The Ease of Time: A sapphic romance novel by Rowan Charlotte

Author:Rowan, Charlotte [Rowan, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spectrum Books
Published: 2023-12-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter twenty-two

O n our way back, I stay a few steps behind, just close enough to hear but not particularly eager to join Ann’s interrogation, led by Alma and their mother. The former’s enthusiastic questions grate me more than they should. I try and fail to ignore this ridiculous feeling.

Ann retells the story of her first meeting with the two men, the few outings that followed, and the promise they made of seeing each other again. Which brings us to now.

When Alma asks her sister why she sent a letter to Kenilworth, she then ponders with a grin if Ann really did not expect Twain to join, even just a little. Ann has the audacity to blush. I slow down to add more distance between us.

By the time I get to the house, some time after the Allanders, I find them in the parlour, still engaged with the same subject. So I immediately step back, grab my boots from the future—which Janet hid in the entrance cupboard—and make for the backdoor.

“Max?”

I freeze momentarily at Ann’s voice before resuming lacing my boots.

“Could we talk for a moment?” she continues.

I feel a sudden burst of irritation, not quite sure why.

“Later. I’m going to work in the garden.”

“I see…”

Ann looks at me a little longer while I struggle to lace my boots for some reason, then she returns to the parlour. I wrench the door open, stomping towards the growing patch of herbs and vegetables with an impression of déjà vu , and get to work, barely noticing what I’m doing, my mind drowning in questions.

Why am I that annoyed? Those two men could mean good things for the family. They look rich but decent. Twain is clearly interested in Ann. She would be able to provide for her mother and sisters. And it could open up their social circle, allowing Alma to meet a better match, maybe.

But. What would it mean for me? If Ann gets busy with wedding stuff, how are we supposed to solve my mystery? How am I supposed to go back?

There’s something else tugging at a corner of my mind, another disturbance I can’t name… But I dismiss it, holding on to the slight relief I feel at having found the probable reason for my reaction.

It doesn’t, however, give me any guidance as to what to do now.

Relentlessly, evening comes and Alma calls me to dinner. Unable to delay any longer, I gather my muddy tools and head back, ignoring all the concerned looks at my sudden silence. During dinner, I push the food around my plate and count the minutes until we’re free to leave the table.

As soon as Janet brings dessert, I stand up too abruptly and gather a few plates, heading for the kitchen. I look around helplessly, debating whether to return to the table or to disappear upstairs. My brain feels on fire. I don't know what to do.

So I roll up my sleeves, tugging them above my elbows, and plunge my arms into the bucket of water to clean plates, pans and knives, whatever I can find to distract myself.

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