“Why didn’t you just tell her?” Rosalie implores. “What if Mr. Pine hadn’t proposed? You could have ruined her life, her family’s life.”
“I saved her,” Mother says, her voice tight.
“Seems she doesn’t see it that way,” Christopher says archly.
“Yes, well, her finding out it was me was an unfortunate consequence,” Mother says stiffly.
“You couldn’t have written? You couldn’t have explained? She was yourfriend,” Rosalie says, her chest tight and painful.
Mother is conniving and manipulative, but Rosalie never thought she’d go so far as to ruin a woman, for herown goodor not.
“It was for the best.”
Rosalie looks over at her father, who’s now sitting straight in his chair. “Father, it—”
“Is in the past, and there will be no more said about it. Perhaps Christopher courting the daughter will thaw any remaining ill will.”
“After all these years, doesn’t she deserve to—”
“No,” her parents bark together.
Rosalie and Christopher jump. They never raise their voices.
“You’ll not speak to anyone about this,” Father says firmly.
“But—”
“Do not ever discuss this with anyone,” Father repeats, looking Rosalie dead in the eye.
Rosalie can do nothing more than nod. She doesn’t want to say she’s frightened of the look he gives her, but it’s a close thing. She’s rarely ever seen him so serious.
There’s something missing from the story. There has to be. Something that would make her mother ruin her best friend instead of explaining why she couldn’t marry a man. What did the Navy captain do that was so horrible it couldn’t be spoken about?
Or worse, what did her parents do? And what now about MissPine?
Rosalie’s been party to another scheme of Mother’s—another planned arrangement—deciding for another Pine woman whom she should marry. Because she and her mother knowbest, don’t they? Is Rosalie really going to participate in repeating this cycle? Manipulate MissPine until she does what Rosalie wants?
She needs to get a letter to MissPine. Invite her on an outing with Christopher, so they can talk. So they can figure out how to right the wrong that was done to Mrs.Pine.
But once Father has excused them from dinner, Mother grabs Rosalie before she can get even halfway up the stairs.
“You cannot tell her.” Her grip on Rosalie’s wrist is firm, anchoring her there on the stairs. “Mrs.Pine can never know. No one can ever know.”
“What could possibly be so secret twenty-five years later?” Rosalie implores, tugging at her mother’s grip. But Mother won’t let go.
“It would damage our family. Invite questions into our reputation we do not need. Possibly even ruin your chances with Mr.Dean,” Mother says, her voice quiet but sharp.
The hair on the back of Rosalie’s neck stands up. “Mother, did he—did that man hurt you?” Rosalie whispers.
“No,” Mother says, her eyes widening. Her grip on Rosalie’s wrist slackens. “No. No. It’s not that.”
“But it’s still damaging to the family,” Rosalie confirms.
“Yes. Promise me you won’t tell MissPine.”
Even with the threat of familial ruin, this is still so wrong.
“If we don’t tell Mrs.Pine, she’ll keep pushing MissPine on Mr.Dean, trying to get back at you,” Rosalie tries.
