Chapter Eight
Lamentably, the twogirls were rarely alone together from that moment on, for there were so many events to go to and people to call upon, and shopkeepers and tailors and florists and the like to see, that even though Charlotte’s presence was requested everywhere and Mrs. Harlowe seemed quite happy to comply, the two were never alone.
Lina wished, nearly every day, that she had managed to ask the one question that was burning on her mind since her arrival.
At long last, the two managed to get ahead when Mrs. Tilton stopped to introduce the family at the turn of a corner, where Charlotte grabbed her elbow and encouraged her to walk very quickly, so that they might gain a bit of space between themselves and the horde of angry sisters and fussy mothers.
“There,” Charlotte whispered. “When they turn the corner, they shall simply think that we have continued on our way, unaware that they have stopped following us. I have so many unfinished questions from the other day.” She laughed. “Dear me, they seem to have all flown out of my mind... oh, yes: howdidyou meet your Mr. Blackstone? He’s ever such a recluse. What is he like?”
“Oh, Charlotte,” Lina said, gripping her arm fiercely. Tears, unexpectedly, welled up in her eyes. “If only I knew! But I know nothing of Mr. Blackstone, nor why he... it was all so unexpected and... and... I haven’t evenseenhim.”
Charlotte stopped dead in her tracks, concern on her face. “You mean to say that you haven’tmethim?”
She looked, for the first time, utterly horrified. Her mouth was slack, and she had gone quite pale.
“I thought,” she said quietly, to Lina’s disbelieving silence, “I mean, I had assumed that because you seemed so... so, calm... that the rumors were all false, as they almost always are, and that you had... you had...” her voice trailed off.
“What?” Lina said desperately, just as they heard Mrs. Tilton’s high-pitched voice call out to them. “I beg of you, Charlotte, tell me what you mean.”
Charlotte gave a furtive glance back at Mrs. Tilton, and clutched Lina’s arm tightly. It was too late for the girls to pretend that they had not seen Mrs. Tilton bustling along the sidewalk toward them, and both girls wished to avoid her sharp tongue and torment.
“I shall speak to you as soon as it is possible, I promise,” Charlotte whispered. “But it must be... a very private conversation.”
Lina nodded, and though she wished desperately to hear what Charlotte had to say that instant, turned bravely toward Mrs. Tilton and the other girls, with the same bright, false smile as Charlotte.
“My apologies, Mother!” Charlotte said. “We were so caught up in our discussions about the historical landmarks at the park... for Caroline is ever so interested... that we did not realize we had left you behind.”
“It is most,” Mrs. Tilton huffed, dotting at her sweating brow, “Unseemly!”
“Of course, Mother,” Charlotte said sweetly, though Mrs. Tilton never specified what, precisely, was so unseemly.
“I feel I am about to faint,” Evangeline complained. “It is ever so hot, and almost noon.”
Mrs. Tilton looked approvingly upon Evangeline, while Lina and Charlotte laughed quietly, without smiling, but linked together by the arms, so that each of them could feel the bubbling laughter trapped in their bodies.
Mrs. Tilton called for a carriage, and they were all sent home immediately.
* * *
The opportunity tospeak to Charlotte alone did not come for several days, for it seemed to Lina that Mrs. Tilton reckoned with Charlotte’s plan to divulge a secret to Lina, and accordingly, glued her hawk-like eyes upon the two girls wherever they traveled. In both subtle and not-so-subtle ways, she inserted herself into every plan, conversation, and stroll, or sat herself between the two girls at any dinner or tea they attended, so that they never had a chance to speak.
But just as Lina was beginning to despair, she was surprised by Charlotte’s resourcefulness when she slipped a piece of paper into her hand at dinner, which read simply:
Tell them you wish to retire early and I shall meet you.
