"No, thank you," Sibella said breezily as she waved away Phoebe's outstretched hand holding the plate of tea sandwiches.
"Have a scone, then," the countess offered.
"No, I'm quite alright," Sibella insisted.
"But darling," Phoebe pressed, "You didn't have any breakfast and you barely touched your food at luncheon."
"I'm simply not hungry," the blonde shrugged, sipping her tea delicately.
"Are you sure?" Monty questioned, joining the conversation.
"Quite certain."
The trio passed the remainder of their tea with an unusual amount of silence in between bursts of conversation, both Monty and Phoebe casting concerned glances at Sibella. It was not unusual for Sibella to turn down scones or desserts, but for her to refuse anything at all was out of character.
This was the first time that Sibella had been at Highhurst in several weeks. Lionel had regrettably been in town and had not permitted her to leave the Holland residence unaccompanied, and even then she was never allowed out for long.
Phoebe had noticed the change the moment Sibella had stepped through the door. Not only was the dress she had worn new, but the figure wrapped in the dress was not the same. The gown was fitted and pale pink, and Phoebe was able to see that the hips it hugged were not as perfectly curved as they had been. The waist that had always been narrow was now downright tiny, and she did not fill out the gown in the bust as she usually did. Her collarbones stood out sharply from her chest. Even her face appeared drawn, her cheekbones more pronounced. And through the powder and rouge Phoebe could tell that her complexion was paler. Even her wrists, thought the countess as Sibella extended her hands to her. The blonde's hands seemed little more than bone and veins, and they were cold as Phoebe held them in her own.
Monty noted the difference in her size as he embraced her. After kissing Phoebe, the blonde turned her attentions to Monty. Resting her hands on his chest, she tilted her head up to kiss him, and automatically his arms wrapped her in an embrace. But she felt different. Smaller. He held her closer to him as he wondered what might have happened- an illness, perhaps. Whatever the cause, it had done damage. With his thumbs on her sides, the fingers of his two hands touched each other on her back. Her waist had never been small enough for him to do that before.
She had gone to bed alone that first night, opting to sleep in the bedroom that was technically hers, though she was more often in Monty's room as that bed was large enough for the three of them.
"But darling," Phoebe had purred, stepping close to the blonde. "We've missed you."
"And I've missed you- believe me, Lionel pales in comparison with the both of you. But alas, I've a headache and really should just go to sleep tonight. Perhaps tomorrow." Phoebe had pouted, but she kissed the blonde goodnight and watched her disappear around the corner with a swish of skirts.
She turned to Monty, and as their eyes met it was clear that they held the same thought at the forefront of their minds. Sibella was too thin. Frighteningly so.
And now they sat at tea and Sibella would not eat, even after barely touching a thing on her plate at luncheon and refusing anything but coffee at breakfast.
"What do you say to a walk?" Phoebe asked aloud, breaking a stretch of silence. "It's such a lovely day out, and the gardens are blooming."
"I think that's an excellent idea, dear!" said Monty brightly.
"Yes!" Sibella agreed with a smile.
Phoebe set down her teacup and rose from her chair, beginning to walk away from the table, Monty beside her. But both of them turned back abruptly as they heard a sudden rattling of china. Sibella stood with one hand gripping the table, leaning towards it. She swayed slightly and Monty leapt forward to steady her with his hands on her waist.
"Sibella?" he spoke softly after a moment. The blonde took a deep breath.
"I'm fine, I just... stood up too quickly, that's all. I'm quite alright now." She stepped away from Monty, though he continued to watch her carefully. "Shall we to the gardens?" she asked as she smiled at Monty, stepping past him, and linked her arm with Phoebe's.
"Give us a push, Monty!" Sibella instructed as she sat on the swing next to Phoebe. Pressed close together, their skirts overlapped and a cascade of pink and blue fell almost to the grass. Monty obliged, pulling the swing back and pushing it forward, sending the women sailing over the lawn, patterned in various shades of green as sunlight fell through the leaves of the massive tree above them. He grinned as they laughed delightedly. Each time they swung back to him, he pushed them away again, their skirts flapping around their ankles. Only when laughter sounded like sobbing did he bring the swing to a halt.
Phoebe had already turned to Sibella in concern when Monty joined the women, kneeling in front of the blonde and placing his hands on her legs.
"Darling!" Phoebe exclaimed, alarmed. She brought her hand up to Sibella's cheek, brushing away tears with her thumb. "Whatever is the matter?"
"I-" stammered the blonde. "I'm just- just so glad I'm here with you." She placed a hand over Monty's and rested the other on Phoebe's waist as the brunette embraced her. "I've been stuck in that house for such a long time, it felt like an eternity. I hate it so and it was never-ending, I'm just so happy that it's over."
"Oh, my love," murmured Monty, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "Move over, then." He rose as the women slid down the bench, and with a fair amount of struggling and Sibella turning sideways, they managed to cram all three of them onto the swing. Nestled together, somewhat on top of each other, Monty and Phoebe comforted their lover. They stayed there on the swing until the sky began to change colours. At Sibella's request, they watched the skies turn to fire from the rose garden, only walking back to the house when fire had given way to deep blues and purples and Sibella began to shiver, despite a lingering warmth in the garden air.
Dinner was just ready when they returned indoors, and they sat down in the dining room, a smile on each of their faces. Throughout the meal, Phoebe kept an eye on Sibella's plate, making mental notes of what she did and did not eat. The blonde had not quite half of her soup, and no more than a bite or two of the fish. Instead she picked it apart with her fork, pushing bits of it around on the plate. She seemed to be in much better spirits, however, and for that Phoebe was grateful.
Following dinner, they moved to the adjacent sitting room, but soon gave up the false pretences and practically chased each other up to the master bedroom. Their hands joined, they stole kisses along the way, down hallways and around corners.
Upon reaching the bedroom, Monty kissed Sibella fiercely and began to undress her. With Phoebe's help, the pink gown was soon on the floor, and Sibella was unbuttoning the brunette's dress while Monty tugged at the laces of the blonde's corset. As she pushed Phoebe's gown from her shoulders and down to her waist Sibella shivered, feeling the first touch of Monty's mouth against her skin. Having tossed his jacket and waistcoat to the floor, he first removed Sibella's petticoat and then her chemise was drawn up over her head, joining the quickly growing pile of clothing on the carpet.
Sibella threw herself down on the bed, and as Monty paused to tug his shirt off, Phoebe took her opportunity, positioning herself on top of Sibella, a leg on either side of her. The blonde could not see in the darkness, but she felt Phoebe's mouth slide away from hers to press kisses to her neck and throat, which Sibella enjoyed immensely. Phoebe kissed across her breast, tongue flicking out to taste her skin, and she moved down further still.
But the brunette stopped abruptly as she felt the hard bone of individual ribs against her lips. She pulled back from Sibella, a hand replacing her mouth, fingers tracing the deep grooves between bones. "Oh, dear God," she gasped, shocked. Monty stopped unlacing her corset as he heard the tone of her words. "Oh, Sibella. What's happened to you?" Phoebe questioned quietly.
The blonde pushed Phoebe away from her. Moving up towards the headboard, she snatched a pillow off the bed, using it to cover herself. Neither woman realised that Monty had gotten off the bed until there was a sudden light as he lit the lamp on the bedside table. Now that she was illuminated by the lamplight, they could see just how thin Sibella really was. She looked very small sitting there curled into herself, hugging the pillow.
"Darling," Monty spoke softly. "May I have the pillow, please?" Slowly and reluctantly, Sibella handed over the pillow. As her body came uncovered, Phoebe gave a gasp and Monty grew very still. Instinctually, she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under their gaze, but Monty stepped forward and took her hands, pulling her gently up off the bed. Though she stood in front of them, she would not look either of them in the eye.
Bones. Phoebe's first thought was of the bones. They were everywhere, standing out from her skin. Cheekbones, collar bones, bones highlighting dark-shadowed dips between each rib, bones poking forward on her hips.
While Phoebe's gaze lingered on Sibella's ribs, Monty's eyes came to rest on her legs. Their curves were sharper, and they were narrower from her hips all the way down to her ankles. And though she stood with her feet together, her thighs did not touch.
"How long have you been skipping meals, like you did today?" Monty asked, his voice low.
"It started a few months ago," Sibella spoke in almost a whisper. "At first I just skipped breakfast, because it was easiest. Then I ate less overall at each of the following meals, and in the past few weeks Lionel was perfectly content to let me stop eating almost entirely." Phoebe began to cry quietly, the tears finally overpowering her determination to hold them back.
"Lionel. Of course," spat Monty.
"But it's not-" Sibella started, but Monty cut her off.
"Not what? Not serious? For Christ's sake, I've never seen so many of your bones! You swoon standing up from chairs, you're cold when the afternoon is still warm! If Lionel wants to fuck a skeleton, let him pay some back-alley prostitute, I will not have you starve yourself for his pleasure!" he nearly shouted, enraged.
"Oh, but Monty, it's not solely for his pleasure. It's for mine."
"What?" sniffed Phoebe, incredulous.
"I want to be perfect. I will be perfect. It's the only thing I'm in control of, the only thing I have power over. The papers say the ideal waist size is eighteen inches. I'm only at twenty two and a third, but with a new and stronger corset-"
"No." Monty cut her off. "No stronger corsets, no more skipping meals, no more starving yourself. It's not healthy."
"I don't particularly care whether or not it's healthy," retorted Sibella.
"You may not, but we do. We care about you so deeply, and I know I speak for both Phoebe and myself when I say that I can't stand to see you like this."
"We love you, darling," spoke Phoebe through her tears. "We love you too much to watch you waste away to nothing."
"I just want to be perfect and thin," Sibella breathed after a moment.
"Oh, my love," said Monty, placing a hand on her cheek. "You were perfect to begin with. You always have been."
"Promise you'll eat tomorrow," Phoebe demanded.
"I can't, I-"
"You can start small, just eating a little bit more at each meal. But please, dearest. If not for yourself, then for us," begged the brunette.
"Alright," Sibella agreed quietly after a brief pause.
"Thank you, my darling," said Phoebe, giving a tearful smile. "Thank you."
Monty kissed Sibella gently, his palm against her cheek. "Now," he murmured. "Come back to bed and I promise Phoebe and I will show you how perfect we think you are."
With a grateful smile, Sibella returned his kiss and allowed herself to be pulled back towards the bed.