Chapter 2 #3
Clara stepped up beside me. I hadn’t heard her approach, but she froze at the sight of Mama so uncollected.
“Your father has ruined us!” Mama whirled around and crossed the room to his portrait on the wall.
Her nails pressed into the canvas, scraping over the paint.
Her ribs swelled with a deep breath through the back of her gown before she spoke again.
“He gambled away the bulk of his fortune. And that is not the worst of it. He was caught cheating at cards. All of London now knows of our family’s disgrace and what little we have.
My husband is to be exiled to France and nothing will be left to us but this house and what little profit it still provides.
” She scratched her nails over the portrait of Papa again in a quick slash, but it made no mark.
With another cry of outrage, she pushed away from the wall and turned toward us.
Despite our recent fight, Clara and I exchanged a glance.
My heart sank with dread. I struggled to draw a breath as the reality of Mama’s words tore through me.
Fear pooled in my chest so deeply I thought I might drown in it.
Everything I had planned—my living now, my living in the future—was being ripped from my grasp.
Papa often found himself in gaming halls less than reputable.
But risking so much in a gamble? And cheating?
I had never thought him to be so reckless.
But then, I hardly knew him. I never had.
My heart picked up speed, and tears tightened a knot in my throat before splashing from my eyes. “What are we to do?” I whispered.
Mama wiped the tears from her face roughly and swallowed hard.
“We can no longer afford this house. We will have to move to a despicable little cottage…” Suddenly, her eyes lit up with urgency.
“Charlotte. Yes, Charlotte, you are our only hope. We shall move to the North, where we are entirely unknown. There you will meet all new gentlemen, none of whom will know of Papa’s scandal.
If you were to win the heart of a wealthy man, perhaps one with connections and influence, we could start anew. ”
“Me?” My heart raced even faster. “But how—how?”
“No questions, Charlotte. You must do this. It must be you. Clara is too plain to succeed quickly enough.” Her face had calmed a little, her eyes trained on me with determination.
If only I felt it within myself. I was afraid, and for once I wondered if I could succeed.
My confidence was wavering, and the feeling was completely new to me.
Mama paced the room with fresh speed. “Northumberland. That is where we must go. Perhaps Berwick? The place has been begging to be called Scotland for years.”
Clara and I exchanged yet another glance. Tears fell speedily down her cheeks. “That is a long journey, Mama,” Clara said.
“No, Craster! Yes, Craster will be perfect,” Mama continued, ignoring Clara. “The people there will surely have no idea who we are. I believe the Earl of Trowbridge resides there, and he has been away from London for years. He won’t have heard of Papa’s disgrace.”
I swallowed, my throat dry. “Mama—”
She put the back of her hand against her forehead and swayed on her feet. “I am feeling faint, now. The hour is late. Go to sleep. And Charlotte,” she regarded me firmly. “I expect nothing short of a miracle from you. I have invested so very much in you. It is time you repay the favor.”
Then she was gone, swallowed up in the darkness of the corridor.
My shoulders quaked with a contained sob.
Emotion tore through me so strong that I felt it tingle in the tips of my fingers.
Was this really happening? I choked on a breath, and my legs shook beneath me.
I felt Clara’s shock from where she stood beside me, but I couldn’t speak to her.
At the moment, all I wanted was to be alone.
I rushed away from her side and ran up the stairs.
My feet seemed to float, making me wonder once again if this was real, if any of it was real.
I burst into my bedchamber where Anna stood at attention.
“May I help you, miss?” she asked. She seemed to notice my tears, her eyes rounding in dismay.
“Go! Get out!” I shooed her toward the door, my voice cracking.
She complied, her face draining of color as she went.
I slammed the door behind her and pressed myself against the frame, my body shaking with fresh sobs.
Were our circumstances really so fragile?
I had heard whispers of debts before, but they were always accompanied by reassurances.
That was no longer the case. Our living, home, and name were all irrevocably tarnished.
How could I find a husband now? How could I be desired?
I had heard a tale of an earl once enticed to marry a tradesman’s daughter.
But how could I bridge such a gap as that?
I turned to the mirror against my wall. My cheeks were streaked in tears and red splotches, but in my eyes I saw a flash of determination.
Mama was right. I was our only hope. There was no other way to regain our wealth and station.
Marrying well had never been as important as it was now.
I was still a lady of high breeding, I reassured myself. I was still accomplished and beautiful.
After several minutes, I found myself unable to sit still.
I took the candle sitting on my desk and opened my bedchamber door.
Flame in hand, I made my way up the stairs to the room that was calling me.
I pushed open the heavy door and walked inside, touching the tip of my candle to the other unlit wicks.
The room blossomed in shadows and yellow light.
I walked to the pianoforte that was positioned in the center of my music room.
Clara’s harp stood in the corner like an abandoned thing, covered in a dust-coated sheet.
She had given up the pursuit years ago. I took a seat at the pianoforte and pulled music from the deepest parts of my mind, burying the pain and the fear.
I played every song I had memorized. I didn’t care if I kept Mama and Clara and Papa awake.
Perhaps they needed the music the same way I did.
I was held captive by the notes, driven by something other than the need to impress.
The sounds drove through my skin and settled somewhere inside me, uprooting the fear, the questions, and the unknown.
I played and played until my hands ached and my soul begged for relief.
When I finally stopped, I felt the silence of the room prickle across my skin. I was empty. Whatever unwelcome feelings that were left inside of me had been poured out, deposited somewhere they could no longer affect me.
I snuffed out all the candles and returned to my dark bedchamber.
There would be no more crying tonight.