Charlotte

Chapter Three

A gentle rap on the door awoke Charlotte from her slumber. The room had grown considerably darker as the sky glowed red due to the setting sun. The rap sounded again. Getting up, Charlotte moved slowly toward the door. Opening it, she laid eyes on the maid from earlier.
"Excuse me miss, but his lordship requests your presence for dinner downstairs. No need to change."
"Right. Thank you-" she paused, not knowing the maid's name.
"Mary, my lady."
"Mary. Please inform his lordship that I will be down shortly." Turning to leave, she sent the young woman a warm smile.

Saying that the dining room was grand was a complete understatement. It was lavish. It so happened that Charlotte was the last one down that evening so both Mr Hilton and Eliza were already seated. She was so quiet upon entering that it was a moment or two before her presence was noticed. However, when it was, Mr Hilton stood abruptly, gave a subtle bow and motioned to the chair opposite her sister.

The atmosphere in the room was palpable. Mr Hilton tried to remedy the tension that emanated of the two sisters, by trying to engage in small talk but only Charlotte complied. This technique only worked while the conversation lasted. Once it had dissipated, the tension rose again.

Dinner continued like this until just after the last course had been served. Eliza hadn't uttered a word to Charlotte since the encounter in the drawing room earlier that day. Eliza's hazel eyes held a deep bitterness within them. It was at the moment that the bitterness had reached its most evident, did Eliza finally speak out.

"Charlotte, why is it that we are in this position?"

"You know as well as I about our current situation," replied Charlotte cautiously.

"Seeing as father always favoured you, surely you know his reason behind the will?"
"I do not know his true motives, Eliza." Charlotte looked away in order to collect herself before facing the full force of Eliza's anger.

"Surely, surely, Charlotte you must have known what the will stated. Yes, of course. So why didn't you change his views? Father always loved you more than he ever loved me. It should have been you who made him see reason. You should have put forward the consequence of us both being left destitute. You should have changed his mind; or at least have been on that blasted boat with them, so it would only be I that would have to find a new life rather than dragging you along with me, so you can ruin my life once again!" Eliza's volume had escalated throughout this final statement, to the point she was shouting across the table at her sister. In a further fit of rage, Eliza grabbed the half-full wine glass and threw it toward Charlotte. Her aim was off and it shattered along with the mirror it hit behind Charlotte, wine staining the tablecloth in the process.

She was drunk. When this realistaion hit Charlotte, she stood up to help her sister despite her offences. This plan was abandoned, however, when Eliza was about to lash out again and Mr Hilton ordered an unwilling servant to escort Eliza back to her room.

Collapsing back into her seat, Charlotte gave up in defeat. She felt ashamed, not due to her sister's accusations, but her actions. The damage she had already caused was unaccountable, Charlotte wouldn't have been surprised if Mr Hilton turned them out of the house the same night.

He didn't.

As anxiety crept into Charlotte's eyes, Mr Hilton gave her a reassuring smile before dispelling her worries completely by simply saying, "You need not worry about this. Nothing will change, I promise. You should retire, you look done through and you have an exciting evening tomorrow."
With that, Charlotte gave a quick smile and curtsy to show her thanks and left to the warm and safe enclosure of her new room.

The next morning, at breakfast, Mr Hilton announced that they were to attend a ball that evening. Eliza jumped up in surprise and, forgetting the agreeable countenance she was expected to portray by society, ran out of the room blabbering about dresses and hair pieces.
Charlotte shook her head in disbelief toward her sister. She had a sneaking suspicion that Mr Hilton was suppressing a laugh at her own reaction of her sister's priorities.
With the correct decorum, Charlotte excused herself from the table and while making her way upstairs, silently panicked about what she was to wear.

The evening rolled around much sooner than Charlotte would have liked. The ball was as tiresome as Charlotte had expected. She was worn out by Eliza's constant ramblings about dresses earlier in the day. She knew no one beyond her own party and was sat at the side of the room silently contemplating the reasons why she was there.
Only one dance was offered to her the whole night and that was from Mr Hilton. He acted in the most amiable and gentlemanly fashion, with such care and attention one would pay while courting the partner.
They left soon after Charlotte's dance but during the trip home, Eliza seemed incredibly bitter. Whenever Charlotte or Mr Hilton tried to make conversation with her, she would just brush off the comments. Charlotte even resorted to asking about the many me she had occasion to dance with. Even after Eliza's favourite topic of conversation had been mentioned, she still wasn't her loquacious self.

When the carriage finally came to a halt, Eliza stepped out as soon as the footman opened the door, almost as if she would perish if she remained in their presence much longer. Despite Mr Hilton's offer to join him in the library, Charlotte politely excused herself and retired to her room. Charlotte was once again at the verge of exhaustion, not only from the ball but from Eliza's ever-changing moods. That morning Eliza was all smiles and joy but it had changed yo cold stares and bitter remarks by that evening.

The fatigue she felt didn't hinder the fact that most of that night was spent tossing and turning in her bed. Nightmares of the past haunting her.
Charlotte gave up on sleep and, wrapping a shawl around herself, headed quietly through the house. Slipping through the library door, her feet hit the damp grass as she made her way through the gardens.