“Show me,” she said. “It’s all right. I can take it.”
Reluctantly I passed the notice to her.
“No doubt his title will follow soon,” she said calmly after she had read it.
“He may be sorry if the Committee of Privileges rejects his appeal to let the oldest boy be next in line for the title.”
“No, he won’t.” Hari took a sip of her tea. “He’s counting on Mary to provide a legitimate heir. She’s produced three healthy boys already.”
She was right. Of course. I just hoped she realized that despite what she’d lost, she’d gained so much freedom. “Good riddance to Charles. He’s well out of our lives. You have no one’s expectations you have to live up to anymore.”
“It’s a curious feeling and strangely liberating to hear this.” She raised her chin and met my gaze. “For so long, I’ve felt trapped in a life that was not of my own making. I married for wealth and position, certainly not love. In some ways, having Charles divorce me feels like I’ve sloughed off a huge burden. For the first time I’ve started to think about what would make me happy.”
I reached across the table and put my hand on hers. She smiled and did not try to pull away, and then began to talk about what she might do in Victoria, open a fashionable dress shop or, maybe hats and gloves were more the thing in the colonies.
“It’s a new beginning and this time it’ll be on my terms. Perhaps I’ll marry again, but if I do, it’ll be for all the right reasons.”
“Hari, you don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”
She squeezed my hand. “Well, this brings me to the subject of you and John.”
“Yes?”
“If you want to pursue that relationship and see where it takes you, you have my blessing.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I was drawn to John and had played with the idea of marriage to him. I was still trying to decide what I would say if he asked, but I never expected Hari to be so open to the possibility. After all the secrets between us, it felt like we were truly starting over. Gratitude and love for my sister swept over me, bringing tears.
Over the next few days, Hari’s health and spirits improved dramatically, and we made the best of our island stopover, packing each day with splendid outings and wondrous sightseeing. We both abandoned our corsets—a first for Hari—and donned loose-fitting walking dresses and boots. The weather stayed cool but sunny, and we tramped for miles along the coast and over the hills, stopping often to marvel at the unparalleled sights, including the exotic array of birds and sea life. The highlight was the penguin colony, where we stayed for hours, laughing at the antics of these most unusual flightless birds.
That week, it felt as if the past years had disappeared, and Hari and I were children once more, free to roam and discover at will. We were just two sisters, sharing old jokes and retelling the stories of our girlhood. We answered to no one. They were priceless days that I would treasure in the weeks to come.
And then, before we knew it, it was our last night in Port Stanley. We were due to weigh anchor that evening, as soon as the captain had finished loading the fresh food for the final leg of the journey, and Hari and I decided that we would no longer hide in our cabin at dinner.
“Everyone will have heard of Charles’s marriage by now. Let the gossips have their day,” she said. “I no longer care.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. After we dressed in our finest gowns, we entered the dining room. Lady Persephone watched our progress through the room, but she made no offer to have us join her, Sir Richard, and the Burks. A few others looked up, surprised to see us in their midst after so long, but for the most part, they were engrossed in their own company.
A waiter beckoned us to a table for two. “Good evening, ladies. The captain asked me to invite all first- and second-class passengers to a dance party on the main deck after dinner. A post-storm celebration. In the meantime, please enjoy the special supper he brought on board for tonight—Falkland Island game hens in butter cream sauce.”
“Shall we go to the dance?” I asked Harriet. “It’s been so long since we’ve been to a party.” The last one we had attended was Hari’s infamous soirée that she had christened “A Fairy’s Garden Party.” That night had changed our lives forever, but tonight we had so much to celebrate.
“I’ve never seen you so excited about a party,” Harriet said, a small smile on her lips. “You usually hate polite conversation.”
“I guess I’ve changed,” I replied. I was buzzing with excitement and for once, I pushed my dinner away, anxious for the fun to start. I waited for Hari to finish, heartened at her new robust appetite, but underneath the table my toes were tapping.
When we made our way to the main deck, it was already filled with an assortment of chairs and stools set in a semicircle. In the middle an odd group of musicians was preparing to strike up the first tune. I recognized their faces as fellow passengers and my heart quickened at the thought of them coming together to put on a dance. A few large, wooden chairs stood empty in the back row, and we claimed them as the volunteer band started a fiery jig.
I was so engrossed in the music that I didn’t notice John approach and extend his hand. “May I have this dance, Charlotte?” he asked,
