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She had been certain that he was going to propose. So certain that she had begun to think about what her wedding dress would look like and what kind of flowers she wanted in her bouquet. Everyone in her family had seemed so sure. Especially Mrs. Hallward, who assured Sibella that it was only a matter of time before she would have a ring on her finger. How wrong they all were.
When she thought about him, every detail had become repulsive. She was disgusted with herself too. How could she have let herself get so swept away? Dazzled by his straight white teeth, and his fancy motorcar, and the expensive pomade he used in his hair. She resented his lack of propriety. Men can’t be clueless to how it looks to call on a girl as much as he did. One cannot help but extrapolate his intentions.
The worst part of it all, was that in her undeniable faith that Lionel Holland would propose, she had pushed Monty away, further than ever. Now with his success and his rise in the D’Ysquith line of succession, she was certain that she had missed her chance. He wouldn’t want her now that he knew how shallow she truly was. If she tried to win him back, it would look like she was only doing it for his new wealth and position. She wasn’t even sure of her true motivations herself.
She had been so certain of Monty’s love for her that she had taken it for granted. Everything felt so familiar and easy with him; she had never doubted his feelings. But when the time came, and he finally proposed, after years and years of loving her quietly, secretly, but ever so earnestly, the thought of marrying down and all that came with it— judgement, sacrifice, scandal— made it impossible to say yes.
Sibella knew that Monty was jealous of Lionel, and now she knew he had no reason to be. Regardless that he was now of a higher social standing, Monty was a good man. Lionel was a cad, and now she knew that even if he had proposed, there was no chance that she would be happy with him.
Monty hadn’t visited in weeks. It seemed that not even their friendship could survive a betrayal of this scale. She didn’t blame him at all. It was her own fault for driving him away. Who could love someone who discarded them as flippantly as an old newspaper? Not only had she lost the first and only boy she had ever truly loved, she had lost her closest and dearest friend. If she hadn’t been so certain of Monty’s feelings, and so certain of Lionel’s intention to propose, perhaps she would be wearing a ring.
What was he thinking? It was impossible. Why would she want to lower herself to his inferior position, only for the distant hope of him becoming an earl one day? He remembered her laugh so clearly when he told her of his connection to the D’Ysquiths. Eight people would have to die for that to happen, how likely is that? She was right, of course, and he was deluding himself by overestimating his chances.
A girl as beautiful as Sibella, as charming, and witty, and smart, would have no trouble at all finding a respectable husband. Even though Monty knew how easy it was to love her, he couldn’t help but feel that no one else could love her like he could. Nothing was ever dull with Sibella; he felt as though every time he saw her, every time she laughed at one of his jokes or smiled giddily as she showed off a new dress, he fell in love with her all over again.
He was twelve when he told her he loved her for the first time, but in his heart he was certain that he had fallen for her the moment they first met. She sat in front of him in class, and he was immediately transfixed by how punctilious she was. There was never a speck of dirt on her frock, nor a scuff on her shoes. He had seen her rewrite a paper five times over the minutest of errors. Her posture was always immaculate, and she kept her desk extremely neat. He noticed how she always put things back in the same place.
At seven, Monty was fairly shy, and he had spent weeks admiring her from afar and looking at the back of her head during class before he worked up the courage to talk to her. One day, after school was let out and everyone had begun to make their way home, Sibella had tripped and fallen into a puddle. Immediately he rushed over to help, but before he could find the words to say anything, he noticed her expression. Although her eyes were filled with tears, she didn’t look sad, more like frustrated.
The first thing he ever said to her was that his mother was a laundress and she could fix her dress, no matter how much she insisted that it was ruined. Sibella sniffed as he helped her up, but a small smile appeared on her face, and she agreed to let him walk her home and give him the frock once she had changed into something else. When they had reached her house, she discovered that she had skinned her knee in the fall. Monty dabbed away the blood with his handkerchief, and offered to kiss it better. She told him it worked. After that, they were fast friends, and the next day he returned the dress to her with no stain in sight.
In hindsight, he probably could have picked a better moment to propose. Perhaps he could have put together some sort of grand gesture, something really romantic. But the desire to marry her had been growing in his heart for so long that he couldn’t help the words from tumbling out. Of course he hoped with everything he had that she would say yes, but when she didn’t, it wasn’t so much of a shock. They were from two different worlds; the kind of scenario that only ends happily in a fairytale. Of course she said no. It was impossible.
Sibella’s parents were throwing a soiree for a handful of her father’s colleagues. They had allowed Sibella and Graham to each invite a friend to come, but Sibella declined; who would she invite anyway? She sat in the parlour in her party dress, feeling lacklustre more than anything. Halfheartedly she made polite conversation with their guests, but all she really wanted to do was retreat to her room to be by herself.
The doorbell rang, and Graham left the room to welcome whoever had arrived. Monty was the last person she expected to see walk through the door with Graham, and she wasn’t quite sure how to feel. They met eyes from across the room, and for the first time since she had met him, she found his expression completely unreadable. Graham gestured for her, and Sibella crossed the room to the door, where he led the two of them to a quiet place to talk. The room in question just happened to be the old nursery, which made her feel terribly nostalgic. Graham left them alone, and promised not to tell anyone that they were unchaperoned.
“Graham invited you?” said Sibella as the door closed. It was all she could think of to say.
Monty’s lip quirked and he nodded. “Yes.”
The two were standing at an awkward distance, but neither had the courage to move any closer. “I didn’t think you’d want to—”
“I almost didn’t come,” he confessed, starting to wring his hands nervously. “I didn’t know if you would want me here.”
“I…” Sibella was at a loss for words. Nothing felt right to say. She couldn’t possibly try to explain herself, or try to beg for his forgiveness for her foolishness.
A beat. “You’re not engaged,” he said.
“No.” She wanted to burst into tears at that moment. All the regret that she had bottled up was threatening to rise to the surface. He looked at her again with that same undefinable look.
“Are you and Lionel still…”
“No,” she repeated, quieter than before. It was becoming harder and harder to look him in the eye. His lip quirked again. She wondered what it meant.
“When we last saw each other, and I…” He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘proposed’. His next words were a question he had been wanting to ask her for quite a long time. “Did no mean never?”
A tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I was horrible, and shallow, and—”
“Sibella.” She hadn’t even noticed that he had moved closer until his fingertips brushed hers. “If you weren’t certain, if you didn’t want to, I—”
“Then I did not know,” she mumbled. Their fingers were still just barely touching.
Monty swallowed. “And now?” he asked.
Her brows furrowed and she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I would hate for you to think that now just because you’ve risen in society I—”
“You’re not like that.”
“Yes, I am.” She couldn’t stand to look at him a moment longer, and retreated to the settee as a few more tears fell.
Monty followed and sat down beside her, putting his hand on top of hers. “I love you.” She turned her head to look at him, tears in her eyes. She almost looked surprised. “I never stopped.” He lifted her hand and held it in his own. A grateful smile was starting to form on her lips. “So, will you?
He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and retrieved a ring; three garnets, with little diamonds in between them, set into a gold band. All she could manage was a vigorous nod, and she pulled him into a desperate kiss. She was still speechless as he slid the ring onto her finger. No words could describe how happy she was in that moment.
When they returned downstairs to the parlour, to tell everyone the good news, Sibella had never felt more radiant in her life.