Safe.
Happy.
Perhaps that was why I loved painting so much. I wanted to remember moments, scenes, people—forever.
The only sound in the room was my pen sliding across pages. Ben and I floating boats down the stream. Playing spillikins until our fingers ached. Playing duets on the pianoforte and violin. Time had changed us, but at the core, I was still that girl with long brown curls, and Ben was my fluffy-haired, big-toothed little brother. And now, thanks to Aunt Alice and my list, I would have these memories to share forever.
I had just closed my journal, when my door swung open and Mama came through with Molly on her heels.
“Dress quickly,” Mama said. “We shall dine at the Ollertons’ home this evening.”
“The Ollertons?” I stood from my chair.
“Benjamin has befriended their nephew, and Mrs. Ollerton wishes to encourage the connection. I wouldn’t have accepted on such short notice, but hearing her admit our Ben is such a good influence ...”
“On Mr. Winston?” He could not be in the same room as Ben after their fight. But Mama did not know about their secret duel, and clearly neither did Mrs. Ollerton. Could the boys be civil? I doubted anything but shreds were left of their friendship after yesterday.
“Yes. Apparently, not long after his brother died, Mr. Winston left University, fought with his father, and threw a terrible fit. He said he had no intention of taking over their estate in his brother’s stead and even threatened to see it go to ruin after his two younger sisters married. Can you imagine the shame?”
Charlie hadn’t told me about his sisters. Nor his ill intentions toward his family home. I could hardly believe Mama; her words did not sound like my friend at all. “But where did he go?”
Molly pulled out an evening gown and moved around me to untie my day dress.
Mama continued, “From what Mrs. Ollerton told me, he left, rented an apartment in London, and has spent most of his time doing heaven knows what. They gave him a year to come round, and when he did not, when he got into a terrible row with an earl, they cut him off altogether. Waited far too long in my opinion. Apparently, his mother hopes having nothing will teach him gratitude.”
Pieces that had not quite fit now fell into place. Grief over losing his brother must have truly driven Charlie mad. All his ugly bruises and cuts and faded scars from when we’d first met—had he felt that same paininside?
“I can hardly believe Mr. Winston to be such a selfish man. Our interactions have been pleasant,” I said as Molly helped me into my new dress.
“There is always more beyond what the eye can see,” Mama said. “Quickly now. We are waiting downstairs.”
Mama left, and Molly led me to a chair so she could arrange my hair. But my thoughts were hooked on these new revelations about Charlie. Thinking back over our conversations, I knew he’d not once lied to me about his past, nor that he’d made mistakes. He’d shared his struggles, his grief, even his fears. I may not know his family well enough for their perspective, but I knew Charles Winston.
He’d made mistakes, but he was a good man.
I descended the stairs to where Mama and Father stood by the entry. I had no more than turned before Benjamin was there, dressed and proper, with a bland expression more fit for card tables than dinner. His face was decidedly without bruises.
It was almost laughable, for had Charlie fought back, my brother would have been in a foul state. Ben avoided my gaze, but I latched onto his side as we followed our parents outside to the carriage.
“Where have you been?” I whispered, squeezing his arm.
“Out,” he muttered in a dark tone.
I tugged his arm back to slow his quick pace. Before we met the Ollertons, I wanted to understand what had happened after I left the grove. I needed to know what to expect. “Have you settled things?”
“Settled?” He scoffed. “Not until the man has left town.”
“Benjamin, you have misplaced your judgment.”
He frowned down at me. “He got what he deserved. And I won’t have you interacting with him alone ever again.”
“Then I suppose it’s lucky we won’t be alone.”
Mr. Derricks greeted us at Ivy Manor. This time he permitted me entrance, though still with a bit of hesitation that only I would notice.
Mrs. Ollerton hurried over as we walked in. She was dressed in red with lips to match and immediately embraced Mama. They began a hushed conversation about some woman who’d fallen over on the streets in town.
I curtseyed to Mrs. Ollerton and followed Mama, Father, and Ben into the drawing room. Liza was at the pianoforte, only briefly glancing up to smile as she continued to play. Father moved to the back of the room to converse with Mr. Ollerton.
