While Matilda had already finished her bowl of soup and was onto her second plate, Augusta had not touched a single thing.
“You are not eating,” Charity replied. “Rather, you are sulking.”
“I would suggest you focus on your own plate, perhaps, sister dear.”
“Augusta,” Charity warned again. “I understand that you are upset about things, but this is not the way to show it. We have had a long journey, and you need nourishment.”
“I am perfectly fine,” Augusta said. Her protest had no end in sight.
Matilda dropped her spoon and folded her hands.
“See what you are doing?” Charity said to Augusta. “You are creating tension, and poor Matilda is paying the price.”
“Oh, so you’re shifting the blame on me now?” Augusta replied. “As though it is my fault that we are in a strange estate? Perhaps that is why I don’t have an appetite. Have you paused to consider that?”
Charity poured tea into Matilda’s cup and slid it closer.“Drink up, sweetheart,” and then turned back to Augusta.
“I understand that is not normal,” she said plainly. “But you need to understand that this is our new reality, and you ought to get used to it.”
“But you’re asking a lot out of me,” she said. “First, you said that we would be safe and then we were stopped in the carriage. I don’t know if I should believe you now.”
“Are we safe?” Matilda asked innocently.
Charity felt so angry at Augusta. She felt that she was creating problems, but then calmed herself. She was the oldest sister and could not lose her cool like this.
“It is all going to be fine,” Charity said. “You don’t need to worry about anything.”
“You cannot keep telling her that things will be fine if you do not know that they will be,” Augusta said.
Charity felt the familiar pull in her chest, the urge to argue until she won, and she forced herself to step around it.
“I know that we are far removed from Uncle Edward now,” Charity replied. “And that he cannot harm us here.”
“Sure, Uncle Edward cannot,” Augusta replied. “But are you really certain that the duke won't? I do not know this man, and you do not know him either, not really.”
Matilda looked between them, anxious and silent. Charity reached across and took Augusta’s hand. She did not care if Augusta hated it.
“He got us out of that situation,” Charity replied. “Why are you so fixed on being distrustful of him?”
Augusta chewed on her lip.
“To put it simply, I don’t think I like him very much.”
There it was, the truth of the matter.
“He commands you around, and does the same to us,” she said. “What makes you believe that he will listen to anything that we say to him? Now we are in his estate with nowhere to go, even.”
“We have an understanding between the both of us…”
“Yes, both of you,” August snapped. “But why am I being subjected to all this then? You haven’t given me any clear answers either.”
Charity inhaled, then let it out through her nose.
“I am tired,” she said. “I am tired. I am trying not to frighten you both by snapping at him in his own house when we have nowhere else to go.”
Augusta’s expression flickered, and Charity could see the fear under the anger, which made her want to pull her sister into her arms and also shake her at the same time.
Before either could speak again, there was a knock at the door.
