“Alice came into the nursery.” Camellia was smiling, but it felt like she was telling on me, hoping Charles would chastise me for wandering the house unsupervised.
“My niece sleeps almost as much as my sister,” I said, taking my seat to the left of Charles while Camellia sat on his right. I had thought the seat would be reserved for Catherine, even though she wasn’t joining us. “I was hoping to catch her awake and finally make her acquaintance.”
Charles pressed his lips together. “I’m sure it will happen soon enough. Though, I hardly see her between Camellia and the nanny. They both dote on her.”
“But nothing can replace the love of a father,” I said warmly, hoping he understood the not so subtle meaning.
Hazel should be cared for by her parents. By her mother and her father.
I’d been brought to the house to speak with Catherine, but I wouldn’t mind speaking with Charles, as well. It seemed he needed someone to point out to him that he was no longer running his home.
“Certainly,” Camellia agreed. “Hazel is fortunate to have a father who looks out for her interests and does what is best for her regardless.”
Charles smiled at his sister, and I suddenly didn’t feel so hungry.
I didn’t know what I’d expected to find upon arriving in Yorkshire, but it wasn’t this.
A nurse who dosed my potentially insane sister to sleep while her daughter was cared for by her sister-in-law and her husband encouraged the whole mess? I never ever could have predicted that.
“How many visitors do you all receive out here?” I asked.
Charles seemed taken aback by the question and frowned. “I’m not sure. I go into town for meetings occasionally and am always sure to call on a few acquaintances when I—”
“Here,” I repeated. “How many people come and visit at the house?”
He sliced off a piece of roast, took a bite, and shook his head. “No one aside from you and Camellia for a good while.”
“And the neighbors once,” Camellia added. “Just after I arrived the Wilds came to welcome me to the area.”
“The Wilds?”
Camellia laughed, grabbing her brother’s arm at some private joke. “That is their name.”
“Margaret and Abigail Wilds,” Charles clarified. “They live two miles up the road. Though, we usually pay them visits. They are older and don’t like to get out more than they have to.”
“Well, that isn’t exactly true. They go on walks all the time, they just don’t like to walk over here.”
“Camellia,” Charles warned.
His sister rolled her eyes at him. “It’s true. The women are fit enough for their ages, they just like to play at being feeble when it is time to visit.”
“Which reminds me,” Charles said, his voice trailing off.
Camellia turned to him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Then, she groaned. “It can’t be time again. I do not want to go, Charles. They can’t prepare a piece of toast between them, and they refuse to keep a cook. I could barely swallow whatever it was they served us last time.”
“Some kind of wild game is my guess.”
“Whatever it was, I swore I’d never let it touch my lips again,” Camellia said, shaking her head. “I won’t go.”
I cleared my throat, drawing their attention to me. “I’m sorry, but you won’t go where?”
Camellia smiled again, and I finally realized why the woman put me off. She smiled at me the way adults used to smile at me as a girl.
She tilted her head to the side and smiled as if I was a child playing dress up, and she had to indulge me.
Camellia was Charles’ older sister, and Charles was several years older than Catherine, which meant Camellia had to be forty at least, though I would have placed her even older than that. Still, I did not deserve to be treated as a child simply because I was young, and I would make sure Camellia learned that lesson one way or another.
“To the Wilds’ home for dinner,” Camellia said. “They invite us to dinner once a week, at least, and it is always horrible. I’ve feigned illness the last few times—”
“Which only caused them to send along a horrid smelling soup to relieve you.” Charles chuckled.
Camellia held her nose at the memory. “I think they foraged for the ingredients in the bogs. It smelled stagnant.”
Charles smiled as he took another bite of roast, shaking his head. “They are thoughtful ladies, but unusual. Despite their eccentricities, they come from a good old family that has resided in this area for generations. If they live almost as if they are impoverished, it is their choice to do so.”
“Sisters I take it, since they share a name?”
“Yes and unmarried,” Camellia said. “They grew up in that house, inherited it from their parents, and have never lived anywhere else. Charles told me he never sees them go into the village for anything, and no one ever comes to visit them. We are their only source of outside interaction.”
We.
It seemed strange that Camellia had joined herself together with her brother as a unit. She’d only been staying with Charles and Catherine for a couple of months, yet she had made herself quite comfortable in their world.
“Luckily, you won’t have to deal with them once you return home,” I said cheerfully.
All at once, the mood in the room shifted.
Every scrape of silverware against the plates was an explosion of sound, and the air felt like it had been pulled from the room. I’d meant for my words to make Camellia uncomfortable, but not like this. They’d had a much larger impact than I’d expected, and I wanted to know why.
“I’m sorry,” I said, breaking the silence. “I’m not sure what I—”
“Camellia is free to stay as long as she likes,” Charles said, interrupting me. “Catherine and I invited her here to live with us, and as long as she is pleased with the arrangement, so are we.”
Camellia
