Chapter Thirty-Three #2
She had not realised how trying and lonely it had been to move to a new city with only the ties of a few tenuous social connections.
Seeing a familiar face—a friendly face—was a relief indeed.
And so, when Elsie blew past the customary greeting and embraced her in a sisterly hug, Charlotte gladly returned the gesture.
When Elsie pulled back, she held Charlotte at arm’s length and examined her. “You look well. Much better than he does.” The comment was a punch to her gut.
It took Charlotte a moment to be able to draw breath again, and she remembered an afternoon when she was first learning how to ride at their country estate, only a year before her mother passed, the stable master had sent her out with a young groom tasked with walking her and her mare out around the corral.
The groom had saddled her mount swiftly, wanting to get outside before the maids finished beating the carpets on the lawn—he had been sweet on one of them—and in his haste, had not measured the stirrups well enough.
When Charlotte turned to watch a bird flying overhead, her feet had not found purchase in the loose stirrups, and she had slipped off the saddle, landing hard on her back in the turned-up earth of the ring.
The impact had made her bones vibrate like a tuning fork, and her mouth tasted of metal for the long moments before she was able to catch her breath again. She had been unharmed, but it had hurt.
This hurt more.
Elsie’s eyes were searching, but she did not back down or demur. In some ways, that was a mercy. Charlotte would have gladly gone the whole evening dancing around the topic of Benjamin, but she was lying to herself if she pretended that it was not the only thing she could think about.
“He has been like a man possessed,” Elsie continued, “and not in a good way. I do not think he sleeps. I doubt he eats, judging by the hollowness in his cheeks. All he does is work—and refuses to be questioned about anything.”
It was like water in the desert, hearing of Benjamin's well-being. Or, not-so-well-being if Elsie’s assessment was anything to go by.
Charlotte would give up a week’s pay just to hear whether he had gone out for the evening or stayed in.
If he had been seen riding in the park or about town on business.
And just like water in the desert, after one sip, she found herself only desperate for more.
“Is he really suffering so?” Her words were desperate, but she felt a secret thrill of relief that he might be just as affected as she was by her sudden departure.
“He would say nothing of the sort, but yes. I believe he is.” Elsie had led them over to the sofa she had only just vacated, and Charlotte sat down. Hard.
“You must understand, I did not intend to cause him any distress.”
Elsie was still clasping her hand, and she held on to it for dear life as she felt the tears she had not allowed since her flight north rise in her throat. Her nose prickled, and she rubbed it in a most unladylike manner.
“Of course, you did not.” Elsie’s voice was sure and strong.
“You did what you had to do to protect yourself and your family. It was an incredibly brave decision, and you have set yourself up here with great success.” She pressed Charlotte’s hand between hers and pulled it closer so that Charlotte would be compelled to look away from the ceiling, where she had been valiantly fighting back tears, and down to meet her eyes.
“I know how hard it is to rebuild yourself and your life after heartbreak. It takes a strong woman to take stock of her situation and move forward to make the best of it. You have done an incredible thing, and you are not to blame for any sorrow that has come from it.”
And Benjamin was, she seemed to imply.
Elsie let the words sink in, and silence settled for a long moment. When Charlotte trusted herself to speak again, her words were soft. “Thank you, Elsie. For your continued friendship.”
The two women smiled at each other, and Elsie withdrew not one but two handkerchiefs from her sleeve, passing one to Charlotte and using the other to dab her own eyes.
“I stay prepared. Nowadays, it takes next to nothing to set off the waterworks. The other day, Helen properly excused herself after she sneezed, and I was nearly inconsolable.”
She gave a wry, if watery chuckle, and Charlotte felt, even if the ache in her chest had not lifted, the burden of carrying it had been lessened by Elsie’s support and acceptance.
“I find myself dreadfully appreciative.” Elsie blew her nose like a barbarian, and the honking sound made both women break out in cleansing, belly-rolling laughter.
Elkington materialised in the doorway, Helen clasped onto one leg like a monkey in a tree, all traces of jam removed from her face, and a fresh frock to replace the pinafore that had been likely as jam stained as her cheeks after her purported escapades in the kitchen.
“Mama,” the girl whined as Elkington good-naturedly peeled her from his leg. “Am I really to have no supper? Papa said I have already had too many scones.”
Elsie smiled at Charlotte’s raised eyebrows. “Upon our marriage, Alexander legally adopted Helen, so we are now properly Mama and Papa.” She smiled, and the glow of her face was enough to light the room.
How happily things had turned out for the two of them, Charlotte thought with a remarkable lack of envy. Some people just deserved a happily ever after.
“He is teasing you. Of course, you are to have supper. What kind of mother would I be if I let my growing imp starve?” She smoothed back the riot of dark curls from the girl’s face and planted a kiss on her brow. “Now, let us go find Aunt Iona so we can all have supper together.”