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"Mama says that women were not meant to have too many choices. It overwhelms them." Pippa repeats this as if it's a lesson well taught. "That's why we're supposed to defer to our husbands."
"Every choice has consequences," Miss Moore says, sounding far away. Felicity picks the apple from the bowl and finds her bite mark. The sweet white meat has browned in the air. She sinks her teeth in and makes a clean new mark.
"Delicious," she says, her mouth juicy full.
Miss Moore comes back to us with a laugh. "I see Felicity doesn't complicate the matter with too much deliberation. She's a hawk, diving in."
"Eat or be eaten!" Felicity takes another mouthful.
I'm thinking of Sarah and Mary, wondering what horrible choice they made. Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to shatter the Order. And that leads me to the choice I made the day I ran from my mother in the marketplace. The choice that seems to have put everything in motion.
"What happens if your choice is misguided?" I ask, softly.
Miss Moore takes a pear from the bowl and offers us the grapes to devour. "You must try to correct it."
"But what if it's too late? What if you can't?"
There's a sad sympathy in Miss Moore's catlike eyes as she regards my painting again. She paints the thinnest sliver of shadow along the bottom of the apple, bringing it fully to life.
"Then you must find a way to live with it."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The afternoon is a fine one, and the grounds and gardens of Spence are blooming with girlson bicycles, playing pantomimes, strolling, gossiping. The four of us have taken up a game of lawn tennis. We're playing doubles, Felicity and Pippa against Ann and me. Each time my racquet touches the ball, I fear I'm in danger of decapitating someone. I think it is safe to say that I may add tennis to the long list of skills I shall not acquire. By sheer luck, I manage to hit the ball to my opponents. It sails past Pippa, who watches it go by with all the enthusiasm of a cook watching water come to a boil.
Felicity throws back her head in exasperation. "Pippa!"
"It isn't my fault. That was a dreadful serve!"
"You should have reached for it," Felicity says, twirling her racquet.
"It was clearly out of reach!"
"But so much is within our reach now," Felicity says, cryptically.
The girls watching us play may not know what she means, but I do. Pippa is having none of it, however.
"This is dull, and my arm aches," she complains.
Felicity rolls her eyes. "Fine, then. Let's take a walk, shall we?"
We bequeath our racquets to an eager, pink-cheeked foursome. Our game ended, we link arms and roam through the tall trees, past a group of younger girls who are playing Robin Hood. The trouble is that they all want to be Maid Marian and no one wants to be Friar Tuck.
"Will you take us into the realms again tonight?" Ann asks, when their voices have faded to a hum behind us.
"You couldn't keep me away." I smile. "There's someone I want you to meet."
"Who?" Pippa asks, bending to pick acorns.
"My mother."
Ann gapes. Pippa's head pops up. "But isn't she"
Felicity interrupts. "Pippa, help me gather some goldenrod to bring to Mrs. Nightwing. That should put her in a happy mood tonight."
Dutifully, Pippa follows Felicity on her mission and soon we're all looking for the September blooms. Down by the lake, I see Kartik leaning against the boathouse, arms crossed, watching me. His black cloak flutters in the wind. I wonder if he knows about his brother's fate. For a moment, I feel a bit sorry for him. But then I remember the threats and taunts, the smirking way he tried to order me about, and all my sympathy vanishes. I stand tall and defiant, staring straight back at him.
Pippa wanders over. "Good heavens, isn't that the Gypsy who saw me in the woods?"
