“Where did it come from?” I asked.
“It was my mother’s—an engagement present from a wealthy, much older man. He died two weeks before they were to be married. She cared for him deeply and was still in grief when her family pushed her to accept an offer from my father, a country pastor. Theirs was not a happy marriage. After my father died and she was on her deathbed, she passed the necklace on to me. She knew I would never marry.” As she spoke, Wiggles unconsciously stroked the side of her face, where the bright red splash of a birthmark once dominated. “It’s the only thing of my mother’s I have left. I was close to selling it before I found work with your family.”
“I’ve never seen you wear it,” I said.
“On what occasion would I ever wear something like this? I spend my life in this tiny cottage or at the church in town. Jewels are not de rigueur.” She laughed, but it was hollow. “Besides, I’m just a governess. I will never be anything more.”
I had always seen Wiggles through the eyes of a child—she was my adored, devoted governess. It never entered my mind that she might have wanted something else for her life. Perhaps she and I were more alike than I realized.
“Do you remember our lessons on ancient myths? The word for emeralds comes from the ancient Greek smaragdos.”
“Green stone,” I said.
“That’s right. The Egyptians thought they signified something. Do you remember what?”
In the deep, dark recesses of my mind, there was a spark of light. “A sign of rebirth?”
“Very good, Charlotte.” She slid the box towards me. “I want you to take the necklace.”
“I can’t possibly! I would never dream of it.”
She closed her hands over mine, as if to hold me still and make me focus. “You must take it. I have no one to pass it on to. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. Sell the emerald when you get to the New World. Use the money to make your own path and live the life I never had.”
I felt tears well up. The bond I felt with Wiggles touched me deeply. Perhaps we had found something in each other that had been missing in our own lives. She was the doting mother figure I never had, and in turn I was her only family. The thought made me open my mind to what she was proposing. For one brief moment it felt as though a door had opened, and I caught a glimpse of another world. It was an untamed place full of light and colour and as different from the streets of London as I could imagine. I briefly saw myself there, living as an independent woman. But just as easily as it opened, the door swung shut. I had no skills or training, and even if I did, no one would hire a gentlewoman. It was not to be. I had obligations to live up to, and life had suddenly become full of urgency and uncertainty. I pulled my hands from beneath hers to dab the corners of my eyes.
“At least go to the meeting and hear about the plan,” she said. “They’re letting women attend just this one time. Give it a chance.”
I didn’t want to spoil Wiggles’s dreams for me. Not yet. As much as I loved and respected her, a future in the colonies was her fantasy, not mine. I had no real interest in sailing to the other side of the earth and starting a new life, but I would leave that news for another day, a day when I was betrothed and could return her beautiful necklace. Of course, that would depend on Hari’s plan working.
Chapter Seven
As I left Wiggles’s cottage, it began to rain, but by the time I arrived at Dr. Randolph’s, the deluge had abated to a fine drizzle that coated the streets with a slick film. When Hari emerged from the building, she was leaning heavily on the doctor, and his arm moved to her waist as he guided her to the coach.
He was a slim man, pale, with intense dark eyes and a neatly trimmed moustache. Handsome, I thought, but there was an aura of vulnerability about him. Before he closed the door against the damp, late-afternoon chill, he took Hari’s limp hand and pressed it to his lips, holding it for some time before letting go.
I hoped his attentions meant there was good news, but Hari wasn’t smiling. She slumped against the cushioned seat of the coach and closed her eyes. I had thought to tell her about Wiggles’s idea, even as I discounted it, but her expression made me think twice.
“How did it go?” I asked tentatively.
Hari just shook her head.
I remembered George’s thoughtless comment at the party about her responsibility to give Charles children. She must be under so much pressure, I reasoned, and I certainly wasn’t helping.
“I hope you know that if there’s anything you need, you just have to ask.”
“I’m fine, really, Charlotte. It’s you that we have to worry about.” She straightened a little. “I’ve been thinking that I should send George a note—an expression of regret that there was a misunderstanding between the two of you. Something conciliatory.”
“A misunderstanding?” I
