl. “I am certain we would be deliriously happy if not for them and their meddling. They are bitter that Clarence refused to bow to their demands and married me, and they are poisoning him against me.”

Forcing her jaw shut, Angelica considered her words, but none of what she had to say would do an ounce of good for the situation. Clarence had courted her sister for more years than they’d been married, and in all that time, his parents hadn’t been circumspect in their dislike of Guinevere—yet from what Angelica had seen, the Cogswells had accepted defeat gracefully and embraced the fact that they couldn’t change their son’s decision once the vows were spoken.

“I know it must be very difficult,” replied Angelica, measuring each word with great care. “From all that you’ve said, the two of you have not had an easy time of it, but surely it cannot be as miserable as all that. You love each other.”

“It is impossible to be happy when the dreams I had for us are not coming to fruition,” said Guinevere with a heavy sigh. “Clarence is absent all the time, forever saying he must see to business as though being a greengrocer is so desperately important, and meanwhile, I am crushed into that tiny home with three small children all alone. Where are the picnics we used to have? Lazy afternoons with nothing better to do than spend it in each other’s company? Dancing into the wee hours?”

“He cannot provide you with a larger home if he doesn’t work.”

“Papa managed it just fine,” said Guinevere with a scowl.

“Papa managed it by being the favorite son. If Grandfather hadn’t left him that annuity to pay Stoneleigh’s rent then we would be in a far more cramped situation than you.”

But it was as though Angelica hadn’t spoken.

“I know I shouldn’t have allowed Mr. Strickland such liberties, but when I spend my days trapped in that poky little house with a husband who cares more for business than me, how am I supposed to guard my heart against a handsome young Lancelot who values my company?” she asked with wide and pleading eyes, as though expecting her sister to agree. “It isn’t as though we did anything terrible. It was just a little flirtation. A bit of courtly love, so to speak.”

“That justification did not work for your namesake, and it will not work for you,” said Angelica with a frown.

“You do not understand how impossible it is to be trapped in a situation from which you cannot escape!” cried Guinevere. “How hopeless one can feel when dreams sour!”

“I am four and thirty, unmarried, and serving as the governess to my sister’s children,” replied Angelica. “What about my life is the perfect joy you think it to be?”

“You have freedom,” she said with a sigh as the bend in the road brought Stoneleigh Cottage into sight.

The longing with which her sister spoke had Angelica scoffing, the ridiculousness of the situation requiring that response. Angelica couldn’t think of a single member of her family who hadn’t bemoaned her state, and they certainly hadn’t lauded the “freedom” then.

But brushing that aside, Angelica stared at her sister. “What does it mean to be free, Guinevere?”

“You can do whatever you wish. No restraints, no boundaries.”

Angelica huffed at that, her brows twisting together as she smiled wryly. “That is ridiculous. No one is that free, Guinevere. We have friendships and family, which both bless our lives and force responsibilities onto our shoulders, and you cannot treat them selfishly if you wish to keep them in your life. I am often called upon to sacrifice that which I want to do for the good of those I love—as we all are. Or do you think I chose to oversee my family’s education because I find it amusing? I assure you I would much rather sit alone and read than teach arithmetic. I didn’t care for it when I learned it, and I detest having to revisit those lessons, but I have a responsibility to their education.”

Though her brow furrowed at that, Guinevere didn’t argue, and Angelica continued.

“And even if I had no responsibilities to my family tying me to Northumberland, I have the bounds of my pocketbook to consider. If I were to go out into the world to find a position, I would be constrained by the demands of my employer, forever at their beck and call. Money is a demanding mistress that no one can escape.”

Drawing in a sharp breath, Angelica used it to calm her heart as she said, “No matter what the rest of our family believes or says, no one flits about life entirely free to do whatever she pleases.”

Guinevere’s shoulders fell, her expression crumpling. “But I hadn’t thought life could be so miserable.”

Pulling her to a stop, Angelica faced her sister. “Do not let your disappointments taint your happiness, dearest. My life is nothing like I wanted it to be, but I learned long ago that focusing on the things I dislike about my life only leads to more misery. Clarence loves you, and though you might be struggling at present, I know you love him, for you have told me so many times before, and your children are dear little things that you love so very much.”

Guinevere nodded, her brow creasing. “You are right, Angelica. You always are.”

Pulling her close, Angelica enveloped her sister in her arms. “I know things look bleak at present, but difficult times come to everyone, and those who are happiest are those who weather them. Hold firm and do not surrender, and you will come out the other side the better for it. I have seen it happen so many times in my life.”

Arms tightened around her, and when Guinevere pulled away, she brushed at her cheeks with a nod.

“Are you coming in for a visit?” asked Angelica, motioning to the cottage, and it was then that they heard Emily’s piano tripping along, the merry carol wafting on the air, causing Angelica’s stomach to sink to her toes as Guinevere’s expression fell.

“Lawks, how is it that I always forget about the caroling?” she asked.

“I do not know, for I never do,” replied Angelica in a monotone.

Shaking her head, Guinevere stepped away. “If I cross the threshold, Mama and Papa will convince me to join you tonight, and Clarence would never forgive me if I did so.”

Angelica raised a brow at that. “Say what you will about the difficulties at home, but your husband’s displeasure is a handy excuse to avoid unwanted family traditions, isn’t it?”

“This is the only thing upon which his family and I agree,” murmured Guinevere as she turned away with a wave.