Tangled Webs (20 page)

“You look beautiful, miss.”

She looked…very much unlike herself. Arista missed the rough feel of her wool trousers and the comfort of her oversized jacket, which gave her the anonymity she craved. Things with Grae
would not be in such a state of discord, had she been allowed to keep up her disguise. But she couldn’t go around dressed as a lad when she was the guest of a family.

Becky led her down the short hallway and opened the door. Arista stepped into the room and everything went silent. Three pairs of eyes were staring at her. Had Grae told his family about
her?

“Good morning, Ana,” Marguerite said graciously. “Please come in and join us.” Arista tried desperately to remain calm. It appeared he had not.

Arista sat in the chair Wilson pulled out for her. She had avoided taking meals with the family so far, unsure of how to act in such a civilized and normal setting. Becky had taught her the
graces of a lady, but they did not include dining.

Heat climbed her cheeks, and she didn’t dare look up from her plate. But what she saw there only caused her more unease. There were so many utensils. Why did anyone need three forks to
eat, when one would suffice?

Arista curled her fingers into her palms and held her hands in her lap to hide the trembling. She could stare down grown men, yet facing a table setting put the fear of the devil in her. If she
wasn’t so terribly uneasy, she might have laughed at the absurdity. Nic
would
have laughed. He would have declared all of this as pompous as hell, tossed the utensils aside, and eaten
with his fingers. It wasn’t like they’d had the luxury of eating with anything
but
their fingers growing up.

“How are you this morning, Ana? Are you feeling better?” Sophia asked. She sat across from Arista and looked bright as sunshine in a pale yellow dress. “Maybe after breakfast
we can sit in the garden and gossip? You can tell me what goes on outside of London! Father never lets Grae tell me tales of his adventures.” Sophia playfully poked her father, who held up
his hands in surrender.

“Those tales are not for the ears of young ladies.” Mr. Sinclair smiled at Arista. “Last year, Sophia dressed herself as a boy and snuck onto one of my ships, under the guise
of a new cabin boy. They were halfway down the Thames before she was discovered.”

Innocent-looking Sophia had done that? Arista’s mouth fell open, and Sophia giggled. “I wanted a grand escapade, like in the books I’ve read.”

“Never should have taught the girl to read,” Mr. Sinclair said, though there was nothing but love in his smile.

“That’s enough,” Marguerite chided with a smile. “We have a guest at our table. Ana, what are your plans? Will you stay in London after your visit?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered. Finally, one truth in the sea of lies. “As soon as things are…settled…I plan to leave with Becky.” She knew that
they would assume what would be “settled” was her late husband’s estate, and not her business with Wild. Mr. Sinclair nodded and smiled at her explanation, but she could feel his
assessing gaze.

“Where will you go?” Sophia asked. Her eyes were wide with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to travel, to see the world.”

“I’m not sure,” she lied. Why was she keeping her dream of going to India a secret? Would it matter if they knew?

“Perhaps we can discuss all of the places, and I can help you decide,” Sophia said.

“That would be fun.” Except she already knew where she wanted to go, and had hoped that it would be with Grae, on one of his ships. That might be difficult if he continued to avoid
her.

Wilson set a covered dish in front of her and Arista seized upon the interruption. She dug her fork into a steaming meat-filled pastry and concentrated on taking a bite. It still made her
uneasy, talking about getting away from London—even in the relative safety of the Sinclairs’ home.

“Well, there are many ships that sail all over the world, my dear. When you’re ready to go, I’m sure we can assist with proper arrangements.” Mr. Sinclair nodded his
approval at his wife’s words and picked up his fork.

“Oh, and I
must
take you to the bonnet shop, Ana,” Sophia said from across the table. Her eyes glinted with excitement, and something very close to mischief. Arista smiled and
nodded, not at all excited about bonnet shopping.

The family finished their meal with more conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair about trade routes and finding new crew members. Mrs. Sinclair had as many opinions as her husband, and Arista
watched in fascination. Mr. Sinclair took her suggestions to heart. Even when they disagreed at one point, a spirited debate ensued instead of a fight. Arista waited with bated breath.

“Your idea is ridiculous,” Mrs. Sinclair said at last, throwing her napkin down.

Every muscle in Arista’s body tensed. Now the anger would come. The destruction. Something must have shown on her face, because Mr. Sinclair looked at her with concern.

“Are you okay, Ana? I apologize for the business talk, it must all be very boring for you.”

And just like that, the tension in the room disappeared. No one had used fists. There was nothing thrown; nothing broken.

“Usually father and Grae talk for hours after breakfast,” Sophia said, rolling her eyes. “But my brother had to get back to the ship for something early this
morning.”

“That boy works too hard,” Marguerite said, though Arista could hear the pride in her voice. “Just like someone else I know.” Her pointed gaze wandered to her husband,
but it turned soft when their eyes met.

“Well, he must have had something important to see to, as we had plans to go over a new route I’ve been studying.” Disappointment shone in his eyes, and the pastry Arista had
eaten sat like a lump of coal in her guilty stomach.

“If you will excuse me, I’d like to get some air in the garden,” Arista said, rising to her feet.

“I’ll come with you,” Sophia said, pushing back her chair. “And maybe later we can go look at the bonnets I told you about.”

Not once had Arista mentioned that she needed a bonnet, yet Sophia seemed almost fixated on the errand. When they got to the garden, Arista thought, she would plead a headache and go back to her
room. Once they were out of earshot, however, Sophia wound her arm through Arista’s and pulled her out into the garden through a pair of open patio doors. “You must think I am frivolous
to go on about a bonnet, but…” Sophia looked over her shoulder, then leaned in conspiratorially. “There
is
no bonnet. Well, I suppose there is, technically, but in this
case, ‘bonnet’ refers to a place I want you to see.”

As Arista had never before had a real young lady for a friend, she had no idea if this was normal behavior. Sophia looked positively giddy with excitement, while Arista only felt shivers of
apprehension. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I can read people pretty well, and I think that you and I are very similar.” Arista flashed back briefly to a different Sinclair sibling who’d said the exact same thing to
her. Sophia guided her to the same bench she and Grae had sat on the night before. “What are your thoughts on arranged marriages? About women not holding positions of power? About the poor
being treated as garbage, while the rich walk over them on the way to the opera?” Arista’s head swam as Sophia fired off the questions one after another.

As Sophia waited expectedly for her answers, Arista realized that the girl actually wanted to know her thoughts. “I think unless you are a rich, overly pompous man, you get no choices in
life,” she finally said.

“Exactly!” Sophia clapped her hands together and Arista jumped. “See, I knew we were similar in our views. If you promise not to tell Mother, I have something to show
you.” Sophia had leaned in close and dropped her voice to a whisper. “This afternoon. We’ll take a carriage ride together, and I’ll introduce you to several like-minded
friends. I think you will fit right in.” Sophia grinned and her eyes sparkled.

Arista had no idea what she had agreed to with her silence, but it made Sophia happy—and that, strangely, made Arista happy. Sophia reached out and took Arista’s hand.
“I’m so very glad that you’re here, Ana.”

Ana.

And just like that, Arista was reminded how much of her life was a lie.

S
ophia tucked Arista’s arm into hers and they walked around to the street entrance of the garden. “I asked Tomas to bring the carriage
around earlier, so we’re all ready to go.” Outside, in the bright light of day, Arista felt too exposed. People walked by as they waited for Tomas, and they made eye contact and smiled
at her. They saw her. No disguise hid her features. She was neither Lady A nor an urchin boy. She was Arista.

“Maybe we can do this another day?” she asked Sophia. Unease prickled over her skin.

Sophia looked so disappointed that Arista forced a smile and nodded. They would go. No one would ever know her like this. What harm could it do to act like a normal person just for one day?

The carriage pulled up to the curb and Tomas helped them in, and then she decided. Today she would simply be a girl, who wasn’t really shopping for a bonnet. Such a normal thing; it made
her smile. Soon they were rocketing down Tulane Street, and the panic began to recede.

Sophia appeared to be enjoying herself immensely—waving to a woman walking along the sidewalk, joking with the driver that he had gotten much better at avoiding pedestrians.

Arista watched her new friend with a mixture of awe and envy. It was clear that she had never suffered by anyone’s hand. She had never been so hungry that moldy bread was a feast. Her eyes
were full of an innocent light Arista’s had never had. But her openness made it hard to dislike her for her privileges. Sophia had a family, and was a highly valued member of it.

Arista, on the other hand, had been tossed aside. Unwanted. And maybe that’s what drew her to Sophia and the girl’s delight with the world.

“Tomas, a left here please,” Sophia said. They’d stopped at an intersection, and were waiting for a storage cart piled high with barrels to lumber through.

“Miss?” Tomas couldn’t be much older than Sophia, but he wore the same look of warning that her father had had at the breakfast table.

“I’ve changed my mind. I wish to shop on Cheapside instead.” Arista saw the gleam in the girl’s eyes; this detour had been the plan all along.

The cart passed through the intersection, and Tomas turned their carriage left onto Cheapside. The street was filled with carriages, and crowds of people made it impossible to see into the shop
windows from the street. Buildings loomed four or five stories high, and Arista could see the steeple of St. Paul’s Cathedral farther down the street. This area was familiar to her, as she
and Nic had often ventured here to pick pockets on days like this.

“Here is fine,” Sophia said after only a few more minutes. They both stepped down, while Tomas glared at Sophia.

“Isn’t that laundry shop where your sweet friend works near here?” Sophia asked. Arista looked over her shoulder and saw that Tomas’s cheeks were red. Still, his gaze
darted down the street to where Sophia pointed.

“Go. I promise to be right in this very spot, at two o’clock on the dot,” Sophia said.

Arista turned to the window of the closest shop and saw a display of bonnets and gloves. One bonnet in plain blue caught her eye. The lack of frills and decoration appealed to her. She gave
herself a mental shake when Sophia grabbed her hand. A bonnet? Since when did she care about such trivial things? She turned, expecting Sophia to start down the long street of shops, but instead
she pulled Arista to the edge of the sidewalk. When Arista glanced at her, Sophia’s eyes widened with excitement. Clearly she had not brought Arista to Cheapside just for bonnet shopping.

“Thank you,” Sophia said. She linked their arms together, then looked for an opening in the heavy traffic. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

Before she could argue or ask what Sophia had planned, the girl jumped off the sidewalk and dragged Arista with her. A hackney swerved around them and the driver swore loudly. Sophia paused,
then pulled Arista in front of a supply wagon horse, which looked half dead and moved as if it were, too. When they finally reached the relative safety of the opposite sidewalk, Arista let out a
pent-up breath. “Where are we going?”

This side of the street was just as crowded, and they were swept along for several feet before Sophia yanked Arista between two women and into an alley.

There was an immediate change in the air. Out of the sun, the air was cooler against her skin, but a dank odor wafted through the narrow space. Arista reached for her knife, remembering too late
that she had not put it on that morning before lunch. Every shadow seemed to move. She stopped and tugged on Sophia’s hand.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Arista’s gaze slid left, then right. This place would be where criminals hid in waiting. It’s where
she
would hide. The
sound of horse hooves on the cobblestones filtered through the maze of buildings, but there were no other people taking this shortcut.