Clara nodded, smiling gratefully.
“Thank you,” she said.
Hannah sashayed from the room, and Mary patted the seat beside her. Clara took it, collapsing as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Clara looked up, her eyes misty.
“Father gave me some news a couple of days ago,” she said. “And I do not feel that it will ever be good news.”
Mary frowned, reaching out and taking her hand.
“What is it?” she asked.
Clara chewed her lip. Even though she had just spoken about it with Barbara, she still struggled to find the words. Eventually, however, she took a deep breath, feeling a heavy weight on her chest.
“Father has promised my hand in marriage to Julian,” she said.
Mary gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand. She stared at Clara with wide eyes, squeezing her hand gently.
“Oh, my,” she said. “This is very sudden. And you are unhappy about the decision.”
Clara nodded.
“I don’t even feel at home in my own family’s home anymore,” she said. “I feel like a prisoner, robbed of my ability to decide what happens with my life. I feel like I’m constantly suffocating there. It is terribly oppressive.”
Mary patted Clara’s hand reassuringly.
“Oh, dear Clara,” she said. “I know that must have been jolting news. But perhaps, there is some hope to be found. You will have a husband, after all. Surely, that cannot be all bad. Perhaps, you can find hope within that idea.”
Clara sighed for what felt like the thousandth time since speaking with her father.
“I try to remain optimistic,” she said. “But no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I can think of nothing but this betrothal.”
Mary squeezed her hand again, giving her a sad look.
“Do you and Julian not get along, now that you’ve grown up?” she asked.
A knot tightened in Clara’s throat.
“It’s not that I dislike Julian,” she began slowly, choosing her words with care. “It’s just that everything feels so decided, so final. And I know that I do not love him, nor does he love me. We hardly even know each other anymore. But moreover, my marriage to him means that I must give up on my desire to marry for love.”
Mary squeezed her friend’s hand, understanding mirrored in her eyes.
“Sometimes, change casts a shadow over what we know and love,” she said. “But remember, amidst all this change, some things remain constant. Our friendship, for example.”
Hannah, overhearing their conversation as she reentered carrying a tray of Christmastide treats and tea, gave Clara a fond smile.
“Time has a way of mending all things,” she said. “What feels unbearable today might just be a guiding light tomorrow.”
Mary nodded in agreement with her mother.
“Marriage is like a dance, my dear,” she said. “Initially, the steps may be unfamiliar, even clumsy. But with patience and understanding, two people can learn to move in harmony.”
Clara looked at her friend, feeling overwhelmed in her worry and sadness.
“It’s not just the dance I’m afraid of,” Clara whispered, tears threatening to spill, “It’s the music itself.”
Hannah poured Clara a hot cup of tea, placing it gently in her cold hands.
