Sibella had barely been at Highhurst all week. Lionel had kept her away, something about various dinners and social events that he demanded she go to, only for him to show her off as his wife. Sibella would have much preferred being at Highhurst but she didn't dare neglect Lionel, not when she was spending so much time with Monty and Phoebe as of late. It had been deemed rather suspicious by Lionel and so Sibella had to make it up to him by accompanying him to these events.

She arrived at Highhurst late that evening, tired but still looking as glamorous as ever. A rose red gown hugged her slim body, a tiara in her golden curls, a lip stick stained smile greeted Phoebe. Monty was already asleep and she hadn't wanted to wake him, he would see Sibella in the morning.

Phoebe felt her heart jump as Sibella came into the parlor room and sat close to her. Their arrangement had only been sustained for three months so far, but during that time Phoebe had grown exceedingly fond of Sibella. So much so that their relationship had started off with blushing, light kisses to her lips in between the rose bushes and had accelerated to making love against her vanity within a few weeks time.

Phoebe had never fallen in love so fast and so quickly. She found herself head over heels for Sibella, and Sibella was much the same about Phoebe.

Although Phoebe hadn't admitted such a thing as of yet.

There was still… conflicts that needed to be resolved, still issues that needed to be dealt with.

And in the back of Phoebe's mind there was a nagging voice that told her that this would never work, that she would have done well to stay away from Sibella, ordered her out of the house and their lives and focused on her marriage.

Sibella was all kisses when she came into the parlor, brushing Phoebe's throat with her light peck, her lip stick staining Phoebe's pale skin red.

"I gather your week went alright," Phoebe said softly, setting down the book on the table.

"It was rather horrid, if I'm being honest. Lionel was so pushy, always wanting me to meet this ambassador and that business man. I confess I'm rather tired of the human race altogether."

Phoebe laughed slightly as Sibella pressed a kiss to her lips tenderly, and then wrapped her arms around her waist, settling her head on Phoebe's shoulder.

"How are you, my love?" Sibella inquired.

"Tired." Phoebe sighed.

"You seem preoccupied," Sibella remarked, looking up at her. The tiara bounced the light around from the room, making her look like a painting in that moment.

When she caught Sibella's eyes, she felt as though Sibella was staring straight into her soul. God, those eyes, Sibella's eyes could drown men and women alike in their deep gaze.

Phoebe blushed madly. Sibella brought a hand up and brushed it against Phoebe's cheek.

"What is it?" Sibella laughed.

"Love," Phoebe admitted after a moment, her eyes on her lap. She needed a new nightdress, this one,a light blue one that Henry had bought for her, had started to fray on the ends.

Sibella let out a breath, laughing just a bit.

"Ah, love. It is quite distracting, is it not? To whom is my dear, darling Phoebe in love with?" Sibella whispered at her ear.

Phoebe's fingers twitched.

"You."

Her reply was quiet. Soft. Nervous.

Sibella straightened upon hearing it, at once recognizing that Phoebe had not said the term confidently, loving. She had said it in fear, as if she was afraid of such a thing, and to be truthful Phoebe was. Their arrangement had been so new, so loving, so right… and yet in the back of her mind, Phoebe knew she could never compare with Monty, nor even with Lionel for that matter. Sibella would always gravitate towards her men, towards her lovers, even her horrid husband for the sake of her reputation.

Phoebe was just a play thing to her.

Or was she?

Phoebe thought back on the kisses between the rose bushes, Sibella's tender touches, Sibella's lazy smile at her as she woke up besides her in bed. Had that been all a facade? A game to her?

Phoebe wasn't sure, but what she was sure of was that she couldn't allow her heart to be broken, not again.

She had felt humiliated when Monty had admitted on the eve of his supposed execution that he was in love with Sibella. She had seen why when she met Mrs. Holland. Even when Monty had proposed the arrangement with the three of them, Phoebe had been hesitant.

And then Sibella had swept her off her feet, but Phoebe wondered how long such things would last. Sibella's interests seemed to change like the wind, Monty was a testament to that, as was Lionel.

Phoebe couldn't bear such a thing. At least with Monty, she knew that he cared for her, that he wouldn't cause her pain.

And then there was the matter of Sibella's husband. It was bad enough having to share Sibella with her husband, horrid enough to know that they shared their secrets together, that they had something she couldn't understand, but it was worse to know that there was also someone else. Someone else entirely who Sibella had married for looks and reputation, but someone who she still had to live with, and kiss, and make love to at times, though Phoebe knew she tried to avoid that at all costs.

Then there was Phoebe. How could she fit in?

Two was hard enough, but three people to love? It was insane, impossible.

The words flew out of her mouth before she had time to really formulate them, to craft them so that they wouldn't hurt Sibella's feelings.

"I can't fall in love with you, I don't want all of the pain that comes with it," Phoebe admitted.

Sibella's hand pulled away from her cheek. Her face grew terse. A flash of anger came over her features.

Phoebe's stomach churned. Her hands trembled.

"I see." Sibella's voice was hard and Phoebe flinched upon hearing it.

"Sibella I-"

"Am I so hard to love?" Sibella's glare cut like ice.

"No, no it's just… you have Lionel and Monty, you have a husband and a man on the side, I don't see where I fit in," Phoebe tried to explain, "I know if you had to choose you'd choose Monty over me every time, I'd be left out. I figured I should save myself the heartbreak and-"

"Do you think I care for Lionel that much? I despise the man, Phoebe! I love you and Monty equally! I have found solace within these walls and within your and Monty's love, and yet you think that I would willingly cause you pain by casting you aside! Do you really think so little of me, that I am so shallow?" Sibella's tone was hurt, frayed, and Phoebe realized that tears had bloomed in her eyes.

"No, no you're not shallow. I just thought… I mean, I'm not a man, Sibella. I can't give you children, or pleasure in the way Monty or Lionel can. At some point I figured you'd tire of me…"

Sibella's hand was suddenly under her chin.

"I will never tire of you, Phoebe D'ysquith."

Her gaze was fierce. Uncompromising. Truthful.

Phoebe shrunk.

"Don't you think Monty would interest you more?"

"Our relationship is different than what I have with Monty, but that doesn't make it any less real to me." Sibella murmured.

"Do you love me then? Truly?" Phoebe looked at her.

Sibella kissed her then, hard and passionate.

"Always, my sweet. Now get these silly notions out of your head."

Phoebe leaned against her, feeling infinitely better.

"I love you as well," she replied, wrapping her arms around her carefully. Sibella pressed a light kiss to her head.

Phoebe fell asleep in her arms, dreaming of more sweet instances in which she kissed Sibella in her garden, where it was just her and Sibella in the early morning light, sharing a few special moments together before the day actually started.