Chapter 5
House Harrison
Elizabeth looked up from her lap to see their carriage rolling to a stop outside a large stone manor surrounded by violet flowers—Harrison Manor, where Charlotte lived. Relief flooded through her at the sight of the charming estate with periwinkle blooms in baskets by the door.
It would be a blessing to speak with Charlotte tonight, even if the dinner was being thrown to celebrate her engagement.
Elizabeth and her parents were warmly received by the Harrison’s housekeeper, who smiled and escorted them into the sitting room, where they were served tea.
Lady Harrison strolled into view wearing a pale yellow gown that went well with her deep skin tone. “How wonderful to see you all! Safe journey, I trust?” Lady Harrison said, smiling kindly. “Elizabeth, dear, Charlotte’s still upstairs getting ready."
Needing no further encouragement, Elizabeth dipped into a curtsey and fled.
Reaching the staircase, she slowed and looked around the manor that she knew nearly as well as her own—the bannisters where she and Charlotte used to slide down when they were little, a sitting room they had spent many evenings gossiping in and sipping wine.
A commoner would not have such a life.
Biting her lip, she put ideas of running away out of her mind, and knocked on Charlotte’s door loudly twice, before throwing the door open wide.
Charlotte was seated at her vanity, admiring the final touches on her appearance. She was wearing a dressing gown, and her hair was piled atop her head with a few dark curls framing her face. “Awkward carriage ride?” Charlotte asked, raising an eyebrow.
Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. “They’re acting as though I’m made of glass, liable to explode at them at any moment. Even though it was their choice that put me here.”
Charlotte snorted. “Lizzy, you’re the least likely person to explode at someone in anger.
” She surveyed herself in the mirror. “I think they just want you to be wed and are struggling to see things from your perspective. Perhaps you can ask your mother to talk your father around? She might be more sympathetic to you.” Charlotte turned to her maid, smiling warmly. “Thank you.”
Charlotte’s maid returned her smile and stepped back to give them some room.
Standing swiftly, Charlotte gestured at the vanity chair. “I’m done. Sit.”
Elizabeth did, slouching in defeat.
Charlotte jerked her head to the bed where a gown was already laid out, waiting for her. “Chin up. Your maid’s already dropped off your gown.” She glanced between the state of Elizabeth’s mussed hair, to her maid. She said drily, “Cecily, if you could work your usual magic.”
Her maid smiled and began dressing Elizabeth’s hair and applying a small amount of face paint to her cheeks and lashes.
A short while later, Elizabeth found herself being yanked into a corset. The gown she wore was pale green and made of butter-soft satin, while Charlotte looked resplendent in a gown of powder pink chiffon.
After Charlotte banished her maid to let them finish getting ready in private—really just an excuse for them to be able to talk without being overheard—Charlotte turned to her, grinning broadly.
They took their time catching up, in no hurry to go downstairs. Charlotte was in rare form, making jokes on every subject imaginable, and Elizabeth found herself laughing for the first time in days.
“Look at this.” Charlotte held up a revolting yellow dress that clashed with monstrous red ruffles.
“I saw this and just thought of you.” On seeing Elizabeth’s incredulous face, Charlotte’s face split into a wide grin.
“Isn’t it the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen?
Connall’s mother insisted this is her favourite seamstress in Calyx.
” Charlotte gave her a knowing look and wiggled her eyebrows.
“I got it for when we have lunch in a few weeks.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Absolutely ravishing.”
Charlotte flopped into a chair and exclaimed dramatically, “Connall is so handsome, and his mother is very kind. I have decided that a lack of fashion sense is a flaw I can live with.”
Elizabeth laughed, rifling through her bag and gave a sharp intake of breath. “Oh! I forgot my stupid accessories at home.”
“Wear something of mine then; borrow whatever you like.” Charlotte waved a hand dismissively.
“Thanks!” Elizabeth said brightly. “What are you wearing tonight?”
Charlotte pulled open the two drawers to her vanity. “Pink has really been my colour this season. I think I’ll wear these,” Charlotte said, rummaging through the drawer and pulling out a set of pink drops.
Elizabeth grinned and rifled through the drawers, looking for something green to match her gown.
Charlotte’s collection ranged from the smallest and most delicate necklaces to large and chunky pieces like an ugly, rough-hewn ruby ring and the gaudiest purple pendant that she had ever seen. Amused, she picked it up.
It was pretty, in a garish way, but it was several centuries out of fashion, if it had ever been in fashion.
The purple stone looked roughly cut, and the gold around the pendant was fashioned into waves.
The purple gem in the center looked oddly bright and felt heavy for its size.
Strangest of all, the pendant seemed to warm in her hand.
She touched another piece of jewellery for comparison—the metal was cool. The pendant was definitely warm. Intrigued, she traced the gold surrounding the gemstone with a finger.
“What’s that you have there?” Charlotte asked, peering over her shoulder.
“What is this pendant? I’ve never seen this type of stone before,” Elizabeth asked curiously. She tilted it back and forth in her hand. It caught the light in a strange way, and she was half convinced it was glowing from within, which, of course, would be impossible.
Charlotte grinned. “You know, I don’t actually know. My mother collects strange bits and bobs and has a special penchant for anything older than dirt.”
She held out her palm, and Elizabeth hesitated, for some reason feeling reluctant to give back the ugly piece of jewellery. She berated herself for being silly and slowly handed it over.
Charlotte gave it a dismissive glance and tossed it back into the drawer as if it was nothing but a piece of junk.
Charlotte put her hands on her hips, surveying her jewellery drawer with a warrior-like focus. “Green?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said brightly, putting the pendant out of her mind.
Charlotte sifted through the pile and eventually pulled out a necklace with a small peridot hanging on a thin golden chain. Charlotte grinned and turned to her with a victorious expression. “Ooh, this is very you.”
“Thanks!” It was understated and elegant—exactly something she would have picked out for herself.
“Shall we go downstairs, then?”
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I suppose it can’t be put off for any longer.”
***
Dinner was a formal affair. Lord and Lady Harrison were dressed in their finest attire and gave several flowery speeches to congratulate her on her engagement. Elizabeth was treated to her mother simpering about how lovely it was to have a daughter finally betrothed.
Elizabeth hardly spoke for the entire evening, and Charlotte seemed to be the only one who noticed.
After dinner, Charlotte loudly declared she fancied a walk in the gardens, and Elizabeth rushed to join her. The two wandered through archways draped in wisteria. Charlotte’s maid trailed behind them as they walked through halls of violet flowers.
“They really intend to make you marry him,” Charlotte said in a hushed tone.
Elizabeth sighed heavily. “Yes.”
“I really thought they’d see reason eventually.” Charlotte pursed her lips and glanced at her. “And you’re all right with this?”
“I don’t think I have a choice. My father already accepted on my behalf and refuses to listen.”
“Hmm,” Charlotte mused. “Less than ideal.”
Elizabeth gave a broken laugh. “I’ll say.”
“I guess you’ll be married and very rich. Maybe you won’t need to see him too often after you’re wed? Is it possible you can be happy with that?”
Elizabeth chewed her lip, and they walked in silence for a while.
She held Charlotte's gaze for a moment and hesitated before saying, “Have you ever thought about leaving? Just running away from it all?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean … leaving the nobility.”
“You’re joking, right? Why on earth would you leave?”
Elizabeth didn’t have the words. She looked away and felt her expression darken.
“Lizzy?” Charlotte’s voice had lost its mirth, replaced by a note of concern. “You would be murdered or hungry and penniless. Even when the common women travel, going without a male escort invites trouble of the worst kind.”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I’m sure it would be all right.”
Charlotte smiled in her easy-going manner. “Then, let’s not worry about things that have not come to pass. Your parents might let you off the engagement yet. Maybe you can feign ill and skip the next ball?”
“Yes. Maybe you're right.” Elizabeth donned her court mask, and said nothing further on the subject.
***
Back in Briarton, Elizabeth attempted to return to her normal routine, but as she sat in the living room practicing her needlepoint, she had never felt more stifled.
The pink roses she embroidered on the cushion stared back at her, mocking, and soulless.
She punctured the cushion with the needle once more, and stopped, unable to bear finishing another stitch.
Sighing heavily, she rested the needle gently in her lap, still threaded with a strand of pink, and looked wistfully out the window. Something blue caught her eye. A bluebird twittered just outside the glass, hovering in midair for a moment, before flying out of sight.
Free. It looked free.