Page 5 of A Dreamy Match Made in Heaven
“Are you trying to cheer me up?” Sophia asked.
“Do you truly need to ask that question?” her friend laughed.
Sophia looked at Adrianna and finally agreed to join her. They walked around outside for a while, taking in the beauty of the countryside and walking amongst the flowers. It was another attempt at distraction that Sophia understood, but did not care for.
Everyone was constantly trying to take her mind off the matters that had occurred. But whether she thought about it indoors, inside her room, or here outside in the air, the pain remained present and rather unbearable.
With each and every embroidery that she put together, she felt like a fool. There was no sense in wasting time with silly designs or pointless threads.
As she practiced her piano skill, hopelessness would be heard through each and every note. The minor keys grew loathsome to her family. But there was not a happy tune she could play.
On the days in which her mother would send her outside to draw, Sophia would find herself able to only remain out of doors for a short period of time. After taking in the air and sketching briefly, she would return inside and make her way to her room where she would remain in a forlorn mood.
But the truly difficult days were the ones in which they would receive an invitation to this ball or that.
Sophia was agonised at having to refuse so many opportunities to socialise. She enjoyed the company of others generally. But these days, the humiliation was too great.
She simply was not secure enough, in herself or in the events that had occurred, to be present amongst so many people. She did not wish to be seen when she knew that gossip still surrounded her and that so many people were aware of her plight, her loss.
When Adrianna would mention this ball or that, Sophia would tell her that she was not in the mood to attend.
And with every invitation that she refused, the isolation grew worse.
Chapter 3
Relaxed in her room, trying to remain distracted, Sophia was surprised when a knock came at her door. She had not been expecting anyone, but perhaps she had dozed off again without realising it and was late for dinner.
“Come in,” she called, sitting up from the bed.
In walked Adrianna, with all of her pluck and spirit. With a grin on her face and strength in her step, she plopped herself on the bed and looked at Sophia.
“My dear Sophia, you are still wallowing. Have we not spoken about this? It has been two months. I know that love cannot be so easily gotten over, but you simply must try and make an effort to move forward. You cannot live in this sadness forever,” Adrianna scolded.
“Why ever not? How can it do any harm now?” Sophia asked.
Adrianna looked at her with a sense of anger, a sort of disdain.
“I simply no longer have the patience for this. I understand that you are upset. I would be as well. You have every right to be angry and sad and every other emotion that you are feeling, but I cannot possibly understand why you would refuse to move forward. Have you no desire to move on with your life?” she asked.
“Of course I do. But I cannot do it yet. You must give me time,” Sophia defended. It was irritating how often her friend and her mother, and even Miss Honeycutt, had all constantly come to her, pushing for Sophia to overcome everything that had happened. It was as though they believed she ought to simply forget and move on.
“I have given you more than enough time. And you had best listen to me. You do not need more time. What you need is to get yourself out of this bedroom. Not simply to craft doilies just to prove that you are able. Not to go for a walk that has no other purpose than to move your misery outside rather than remaining indoors,” Adrianna said.
“Then for what purpose?” Sophia asked, as if it were hopeless.
“For the purpose of being yourself again. Do you expect me to believe that this is the woman you ever wished to be? You must take control of your emotions,” she said.
“But I’m told that I am an emotional person. And if I am, then how can I change it?” Sophia asked, throwing it in Adrianna’s face.
“You become a strong person,” she retorted.
Sophia had always wished she could be strong, but that was never something she felt capable of. That was Adrianna’s skill, not her own. Strength was for brave women and for men.
Adrianna. Thomas. Her father. They were all strong. But she was not like them. She was defeated.
She was defeated by the Earl of Bastion. She had been defeated by Thomas. She was simply a woman who was growing accustomed to the rejection of men and having to accept that she did not deserve the affections of any whom she cared for.
“Do you wish to always live with such weakness?” Adrianna asked in a forceful way, making Sophia recognise the sadness of her own state.
