“Before we scarper off and give you two the reunion you’re clearly so desperate for...” Amalie says.
“Right,” Catherine says, cheeks pink. “Well. Henrietta, MissTeit, and I were talking, and we think the best thing would be to just... force our mothers to talk. We just need to figure out how.”
“We could forge letters?” Amalie suggests.
“I can do a decent version of Lady Tisend’s penmanship,” MissWrigsby says.
“Oh, I can do Mrs.Pine’s. That could be fun!” MissTeit says.
“Suppose one of them won’t open the letter?” Christopher asks.
“We could force them?” Rosalie wonders. Could she, really? Force Mother into opening a letter from Mrs.Pine? Maybe Aunt Genevieve could?
“It seems much more expedient to trap them in the water closet at the Upper Rooms, doesn’t it?”
They all turn to look at Henrietta, who stares back innocently.
“I beg your pardon?” Amalie says for the group.
“You trap them in the water closet,” Henrietta says. “Catherine got stuck in there at the start of the season. Shouldn’t be too difficult to replicate. And then there’s little margin for error. As long as you think they’ll talk once they’re in there.”
That’s painfully brilliant. So simple. So achievable.
“Trap them in there together, force Mother to explain the whole sordid affair, and get Mrs.Pine to call off the proposal. Ten, twenty minutes,” Christopher says.
“More difficult to orchestrate during the tea, but I don’t think we’ll get another opportunity,” Amalie agrees.
But Rosalie’s staring at Catherine, who’s still looking at Christopher, her mouth slightly open.
“Catherine?” Rosalie prompts.
“Do—did your mother give you a reason?” Catherine asks, ripping her eyes away to meet Rosalie’s. “Did she explain?”
Rosalie glances at Christopher, who nods encouragingly. Mother listened to Rosalie’s father all those years ago—chose to believe him, and not trust her best friend. But Rosalie can trust Catherine. Can trust Henrietta, and Amalie, and their lady’s maids. All these people who have rallied around them.
If she can’t trust them, if she chooses to follow her mother’s path, she’ll only end up alone. She’s choosing a better future this time.
“Captain Daniels took advantage of Aunt Genevieve early in the season your mother and mine met him,” Rosalie says softly. Even so, it feels like the words land with an explosion. Catherine, Henrietta, and Miss Teit gasp. “Father made my mother promise not to tell yours, to maintain Aunt Genevieve’s reputation, but Mother didn’t want to risk your mother endingup the same way. So, she spread the rumor, and my father got yours to propose.”
She watches as Catherine stands there, taking it in. Henrietta sniffles beside her, and MissTeit hands her a handkerchief. Catherine meets Rosalie’s eyes, tears brimming. Rosalie wants so much to step forward and wrap her arms around Catherine, to apologize for the hurt done to her mother, and the hurt passed down to Catherine that’s left them both in this mess together. But she can’t find the words, can’t move her feet.
What if Catherine never wants to see her again? What if the slight is too great? What if what her mother did is truly unforgivable?
“We owe your family an enormous apology,” Christopher says, stepping up beside Rosalie, Amalie in tow. “And I know it cannot undo the damage done, but I will do whatever I can to help you and Rosalie build the life you want.”
“Even if it starts with locking you in a water closet with your mothers,” Amalie adds.
Her words seem to break the hush that’s fallen over the clearing and everyone lets out a startled laugh. Catherine meets Rosalie’s eyes again. There’s so much she wants to say, so much she doesn’t really know how to articulate...
“Mr.Tisend, weren’t you going to show MissRaught how to identify edible berries?” MissTeit asks.
Rosalie feels more than sees Henrietta, Amalie, Christopher, MissTeit, and MissWrigsby exchanging looks. But she and Catherine are still staring at each other, trapped in their mothers’ hurt, hoping to escape together.
“You know, I was!” Christopher says, a little overloud. “Follow me, ladies.”
“I’d think it might take us about fifteen minutes to find berries, wouldn’t you say, Miss Wrigsby?” Amalie adds.
“Perhaps even twenty,” MissWrigsby agrees, taking Amalie’s other arm to follow MissTeit and Henrietta out of the clearing.
