Surprised that Mary was genuinely suggesting she consider the offer, Charlotte continued to pace the room. For Mary, who had felt so chafed by the confines of polite society in England, the opportunity no doubt seemed like a chance to become a pioneer of sorts. Yet it was neither Mary’s opportunity nor name at stake, and she could not expect to live her own desires vicariously through Charlotte. “You cannot be serious. Whatever would my family say?”
Mary shrugged, as if the answer were simple. “Do not tell them, then.”
She stared, astounded. “I cannot lie to them.”
“Cannot, or will not?”
“It is much the same thing.”
“Curse your insistence on absolute honesty.” Mary sighed. “Well, so what? If it provided you with a good living, then what would be the matter? Women of our station sometimes become governesses, do they not?”
“Under extreme pressure or after some terrible catastrophe, yes.”
“And do you not consider your current circumstances to fall under that category?”
“Well, I—”
“And here you would be earning far more than working as a governess.”
“But I would still be earning,” Charlotte insisted. The idea of taking a job at such an advanced age—a position which entailed real responsibility, never mind opening doors into the dreams she had considered impossible—was overwhelming. “I have never worked before, and it would be…you must surely see that it is out of the question.”
“I see nothing of the sort. Besides, it would also mean that we could be together in a slightly more public setting.”
Panic rose like a tide, turning Charlotte’s stomach into a mass of roiling green waves. It was quite one thing to love in secret, amongst people who had similar persuasions, and quite another to upend her life by confessing something unacceptable in her usual circles.What would I tell my parents? What would I tell Lizzie?The idea of everyone back home gossiping about her was a source of immense distress. “It is simply not conceivable.”
Mary threw up her hands. “And what is the alternative? Go back to Hertfordshire and live off your parents’ charity until they die, and then be at the mercy of other family? Or marry a husband you neither want nor love, and force yourself to endure a lifetime of unhappiness? You made that choice once already.”
Charlotte flinched, her steps slowing. “It was not as bad as you may think it.”
“You cannot expect me to believe that,” Mary scoffed. “You had no real control, no friends, and no dreams. What little spark had ever been in you, life in Kent had crushed out.Hehad crushed it out.”
This echoed Charlotte’s own thoughts far too closely for comfort. She felt a sudden urge to defend Mr Collins; one oughtnot to speak ill of the dead, after all. “That is unkind. He was neither a bad man nor a bad husband.”
“And for that I am glad,” Mary retorted, “but you were not happy.”
“Happiness isn’t everything.”
“Well, it ought to be.” She took a deep breath. “It would be the easiest thing in the world to call a lawyer. I could give you all the trappings of marriage in the legal sense, even if the church would not recognise it.”
Mary seemed to have a reasonable answer for everything. Charlotte cast about desperately for another line of argument, her hands clenching into fists before uncurling into flat planes of panic. “And what should happen if you grow tired of me?”
“I would never grow tired of you.”
“You cannot know that for certain.”
Mary frowned, apparently surprised by the question. Her cheeks flushed an angry red as she rose to face Charlotte. “You married Collins without knowing as much. Are you suggesting I am less loyal than he?”
“No, I—” She swallowed hard. “But he had limited options, and you are evidently much in demand.”
“So you think me inconstant?” Mary’s eyes were blazing now. “After all that we have been through? All that I have shared with you? All that I have confessed?”
Charlotte wanted desperately to make this argument stop, but every word seemed to throw more oil on the fire. “That is not what I meant. It is merely that—”
“Then whatever did you mean? You do not want to be reliant upon me, but you do not want to create your own fortune. What alternative is there? Look, I love you and I wish for your happiness but—”
“Love does not change the world.”
“It has changed my world,” Mary argued. “And I wouldcontend that it has changed you too, these past weeks. You cannot deny it.”
