Charlotte didn’t know that Araminta fancied Scipio, and the other way round as well. She didn’t know that Araminta knew by whom Sarah was pregnant and under what conditions. She didn’t know the whispered conversations that the two sisters had under the eves nightly, or as often as they could manage it, as Sarah stitched away on quilts and Araminta pieced together clothing for Charlotte’s children after the models in the London and Paris pictorial magazines. (Araminta once copied the dress of a visiting lady from New York, merely from the glimpses captured while serving her tea and waiting on table at breakfast and luncheon.)
She didn’t know that Scipio had had harsh words with his sweetheart about what might be done about Sarah’s situation, if not her condition then her condition of life.
She didn’t know that Araminta looked out the garret window at the North Star.