Sibella looked radiant despite the whispers. She seemed so much brighter now that she was officially separated from her husband; so much lighter, and more at ease. And so much more herself, thought Monty as he gazed at her. The Earl and Countess had accompanied Mrs. Holland to the soiree, as she was now residing with them at Highhurst. They had decided that they would arrive together and then be apart as much as possible throughout the evening, hoping to minimize the gossip.
But the gossip was present nevertheless. Most of the room was welcoming and jovial, but there were times when they were aware of eyes on their backs, searching for any inclination that the rumors were true. They could tell that those gathered in corners whispered about the three of them, their new living arrangements, and about the impending divorce between Mr. and Mrs. Holland.
The three of them pretended not to notice, opting instead to enjoy their evening. But Sibella shone brightest of them all, in her glittering red gown. Monty looked over at her and found her to be chatting with a circle of society's elite, tossing her head in laughter, a glass of sparkling wine in her hand. She was truly beautiful. Her smiling were lips painted a deep red, and her figure had filled out again, bringing her back to a normal weight now that Lionel was not restricting her diet. Monty could not resist wandering over to join the circle she stood in; she was too stunning for him to stay away entirely.
He slipped seamlessly into the conversation, smiling and laughing with the rest of them. Until he glanced over at Sibella and saw that her smile had disappeared and her rosy cheeks were pale. She swayed slightly and reached out a hand to brace herself against the wall beside her. Monty followed her line of sight across the room, to the doorway. And there he found what had frightened her.
He felt his stomach drop, replaced with rage as his eyes fell on none other than Lionel Holland. He swaggered into the room, clearly stinking drunk. The wine glass fell from Sibella's hand, shattering against the floor, drawing the attention of those around them. Monty took his chance, ushering Sibella away with a hand on her back. He escorted her quickly out of the room and down the hall, shutting them in the darkened library. He lit the lamp on a side table, never taking his hand away from Sibella's waist, and swiftly placed her on the sofa, dark wood and deep mossy green cushions a contrast against her glittering red. He knelt in front of her and took her hands, frowning as he felt them trembling. In fact, he soon realised that it was her whole body that trembled, and her breathing was uneven. He looked up into her eyes and saw that they were wide, filled with both panic and tears.
A deep tremor ran through her as she began to shake. Her grip on his hands tightened and a slight whimper escaped her. Monty's brow creased in concern as he realised what was happening.
"Sibella? Sibella, no. Darling, no, none of that, it's alright now, I've got you," he murmured. She gasped for air, breath tearing into her lungs. Tipping forward, her forehead brushed the backs of Monty's hands covering hers. "Sibella," he repeated, freeing one of his hands from hers and placing it under her chin, tilting her head up to be level with his. "Look at me. Just breathe, okay?" She took another breath, a sharp inhale that sounded almost painful. "Yes. Good. Do you want me to hold you?"
She nodded vigorously, unable to speak, but that was all he needed.
He raised himself off of his knees and seated himself beside her on the sofa, still holding her hand. The other arm wrapped around her as he pulled her close, murmuring words of safety and comfort.
It took some time for the shaking to stop, and when she could breathe again, she leaned against his chest, trying to catch her breath. He pressed a kiss into her hair and continued to hold her as she began to cry.
