Sibella let out a frustrated shriek as she entered her and Lionel's mansion after the disaster of a dinner at Highhurst castle.
She wrenched off her black lace gloves and threw them on the floor, not even caring that she was ruining them.
She then moved to the living room where she de-tangled her tiara from her golden curls, setting it down on the spare table. She called for a servant to bring her a glass of wine so she could drink her sorrows away.
Pouting most childishly, she sat in a huff on the couch, nursing her glass of wine as soon as the servant gave it to her.
Her thoughts dwelled on what happened tonight, sure some of it was on the shocking murder of Lord Aldalbert D'ysquith, but if Sibella was being truthful she was more concerned with the news of Monty marrying Phoebe. It was childish and most inappropriate of her to be more upset at the union of two people than at the death of another, but she couldn't help it. Her feelings at Monty's engagement overpowered her feelings on Lord Adalbert's death.
It would be an understatement to say that she had been shocked to hear that Monty was marrying that D'ysquith cousin of his. Sibella had been furious, humiliated at best.
Who was she to be upset at such news though?
She was nothing more than his mistress in society's eyes. But the blonde really did love Monty, more than she cared to admit, even to herself.
Sibella finished her wine and sat on the couch, trying hard not to cry at the thought of Monty marrying someone else, but she was too devoted to him not to care.
She adored him, loved him more than anyone. Seeing him be with someone else was like a knife in her heart. Regret seemed to stab her repeatedly then, whisper in her ear how she had lost her chance.
But she realized in that moment that that was how Monty had felt when she had gone off and married Lionel instead of him.
Lionel. Ha. Even the mention of his name in her thoughts caused her to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
How stupid, how stubborn she had been to have married such a dull man! Now she was stuck in this empty house with her empty-headed husband longing for a more exciting life with her childhood sweetheart.
She could imagine it now. Her at Highhurst by Monty's side. Countess Sibella of Highhurst. The fantasy brought a true and genuine smile to her face.
"Sibella?"
The imagined fantasies disappeared from her head as soon as she heard Lionel's voice.
The smile evaporated off her face as well, only to be replaced by an annoyed scowl.
"I didn't expect you to be home so early," she said in a brittle tone as she fixed the crimson bodice of her dress, glancing at the sequins on it, doing anything in order not to make eye contact with him.
"The meeting at New Market was fairly quick," explained her husband as he sat down in his usual armchair across from her. She stared at him for a minute. For a moment she pitied herself, as she looked at her pathetic excuse for a husband. Oh how she had gushed about his good looks earlier but now the blonde had realized that looks weren't everything. Lionel was handsome, with piercing eyes and a fit body, but those eyes could easily turn dull and that body could turn in a statue's; pretty to look at and gawk over but not much useful in other areas of a marriage.
"I heard that there was quite a commotion at Highhurst tonight," he prompted her, grabbing a glass of sherry from the cabinet.
"Oh." Sibella tilted her head, "Whom did you hear that from?"
"Some of the policemen on the street and on the train. They said that someone was murdered... is that true, Sibella?"
Sibella sighed heavily, dramatically.
"Oh, yes, that," she said unamused, "Yes, actually someone was murdered at Highhurst. The late earl, Lord Adalbert D'ysquith," she explained in a rather bored tone.
"You seem rather benevolent to the fact," pointed out Lionel.
Sibella sucked in a breath. She had to give it to Lionel, he may not be the most exciting person to be with on the planet but he was keenly observant... or maybe she was being a bit too obvious with her feelings. The alcohol surely didn't help.
"It was horrid, of course. But he was sort of mad, going off about whatever war he was in or whatever he was droning on about. It's sad obviously, but not something worth getting distraught over."
Lionel looked sympathetic, "I am sorry you had to witness such a thing. Do they know who or what killed him?"
The blonde shrugged, "I don't know," and she really didn't, Throughout the entire police investigation, her gaze had been focused on Monty not on what the policemen were saying to her. She had watched him most carefully, the way he held Phoebe in his arms when she got too upset over the whole ordeal, the way he comforted her. She yearned to be in Phoebe's place, to have such a man to call her own.
Instead she was stuck with Lionel. And stuck was the word she would use to describe her relationship. Trapped would be more sufficient.
"That man, Montague, was there right? The policemen were all talking about him on the train. They said that he's to become earl now that Lord Adalbert is dead," Lionel sipped on his drink nonchalantly.
Sibella swallowed slowly and clenched her hands into fists.
"How very lucky for Monty Navarro," she managed to get out in a choked voice. She felt like going back in time and accepting Monty's proposal right then and there. How stupid she was, to think that a man with a motorcar and good looks would make her happy when the man who had always made her laugh and smile had been a constant presence throughout her entire life.
"The policemen suspect that he did it, though if anyone asks I didn't hear it from them. They still need to review the evidence and all that. But they have a hunch that it was him... after all the D'ysquiths' have been dying off rather fast and it has been ever since Montague showed up," Lionel pointed out.
Sibella couldn't help but laugh at that statement.
"Monty!" she exclaimed in a surprised voice, "Capable of murder!? Monty isn't capable of killing a fly by himself! How could they ever suspect him capable of murdering eight people!"
Lionel just shrugged, "It's what they think, dearest."
Sibella scoffed and poured herself another glass of wine.
"Haven't you had enough for one night, dear?" which was Lionel's way of telling her to stop. He didn't have to say it, she knew what he meant.
He was always trying to control her, forming her into his perfect vision of what an English housewife should be. He never bought her chocolates like Monty had... speaking of which she hadn't had chocolates in ages. She told herself to remember to steal some at Monty's place the next time she went there.
But that was when she realized that she may never be invited back there. Monty was going to be married to Phoebe. Phoebe would be at Highhurst. There was no way that Monty could carry on his affair with Sibella if Phoebe was in the mansion with them.
With a heavy heart, she realized that tonight might have been the last time she would ever see Monty for a long period of time. And how spiteful she had been this evening! Correction: how spiteful she had been to Monty her entire life.
She set the wine glass down, not because of Lionel's instruction to do so but because of this sudden realization.
The blonde suddenly felt empty, hollow even.
"Monty is to be married to his distant cousin, Miss Phoebe D'ysquith," the words escaped her lips before her brain even registered that she was saying them, "They made the announcement this evening... before the murder."
Lionel looked up at her expectantly from the newspaper he had been reading in the meantime while she had sat there, musing in her thoughts.
"How very lovely for Monty Navarro. I'm sure they'll be quite happy together," he said at last, with a quizzical look towards his wife.
"Yes," whispered Sibella, "Yes, I'm sure they will be." She tried to keep her emotions hidden but apparently she failed to do so. Truth be told, she blamed the amount of wine she had for giving away her feelings.
"Why don't you get on to bed. You look tired, dearest," suggested Lionel without looking up from his newspaper.
Fighting back tears, Sibella got up from the couch without another word and retreated into their bedroom with just a swish of her dress.
The air was cold in the room, and Sibella crossed her arms to try and keep herself warm.
She stripped down into her corset and slip after realizing that it was rather exceedingly late and that she probably should at least try to rest. It was then that she noticed that the window was slightly ajar, giving an explanation as to why the room was so cold. She moved over to shut it when she bumped into something on the ground and nearly tripped.
She looked down.
It was a box of half-eaten chocolates, the box that she had specifically hidden away so that Lionel wouldn't have found out that she had been eating the desserts. She opened it gingerly, only to find a note in it written in Monty's handwriting.
To My Sibella, it read, whom I love to see in pink.
Tear pricked at her eyes, and Sibella felt herself fall into hysterics. Her chest heaved, and she felt as if she were struggling for breath. More accurately was that she was sobbing so hard, her lungs couldn't keep up with her gasps.
She pressed the box of chocolates to her chest and cried silently. She didn't cry just for herself, she cried for everything. All of the lost opportunities in the world... all of the untaken chances.
She pitied herself, and her existence. She could have be Mrs. Navarro... and instead she chose to be Mrs. Holland, the biggest mistake of her life.
She couldn't take it back, she couldn't divorce Lionel and beg Monty to marry her instead. She was stuck. She was stuck with being Lionel's wife, and when his back was turned, she was Monty's mistress, and now with Phoebe becoming his wife, she would be reduced to nothing. A mere presence in his life that he once enjoyed. But Monty was moving on to bigger and better things than her, and she could feel herself being left behind in his life.
In her misery, she half-hardheartedly ate one of the chocolates, savoring its sweet taste knowing that it would probably be the last time she ever tasted it.
She then put the box away, covered herself with the sheets, and spent the rest of her night silently crying herself to sleep.
Lionel didn't notice her tears at all, and if he did, he didn't acknowledge it.
Sibella knew that Monty would have, if it had been him curled up next to her in bed and not Lionel.
She cried even more at that, for she knew that now that Monty was to be married to Phoebe, her own fate was sealed as well.
But no one was crying "Poor Sibella,"...except herself.
I saw GGLAM on Broadway just last week and after finally having seen it, I wondered what Sibella would be thinking about after the dinner at Highhurst and came up with this. It came out a lot sadder than I thought.
Anyways, I'm hoping to write more GGLAM fanfiction in the future. Let me know what you guys think of this!
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