Windsor’s gaze slowly lowered. Only then did he notice that she was clutching a crumpled letter. Her pale hand was trembling violently.
His eyes rose again. They met hers.
Her shaking gaze looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
No—transparent tears had already begun to swell in her eyes.
And yet, she did not cry.
She lifted her chin, tightening her jaw as she forced herself to endure.
“……”
A sudden thought struck him.
Perhaps she had endured all those countless moments when she was called the “poor young lady” like this—alone.
Like a tightly drawn bowstring, on the verge of snapping.
A woman of marriageable age, just out of boarding school and having debuted in society, had to bear that burden alone.
She had cleared her father’s business debts and supported her mother, who suffered from nervous exhaustion. She ignored the attention of high society…
This chapter is locked
Unlock it for 12 Novaras. Sign in or create a free account to keep reading.
Emilybronte
Comments
Sign in to comment