By the time Becky returned, Arista had regained her composure completely.
“Mr. Wild is coming, miss,” Becky said breathlessly. “He wasn’t too happy that David left his post to tend to the commotion below stairs, but I assured him that you’d been sleeping.”
“David?” Arista quirked her eyebrow, but then smiled as color covered Becky’s cheeks. It was nice to see something other than pain or fear on her friend’s face. But her expression quickly turned more serious.
“Miss…what you’ve agreed to, with Wild I mean, it’s…not because of me, is it?” Becky clasped her hands together tightly. Her glance slid to the door and back to Arista. “I know you can take care of yourself, and I don’t want you to feel…”
Arista swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Becky, I’m doing this for us. For both of us. And I don’t feel obligated,” Arista lied. “I need you more than you need me. Who will keep me from making foolish choices?”
Becky snorted, then covered her mouth. “Sorry miss, it’s just…” The red spots on her cheeks grew brighter.
“I know—I ‘never listen,’ Becky.”
“No, miss, you don’t. The only person who could keep you in line was Nic.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.
“Do you think he’s okay, miss?” Becky asked softly.
“I really don’t know. But I have to believe that he is.” Any more talking was preempted by a quick knock at the door. It swung inward before either of them answered. Wild stepped into the room, his gaze darting swiftly between them before settling on Arista.
“Be ready to go in one hour. Everything has been arranged, as you requested.” He gave her a quick half bow, then turned on his heel and left the room.
“Miss? Are we really leaving?” Becky asked.
Wild had agreed to her terms, which meant that Arista had entered into a new partnership. The wisdom of her decision would remain to be seen. “Yes, Becky, I guess we really are.” Reluctantly, she pushed the covers aside and sat up. “Everything will be fine, just like I promised.”
Becky didn’t believe her. Arista saw it in her face, but her friend said nothing. She only helped Arista get dressed once more in the blue frock. Wild told them nothing about where they were going, but if this person was a business associate of Wild’s, anything was possible.
An hour later, the carriage pulled up to the front of a neat townhouse in Talbot Court. Honest middle-class merchants lived in this part of London. The footman climbed down and opened the door, then offered his arm to Arista. Bright mid-morning sun shone down, a rarity in fog-shrouded London.
This was a home, and behind the door, there were people inside. She had not expected this.
Families lived here; real families.
“Are you Ana?” A fresh-faced girl in a beautiful pink morning dress smiled down at them from a small balcony above the front door. Her curly hair had been pinned back, but some had fallen free, and it bobbed around her face as she bounced on her toes. She appeared to be around the same age as Arista.
Arista’s feet hit the ground, and she froze. This wasn’t going to work.
“Oh, you are, I just knew it! I could hardly wait for you to arrive.” The openness of the girl’s expression took Arista by surprise. Scorn, contempt, fear—those were familiar emotions in faces around her. Friendliness? Rarely. But the girl was not pretending. Her smile was artless, not forced, and her body was relaxed as she leaned out over the wrought-iron rail. As she spoke her hands moved wildly in the air. Everything about the girl spoke of sincerity.
“Do come inside! I asked Mama to put you in the room next to mine, but Papa insisted you should be in the guest room downstairs. We seldom get visitors, and when we do, they’re usually wrinkle-faced old men who talk business all day. I adore your short hair. Mine is an unruly mess all the time. Perhaps we can convince Mama to let me do the same with mine? We are going to be such good friends, I just know it!” Her merry laughter rang out and she disappeared back into the house.
A dull, smothering unease settled around Arista, like a coat that fit too tightly. Friends? No, this would definitely not work at all. “Becky, I think we should…” Her maid was already deep in conversation with a white-haired man who stood in the open doorway. They were chatting like old friends, and Becky actually giggled.