The Brideship Wife, стр. 14

Chapter Eight

The visit with the widow had been a campaign-donor call, Harriet told me the next day. She came to my bedroom rather late in the morning, still looking peaked. “With everything on my mind, I completely forgot that Charles had some business to take care of before he left for the lodge.”

There was something about the casual way she spoke that left me doubting I had heard the whole truth, but I sensed she needed me to accept her answer and let it be for the time being. When she was feeling better, I would sit her down and make her tell me what was going on and see what I could do to help.

Harriet turned her attentions back to my problem. “Jane has already been let go,” she said, then placed a piece of paper in front of me.

“What’s this?”

“A very carefully crafted note to George for you to sign. I want it delivered today.”

“Delivered by whom?”

“By you.”

“No, Hari! I never want to see that man again, ever.”

“To make this work he needs to see that you are not a threat, that you are genuinely making a peace offering.”

She was right as usual, but I could barely stomach the idea. I went over to my writing desk, and as I rummaged through it looking for pen and ink, I spotted the brochure Wiggles had given me. The date of the meeting was today, I realized. If I decided to go, I could put off the dreaded visit to George until after.

I paused, my pen hovering over the paper I was expected to sign, feeling somewhat of a traitor to myself. I once fancied that I had some of my father’s independent spirit in me, but I doubted that now. I imagined the sort of women who would be attracted to the brideship resettlement scheme. They would be bold and adventurous, not afraid to stand up to the “Georges” of the world. What kind of life would await them? I sighed and reluctantly signed the bottom of the fine, elegant paper, applying my red wax seal before tucking it into my bag.

I told myself that I couldn’t seriously contemplate resettling in the colonies because Hari and Charles would never hear of it, but there was more to it than that. Hari was the only family I had left, and I couldn’t bear to leave her. The more I ruminated about it, the more I could see that she was going to need my support in the coming months. I had always depended on her, but perhaps the time had come for her to lean on me. I would be the one to take on the role of the big sister for once. But after Wiggles’s selfless gift of her most prized possession, I felt obligated to attend the Columbia Emigration Society meeting as she had asked. I will at least go through the motions so that when I return her necklace I can honestly say that I gave her idea some thought.

It was unusual for me to set out for London two days in a row. I seldom came to the city—its charms were lost on me—and when I did, I was rarely alone. But today my shoes made a lonely echo on London’s cobblestone streets as I stepped out of the carriage across the street from Charles’s club. A watery sun broke through the clouds, gracing the grand white marble building before me with elegant light. I had to squint and lower my eyes as I advanced towards a group of men making their way up the steps to the front door. Despite my firm resolution that this venture wasn’t for me, a heady exhilaration filled me at the thought of thumbing my nose at society’s rules about ladies requiring escorts.

I felt a hand firmly grip my arm and pull me sharply to one side. A man hissed in my ear, “What in blazes are you doing here?”

I wrenched my arm away and looked up at my accoster. It was George. Bile rose in my throat at the smell of him, the touch of his hand. “Mr. Chalmers! Why are you here?”

“Are you planning to make trouble for me at my club, of all places? I will make you very sorry if you even try.”

“I’m attending a meeting. Women are being admitted to the club just for today.” I remembered the letter. I opened the drawstring on my purse and pulled the sealed paper out. “This is for you. We have to come to some sort of agreement about what happened… settle things once and for all.”

“What is this? Some sort of legal summons? I won’t accept it, I tell you.” We were attracting some curious glances from the group of men lingering by the door. “Get away from me.” He began to pull back from me, but I tried to push the letter into his coat pocket. I just wanted to be done with this man, for Harriet’s and my sakes.

“Just what do you think yer doing, little missy?” a new voice said.

I dropped the letter as I spun around to see a bearded policeman looking me over.

“Unaccompanied ladies ain’t welcome here,” he said. “Ply your trade in the back alleys like the rest of ’em.”

He picked up the letter and handed it to George. “This looks like it belongs to the gentleman. Here you go, sir. Sorry you were bothered by the likes of her.”

George took the letter and almost stumbled in his haste to get away. The policeman gripped my arm and leaned in on me. The sharp tang of chewing tobacco made me recoil.

“I’m here for the meeting. I have every right to be