The day before he was to leave, Maria and her family came to dinner at Barrington House, and his need to escape her proximity was reinforced – for their eyes met, and his world shuddered again, as a blush rose to her cheeks, and she looked away. He would not do this. He would not see her again, unless she called upon him, or some future emergency made it unavoidable – he would not act in a manner dishonourable, regardless of what his heart wished for.
When he departed London the following morning, he knew that he left his heart behind.
~~~~~
Charles’ words, during the wedding breakfast, had lodged in Maria’s heart and soul.
They were a gift beyond measure, even if she could never act on them. Somehow, they made it a little easier. Edmund was no different, paying her little attention, and seeming unsure, almost nervous in how he treated her, but she made herself be gracious, and tried to encourage him to spend more time with her. Things between them eased a little, but still, there was no joy in it, and she could not see that, upon their return to Myniard House, there would be any improvement in her life.
When she saw Charles, at dinner at Barrington House, she felt herself stumble, almost tripping on the rug beneath her feet as she entered the room. A blush rose to her cheeks as their eyes met, and the undeniable truth shone in his face for a second, before he replaced that expression with an ordinary smile of greeting. What was she doing? She was married – she had been foolish enough to listen to her mother, and marry for a ‘good title’ rather than for love. Now, too late, she understood her mistake. She would live with her choices, she would not disgrace herself, no matter what she wanted. But it hurt.
When he declared, during the evening’s conversation, that he was leaving London in the morning, Maria breathed a sigh of relief, even as her heart shattered at the thought of not seeing him again. It was better that way.
The next few weeks passed far too fast, whilst Lady Chester took the chance of being in London, with Maria present, to take her about on social visits. Maria went gladly – any excuse to stay in London, any excuse to avoid Myniard House, and the Dowager Countess. But, every night, when she lay in her cold bed, whether Edmund had visited her there or not, and closed her eyes, what came to mind was Charles – his face, and his words.
It was impossible that anything would ever happen, yet simply knowing that he cared helped.
When Hunter and Nerissa returned from their wedding trip, Maria made sure to spend time with Nerissa – wanting to assure herself of her sister’s happiness, and to take this last chance of being surrounded by family before she was drawn inexorably back to the nightmare of Myniard House.
One afternoon, as they sat in the warmth of Nerissa’s small private parlour, the sun streaming through the large windows, Maria dared to ask her sister the question that had been preying on her mind.
“Nerissa… I must ask…” Maria blushed, suddenly finding it difficult to speak the words she needed.
“Yes? What must you ask, Maria?”
“Nerissa, now that you are wed… are you happy? Happy in everything, I mean, including… in the bedchamber?” Nerissa stared at her a moment, a little shocked that Maria had asked, and wondering why, then laughed at the furious blush that was colouring Maria’s cheeks.
“Oh Maria, why are you looking so embarrassed? Don’t married ladies speak of these things all the time? But, in answer to your question, yes, I am happy, oh so very happy! I had heard women whisper of ‘the pleasures of the bedchamber’ of course – haven’t most young women heard things they shouldn’t? But I did not realise… mmmm… just how pleasant those things can be! And the ways to… well – I obviously lacked in imagination, before. But, surely, you know what I mean, for you have had months to discover these things, haven’t you. You might have warned me!”
Maria struggled to know what to say, for Nerissa’s admission had shaken her deeply – there was, it seemed from her words, far more to the experience than her life with Edmund had provided. Again, she envied her sister. Finally, she found words – words that would allow her to speak, without admitting the depressing state of her own marriage.
“But talking to you about such things before you were married would have been highly improper!”
Nerissa laughed again, a sound full of joy and genuine shared amusement.
“Maria! You always were the good girl, always doing what society says is right, so I expect that I should have anticipated that answer. But I was always the one who did not care overmuch for propriety – and I think that a helpful conversation on the subject before marriage would have been ideal. Don’t worry though, as you can tell, it has all worked out for the best. I am so, so happy with my life now – more than I ever imagined possible, just a few months ago. I hope that you are also happy, Maria?”
Maria took a deep breath. Lying was not something she liked to do, but she was about to do just that. She could not, in any way, disrupt Nerissa’s happiness. And if she admitted that she was far from happy in her own marriage, then Nerissa would be distressed – for Nerissa always genuinely cared for those around her.
“Oh yes, I am happy. Living at Myniard House has given me a new appreciation for the woods and fields – I think that I now understand far better why you were always rushing off to roam the countryside when we were younger.”
Nerissa looked at her a moment, and Maria prayed that, even if she saw through her deflection of the true question, she would be kind, and let it pass.
“Good, I would not like it if you were not happy. I must say, even when you used to go out and pick herbs and flowers, I never expected you to start liking the countryside – you were always so worried about getting your clothes and shoes dirty.”
“Well, we can all change, can’t we? Look at you – the toast of the Season, when mother always thought you too plain to be noticed. That’s a rather dramatic change, isn’t it?”
Nerissa laughed, shaking her head, and rang for tea.
“It is. I still don’t quite believe it myself. I will never forget mother’s face, that first day we went to Madame Beaumarais, and Madame told mother, directly, that she was blind, and could not see my potential. It was, I thought then, the best moment of my life.”
The conversation flowed on, and Maria buried her sadness inside. She would think more on Nerissa’s words later.
Chapter Six
As the carriage drew up before Myniard House, Maria shivered. Around her, the world was clothed in the rich gold tones of late summer, the flowers in full bloom, the crops ready to harvest, the sun high in the sky. Yet Myniard House itself seemed cold, ominous, looming over her like a threat. She turned to Edmund, who was smiling, oblivious to her unease.
“Are you glad to be back, Edmund?”
“I am, Maria – this is my home, far more so than the house in London. I look forward to some hunting, to riding across the Park and more. And I am sure that Mother will be delighted to see us.”
Maria nodded, unable to speak her true thoughts, and searched for something suitable to say.
“Perhaps… we could invite some visitors? Your hunting friends? We could bring social activities to us?”
Edmund looked at her as if she had gone mad.
“Are you suggesting a house party? Mother would never allow it – the very thought of all of those people disrupting the peace of the house…”
He sounded truly scandalised at the idea. Maria’s heart sank, and the very concept that this house contained any peace to disrupt brought the edge of a wry smile to her lips.
“Then perhaps you might host a hunt here, but everyone who attended could stay at the Inn? I am sure that you would enjoy the company hunting.”
And, thought Maria, I would find some way to spend time in the presence of those who came – simply to allow myself the sanity of converse with other people, outside those who live here!
Edmund appeared to consider, then nodded.
“That might be acceptable. And you are right, I woul
d enjoy company for a hunt, after these long weeks cramped up in London.”
Their conversation was brought to an end as the footman opened the carriage door, lowered the steps, and stood ready to assist them out. As Maria stepped onto the gravel, she shuddered, feeling again the chill of the shadow of the house, which seemed to reach out, to pull her in, draining any warmth and happiness from her life. She forced the fanciful thought aside, and lifted her chin, walking into the cold marble foyer with a determined step.
She refused to be afraid, or to believe that there was no hope for her life – but maintaining that determination was difficult.
The butler greeted them, his expression neutral, as always – she wondered what he really thought about the world, but suspected that he would never reveal such a thing.
“My Lord, my Lady – The Dowager Countess has asked that you join her in the parlour before dinner. Your rooms have been aired and readied, so that you may refresh yourselves before that time.”
“Thank you, Thompson.”
Maria hurried towards the stairs, glad of the reprieve of a few hours before she must face the Dowager. As she did so, she heard the second carriage, bearing her maid, and Edmund’s valet, draw up on the gravel. The relief of knowing that the one servant she actually trusted had arrived was great.
~~~~~
“Dressed like a London strumpet, I see. I should have expected you to comport yourself in such a disgraceful manner. It’s all of a piece with the rest of you.”
After the months in London, Maria had simply dressed as she would have for dinner, any evening at Wollstonefort House, or Chester House. She liked wearing beautiful clothes. She had not even considered how the Dowager would view it. She glanced at Edmund, but he appeared to either find his mother’s words acceptable, or to be choosing not to react. For a moment, tears pricked her eyes, and she wished to run from the room.
She did not. This was her home, however much she loathed it, and she had to at least try to make her place here.
“This is, my Lady, a subdued and respectable example of current fashion. Chosen specifically because I could not bring myself to wear the more daring and immodest styles.”
“I find that hard to countenance! Regardless, it is highly unsuitable for a respectable married woman. You dishonour my son by appearing a trollop. You will, from this point on, present yourself in a more appropriate fashion. Is that understood?”
The Dowager’s tone was harsh, as always. Maria swallowed, repressing her rage, and her distress. Experience had taught her that direct conflict gained her nothing.
“As you wish, my Lady.”
She settled onto the couch beside Edmund, who was behaving as if the conversation had not happened at all.
“So, mother, what has been happening here at Myniard whilst we have been trapped in the dreary confines of London?”
The Dowager glared at Maria before speaking.
“The harvests will be good – Edwards assures me that this year will, despite the colder than average summer, provide more profit than ever. The woods are well stocked with game, so your hunting will be good too. Other than that, little changes. The gossips in the town prattle on about every little thing – Lucy can never wait to tell me all of it, Lady Fremont is as eccentric as ever, maundering about the stars, the afterworld, hauntings and the like, and there have been some alarming incidents with highwaymen on the roads between here and London – you are lucky that you were not robbed!”
“Highwaymen? Surely not – none have been seen in this district for fifteen years or more.”
“Highwaymen. The mail coach was robbed just two weeks ago, not twenty miles from here.”
Edmund frowned, as if he struggled to believe such a thing still, yet he said nothing more about it.
“And have you kept in good health, Mother?”
“I have, no thanks to the slovenly no-goods that we employ. I have to continually hound them to keep the rooms warmed, to keep the drafts out of the house, to keep the bedding clean. If I just left it to them, we’d all take ill and die!”
Maria took a very deep breath – she expected her next words to be met with derision, but she had to try.
“Then… if it takes so much of your time to keep the household servants doing as they should, perhaps I could take that burden from you, and manage them, allowing you to focus on more important things?”
The Dowager glared at her, more ferociously than usual, and Edmund snapped his mouth closed, where he had gaped at the audacity of her words.
“I think not. What leads you to expect that I would trust a slattern like you to manage them? I’d more expect that you’d encourage their incompetence.”
Maria said nothing. Edmund, as usual, did nothing to defend her. The months in London had changed nothing at all. Life looked bleak, and any appetite she might have had disappeared. She survived the remainder of the conversation by being silent, by appearing to agree with whatever bitter nastiness the Dowager spouted, whilst wearing an artificial smile. It was as if she had never been away.
Dinner was strained, and she barely ate, before retiring, claiming great tiredness from the travelling (which the Dowager dismissed as mawkish weakness), and, as so often before, cried herself to sleep.
~~~~~
One night, not long after their return to Myniard House, when Edmund had actually come to her bed, Maria took the chance to speak to him, after he had been satisfied, hoping that the moment might make him more likely to listen.
“Edmund?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“I… I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“Do you… do you not think that your mother is somewhat overly harsh in her words to me? Surely, as your wife, it is my responsibility to take on the management of your household?”
Edmund looked at her, then looked away, as if very uncomfortable. When he spoke, he did not look back at her.
“Maria, I do understand that in most households, the wife would take on that responsibility. But, my mother has efficiently run this household and estate for thirty years. I see no reason to change something that works well. Her tone… can be somewhat overbearing, I know – but I am certain that she speaks with the best intent. I am not willing to take away from her the activities that she so efficiently carries out.”
Maria sighed, and despite her intent, a tear escaped.
“Could you not even ask her to speak to me with a little more kindness? I am not a servant, after all – I am your wife. I know that I am not the one she wished you to marry, but surely, in deference to your choice…”
“No Maria, I will not argue with my mother. Nothing good would come of it.”
Maria turned away, and buried her face in the pillow. There was, it seemed, no hope.
~~~~~
Edmund hated himself, even as he spoke the words to Maria, which allowed him to avoid conflict with his mother. The time for that conflict would come, but not until the Dower House was ready. He did care for Maria, and now that he had become aware of his mother’s failings, he flinched a little every time she spoke – yet he was not a brave man, not a strong man in many ways, he knew. He simply could not face daily arguments, until the time when he could hope to remove his mother from the house.
When Maria turned away from him, burying her face in the pillow, he was torn – part of him wanted to reach out to her, to hold and comfort her – but he was not certain that she would not, now, push him away. And, if he did comfort her, then surely she would expect him to do more, to challenge his mother.
In the end, he took the coward’s path, and simply removed himself from the bed, and returned to his own room, gently closing the door as he left. Tomorrow, he would begin the work on the Dower House. The stonework first.
~~~~~
The following morning, after breaking his fast, Edmund set out to the Dower House. The stonemason he had summoned from the next town met him there, and stood in silence, staring at the state of
the place.
“Can you repair it, make it liveable again?”
“It will take more than stonework to make this liveable, my Lord, but yes, I can repair the stonework. It is not so badly damaged.”
“How long will it take, then?”
“Many weeks, my Lord – I’ll need to take some walls apart and rebuild them – which in a building this size is a major effort. And I’ll need to source suitable stone – this wasn’t quarried near here – it will take time to get it.”
“I had hoped for something faster… but, if that is what it takes, so be it. Proceed with the work. I will see you, here, once a week, to check on progress, and to pay you for the work done.”
“As you wish, my Lord. And thank you for being considerate enough to pay as we go – too many Lords, if I may say so, never pay until everything is done, if they pay at all – which makes it hard for a man to feed his family.”
Edmund waved aside his thanks. The important thing was to get the work underway, and to make sure that it continued, and the man was paid, without his mother hearing of it. He felt a pang at deceiving her, then hardened his heart.
The memory of Maria’s distress gave him strength. By the time her birthday arrived, months in the future, and the London jeweller sent the piece he had commissioned for her, he fully intended his mother to be residing in the Dower house, and life to be very, very different.
~~~~~
“Cor – did ye hear that!”
“I did, I did. He really is a goin’ t’ fix this place up. We’ll have t’ move everythin’ to the cellars – if we leave it up here, that stonemason’ll find it. And we’ll have t’ clear out all our things from the kitchen and everywhere. Maybe we can fit more in over at the old tower – if we convince that batty old Lady Fremont that it really is haunted…”
Rescuing the Countess: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 13) Page 4
