by Abigail Agar
“There is nothing that I can do,” Charlotte replied with a helpless shrug. “I am having the baby … my husband’s baby. I am only sure this will give those horrible society women more reason to dislike me.”
Again, Mary was silenced. Without having much experience with society women, this was not something that she could talk about. She presumed it would have been something that their mother discussed with them … had she been alive.
For the first time in her whole life, Mary experienced a true sense of helplessness; she could actually match Charlotte’s emotions with this one. When she first heard that she was going to get married, she was afraid, but nothing like this. This was truly something else. Her sister was pregnant, trapped, and in a desperately unhappy situation that showed no sign of getting better.
“Maybe … maybe you will love being a mother,” she suggested, aware of the hollow sound in her voice. “I certainly do not believe that you will die in childbirth. What happened to Mother was eighteen years ago. Medicine has progressed immensely since then.”
“People still do not always survive childbirth,” Charlotte replied. “It is not a guarantee. Do you think that maybe we are more likely to struggle because of what happened to Mother?”
Mary had never had cause to think of anything like that, but now the thought almost consumed her. Was that a hereditary thing? Neither girls had thought to ask their father about their mother’s mother. Maybe she died in childbirth too …
“I am certain that you will be fine.” Mary forced a smile on her face. She could not let an already worried Charlotte continue to be terrified. “And I am sure that your baby will bring you no end of happiness. You will make a wonderful mother.” A thick ball of emotion lodged itself firmly in Mary’s throat, and it was one that she could not swallow down. “You spent enough time taking care of me.”
“I did not,” Charlotte let out a little sound that was almost like a chuckle. “Father had staff to take care of the both of us.”
“I know.” Mary nodded agreeably. “But you were still a wonderful sister, and you will make a fantastic mother too.”
Charlotte felt utterly grateful for her sister’s kind words. In a way, she was so glad that she had decided to tell her. At least now it was not some shameful secret that she was keeping just for herself … but in another way, maybe it was not that good. As soon as Mary went, so would any positivity she felt about the situation.
This baby was still coming, whether she liked it or not.
“Would you …?” Mary did not know what she was supposed to do. All she wanted at that moment was to help out her sister. Any problem she had herself paled into insignificance. “Would you like me to come and stay here? For you, not me?” Mary was not sure that Charlotte’s husband would like it much, especially if what she suspected about him was true, but he was not important to her.
Charlotte did, of course she did. She would have to be utterly insane not to, but she could not invite her sister into her complex family life if it were not utterly necessary. Lord Jones would not like it, and she did not want to cause an unnecessary argument with him. She would do it to help out Mary, but not herself.
“No, no,” she said as she wiped a stray tear away. “I do not wish you to come and stay here. Not when you have so much to decide yourself.”
“Do you mean with the Duke? Because that truly does not matter …”
“Yes,” Charlotte insisted with more strength to her words now. “Yes, it very much does matter. You have to work out what you want to do with your future. I and my problems are not going anywhere.”
Mary could tell that this was just an excuse, so she nodded and agreed with Charlotte. “That is fine; I shall do whatever you require. However, I shall be here more often so I can help you with whatever it is that you need.”
The girls held onto one another for a little longer, staring at each other as they tried to adjust to all the changes that life was suddenly throwing at them. Charlotte was still very unsure about how she felt when it came to her pregnancy, cementing her in the life that she hated. Mary did not know whether she was supposed to be happy, excited, or very scared. Everything was very confusing, and not knowing about where her life would take her next was slightly unpleasant. It could either be very good, or very bad. Maybe everything was so confusing for a reason. Hopefully, it would all become clear soon enough.
“Shall we have some more tea?” Charlotte asked thickly through the tears. “I believe I would like to sit with you some more as I calm down.”
“I would love that,” Mary agreed. “Whatever you need. Please just know that I am almost here. Whatever I can do, I shall do.”
Mary did not know what she could offer; she was not someone with any sort of power. She did not even have enough money to help her sister escape. All she might potentially end up with was the house …
Maybe I should marry the Duke, she suddenly thought as a spark of inspiration, her heart racing quickly. Then I can inherit the house and give it to Charlotte to escape. Maybe that is what all of this is leading to …
Chapter 11
Mary smiled at Edmund across the room where he sat chewing on the food that the cook had prepared for their third meeting. As she had waited for him to arrive, Mary felt unable to control the excitement that bubbled up inside of her. She found herself actually looking forward to seeing the Duke again, which was highly unexpected. It had been almost two weeks since they previously spent time together, and she had missed him.
Maybe this was the right thing to do, and not just for Daisy and Charlotte, but for herself too. Maybe this was where her future happiness lay. She could not explain it, even to herself, but she felt that there was something in the air between her and Duke Edmund. Something strong and powerful.
“I noticed your bookshelf earlier,” he said with a smile on his lips. “There are some very interesting reads on there.”
“You read?” Mary could not stop the shock from pouring out of her mouth. The only other businessman she had known well was her father, and he never had the time to sit down with a book. “I cannot believe it.”
“Do I not look intelligent enough to read?” he teased her, showing a playful side of himself that he had not realised was there. “I cannot believe that you would say such a hurtful thing.”
Mary blushed and giggled girlishly. Her eyes darted downwards, but then she looked back up at him through her eyelashes, admiring his strong and powerful looks. She had always thought him attractive looking, but now that she knew him a little better, that feeling was even stronger.
“I did not mean it like that; I simply presumed that you were too busy with all of your work.”
“Well, I have managed to read Frankenstein during everything that I need to do.”
Mary’s heart stopped dead in her chest; that was her all-time favourite book. Her father often made comments about it not being the sort of literature that she should be reading, but she much preferred it to the sappy, romantic books other girls her age liked.
“Yes, that is a wonderful read,” she said happily. “One that I have devoured more than once.” She pushed herself to her feet and took a couple of steps towards Edmund, doing something braver than she ever thought she would. Something about the confusing feelings she had racing through her veins made her much less shy. “Would you like to go and look at the bookshelf? See if there are any other books that we both share a love of?”
Edmund could hardly believe it; Mary was absolutely perfect! He had never met anyone who liked Frankenstein as much as he did. Of course, he wanted to see what other books they both enjoyed. The more he discovered that they had in common, the surer he started to feel.
Maybe his mother was right, and love was not something that hit you in the face. Maybe it was one of those things that crept up slowly and unexpectedly.
“I would love that.” He rose too, before glancing down at Walter. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that they needed some time witho
ut him. “You should stay here, Mr Thompson, and enjoy your wine. We should not be more than ten minutes, I am certain.”
Walter felt completely taken aback. He had lost all control of this meeting a long time ago, but this was something else. He was supposed to be a chaperone for the Duke and Mary; he was not supposed to leave them alone, but was there much use to him following them towards the bookshelf to listen to a terribly boring conversation about literature?
No, he felt that he would rather remain in his chair where he could relax for a moment. There was not any real trouble that they could get up to in that time anyway.
“Sure, I shall remain here.”
Edmund and Mary started to walk. They moved slowly and deliberately at first but picked up the pace as they left the room. Stifling a laugh, Mary found herself almost running in a desperate attempt to get away from Walter.
“Goodness me, he is a boring man,” Edmund said with a chuckle. “All he wants to talk about is business.”
Mary bit down on her bottom lip as she tried to decide whether or not to say the first thing that popped into her brain. On a whim, she chose to throw caution to the wind and just go for it. “I thought that about you when I first met you.”
Edmund turned to face Mary head on. He was a little taken aback by that remark; he was not expecting it at all. It was not common for Ladies to be honest with their feelings in such a way, but then again, he was far more used to his mother than any other woman. She often told him how it was.
He decided that he should do the same. After all, why not? Maybe that was what love was based upon, the ability to be honest with one another. “I see, is that why you rolled your eyes at me?”
Mary clapped her hand over her mouth as horror struck her; she could not believe it! An icy lump formed in her stomach as she tried to imagine what that must have looked like. He must have assumed her to be so rude. There she was, thinking him a horrible and arrogant man, and she had acted in an awfully uncouth manner.
“You saw that?” she gasped. “I am so sorry; how terrible of me.”
Edmund laughed. He loved to see Mary coming out of her shell bit by bit. By shaking off the shyness, she was showing herself to be a kind and sweet young Lady. “Yes, I did, but looking back, I believe I probably deserved it. I was droning on and on about my businesses, showing off more than is deemed polite.”
“Oh, w … well,” Mary stammered. “So you should, you have many reasons to be very proud of yourself.”
“Maybe so.” Edmund shrugged one shoulder. “But that is no excuse for being boring.”
They remained standing for a couple of seconds with their eyes locked on one another, drinking each other in. Edmund did not feel the need to question himself anymore. He was growing increasingly certain that this wonderful, beautiful Lady was the one for him. They shared interests; she captivated him. He enjoyed having her around, and he missed her when they were apart … it was everything that he had always been looking for, but he had not realised it before.
Mary was slightly less certain, but not because of Edmund. He was much more wonderful than she gave him credit for at first; she was really starting to feel a lot of things for him. How could she not like this handsome, funny man who was extremely ambitious and successful? Usually, women only got to pick one of those traits, so Mary knew that she was lucky. She was sure that if she gave into the love that threatened to swallow her up, it would be wonderful.
No, her only doubt came from the fear that just maybe she was convincing herself that the Duke was the man she wanted to marry because it would help everyone else out. Walter could relax and stop worrying about the will, and Daisy and the other staff members would be allowed to keep their jobs. Charlotte would be presented with a potential option if she ever needed anywhere else to live.
Do I like him because of what our marriage will offer everyone, or do I like him because of the way he makes me feel?
Mary needed to work that out, and she hoped it was something she would discover sooner rather than later.
“Come on, let us go and see the books,” she said happily. “Walter will come looking for us soon, and we do not wish to be caught not doing what we have promised.”
As she turned and moved, Edmund paused for a second while he watched her walk away. There was something about her sunny disposition that utterly thrilled him. He felt very lucky to have been given the opportunity to get to know her. After all, if it had not been for the surprising letter that he received from Mary’s father, he would have never crossed her path in any other way. His business kept him away from Ladies like Mary, and she was much too quiet to ever be at one of those awful balls … unless she was forced to be there.
Of course, even if they had met that way, the terrible first impressions that they gave one another would have halted any chance for romance right away.
As the couple reached the bookshelf, there was something brand new in the atmosphere around them. Somehow, they seemed to find their flow with one another, and every single movement was performed with ease. They appeared to seamlessly know how one another would move, and they slotted their own behaviour around that.
“Wuthering Heights, Little Women, Jane Eyre …” Edmund commented. “Hmm, maybe we do not share the same tastes in books after all.”
“Actually, those are the books my sister loved,” Mary told him. “And they are also the books my father wanted me to like too. I could not help myself; I always preferred Dracula, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Something with a bit of drama and excitement. Something where the storyline would take me somewhere thrilling. There is only so much excitement in romance … or so I have always thought.”
She did not realise how provocative that sounded until she felt Edmund’s eyes prickling on the back of her neck. As it hit her, an intense heat burned up from her toes and raced all the way to the top of her head. Edmund found it completely adorable that Mary was so embarrassed. It showed just how sweet she was. He could never picture her doing something as forward as Victoria, which left him feeling much more comfortable.
He reached forward to take the book from Mary’s hand, to see what she was examining with such intensity, but as he did, his skin accidentally brushed against hers causing electrical sensations to flood him. He jumped backwards, his eyes opening wide with surprise, and when the book hit the floor with a loud thump, he knew that she felt it too.
Mary could not deny it anymore; she could not imagine that she was only convincing herself that there was something between her and the Duke to make life easier for everyone else. When he touched her then, she felt something so deep within her it was unreachable. Her heart and chest warmed up; her tummy twisted again, and her brain buzzed with emotion.
I like this man, she thought decisively. I really like this man. Maybe I could even love him.
“I …” she started, but Edmund interrupted her.
“We …” Edmund trailed off awkwardly too as he realised that they both wanted to speak at the same time.
There was nothing that they could say; there was a magnet between them, desperately trying to pull them in together. Mary could feel it tingling on her lips, and she had a real need to kiss him, an urge so deeply ingrained that she was not sure she could resist it. When Edmund took a step closer to her as if he was feeling it too, Mary knew that she would not be able to stop him. She was aware that it could ruin her, both of them actually, if they kissed any time before their wedding day, but how could she turn her back on an urge so strong?
Do not do this, Edmund tried his best to tell himself. This is not the right thing to do.
Yet somehow he could not stop moving towards Mary. Those plump lips of hers were crying out to him, begging him to kiss her. This was nothing like it was with Victoria; this was something he wanted. Something he felt that they both wanted.
“Lady Mary Roberts?” As a voice rang through the hallway, they both leapt back as if they had been set on fire. “Your Gr
ace?”
It was Walter, finally alerting them to the fact that they had been far longer than ten minutes at the bookshelf. They had only intended to go and see a few pieces of literature, but instead, they had found themselves falling into the abyss of feelings for one another.
“Erm, yes?” Mary called out while smoothing down her hair. She was acting as if she had something to be guilty about, even though they had not done anything. “Yes, we are coming back now.”
They did not move right away; they stared at each other while panting heavily. It was as if they were both out of breath despite the fact that they had not been running or doing any form of exercise.
“What do we do?” Edmund whispered. “Should we go back?”
Mary burst into giggles at the thought of slipping her hand into Edmund’s and running out into the garden with him. They would not go far; her impulse would not be too naughty, but she already knew for certain that it would not end well. She had come to learn that Walter was not the sort of man that should be messed about.
“I would love to run off,” she leaned in to tell Edmund. As she did, their foreheads almost touched, bringing back all the same sensations as before. “But I feel we might get locked up in jail if we did.”
Edmund agreed with mock seriousness. “Yes, you are right. Walter is not to be played about with. Let us go back in there. I will share one more drink with him, then I think I shall leave.”
Mary’s throat constricted with panic. “You will come back soon?” she asked breathlessly, not even caring how that sounded. Maybe she should have been trying to keep herself in check, but it was hard with him confusing her, making her feelings swell.
Edmund placed one of his hands over hers for just a second. He tried his hardest to ignore all the feelings that filled him, but they did not wish to be pushed down. “I will be back; you do not have to worry about that.”
Edmund knew that he would always come back. Now that he had opened his heart to Mary, and she had come inside, he knew that he would not let her go now. Not for anything.
