Charlotte bent down and picked up the slipper. She reached out to the woman finally making eye contact with her. It had been some time since she had seen Octavia in passing, but her face was impossible to forget. She was striking, yet incredibly stern looking.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching out for the slipper. It seemed she recognized Charlotte too, by the hesitant look on her face. “You are?”
“Lady Charlotte. I suppose you could call me Charlotte.” There was a lump in her throat, as if the mere meeting of her was enough to inspire unrest in Charlotte’s mind.She couldn’t have been more familiar. She was the former betrothed of William, and from the way it sounded, she had been trying to win him back.
Octavia laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “I am so sorry,” she admitted. “Of all the people to watch my shoe fly off my foot!”
Charlotte softened, laughing as well. “You recognize me?”
“Of course,” Octavia nodded. “I thought you were the same person, but once I heard your name, I was certain.” She swung gently, tucking her shoe back on her foot. “I am happy for you, I promise. I am sure you might resent what I did the other day, but he is a good man, and so you must also understand.”
There was a small bench nearby, surrounded by fragrant rose buses. Charlotte took a seat. “I hold no resentment. Anyone who truly believes in love would be a fool not to pursue what they believe to be their best match…” she looked over her shoulder conspiratorially. “And, after all, our choices for suitors are bleak at best.”
Octavia laughed again. “Yes, how Lord Dennington cornered me over by the refreshments believing himself to be doing me some kind of favor.”
“Ugh,” Charlotte drew her lip back. He wasn’t the worst suitor, but his ego was much bigger than it deserved to be. “I think you would be doing him a favor,” she remarked.
She shrugged. “I would at least like to believe so!”
It was quiet for a moment in which Charlotte wondered if it was best for her to walk away. She hadn’t really thought it appropriate to spend time with a woman that her suitor had been engaged to. “Why did you…” Charlotte paused, holding her hands up. “Nevermind. I apologize. That would be rude.”
“You may ask.”
Charlotte looked down at her hands in her lap sheepishly. Now that she had thought better of her question, she wasn’t so certain she wanted to hear the answer. It wouldn’t make much a difference. It seemed like even she was willing to admit that it was her fault.
Octavia stared back, expectantly. She wanted to hear the question now and wouldn’t let it go until she did. “Why did you end your engagement with Lord Holdford?”
She chuckled defeatedly, staring at the worn patch of dirt in front of her. She brought her foot across the ground, smoothing the remaining grass out. “I am afraid of making a promise,” she admitted. “Forever is such a concept. I feel it is daunting.” There was a pause. “Do you think so? That one decision that cannot be mended or taken back could decide the entire course of one’s lifetime. Should I be happy or miserable? Should he? Forever is far too long.”
With a nod, Charlotte agreed silently. She’d been afraid of the same things. After all, she had already spent a lifetime with herself. That was comfortable most of the time. How could she be sure that William and her could work forever? “He seems to have a penchant for women who would much rather be left alone.” Or at least, that was what she hoped. Charlotte was starting to realize that she didn’t want him to leave her alone at all.
“And we like men with devotion.” She paused. “Just not enough?”
Charlotte stared back at her. She drew back, surprised at the question. “We are courting,” she said. “We may marry yet. I could actually…see it.” At this point, Charlotte couldn’t even figure out if she was lying on behalf of her wager with William or if she really believed such a thing herself. Could she really spend every morning waking to the light shining on his face? Could she spend chilly evenings tucked against his side as they spoke until it was far too late? Could she have children and a home and a world in which she retained any freedom at all? The thought was enough to choke the words out of her, and yet part of her could still see it.
“I know,” Octavia murmured. “He seems happy, I will not lie to you. I want him to be happy, but I want to be happy too. Do you think there is any room for that kind of selfishness in a marriage?”
Charlotte opened her mouth to respond, but the words never followed. She could say no and just leave it at that. If she said no, the answer would be decisive and strong. If she said no, it would be just as if she was telling Octavia to leave him be. That is what she wanted, but that wasn’t what she said. “Where is the line between selfishness and knowing what you deserve?”
Octavia’s eyebrows raised. She was obviously surprised by the answer. She nodded, slowly. “That was not the answer I was expecting. You are nothing like I imagined, Charlotte.”
“I fear I could never persuade you to pursue him, but I would be a hypocrite if I held any resentment. We are all simply forced to play the same game, and the prize is clear. If someone can give us any semblance of happiness, then that is what we must chase. There are few other options.”
“Then we are rivals, but is that not sort of enjoyable in itself? Only one of us can win.” Octavia laughed. “This is so foolish. I feel like a fool to be vying for the affections of a man.”
A smile crept onto Charlotte’s face. It was so improper to be talking to the former betrothed of one’s suitor in such a way. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t technically wrong but that was probably because no one would dare think of something as heinous. It was complicated. Charlotte didn’t feel a desire to fight for anyone’s affections. If he loved her, then he would be certain that she was the right choice for him. Fighting over someone didn’t seem very romantic at all, but she did like the cheek of Octavia to even suggest it.
“As much as I appreciate the idea, I am smart enough to no longer make wagers.”
“That is fair, Charlotte,” she said, swinging slightly above the ground. “By all of the leaves on the trees we should despise each other, yes?”
Charlotte lifted her palms in the air as if to say she didn’t know. “We are more similar than either of us would like to believe.” She smiled softly.
After the way he’d spoken of her, Charlotte could never understand why William loved Octavia. Now, however, Charlotte was finding that she was brutally honest and witty. Even if the words that left her mouth were detestable, she still retained enough charm to make them sound sweet as they joined the universe. That was what made her so hard to read.
Charlotte looked into the distance by the old bridge further down the path. She smiled when she spotted Arabella, laughing, arm-in-arm with Benedict. He had always known how to make her laugh even when she was falling to pieces.
“I ought to move along, then,” Charlotte said, standing up from the bench. She ran her finger over the velvety petal of an orange rose as she passed another rosebush.