Tangled Webs

“Well, there are many ships that sail all over the world, my dear. When you’re ready to go, I’m sure we can assist with proper arrangements.” Mr. Sinclair nodded his approval at his wife’s words and picked up his fork.

 

“Oh, and I must take you to the bonnet shop, Ana,” Sophia said from across the table. Her eyes glinted with excitement, and something very close to mischief. Arista smiled and nodded, not at all excited about bonnet shopping.

 

The family finished their meal with more conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair about trade routes and finding new crew members. Mrs. Sinclair had as many opinions as her husband, and Arista watched in fascination. Mr. Sinclair took her suggestions to heart. Even when they disagreed at one point, a spirited debate ensued instead of a fight. Arista waited with bated breath.

 

“Your idea is ridiculous,” Mrs. Sinclair said at last, throwing her napkin down.

 

Every muscle in Arista’s body tensed. Now the anger would come. The destruction. Something must have shown on her face, because Mr. Sinclair looked at her with concern.

 

“Are you okay, Ana? I apologize for the business talk, it must all be very boring for you.”

 

And just like that, the tension in the room disappeared. No one had used fists. There was nothing thrown; nothing broken.

 

“Usually father and Grae talk for hours after breakfast,” Sophia said, rolling her eyes. “But my brother had to get back to the ship for something early this morning.”

 

“That boy works too hard,” Marguerite said, though Arista could hear the pride in her voice. “Just like someone else I know.” Her pointed gaze wandered to her husband, but it turned soft when their eyes met.

 

“Well, he must have had something important to see to, as we had plans to go over a new route I’ve been studying.” Disappointment shone in his eyes, and the pastry Arista had eaten sat like a lump of coal in her guilty stomach.

 

“If you will excuse me, I’d like to get some air in the garden,” Arista said, rising to her feet.

 

“I’ll come with you,” Sophia said, pushing back her chair. “And maybe later we can go look at the bonnets I told you about.”

 

Not once had Arista mentioned that she needed a bonnet, yet Sophia seemed almost fixated on the errand. When they got to the garden, Arista thought, she would plead a headache and go back to her room. Once they were out of earshot, however, Sophia wound her arm through Arista’s and pulled her out into the garden through a pair of open patio doors. “You must think I am frivolous to go on about a bonnet, but…” Sophia looked over her shoulder, then leaned in conspiratorially. “There is no bonnet. Well, I suppose there is, technically, but in this case, ‘bonnet’ refers to a place I want you to see.”

 

As Arista had never before had a real young lady for a friend, she had no idea if this was normal behavior. Sophia looked positively giddy with excitement, while Arista only felt shivers of apprehension. “I’m not sure I understand.”

 

“I can read people pretty well, and I think that you and I are very similar.” Arista flashed back briefly to a different Sinclair sibling who’d said the exact same thing to her. Sophia guided her to the same bench she and Grae had sat on the night before. “What are your thoughts on arranged marriages? About women not holding positions of power? About the poor being treated as garbage, while the rich walk over them on the way to the opera?” Arista’s head swam as Sophia fired off the questions one after another.

 

As Sophia waited expectedly for her answers, Arista realized that the girl actually wanted to know her thoughts. “I think unless you are a rich, overly pompous man, you get no choices in life,” she finally said.

 

“Exactly!” Sophia clapped her hands together and Arista jumped. “See, I knew we were similar in our views. If you promise not to tell Mother, I have something to show you.” Sophia had leaned in close and dropped her voice to a whisper. “This afternoon. We’ll take a carriage ride together, and I’ll introduce you to several like-minded friends. I think you will fit right in.” Sophia grinned and her eyes sparkled.

 

Arista had no idea what she had agreed to with her silence, but it made Sophia happy—and that, strangely, made Arista happy. Sophia reached out and took Arista’s hand. “I’m so very glad that you’re here, Ana.”

 

Ana.

 

And just like that, Arista was reminded how much of her life was a lie.

 

 

 

 

 

Sophia tucked Arista’s arm into hers and they walked around to the street entrance of the garden. “I asked Tomas to bring the carriage around earlier, so we’re all ready to go.” Outside, in the bright light of day, Arista felt too exposed. People walked by as they waited for Tomas, and they made eye contact and smiled at her. They saw her. No disguise hid her features. She was neither Lady A nor an urchin boy. She was Arista.

 

“Maybe we can do this another day?” she asked Sophia. Unease prickled over her skin.

 

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