Wilhelmina and the twins excused themselves early, which was not much of a surprise given their younger age. They were, in fact, expected to retire early.
Soon, Marianne followed with her own polite excuses.
In the hallway outside the dining room, Wilhelmina stood fuming. Her shoulders were rigid, her hands clenched into fists by her sides.
“You should have just let me say everything I wanted to say,” she grumbled.
“I had to. You know why,” Marianne said placatingly.
“That woman—that hag—insulted us!”
“I know, Wilhelmina.”
“I could not even?—”
“I know, darling.”
Wilhelmina turned away, but not before Marianne saw her lower lip quiver.
Marianne touched her sister’s arm gently. “If you had continued, you would have given that woman the satisfaction to see you rattled. It was what she wanted, and it was apparent that she was trying to provoke you.”
“I didn’t even care about what she said about Mother. I wanted to defend you! I wanted to defend myself! Heavens, I feel utterly helpless, as though I could not even command my own limbs.”
“What do you think about the rest of us? Don’t you think we want to do the same thing? Put them in their place? We dream of it often. I know I do. However, we must pick our battles and keep our energy for what’s important.”
“It’s not fair, Marianne!”
“Who says it ever was?”
For a long moment, neither sister spoke. They could still hear the sounds of clinking silver and overjoyed laughter from within.
With a sigh, Wilhelmina straightened. “One day, I will be out of Grisham Manor. I will become a duchess, a countess, or something that will make them say yes to myeverywhim. Then, we will see who dares correct or insult me then,” she said with fervor.
“I believe you, dear sister,” Marianne said honestly.
If anyone could blaze a trail, it would be her sister.
“When that happens, nobody can speak ill of us ever again,” Wilhelmina vowed, her chin jutted defiantly.
“As it should be.”
Silence settled between them once more, but in that quiet, a thousand unspoken words passed between the sisters. Mariannefelt there should be no pity shared—only strength and unspoken admiration.
One day.
They all enjoyed that game of ‘one day’ as if it were something they could hold onto.
“You were brave,” Wilhelmina said, looking at her sister with wide eyes.
“So were you, darling.”
“I made a scene,” she mumbled, in a way that was close enough to an apology.
“You made a point. It was a fair point, too. Some of them recognized it, but most were cowards who were afraid to go against the current.”
Wilhelmina thanked her sister, and after a gentle hug, she went upstairs to her chambers.
For now, Wilhelmina could leave these people behind. For a little while.