Finally I manage it and the world stops spinning. I just keep thinking, why? Why has she done this?
And then it comes to me, the only possible explanation. Grace must have told her what I did. Grace told her and she was so appalled, she wanted me locked away. She wanted to keep Grace safe from me.
A vision of Aunt Phyllis's drawing room presents itself to me: flowers everywhere, painted, embroidered. And me sitting there like a serpent in her Eden.
Eliza breaks into my thoughts. "Why would she do such a thing? Have you any idea?"
I close my eyes. I want to tell her, more than anything in the world. But how can I?
I open my eyes and there she is, looking at me so sympathetically, her blue eyes as honest as the day.
I can't hold back. Taking a deep breath, I tell her what happened at Carr Head...
Louisa, my dear."
I fell into my aunt's arms, tears spilling down my face. After a long hug, I wiped my eyes and she said, "Let me look at you."
We hadn't seen each other since Papa's funeral.
"Are you well? You look so pale."
"Yes. Of course I am." I tried to smile.
Aunt Phyllis clearly wasn't convinced. "Come and sit by me and tell me how you've been. How is your mother? And have you heard from Tom?"
I longed to pour everything out to her, all my loneliness and grief and disappointment ... but I thought of Mamma, and I couldn't. It seemed disloyal, but also, my aunt would want to know why I hadn't let her know all this in my letters. I couldn't tell her about Mamma's hostility towards her.
"Lou?" My aunt was waiting.
I said something stilted about Mamma still feeling Papa's loss deeply. Tom was—Tom was well. Of course Aunt Phyllis wasn't satisfied with my replies, I could tell. But she said, "We'll talk more later. While you're here, you must have a lovely holiday."
"Thank you. I'm sure I will." Then, all I cared about—"Where's Grace?"
Aunt Phyllis smiled. "She'll be down in a moment. Come and see what changes I've made in the house."
***
We were in the conservatory admiring the passionflowers when I heard Grace's light step.
She took my hand, exclaiming, "How cold you are, Lou! And on such a hot day too." Before I could speak, she laid her face against mine. It was a brief embrace but when she drew away, my cheek burned.
"I'll leave you two to talk," said Aunt Phyllis. "The men will be home soon."
The men. William. Remembering Tom's ridiculous idea about me and William, I went hot again.
As we sat down, it came to me that we were sitting in the very seats we had sat in earlier in the year when she had drawn my portrait. That picture ... It was creased from my constant looking at it, not because I wanted to see myself, but because Grace had drawn it.
"Do you remember?"
Grace looked enquiring.
"We sat here in April and you drew my portrait."
"Did I? Such a lot has happened since then."
"Yes it has."
She was instantly contrite. Leaving her chair, she knelt in front of me. Taking both my hands in hers, she said, "Oh, Lou, how dreadful of me to be thinking only of myself." She looked up at me. "Has it been really awful without poor Uncle Edward?"
"I'm all right." I couldn't tell her the truth.
"I hope so, truly. And I'm sorry you aren't going to be my bridesmaid now, but I do understand."
"It's not long now, is it?"
Grace launched into details of the revised wedding preparations, the trip to Europe that was to follow, the new house in London. Her animation brought a flush to her face and I was glad I hadn't burdened her with my woes. I didn't want to make her unhappy and she was happy, I could see that.
Eventually, she stood up. "It must be time for tea. We've been having it in the garden, it's still so fine." She went to the garden door and looked out. "Yes, it's there. And so is Charles of course."
I had the sensation of falling. "Charles?"
She laughed back at me from the doorway. "Yes, he's always first. He can't resist cake."
I peered over Grace's shoulder. Charles was sitting at the tea table, napkin already in his lap, looking hopefully towards the house.
"I didn't know Charles was here."
She gave a little laugh. "Yes, poor dear. He's bored to death with all the wedding talk. Come and say hello."
She stepped outside but I hung back.
"I'd like a wash before tea. I'll come in a minute."
I watched as Grace ran across the lawn. She sat down next to Charles and their heads moved together, as they spoke.
I turned away.
What had I been thinking of? I'd imagined the two of us, Grace and I, walking together, riding perhaps, talking...
Now, here was Charles. Seeing him again reminded me of the stark reality: Grace really was going to be married, her heart belonged to someone else.
She would never love me in the way that I loved her. There was no room in her life for me, except her cousin of whom she was fond, whom she would be glad to see now and then, but wouldn't miss, not really, in the intervals between meeting.