In Paris, she had known women who lived together as though they were man and wife. She wondered if Willa and Miss Fairfax…She shook her head. She presumed too much, undoubtedly.
Willa rushed back into the room. “It has begun to snow quite ferociously. We should be leaving or else I am unsure how we will get back.”
Olivia glanced towards the thin windows and noticed that, indeed, the flurries had been replaced by a storm of white.
“You must come back, Miss Watson,” said Miss Fairfax, “You are welcome with Willa or without her any time.”
Olivia’s throat constricted at the invitation. She had never thought she would want to regularly return to the orphanage—a lone visit to see the place once more was all that she had ever contemplated. But now, oddly, it seemed appealing. Unable to speak, she nodded at Miss Fairfax, who had just seen Willa gesture to her from the corner. She bowed and followed the call. When Miss Fairfax reached her, Olivia watched the two women speak to each other in hurried, lowered tones.
“Would you want to return? Here?”
She turned. Augustus had made his way to her side. His voice was quiet but clear, even in the din created by so many children’s voices.
“Yes, very much. But you weren’t honest with me, before. You said you had never been here. Miss Fairfax says you have visited many times.”
Augustus dropped her gaze and coughed. “I do not know why I said that. It was foolish. Miss Fairfax is right—I have been here before.”
“Why would you hide it? Surely, you do not think that I, of all people, could think less of you.”
“It is not that, exactly. It is just not—men don’t usually do such things. Men of my station, least of all. I was not sure how to explain.”
He paused.
“And that is not all. When Willa started coming here and she told me the name, I realized that it was the same orphanage where you had grown up. The first time I came, I told myself that I did not do so for you. But because I wanted to be a better person, less of an aristocratic wastrel.”
He smiled, that roguish dimple flashing in his cheek. He looked embarrassed and, yet, somehow, smug, too.
“I think I had almost convinced myself that it was true. But today, when you asked me if I had ever been here before, I realized that, of course, it was a lie. I came here because I wanted to feel closer to you. It felt like too much to confess.”
The air between them was heavy with so many things. Happiness, yes, and desire. But also something deeper. In this moment, standing here with him, a future with him felt more possible than it ever had. She could imagine them coming to this place together, working to make it better, working to improve the lives of the children that depended on it—maybe, even, coming here one day with children of their own. Their children could grow to understand that family had many meanings and that kinship and solidarity did not end at the walls of their Mayfair townhouse. That this place had shaped their mother and was as much theirs, as much a part of their history, as the bulky portraits and mansions and wealth of the Carrington name.
She felt an urge to kiss him. She was only able to temper the impulse when she considered their surroundings.
To stem such thoughts, she turned away from him slightly and let her gaze drift back to Willa and Miss Fairfax.
“Ah,” Augustus said next to her, “So you have noticed.”
“What do you mean?”
“That my sister is in love with Miss Fairfax.”
Ah, she thought. She hadnotassumed too much, it appeared.
“Does Miss Fairfax return her sentiments?”
“That I cannot say. And I have not yet found the right time to ask my sister about it.”
“Miss Fairfax fairly glows when she talks about Willa.”
“It’s true. I hope it indicates more feeling than friendship. I couldn’t bear for Willa to be disappointed.”
They stood there, for a moment, contemplating the two women. The way their bodies curved towards one another, their eager smiles—Olivia felt sure that more had to exist between them. She couldn’t discern, however, whether they were already lovers or had not yet revealed their mutual passion.
Olivia watched as Willa clasped her friend’s hand in parting and then she gestured towards herself and Augustus. It was time to leave. They followed her to the door.
In the street, the snow was already falling thickly, clouding their vision. Augustus offered an arm to both herself and Willa and they walked as quickly as they could through the streets back to Carrington Place. They didn’t speak to one another except to exclaim at the snow. They had to focus on the path ahead and be careful not to collide with the many rushing passerby bent on their own blurry paths through the cold.
Finally, shivering, they reached Carrington Place once more, where they swept inside. There, they were greeted by Mrs. Phelps, thirteen years older than Olivia remembered her, but just as plump and kindly. When the older woman saw her, she exclaimed, “Miss Watson! They said you were here, but I could hardly believe it.”
