by Abigail Agar
The butler nodded and turned away, thankfully leaving the girls alone. Mary felt utterly grateful for that. When it was just her and Charlotte, they could almost be the way that they once were.
“It must be nice,” she commented idly. “Having many people doing as you ask.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes at Mary. “You act as if our family has never had people working for us. You do not have it hard, trust me. I have seen the working classes and the conditions that they have to live in ... now that is terrible.”
“You have?” Mary was stunned; she had always led a very sheltered existence. A morbid curiosity claimed her. “What is it like?”
“Awful, not the sort of life anyone would like to have.” Charlotte paused for a second, and she cocked her head to one side. There was something that she wanted to confess to someone, but she did not have many friends anymore. With a husband much older than her, all of his friend’s wives were also older. Charlotte always felt left out, no matter what happened. But this was her sister; why should she not tell her? “Actually, I would like to do something to help the working classes, but my husband does not agree. He believes that the poor are a parasite on society, and the kindest thing we can do is to ignore them.”
“Oh ... right.” Mary did not know what to say to that; it was something that felt so far removed from her own life. Without any knowledge on the subject, she did not feel that she could contribute anything intelligent. “I see.”
“So, this Duke, what do you know about him?” Charlotte needed to get the conversation back to the subject at hand. “What did Walter tell you?”
“Nothing, really. I do not know a thing. I have a meeting scheduled with him next week so I can get to know something about him.”
Charlotte slid closer to Mary on the sofa so that she could speak to her quietly. While she had told the staff to leave her alone, she could not guarantee that they would not eavesdrop. The last thing she wanted was for anything that she was about to say to get back to her husband.
“Mary, I know this might be hard for you to hear, but I think you might need to sacrifice the inheritance.”
“What?” Of all the things Mary had been expecting her sister to say, this was not it. “What do you mean?”
“Mary, my husband is a horrible man. He is older than me; he belittles me, and he treats me terribly.” Charlotte’s eyes welled up with tears. “I am having the most terrible life. I know what you must think; you assume that I have it all with the nice house and the expensive clothing, but it does not equal happiness.”
Mary gulped; this overwhelming show of affection stunned her. “I am terribly sorry, Charlotte. I did not know that things were quite as bad.” She suspected that things were not all well, but she did not think her strong-willed older sister would cry.
“It is horrible, Mary, and I blame Father for this.”
“You do?” Mary wanted to reach out to embrace her sister, but her words had her frozen to the spot for a moment.
“I do. He chose John for me, someone that he did business with and deemed suitable for me. He did not seem to think that this might be a man that I would not like. He simply decided that he had enough money to keep me happy, and that was the end of it.” The mask had gone now, and Charlotte was a mess. “I begged him not to make me marry him, but he did. He does not choose men well, and I do not want him to do the same for you.”
As Charlotte reached out to grab Mary’s arms in a state of sheer desperation, her sleeves fell back slightly. Mary spotted purplish marks on her sister’s arms that appeared to be bruises in the shape of fingers. Mary’s heart flew up into her throat making it incredibly challenging to get any air into her lungs.
Charlotte spotted her sister looking, and she tugged her sleeve down rapidly. While Mary did not ask her what had happened, she already knew. The way that her sister’s cheeks tinged pink with humiliation.
Things were bad. They were worse than she expected.
“You do not wish to end up like me, Mary,” Charlotte warned her. “You do not want to be miserable with a horrible, brutish man who only wants you for an heir.”
An heir ... there it was; the stark reminder of the main purpose for a woman in the world. It was all about having a baby to carry on the family name and to inherit anything that the father earned. But before a baby came something that Mary did not want to think about. Judging by the look on her sister’s face, Charlotte did not like the idea much either. The only difference was, Charlotte was already stuck in a marriage where that was already an issue.
“So what do you think I should do?” Mary asked desperately. Now Charlotte had her even more worried. “What do I do about it all? Walter is pushing forward with the plans despite the fact that he can see I am uncomfortable with it.”
“I do really think that you should give up the house. The inheritance is not as important as a lifetime of misery.”
“Where will I go?” Mary’s hand moved up to her mouth in shock. The reality of this hit her hard; she did not know how to deal with what might come next. “What will I do?”
“You can come here.” Charlotte did not know how her husband would react to her inviting her sister into their home, even if they had plenty of room for her, but she could not deny that the idea of having someone around to support her was very tempting. “I shall care for you; we shall find you a husband that you choose yourself.”
Mary rubbed her cheek nervily; she did not know what to do for the best. Whatever decision she made, her life was about to change forever. She was comfortable with how things were at the moment and did not want anything to be different, but that choice had already been taken from her.
How much easier things were when I was a child, she thought wistfully. I wish I could go back to how things were then.
“I still have to meet with the Duke,” Mary told her sister. “But if that goes as badly as I suspect it might, I shall take you up on your offer. I do not wish to end up unhappy.” She felt bad even saying that, seeing her sister in that exact situation. “I am sorry that you are.”
Charlotte was so wrapped up in the idea of helping out her sister that her own issues took a back seat for the moment. Ever since she saw the conditions that the poor were forced to live in, and she was denied the chance to help them, she had wanted to do something for someone.
This was as good a cause as any.
“I will help you, Mary,” she insisted. “Whatever you need me to do. You will have to meet this Duke now; it would be terribly rude not to, but do not think that means you need to marry him. Be strong, Mary, do not get convinced to do something that you know is not right.”
Mary took her sister’s hands and stared intently into her eyes. “I do not know what I can offer you, Charlotte, but if there is any way that I can help you too, you know that I will do it. And thank you very much for your advice; it is very welcome. I shall be strong and will do what I think is right.”
“You must. This is all on you. It is only you that shall be affected by the choice you make for the rest of your life. Our father is not around anymore; he can only command so much from the grave. What you do is up to you.”
“Yes,” Mary whispered as Charlotte’s words washed over her. She was right; Mary knew it, but that did not make it any less overwhelming. “Yes, it is.”
The bond that had been slowly unravelling for the past six years knitted itself together once more just a little bit. The sisters smiled at one another, sharing a moment of unison. They both had their troubles now; neither of them had a perfect life. The only people they really had in the world that they could trust were one another.
“Shall we take our tea out into the garden?” Charlotte asked on impulse. “The weather is so lovely today. Maybe, considering we are both having such a challenging time, a relaxing moment in the sunshine is exactly what we both need.”
Mary nodded and followed Charlotte outside, her mind churning the entire time. She had never been put in the position of having
to make a life-changing decision before. It had never been an issue because of her age. Her father made her choices, then Walter. Now, though, this was up to her. She had to choose what was right for herself, and the power of that utterly terrified her.
Chapter 4
Walter’s smile was much too bright. Mary could tell that he was enjoying the moment very much, which only served to make her even more anxious. Her lilac coloured dress felt much too tight over her restrictive corset, and the puffy sleeves were in the way as she turned her head towards her front door for what felt like the hundredth time; the lace that ran down her arms irritated her skin in a way that it had never done before. It was not just her dress that was a problem, her light blonde hair was scraped back so tightly off her face that it pinched her skin, and the heavy make-up around her bright, fiery blue eyes felt heavy.
The handmaiden had done too much to Mary today, and she was not impressed by it. Maybe she looked beautiful, even in her own eyes she could see that, but it was not worth it to be in so much pain.
“He should be here soon,” Walter said once more in what he seemed to think was a reassuring tone. He did not seem to understand that Mary did not want him to arrive at all. “It is not like the Duke to be late; he must be stuck somewhere.”
“Right,” Mary replied stiffly. “I see.”
Please decide that you do not wish to marry me; that would take off all the pressure.
Mary had spent all night long fantasising about various ways that this could all go wrong. Since his letter to Walter confirmed that he was not, in fact, married, Mary could only hope that something would get in the way to prevent him from wanting to marry her. If he said no, then surely she could still keep the house?
“Is that a carriage I can hear outside?” Walter leapt up as if he’d been burned, and he hurried towards the window. As he stared out through the glass, Mary could not help feeling that he had made himself much too comfortable in her home over the last few days.
Do not hate Walter, she tried to convince herself. He is only acting on Father’s wishes.
Mary had never had a bad word to say about her father. She assumed that Charlotte had not either, but after seeing her the previous week and learning how she really felt about everything was a true eye-opener. Charlotte resented the man who raised them for choosing a suitor for her based only on the money he had, not the compatibility. That had to be the same here; her father had not seen her grown over the last five years. He made the choice – out of necessity – based on what he thought she might need when she was only thirteen years of age.
This could only spell disaster; there was no other outcome.
“Yes.” Walter turned to Mary with a smile. “He is here. I shall go and let him in so that you two can meet for the very first time.”
Mary did not move. It was as if she was completely frozen to the chair beneath her. An ice-cold sensation encased her heart and ran through her veins, freezing up her whole body.
He is here. Despite what I think, I have to make a good impression. If Walter believes that I am not putting in the effort, he shall strip me of my home. I do wish to make the Duke want to marry someone else, but I cannot be seen to be doing so.
Daisy moved into the room, setting out drinks and snacks for the guests. She could see the troubled expression on Mary’s face, which she immediately understood. All the staff had been coached by Walter on how they were to behave when the Duke arrived today to meet Mary.
“Are you alright, Lady Roberts?” Daisy asked her quietly.
“I ... I think so,” Mary stammered back. “I am terribly nervous.”
“Well, you look beautiful if that helps.”
Mary smiled gratefully at Daisy; it was so kind of her to try and make Mary feel better. She knew how scared she was about today, but it was still lovely for her to reach out.
“Thank you, Daisy. Will you be around, serving drinks?”
“I shall,” Daisy replied with a curtsy. “I will be here.”
Mary was not sure why, but that made her feel a whole lot better. Daisy was not quite a friend, but she was the closest thing that Mary had to one. While there was not a thing she could do, simply having her in the room was a comfort.
As footsteps rang through the hallway, joined in with two booming male voices, Mary pushed herself into a standing position. Her good manners were so well ingrained that she could not resist them even in a state of panic. Daisy scurried over to the side of the room where she would wait by the drinks, leaving Mary exposed and by herself.
She brushed her dress downwards, ensuring that the skirts hung perfectly by her feet, then her hands automatically went up to her hair where she smoothed it down more than it already was.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
Her heart hammered noisily in her chest while she waited. It vibrated against her ribcage while boiling hot anticipation raced through her veins. Any minute now, she would meet the man who her father had chosen for her. If he was anything like Charlotte suggested, then he would be just as horrible as Lord Jones.
“Your Grace, I would like you to meet Lady Mary Roberts,” Walter announced with flair. “She would like to welcome you to her home and thank you for coming to meet with her.”
Mary’s stomach jolted. She was far too shocked to be annoyed that Walter was speaking on her behalf. Duke Edmund Smith was a massive surprise, nothing like Mary suspected. Despite the fact that she was aware his age was much less than her sister’s husband’s, for some reason she was expecting him to be grey-haired, round-bellied, with pink stained skin from drinking too much wine, just like he was.
Instead, he was tall, dark, and very handsome. He actually made Mary’s heart flutter a little bit.
“It is good to meet you, Lady Mary Roberts.”
Oh. His tone was cold, as was his face. The smile that had somehow worked its way up onto Mary’s face fell away when she realised that he truly did not want to be there. Maybe she should have been pleased for that was exactly what she wanted; maybe she should have expected it because she did not much want to be there either, but instead, all she felt was sadness. A hollow sensation filled her.
“Y ... yes, it is good to meet you too.”
She extended her hand and waited for him to kiss it. Despite the fact that it was the polite thing to do, the Duke left her hand hanging in mid-air until she dropped it.
I do not like him, Mary thought angrily. Charlotte was right; he is not a good man. Father has a terrible taste in men. I shall have to refuse to marry him.
But the thought of giving up the family home, even if she did have other options now, scared her. It felt like a huge step that she was not quite ready to take.
“Shall we all take a seat?” Walter asked in a jolly tone as if he could not sense the frosty atmosphere at all. “Edmund, you should tell us more about yourself.”
As Edmund began to speak, he did so with a tone of arrogance. He was clearly very proud of what he had done, and he was not afraid of letting other people know it. Mary could not imagine her father working alongside such a man; he was always very humble about his own achievements. At least in public; maybe he hid his pride inside, but Mary had certainly never heard it.
“That is so impressive.” Walter sounded like he was in love with the man himself. He was being much too kind, encouraging the man to tell him more. “That sounds like it must keep you very busy.”
“Oh yes, it does ...”
Mary could hardly stand to listen. Without even meaning to, she rolled her eyes in a way that she hoped was discrete.
The sooner that this is over, the sooner I can decide what I want to do next.
Anger built up inside Edmund as he spotted Mary roll her eyes at him. He was happy with what he had achieved in life; for a man with no father to guide him, he had made a success of himself.
I should have known, he thought with a sharp shake of the head. I should have guessed this would not work out.
After hear
ing from his mother that he had to meet the Lady to remain polite, he had asked around to learn more about the Lady Mary Roberts. Not many people knew her well. She was not one who made herself known in society, but the people who were aware of her told him that she was known for her standoffish nature. She did not make an effort with people, and that made her seem rude.
He had wanted to believe that maybe she was just shy, but now it appeared that everyone else was, in fact, correct.
Her sister, married to Lord Jones, was also known for her quiet, impolite nature. She did not even speak much in the times that was expected of her. Again, Edmund had tried his best to rationalise that behaviour in his mind, but now he could see that there was nothing to justify. The Roberts’ sisters were rude, and that was all there was to it.
I do not like her, he thought with determination. I will not marry her, I refuse.
