“Charlotte does not know about my feelings for her, nor do I want her to. So I am not going to change what we do as friends because of the plans her grandparents are making.”
“Do the LeClercs know where she is now? Do they know whom she is with?” Rosette had stopped the finger-wagging.
“‘Ask me no questions, I will tell you no fibs,’” Gabriel said. He reached for the basket. “Oliver Goldsmith, She Stoops to Conquer.”
“‘A froward man soweth strife: and a whisperer separateth chief friends.’” Rosette handed him his gray top hat. “Proverbs 16:28, the Bible.”
* * * * *
Lottie heard the tight, clipped voices of Gabriel and Rosette as she and Justine waited outside their home. If Justine overheard the tension, she prattled on as if she didn’t. When Gabriel walked out, the coil of anxiety in Lottie’s chest unwound. She feared the conversation between him and his mother might mean the visit would not happen. And the shame that now warmed her cheeks was because she could not deny that she cared more about seeing Gabriel than the children they were going to see.
“So, ladies, are we ready?” He glanced from one to the other. “I will be a thorn between two roses today.”
No thorn would be so well suited. His black frock coat wrapped itself around his shoulders and down the length of his body to his waist, where it tucked in right below his partially buttoned waistcoat. A long navy-blue silk cravat, fastened with a pin, wrapped around his neck and fell down the length of his chest.
Justine touched the brooch at the neck of her peach dress then smoothed the layers of curls that grazed her shoulders and spilled from her pale-green bonnet. She looked up at Gabriel then quickly cast her eyes downward. “How very kind of you,” she said.
How very coquettish of Justine. Perhaps she was practicing her flirtations on Gabriel…not that she would ever admit such a thing. Lottie almost asked her if she had missed that lesson in their deportment class, but what gave her pause was Gabriel’s reaction. Instead of joining Lottie in a mutual rolling of eyes over Justine’s obvious, cloying behavior, he didn’t even look in her direction.
“Three roses,” Lottie said. “Agnes is joining us.”
He lowered the basket, setting it on a concrete step. “I see.”
Gabriel’s lack of confusion coupled with his lack of enthusiasm stunned Lottie. Agnes had never before joined them on a visit to the orphanages. Why wasn’t he at least curious as to why she was today?
Justine, who could fill gaps until they choked with information, provided the unasked answer. “Lottie’s grandparents are visiting Judge Rost and his wife, Louise. They finished remodeling their plantation in Destrehan and invited the LeClercs.” She locked her arm with Lottie’s. “My parents said Lottie could stay in the city with us. And we’ve stayed so busy preparing for her birthday party—haven’t we, Lottie?—that I can hardly believe it is already Sunday afternoon. And Agnes is coming because she wants to be sure nothing happens to Lottie today, because her grandparents will be back tonight.” If Justine’s story had a cover, she could have closed it with “The End.”
While Gabriel’s attention was focused on Justine, Lottie focused on him and waited for a reaction. But how could she look at him and not see the man who made her wish it was his arm linked with hers? If only she knew at what point in their friendship she’d begun to think of him differently. When had she begun to worry that standing next to him would make her insides melt like candle wax until she puddled on the ground? When had she begun to understand that her heart would ache? If she only knew and could return to that time, she could retreat.
This morning, the relief of knowing she would be able to join Gabriel at the girls’ home without the nagging worry of her grand-parents finding out soured with disappointment.
Gabriel surveyed the street. “So where is Agnes?”
Lottie peered in the direction she expected to see Agnes appearing. “She should be here soon. The three of us left my house at the same time.”
She untied her bonnet—a selection by Justine, whose daughters might one day resemble walking peacocks if left up to her. White, with lavender ribbons and white feathers, the bonnet crushed the looped hair she had allowed Justine to gather. Another ridiculous decision by Lottie in their preparations for church. She welcomed the breeze that cooled her scalp and regretted not having her parasol so she could free herself from the annoying headpiece.
“Agnes stopped so many times on the way, she finally told us to run along and she would meet us.” Lottie avoided including that what continued to interfere with their walk was people who wanted to talk about the upcoming party.