But in every moment, I thought of memories to write in my journal. I recorded them between Mama’s appointments and late every night by candlelight. I wrote every day until my fingers were sore and all of my memories were in ink.
Over tea one afternoon, Charlie pressed his lips together as Liza examined my fingers. He had sent over a special salve he used for his knuckles and instructed me to try it. It had worked miracles on my sore fingers.
The next day, after staring far too long at my reflection in a mirror, I had a clear vision for my self-portrait. I spent two early mornings of endless work on my easel in the garden under the soft morning light. At first, Charlie and Liza were content to lounge nearby. But Charlie grew restless. He could not sit still with a book like Liza could, so instead, he followed the gardener around, returning later with a barn cat and a host of information about which plants in the grove were edible. Eventually, both my friends agreed that my final piece was a satisfactory likeness, so we left it to dry and then sent it with Molly to be framed. I planned to give it to Mama as a gift before my wedding.
Liza warmed to the idea of helping me complete my list. Or perhaps she worried less about Charlie and things she could not control and more about simply living. So, the next day, when she paid me a call at home, I had the perfect idea already in mind.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said, tugging her into the drawing room. I waited a beat, but no one else entered. “Where is Charlie?”
“Your brother took off with him. Something about missing their morning routine. He’s been visiting Charlie more often this week, talking about honor and duty and ...” She shuddered. “Manly things.”
“Missing their morning routine?” Realization struck. Charlie was boxing again. With Ben! “I know where they are. Let me grab my hat.”
“What? No!” Liza threw her hands in the air. “We are finally free of him! Let us live as we always have. Just the two of us. We can even do something natural and harmless off your list!”
I snatched my bonnet from where I’d laid it on the settee. “I need him,” I said, tying the ribbons under my chin. “And he promised to help me complete my list.”
I moved toward the door, but Liza grabbed my arm and spun me around. “Ros, forgive me for asking this, but I must. And you must answer me plainly.”
Her eyes were serious and strained, and her grip held strong.
“Of course. Anything. What is wrong?”
She pressed her lips together, then huffed and straightened her shoulders. “Have you fallen in love with my cousin?”
I reared back. “Of course not,” I blurted. It felt like the right thing, but the wheels in my mind churned. Fallen in love with Charlie?
Love. Charlie.
She watched me like I might change my mind. “I should hope not.” She paused, then took a breath. “But sometimes it feels as though you care more for his company than mine.”
Did I? Charlie had become a comfortable friend. But had I neglected Liza? “If that is true, then I must beg your forgiveness. Charlie is a good friend, but you are more a sister, and the only one I have. No one will ever replace you, Liza.” I pulled her into an embrace. “But, dearest, unless you are willing to dig a hole, I shall need Charlie for an hour or so.”
Liza pulled back with a frightened look.
“Which reminds me,” I said, releasing her. “What, out of everything you possess, do you treasure most?”
“Liza and I are here!” I called out to thepat-pat-boomwithin the grove. “Make yourselves presentable and come out. We need your assistance.”
The boxing sounds were exchanged with low murmurs, and within a short time, both Charlie and Ben emerged from the trees.
“What are you doing in there?” Liza asked, clearly confused as to why they both were drenched with sweat and Charlie was buttoning his waistcoat.
“Nothing,” Ben said quickly, eyeing me like a rabbit caught in a trap.
Charlie dug a hand through his hair, fluffing it out. “What do you need?” he asked, looking to me.
I held up a spade. “I need a hole. Deep enough to fit a box for a very long time.”
“Rosalind, can this not wait? Winston and I are busy,” Ben said, enunciating the words with knowing eyes.
But a half smile lifted the corner of Charlie’s mouth. “Dug where?”
“Under the flowers?” I motioned to a cluster of wild daisies to my right.
He strode close and took the spade from my hand, then said in a low voice, “After this, only two left.”
“A hole for what?” Ben narrowed his gaze at me.
