“I should have gone with her,” he says regretfully.
“It’s not as though you could abandon Miss Hollen,” says Jane, and Mirabella sips her tea again. Arsinoe thinks that Mirabella has fallen in with the mainlanders so easily, that she has changed her feathers and joined the flock. In truth, sometimes it is so hard not to scream that she almost cracks her teeth holding her mouth shut.
“Arsinoe has been left to run wild. I know it has not been easy for you girls, coming to a new place,” Mrs. Chatworth says, finally speaking, though her eyes remain fixed on the tablecloth. She never looks at Mirabella when referring to the island or their past. Mirabella does not even know how much about the island Mrs. Chatworth knows. Billy says she knows everything, but if that is true, she seems to have done a fine job of forgetting about it.
“Indeed, it must have been very hard,” she goes on. “But we cannot be expected to . . . corral her at every turn.”
“Corral?” Mirabella bristles.
“Perhaps that is an unfair term. But the fact remains that my son will not be able to look after her forever. Soon enough, he’ll be at university. And then he must make a profitable marriage and start a family of his own.”
Billy winces. Especially at the word “marriage.”
“University,” Mirabella says to him, and raises her eyebrows. “You have not told Arsinoe of this.”
“It’s not far. A few hours’ ride by coach. I’ll be home every Saturday and in between terms.”
Mirabella rises from the table, and the other women stare at her above the rims of their teacups.
“Excuse us a moment. I would speak to Billy alone.”
“No, please,” Mrs. Chatworth says, clearly irritated. “Why should my guest be made to leave the room when I could? Come, Jane, let us retire. I’ve had quite enough of the tedium of waiting.”
Mirabella steps aside as she and Jane quit the room and walk with straight backs up the stairs.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Billy says as soon as he hears both of their bedroom doors shut.
“Do you?”
“It’s just that I haven’t known how to tell her. Or you.” He looks at her guiltily and ruffles his sandy hair. “I feel a complete ass, leaving you like this. But I have to go. If we’re going to make a life here I need an education. We’re rich but not so rich that I can simply be a man of leisure.”
He goes to the window to look again for Arsinoe. “If only my father would come home.”
“Are you surprised he has not returned already?”
He shrugs. “After the way I defied him on Fennbirn, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sailed all the way around the world before coming back. With stops at every friendly port. Or he could return tomorrow. And when he sees you and Arsinoe . . . that’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to having.”
“It seems there are many conversations you are not looking forward to having.”
“Mira, are you cross with me? I haven’t seen that look on your face since the day I met you in Rolanth and threatened to skewer you through the neck.”
“Do not be silly.” She softens at the memory. “I was cross with you nearly every time you cooked for me.”
“Kept you from being poisoned, didn’t I?” He grins, but it fades quickly. “Well, except for that last time.”
“That was no one’s fault. But do not change the subject.”
“What subject? I thought we were just waiting for your sister.”
Mirabella goes to the window and snatches the curtains out of his fingers.
“About my sister,” she says. “How many times have I heard your mother hint about how much happier Arsinoe would be at your country estate? Hidden away from you and away from anyone who might view her as an embarrassment. How many times have they mentioned Christine Hollen as your potential bride?”
“Lots, I suppose.”
“Then when are you going to tell them about you and Arsinoe? That she will not be sent away. That you will not be cowed into marrying someone else.”
Billy lowers his head. He is a handsome young man. Many times Mirabella has thought so. His looks are less dramatic than Joseph’s were; he is less like a thunderstorm. He is real and of the earth. He is what her sister needs. Or at least he was. But here on the mainland, he is no longer the daring suitor who risked everything for them. On the island, he was courageous, with an outsider’s bravado. Here when girls call him a rogue, they only mean he is trying to get under several skirts at once.
“If you regret bringing us here,” she says carefully, “if you do not intend to be with Arsinoe, then I will take her someplace else. I am not without skill or cleverness. I can make a life for us.”
Billy stares at her, almost like he does not believe her. But then he takes her hand.
“That’s the last thing I want. I will tell them. You have my word. I won’t leave her without assurances.”
Before Mirabella can say anything further, he sees movement thought the curtains and exclaims, “She’s here!”
He opens the door and reveals Arsinoe, shivering and soaking wet, on the front step, with what looks to be a dirty fur rolled up beneath her arm. Then Billy embraces her, and the fur barks.
“I found him in an alley after some boys chased him down there with sticks.” Arsinoe holds the dog, squirming, to her chest.
“Poor thing,” says Billy. “But he’s filthy, Arsinoe; my mother will have a fit if you bring him in here.”
“No, see?” she says, and runs her hand over the little dog’s back. “Under all the scum, he’s got a pretty brown-and-white coat. I thought we’d clean him up and put a ribbon on him. Give him to your mother and Jane as a peace offering.” She steps farther into the foyer as Billy rubs his forehead and chuckles. Distracted as he is by the dog, he does not notice the haunted look in Arsinoe’s eyes. Nor does he note how hard she is shivering, far too hard for someone who has just come in from a warm summer rain.
“Let us take him into the washroom, then,” Mirabella says. “Quietly.”
Once they are in the washroom, Mirabella sends Billy to heat water for a bath and to fetch extra lamps. When he is gone, she pulls a blanket down from a shelf and wraps her sister in it.
“Now,” she says. “What is really the matter?”
“Nothing. I saw this dog get chased, and I wanted to save it. It’s how I was raised.”
“Yes, yes.” Mirabella smiles softly. “Poisoner by birth, naturalist at heart. But there is more to this. Why did you stay gone for so long?”
“I fell asleep,” Arsinoe answers, eyebrows down so Mirabella knows she is not telling her everything. But it will have to wait. Billy is returning with the hot water and lamps. So they set the dog in the washbasin, and Mirabella reaches for soap.
“It is a good thing Mrs. Chatworth and Jane are already in bed,” Mirabella says. “They would be beside themselves if they knew you had taken off your dress in public.”
“It wasn’t in public. It was in the graveyard, behind a tree. And besides, I had all these clothes on underneath!”
They finish bathing the dog, who really is quite a lovely fellow underneath all the muck, and towel him dry before Arsinoe carries him up to their bedroom. Billy does not leave her side until they are in the doorway and then leans in to kiss her cheek.