Then there was Charlotte.
Mydearest friend.
How could I call her that now? How had I ever called her that?
Her expression was reserved, perhaps a little shameful. But what emotions I saw in her, I knew she would never own up to. She had far too much pride. Silence weighed heavily in the open space until I finally unearthed my voice. “Why did you do that?” My voice shook. “Why?” I demanded.
Charlotte’s brow was marked with a rare crease. “You are a good rider.” She laughed lightly. “I knew you wouldn’t actually fall.”
“This is not amusing, Charlotte!”
Her cool expression snapped into a glare. “It wasn’t amusing when you threw your punch at my gown either!”
“Was this your revenge, then? We agreed not to allow Mr. Croft to come between us! We agreed that we would never try to see him again.” A lump formed in my throat, and I fisted my hands at my sides. “All you do is lie, and lie, and lie, and I can’t endure another second of it! Why did you plan to go riding with him in secret?”
Charlotte’s cheeks turned pink, but her posture remained rigid. Her eyes were much dryer now than they had been when she had faked her tears during our ride. “Surely you would have done the same thing,” she said in a dismissive tone.
“No! No, I would not have done the same thing!” I took three strides toward her, glaring through my tears. “I was invited to go riding, but I declined because I am not a horrible friend.Youare. Not only that, but you are a horrible person. You cannot allow me to have one good thing.” I shook my head. “You never have.”
Charlotte reared back in shock. “That isn’t true!Youhave all the good things! All of them!” Her nose twitched, and her eyes glistened. “I have nothing compared to you.”
“What?” A hard laugh escaped me. “What do I have that you don’t?”
Her eyes darkened, but she said nothing.
I paced in front of her. “All you want is money. A rich husband. A grand house. A title.” I listed off the items on my fingers. “You would sacrifice me, my reputation, and our friendship in order to obtain all of it.”
She scowled, her face growing redder by the second. “No. I would not.”
“You already have!” I exhaled through my nose, my nostrils flaring. “The worst part is that you won’t even confess to it. You won’t admit that you have done any wrong. You don’t even realize how horribly selfish you are!”
She lunged forward, shoving me back by the shoulders. “The only wrong I have done is come to Brighton with you.”
I stumbled back a step. “Then leave.”
“So you can have Mr. Croft to yourself?”
I sighed in frustration. “This isn’t about Mr. Croft! And he doesn’t want me. He said it himself.” My voice wavered. “So you can leave Brighton knowing that you accomplished your objective.”
Before Charlotte could reply, or Mama, or Edmund—I whirled toward the staircase and ran. I didn’t stop until I was behind my bedchamber door. I slammed it shut behind me and collapsed onto my bed face first. I wanted to scream into my pillow, but I cried instead.
Charlotte and I had never fought like this. I had never spoken so freely to anyone in my entire life. No matter how cold she appeared, she must have felt the impact of at least some of my words. I tried not to feel guilty, but my heart stung with a variety of pain—emotions that I couldn’t count or distinguish.
By the time my tears slowed, I was exhausted.
I didn’t know how much time had passed, but my throat was raw, and my head pounded. A knock sounded on my door, and I recognized the rhythm immediately as Mama’s.
“Come in,” I croaked.
The door eased open, and Mama crossed the room to my bedside. She sat on the edge of the blankets, arms outstretched. My guilt multiplied at the gentleness in her eyes, but I tried to ignore the feeling as I leaned into her arms. Mama had taught me to be kind and gentle, but today I hadn’t been. I should not have felt guilty for finally standing up for myself. I might have hurt Charlotte’s feelings, but there were moments that I wondered if she had feelings at all.
I pulled away from Mama’s arms with a shy glance. “Are you here to chide me?”
Mama smoothed my hair away from my face. “No.” The wrinkles on her forehead softened. “Edmund told me everything he knew. You felt betrayed. I do not fault you for how you reacted today.”
I sniffed, wiping the base of my nose. “Charlotte must hate me.”
“She could never hate you.” Mama shook her head. “She will forgive you much easier than you will forgive her. She needs you, but that doesn’t mean she deserves you right now. You are allowed to be angry. You are allowed to walk away.”
