Forgiven (29 page)

I pulled up on the reins. Lost in memories, I didn’t realize that Ghost and I had reached the far end of the trail. I was surprised to feel the fresh sting in my throat, as if I’d stood in Mama’s doorway only moments ago. Across the rolling granite outcrops I spied the gray ocean, the ocean that I hated, the thieving sea. Light danced on the water, scattering sparks that made me blink. A gull keened; how lonely a sound that was, and how deeply I felt it, sadness like a weight pulling me down. My hands tightened on the reins.

I turned back to my season and the preparations. Kitty would have to do it all.

Kitty. Dear Kit. We both lived in Newport year-round. We went to the same schools, moved in the same circles. But I knew what a closer look revealed. Kitty’s parlor never wanted for callers. Her tray was filled with calling cards by the end of each Sunday afternoon. Our parlor had been empty for a long time, long before Mama’s accident.

Or disappearance. Or departure. Or . . . I’d heard so many euphemisms for it this past year.

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, as if that might bring Mama back. I missed her even though I was tarred by her behavior. Even though I feared we were alike.

I clicked my tongue at Ghost and we set off for home.

Uncle John had made some “discoveries.” Papa’s words: “only a chance, mind you.” But it was a chance to find her. A chance was all we needed.

My shoulders grew stiff despite Ghost’s easy gait. Newport society was unforgiving. By going west with Papa I could miss my chance to make Newport see me differently, to see me for me, and not as my mother’s daughter. I’d miss friends who hadn’t seen me since Mama disappeared and who thought I was tainted by her scandal.

Friends like Edward, who I hoped was more than a friend. He wasn’t due back from New York before mid-June. Edward’s dark hair and soft eyes floated in my daydreams. Last summer, at one of the first cotillions of the season, he asked me to dance. After that short waltz, I was smitten. My cheeks burned now, and my heart beat faster as I remembered Edward choosing me over all the other girls.

He could be a perfect beau. But we made no lasting promises. No promises could have been made before now, anyway, before my season and my introduction into proper society. And now . . . Now everything was uncertain.

I inhaled deeply, pulling the faintly briny air into my lungs.

Maybe I’d driven Mama away. I was ashamed of Mama, and so angry at her. Those paintings frightened me. After that day, I’d hardened against her. Maybe it was my fault that she’d gone; here was my chance to make it all right.

Ghost, sensing my emotions again, picked up his pace to a trot. Finding Mama, bringing her home, and making her well could solve everything. I would be absolved. We could plan the season together, and I could have my debut. And Edward. Society would forgive her, and I could forgive myself. Going west with Papa and bringing Mama home could make everything right.

The sun was low in the west as Ghost and I approached the end of our ride. I turned him in at the gate that led back to the stable. As he trotted through the narrow file and I leaned to avoid an overhanging branch, a sudden kick of sea breeze flicked the branch at Ghost and he bolted.

I hung on, caught unprepared, my chest tight with fear.