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“It’s completely normal to be sad when someone we love has to leave.” Seth came to mind far too quickly. He’d left London for only a couple of weeks not long ago, and she’d felt his absence painfully. What would she do if he everdiddecide to quit London entirely?
“However,” Charlotte hurried on, wishing to push thoughts of Seth leaving far away. “Emma has not gone far, and she will still visit from time to time.”
“Oh yes. She has every third Sunday of the month off, and she always comes to see me.”
“There, see? That is not so bad.”
Jane nodded her head, seeming to agree that it wasn’t a bad arrangement at all.
“However,” Charlotte continued, “I do think Emma was concerned that maybebetweenher visits, you were not doing well.”
The little girl’s brow creased. “Why?”
That’s what Charlotte had been asking herself. “Maybe she’s worried you aren’t doing well in your studies.”
“I’m getting really good at sewing, and my reading is improving.”
“What of your writing and scripture studies?”
“Teacher says my writing is very elegant. Sitting still for scriptures is hard, but I am trying.”
More than just the girl’s words, her tone and manner of speaking all seemed to indicate that things were going well with her studies.
They turned a corner in the path and continued along the far wall.
“Do you have many friends here?” Charlotte asked.
Jane nodded quickly, then pointed toward the circle of girls who were once more engrossed in their dolls. “There’s Beth and Emily and Sarah and Hattie and Jane. She and I have the same name, even.”
The warmth with which Jane spoke of her friends was evident.
Why then had Emma been so concerned?
Was it just the natural worry a woman felt when one she loved as her own child was far away from her? Though Emma and Jane were sisters, there was no doubt in Charlotte’s mind Emma was almost more a mother to Jane. So, perhaps that was it.
“Is thereanything,” Charlotte tried one last time, “that worries you or makes you unhappy here?”
Jane stopped walking, her nose wrinkling. “I hate washing pottage out of bowls. It’s so slimy.”
Charlotte laughed again. “Can I tell you something? I hate that too.”
They spoke for a few more minutes. Jane told Charlotte about the little socks she’d darned the other day and of the bed sheet she’d tried to hang, only to have the wind catch hold of the fabric and send it flying across the courtyard and into a tree.
The girl was clearly happy and whole. Charlotte was most glad she could send such a report back to Emma, but still puzzled.
After a short visit with Mrs. Lewis to see that all other aspects of the asylum were in order and that there was nothing else Charlotte needed to do to help, Charlotte climbed back into her carriage.
Now what? She’d spoken with Emma—but learned nothing. She’d tried talking more than once to Lord Windham—he refused to give her a straight answer. Now she’d visited Jane—only to find the girl completely fine.
There was only one other party she’d not yet talked to, and that was the lady of the house where Emma had first been employed but then let go. It was a bit of a long shot, but there may be answers to be had there.
She gave the directions to her driver and soon was alighting from the carriage and starting up the steps to the townhouse owned by Lord Harris.
Charlotte had yet to learn much of anything so far.
Well—that wasn’t exactly true. She’d learned that Lord Windham had been responsible for finding Emma employment with Lord Baxter when she’d first been let go by Lord Wendleston. Perhaps that was why Emma had asked to speak with Lord Windham when needing yet another new post? Perhaps she’d been hoping he could find her a place yet again?
It wasn’t much, but it was a small piece that seemed to make sense.
