Arranged: An Array Series (Book #1)(7)
I know why he created the note, but it didn’t make the soreness of my emotions go away. The foreign way George spoke to me in that letter had taken me aback. It was as though I’d imagined it all.
“I know now, Papa,” I replied.
Papa leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Yet you still look rattled from it, three years later.”
“No.”
“You are; it’s written all over your face,” Papa indicated.
I brought a hand to my cheek, as if it would wipe away any inkling that Papa was right. I had every right to be rattled by it. My best friend hadn’t contacted me for seven years, save for this letter.
“Papa, I’m fine,” I said firmly. “I promise. It’s not as though I haven’t any friends here.” I stood up, keeping a few stories on the desk and closing the box. “And speaking of friends, Eve is meeting me at the orphanage, so I must be off. Please tell Mrs. Reynolds there’s no need to bring me lunch.” I rounded the desk and placed a small kiss on Papa’s shiny head. “See you at dinner.”
I walked toward the door, then immediately turned around when I realized that I’d forgotten the stories. Reaching over Papa, I retrieved them and planted another kiss on his head.
“Have a good day, Papa!” I called, walking out into the foyer. Taking my lavender shawl off the coat rack, I wrapped it snug around my shoulders. I put the stories in my dress pocket and made for the door.
Warm spring air brushed my skin as I hopped down the four steps to the sideway. The familiar sounds of birds singing and wheels rattling off cobblestone streets filtered through the breeze. I put my hand in my dress pocket, feeling for the crisp edges of the letter; the one from George. It may have brought back sour memories, but it created some comfort for me because it was still the last piece of him I had left.
∞∞∞
“He does it on purpose, Ava,” Eve growled as we left the orphanage. “He tries to vex me every chance he gets. When I say ‘draw,’ he makes paper swans. When I say ‘Henry, we need to read,’ he pretends to forget the words. Are you sure you didn’t mean to leave him back at the other orphanage?”
I let out a soft gasp, placing my hand on my chest. “Why, Evelyn Pratt, that is the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say!”
Eve raised a brow and rolled her eyes. “Don’t over-exaggerate, first of all. Secondly, that’s not the meanest thing you’ve heard me say. Why, I remember saying, just last week, that Lady Josephine better start glancing in a mirror from time to time, lest men identify her as a man with that mustache she’s displaying.”
I burst into fits of laughter and held my stomach to try and control them.
“You’re truly horrible,” I told her. “When Henry acts up, he wants attention. That means he likes you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “He makes me feel blessed that I am an only child.”
We passed the only bakery in town and my stomach growled, making me regret not eating lunch.
“I appreciate you coming with me,” I said. “The girls love you. Harriet loves when you sing to her, and Sarah says she wants to be you when she grows up.” I noticed Eve smile. “I couldn’t teach them all by myself, so thank you.”
Eve patted me on the back. “No, thank Femme Fatale for me, because she gave me the patience to deal with the little…darlings.”
I chuckled. “Oh yes, I thank my lucky constellations for you every day, Eve. Who else would have taught me how to summon a man with a fan?”
“You’re an ungrateful brat, Ava Barlow,” Eve grumbled with a smirk. “I heard that Madame Gray’s boutique has new colored fabric and patterns. I think we should stop there first.”
I groaned. “So she can charge us a horse and carriage for something we could easily buy at Mr. Ryan’s shop?”
“She makes sophisticated gowns and lingerie for ladies of our—”
“Just because her name has ‘Madame’ in front of it,” I interrupted, “doesn’t mean her dresses are exclusive. They are expensive.”
Eve huffed and pushed a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “Fine, we’ll go to Mr. Ryan’s.” She scoffed. “But I warn you, I will complain the whole time if he doesn’t have what I need.”
“Who are you trying to impress so much?” I probed. If Eve were interested in someone of the opposite sex, it would be a miracle. She was beyond the word picky.
“Sadly, none,” she admitted. “Every man in Bampshire is an absolute bore.” She hushed and tugged on my sleeve. “Speaking of a bore, but a handsome one, look who’s coming our way.”
I glanced up to see Lord Owen Ashton walking across the narrow street toward us, his young daughter, Emma, in tow. I inhaled a sharp breath, bracing myself for an awkward conversation. Lord Ashton didn’t know how to hold a two-sided discussion very well.
“Ladies!” he greeted. “Good morning to you both. I hope we aren’t interrupting your outing, but Emma wanted to see you, Lady Ava.”
“Morning, Lord Ashton,” Eve replied. “And to you, little Miss Emma.” Emma curtsied in her soft yellow dress, blonde curls encompassing her face.
I crouched myself to Emma’s level. “How are you today, my Lady?”