by Abigail Agar
“I think my father did a much better job than I gave him credit for. I think Edmund might well be the one that I marry. I believe that we might even be happy together. He is kind, and he also makes me laugh which is something that I never expected. I did not know that business-focused men also liked to have some fun ... maybe that was just me being naïve.”
Daisy clapped her hands together gleefully before she leapt forward to embrace her friend. She did so with much more ease than Mary could ever manage, which Mary assumed had to be down to the class that she was born into. She held onto her and celebrated internally. This was incredible news and needed to be treated as such.
“I am so happy for you,” Daisy murmured into her hair. “You deserve to have such a wonderful life.”
“Thank you so much; that is very kind of you.”
Mary was touched; she could not believe how lucky she was. Daisy sounded genuinely happy for her, and while she was aware that a part of that would be to do with her job, she could also tell that some of it was real.
As Daisy pulled back, Mary was still smiling, but as the maid got back to work and eventually left her bedroom so she could rise from the bed in her own time, that happiness fell away. It did not matter to Mary how wonderful things were going for her, she could not get over her sister’s sadness. That was always there, playing in the back of her mind.
Mary forced herself to stand, and she padded across the bedroom to the window where she stared out over the land that surrounded her family home. Her brain wrestled inside her head. One part of her wanted to return to the dream about Edmund; she wanted to get back to that imagined kiss and the wonderful declarations of love to see where they might lead, but the other side of her, the more powerful part of her brain could only think about Charlotte.
That sadness in her eyes, that true fear ... she is going through a very terrible time.
Mary tried to think back to when Charlotte got married; she tried to recall whether her sister was looking forward to the day or not, but she could not remember anything. She was young at the time, and a lot had happened since such as their father’s passing. It was just not something she could remember the details of. She wished that she could, and she felt like it was something that could help her right now, but her brain would not let her do it.
If only there were something that she could do. If only she could sneak to Charlotte’s home in the middle of the night to steal her away and keep her safe. Maybe she had not mentioned it, but Mary had not forgotten about the bruises that she saw on her sister’s body. Lord Jones never seemed like the sort of man to be violent, but she could never tell what went on behind closed doors. Injuries like that did not come from nowhere.
What should I do? She glanced up at the sky as if someone was going to somehow give her an answer to her desperate plea. How should I help Charlotte and her unborn child? No one wants a child to grow up in such a toxic situation. There has to be something that I can do; I cannot just do nothing while she suffers in silence. But what can I do?
Of course, Mary did not get any answers. She was left more helpless than before. The only real solution she kept coming back to was the same one as before. She needed to marry the Duke to ensure that she inherited the house. She needed the house; she needed that security. She needed to give Charlotte somewhere to go if that was what she wanted, and marriage was the perfect solution to that.
It was just lucky that now it was something that she actually liked the idea of.
As she thought of that idea, Mary was not considering what Lord Jones would do if he found his young wife missing. She did not consider how society would take the news of her running away but remaining in London. All that she cared about was getting her sister far away from him. She did not want her to be in a place where he could ever put his hands on her again. Charlotte did not deserve that.
All that Mary could do was persevere and hope that one day a proposal would come in one way or another. She did not know how it would work; as far as she was concerned, it was rather uncommon for parents to make such requests from beyond the grave, but it had to occur somehow. She felt certain that it would now.
If Edmund felt anything like she did right now, he would be keen for things to progress just as much as she was. He would be looking forward to their wedding day and everything that came afterwards.
Mary wrapped her arms tightly around herself and held onto that warmth deep in her chest. She had never felt so much love swimming around in her before, and it left her with what felt like a lot of pent-up energy that she did not know what to do with. She wanted to skip and jump and run ... she wanted to fill her day with something incredible while she waited for Edmund to come back for her, just as he promised that he would.
But first, before she did anything, she needed to get dressed. She could not stand around in her nightwear all day long; it simply would not do.
Chapter 13
Edmund could barely contain himself. Ever since he shared that intense moment with Mary at the bookshelf, he had been absolutely certain. He knew now that this was the woman that he could love, that he would share a long and happy life with, just like his mother and father had when he was alive.
“What are you doing, Son?” Iris asked him as she found him pacing the floor of the drawing room with his hands behind his back as if he were plotting some large business deal. “You look very fraught. Is there something going on?”
She hunched up her shoulders, preparing for what she assumed would be a long and slightly dull conversation about something to do with a ship or a trade deal, but what she got instead relaxed her and filled her with glee.
“I wish to marry Lady Mary Roberts,” he told her as if it was obvious. Iris had suspected that things would go this way, but it was wonderful to get the confirmation. She knew that her son needed to be happy, and she hoped that this would be the first step towards that. “But I do not know how I should go about it. It is not a typical matter, is it?”
“No, I suppose not.” Iris paused thoughtfully. “Without her father around, I do not know what the next step should be. Plus, I do not think that you can ask her directly because of the clause in the will.”
“Yes.” Edmund waved his hands towards his mother. “You are right. That makes it all the more confusing. I do not know how to address this situation. I want to do things right because I know she would like to organise her inheritance properly.”
“So, maybe you should send a letter to the gentleman in charge of the will?” Iris offered. “Maybe he is the point of contact.”
Edmund screwed up his nose; he did not like that plan at all. Anything that allowed Walter more power than he should have over their relationship, he did not like. Then again, it was the right thing to do if he wanted to be respectful. William Roberts had left Walter in charge of his will for a reason. If he trusted him, then maybe Edmund needed to as well.
“Yes, I think you might be right,” he finally said agreeably. “That is what I shall do.”
It did not feel very romantic. Edmund was sure that Mary deserved romance, but this was the way it had to go. Maybe afterwards, once all the practical arrangements were sorted out, he would go to her with a ring and ask her properly. That was not the way that things were necessarily done, but he wanted to give Mary some adventure.
“You should go and write it now,” Iris encouraged him. “You have time this morning, do you not?”
“I suppose so.” Edmund wanted to get started with the marriage arrangements. Now that he had made up his mind about Mary, he could not wait for her to be his wife. This was just a practical hump to overcome. “Yes, you are right. I shall do it now.”
Iris did not say it aloud, but internally she cheered. Her husband died before she got a chance to have any more children which was a shame because she loved being a mother. Now, maybe she could have her second chance at being a grandmother. It would not be exactly the same, but it would be close enough. Maybe it would even be better. As she imagine
d it, she could almost feel the bundle of joy forming in her arms.
“That is a great plan, Edmund. I am terribly proud of you.”
With a smile, he left the room and walked towards his office where he kept all of his writing equipment. As he moved, he considered how amazing it was that he had found someone that he could truly have feelings for. In the back of his mind, he always felt that he was asking for too much wanting what his mother and father shared. Now, he had found it. Or at least the beginnings of it. He was the luckiest man alive.
Edmund whistled to himself as he pushed the door to his office open. Inside, he stared at the same four walls where he always locked himself away to get his paperwork done. The white of the walls was the same, and the mahogany desk with the matching coloured chair had never changed, nor had the desk lamp ... but now everything felt that much more pleasant to look at. The bookshelf behind his desk contained just some of the literature that both he and Mary shared a love for.
Edmund moved over to the books before he took his seat at the desk, and he tugged out his own copy of Frankenstein. The pages were battered and well worn from the countless times that he had read the book, and now he felt the incredible urge to read through it again. It did not matter that he could pretty much remember every single word; he wanted it fresh in his mind for when he discussed it with Mary again.
He thumbed the pages, inhaling that smell that could only come from a book, and he grinned. This was just one more piece of confirmation that he was making the right decision.
Edmund gently placed the book on his desk so that he could look at it as he wrote what promised to be the most complex letter of his life. Or maybe it would be easy. Maybe once he started writing, the words would flow. He would not know until he got started.
He pulled out a blank piece of paper and delicately spread it in front of him. Then he grabbed his quill and dipped it into the blackest ink that he had. He needed Walter to know that he was serious when he finally opened it.
‘Dearest Mr Walter Thompson,’ he started carefully. He took the time to craft each letter perfectly on the page in the best handwriting that he could manage. ‘I am writing to you again today with some news. Good news, I believe.’
He sat back in his chair and scrutinised the words. They were not right; maybe he should have taken the time to plan what he was going to say, but he had written down those words now. It was too late unless he wanted to start again. That would not be a good idea. If he started again once, then he knew that he would do it a million times.
‘After spending time with Lady Mary Roberts, I feel like I would like to progress forward with the request that Lord William Roberts set forth for us. I would like to get married.’
The thought of seeing Mary walking towards him down the aisle in the local church, where he had always planned to get married, filled him with intense happiness. The idea of committing the rest of his life to her did not scare him even one little bit.
‘I shall ask Lady Roberts formally myself,’ he added, hoping that he could keep a little control of the situation. ‘But I wanted to inform you of my decision first since you are the executor of the will.’ He needed to throw in a little bit of flattery to keep him onside. ‘After all the hard work you have put in, I at least think you deserve to know first.’
It was not the longest letter in the world, nor was it the most eloquent, but as Edmund signed off the paper, he felt good about what he had done. The ball was rolling now, and things were finally moving in the right direction. He just hoped and prayed that Walter would take the hint and would let Edmund propose to Mary in his own way. Not that he knew what he would do just yet...
I shall have to go ring shopping, he thought happily. I will need to get some roses for Mary or some other nice flowers. I have to make it special. I need to make it the most special day of her whole entire life ... until her wedding day, of course. I want that to be even more special. Then I want to spend every day of her whole life making her happy.
He grabbed hold of an envelope and put the folded paper inside. Then he wrote Walter’s address across it, just like he had done on all the other letters he had sent to him with regards to Mary. Only those letters were arrangements to meet with her, and this was a piece of paper that would change the course of both their lives forever. It weighed heavily in his hands, but not in a negative way. His heart was within that envelope, and he hoped that Mary’s was too. Judging by the intensity of the moment they shared together at their bookshelf before, she liked him just as much as he did her. He hoped that like would turn into love.
Edmund’s pulse hammered loudly but with excitement and not nerves. Heat and happiness warmed his chest; this as the best feeling in the world. An amazing feeling that he was sure would only get better. Soon, he would hear back from Walter, and then he would propose formally to Mary. Once she said yes, if she said yes, they could get started with the rest of their lives together. Happy. In love.
***
Walter breathed a sigh of relief as he read the words in front of him written by Duke Smith. He had suspected that things were heading in the right direction and that everything was going to plan, but to have that confirmed after what felt like forever was wonderful. He had been dealing with this nightmare of a will clause for far too long. He would be so glad for all of this to be over and done with so he could return to what he wanted to do.
“Perfect,” he muttered to himself as he picked up his quill to write out a reply. “Just perfect.”
‘Your Grace,
Thank you very much for your letter. I was very pleased to receive it. I am certain that Lady Mary Roberts will be very happy to learn of your request to marry her too. Now that I have received this information from you, I shall start legal proceedings with regards to the inheritance of the house, and I shall also be in touch with regards to the dowry also.
Do let me know when you plan to visit again.
Mr Walter Thompson.’
After Walter had written out his reply, he tucked it into his pocket to post and left his office to get into the carriage to go straight to Mary’s home. Maybe Duke Smith had been hinting that he wanted to tell Mary about the marriage proposal himself, but Walter could not take any chances. He needed Mary to know what was coming because he did not want to give Edmund a chance to back out of his promise. He did not think that he would, but he could not take chances. He had been alive for long enough to realise that nothing good could come out of taking chances and trusting in people.
***
“Lady Roberts?” Daisy looked panicked as she called out to Mary. It was hard for her to pull her head out of her copy of Frankenstein since she was so lost in the storyline for yet another time, but there was desperation in Daisy’s tone that grabbed her attention. “Mr Thompson is here to speak with you.”
“He is?” Mary placed her book carefully on the table beside her and stood up. She brushed her skirts down and touched her face gently, hoping that she looked presentable for this unexpected meeting. “I am not expecting him today; did he say what he wanted?”
“He did not?” Daisy shook her head rapidly. “But he said to let you know that he has something urgent to tell you.”
“Right.” Mary nodded as her heart raced in her chest. “I see, yes.”
What can it be? Walter did not come to her home without some news to share with her. Sometimes it was wonderful news, often not so much. Mary was not sure why, but she felt a little fragile. She got the impression that any bad news would break her.
With tentative footsteps, she made her way downstairs to where Walter stood in the hallway. As he heard her coming, he glanced upwards and smiled serenely at her. Maybe that expression was designed to help her relax, but it did not. Mary knew that something Walter considered to be good news did not necessarily mean that she would agree.
“Good morning, Mr Thompson,” Mary declared professionally and politely. She had become almost expert in hiding her feelings well. “What a wonderful surpr
ise to see you here.”
Walter waited until she had fully descended to the bottom of the stairs before he spoke out. “Yes, Lady Roberts, it is lovely to see you again.” He folded his arms across his chest, revealing just a small glimpse of the letter in his hand. “Today, I received word from His Grace, Duke Smith.”
“You ... you did?” Mary could tell that this was not just another meeting arrangement. It was written all over his face. “And what did it say?”
“His Grace has declared his intention to marry you.”
Mary felt a burst of intense excitement, followed by the calm sensation that could only come from knowing that the pieces of her life were finally all coming together. This was what she had been wanting for so long. To hear it was incredible.
“That is wonderful,” she gasped. “I am very pleased.”
