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Charlotte’s cheeks reddened. Louisa’s eyes burned into hers.
“I saw you leave the ballroom with Jeffrey,” Louisa said slowly.
Charlotte’s heart pumped wildly. “I did.”
“She did!” Margorie cried. “Marvellous.”
“And what happened? You’d only just told me you hadn’t feelings for him,” Louisa said. Her voice remained light, not accusatory.
“As if you’d believe her,” Margorie said. “Look at her. She’s on the precipice of true love.”
“You speak like an oracle,” Charlotte said with a laugh. “Perhaps the alcohol gives you some sort of vision the rest of us don’t have.”
“So you admit it!” Margorie cried.
“Perhaps. Perhaps, I admit, I have feelings for Jeffrey,” Charlotte said, heaving a sigh. “But I don’t know. It’s all been so tumultuous. Perhaps I should end it before it truly begins.”
“Why? It sounds as though you want to convince yourself not to feel whatever it is you’re feeling,” Louisa said accusatorially. “And isn’t that just typical Charlotte?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Charlotte asked.
As the carriage rumbled through the night, the moon caught a reflection across Louisa’s cheeks, illuminating her beautiful face.
“I only mean that you’re continually running from potential emotions,” Louisa said. “The potential of love. It’s sprung up before you multiple times before. It’s demanded your attention, in the form of many, many handsome men. And you’ve refuted it.” Louisa pressed her lips together for a moment, seemingly amid thought. “It’s my duty as your friend to push you beyond your personal-held limitations.”
“I thought it was your duty as my friend to allow me to do whatever it is I please,” Charlotte said, half-teasingly.
Louisa shook her head violently. “Just as it isn’t my duty as Margorie’s sister to allow her to fall to the steps in a drunken state and ruin her newfound love with Harry forever.”
“You take good care of us, Louisa,” Margorie murmured playfully. She reached up and twirled a finger through Louisa’s hair. “I don’t know what we did to deserve you.”
“Just promise you won’t run the way you normally do,” Louisa said, her eyes burning towards Charlotte. “See it through. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Leave it up to fate, and don’t poison your own future with your fear.”
Charlotte considered these words, her eyes towards the darkened moors. “I did kiss him,” she offered suddenly.
“Oh! She kissed him!” Margorie cried. “Look at you, Charlotte Stanton. You’re all grown up and falling in love.”
