“I am so sorry, Charlotte. I know how much the instrument meant to you.” She touched my arm softly. I had cried out most of my tears in the night, but my eyes were still anything but dry.“It may not seem possible now, but all will be well in time. You will find happiness again.”
I glanced warily at her sincere expression. Her face was wrinkled in different places than Mama’s, though they seemed to be around the same age. Mama had deep wrinkles between her eyes from frowning. Mrs. Abbot had tiny wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and curved ones by her mouth from smiling and laughing. The difference was striking.
“How?” My voice was raspy and quiet.
“Make the choice. Choose to be happy through every circumstance, fortunate or not.”
A surge of vexation choked me. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”
Mrs. Abbot considered my words in silence for several seconds, and then she sighed. “It isn’t simple. But what you must do is find all the good, all the kindness within yourself and put it to use. Helping others find their happiness is the best path to finding your own.”
I squeezed my eyes shut with shame as I remembered that I had not been good to Mrs. Abbot. Being dishonest was not a kindness. She did not deserve to be deceived. “I must confess something,” I blurted.
She sat back, her hazel eyes wide in anticipation. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath. “I did not come here with my grandmother. In fact, I don’t even have any living grandmothers. It was all a lie.” I bit my lip, waiting for her reply.
She looked down with a small smile. “Clara has already informed me of that.”
My eyes widened. “When?”
“Just yesterday. She begged me not to tell you until you confessed it yourself. She knew you would.”
I barely managed to hide my surprise. I swallowed. “Did she…did she tell you why we came to Craster?”
Mrs. Abbot shook her head slowly. “That she did not. I do respect your privacy, Charlotte. I will not demand any information that you are not willing to give.”
My heart thudded as I realized that Iwantedto tell her. The weight of my secrets had become far too heavy. “Clara and I had agreed not to tell anyone the true reason we were sent here, so I came up with a story that seemed plausible. But I cannot continue to lie to you. You have been much too kind.” I paused. “But I must ask that you keep what I am about to tell you a secret between us. I trust you are not keen on town gossip.”
She watched my face closely and didn’t hesitate. “Of course. What you tell me in confidence will be safe, I assure you.”
“Thank you.” I breathed deeply, trying to decide if this was a wise idea. It was too late now. I had to tell her. Speaking far too quickly, I relayed to her every detail. Papa’s gambling, how Mama sent us here alone, and how she expected one of us to make a beneficial match to save the family from ruin. Mrs. Abbot listened in silence, and her focus didn’t stray for a moment.
When I finished talking, she gave me a soft smile—nothing disapproving and unkind. No disdain or anger. It surprised me.
“You should have told me before. I would have kept your secret safe.”
I breathed out slowly and looked away from her face. “You understand, do you not?”
Her hand rested on my arm, and a pained look twisted her features. “Personally, I would never ask so much of my daughters as your mother has asked of you. I do suspect she would advise you differently, but I must say this: Don’t do something you will regret. Don’t sacrifice your happiness by entering into a marriage where you will be alone in yourdiscontent for the rest of your life. Wealth and prestige are not everything.”
“But my mother demands it of me.” I looked down at my hand. “Although I cannot see how a man could overlook a flaw such as this.”
She smiled. “The right man will. He will see all the other things that outshine it.”
I wanted to voice my disagreement, but her words were so genuine I couldn’t do it. Even if I didn’t believe her. Tears wobbled on the edges of my eyes again. Mrs. Abbot pulled me close, gently moving my head to rest on her shoulder.
“All will be well. You will see.” She smoothed my hair away from my forehead.
My tears continued to flow, but she didn’t accuse me of being too emotional or weak. How did she accept me after all I had done and said? It was something I didn’t know how to understand. Mama would have complained of my face wrinkling her sleeve. But Mrs. Abbot never did.
Winter was coming, and the temperature was dropping consistently. I had been home for several hours before Clara came through the door with a basket of groceries. Her dark hair was swept over her eyes from the wind and the door slammed loudly behind her.
She set the basket down near the door and smiled, her cheeks flushed from cold. “Charlotte! How are you feeling?” She hung her cloak up in the small entryway and joined me on the ragged sofa.
I had finally left Clearfield House the day before, and I already missed the bright windows, the furnishings, servants,and food. Miss Bentford had been fretting over me, taking great care for my comfort—which was very kind, though I had begun to feel weary of her constant attention. Thankfully she had ventured into town, leaving me a few hours of peace that evening. I had been trying very hard not to complain, so I chose my words carefully. “I feel better. I’m not so tired as before, but the pain is still intense.” I noticed a spark of joy behind Clara’s gaze. “You look…happy.”
Her smile dropped in tiny increments. “I am sorry, I really shouldn’t be, what with your condition, but I just cannot help it. Today was wonderful. Sophia has such a natural talent for reading! We have only been helping her for three days and already she is much improved. And Lord Trowbridge joined us for my lesson on a proper tea.” Her grin returned to its full size.
