by Abigail Agar
“Fine.” She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a glare. “I shall give you only five minutes of my time, then I would like you to leave.”
She walked towards the drawing room, giving Daisy a look that only her friend would understand. She needed this conversation to be private and alone. She did not want her humiliating situation to be public knowledge until maybe she was ready to share. Even with her friend. It was bad enough that everyone already knew that the man she was falling in love with, the man who had told her that he shared her feelings, did not care about her enough to keep his kisses to himself.
Her eyes welled up with tears, but she blinked to keep them inside. She would not let Edmund see her cry; it was the thing that she was most determined about. She would not let Edmund know how much he had hurt her. That was the most important thing.
Daisy felt anxious leaving Mary in the room with Duke Smith; she did not like to leave her friend in the hands of that man. The Duke had always appeared very pleasant to her, and she assumed that her Lady would enjoy being married to him, but now she had her eyes open. Even if it meant her losing her job, she did not want Mary to be stuck with a man who did not deserve her. Her biggest fear was that the Duke would talk her around and that she would end up believing him.
Mary waited until the door clicked behind her before she allowed her arms to unfold. Then she stood in front of Edmund expectantly, waiting for him to speak. She was not about to make this any easier for him by talking first. She was not the one who had done anything wrong.
As they waited, she ran her eyes over him. Everything about him still appeared exactly the same; there was no indication that anything had changed. Duke Edmund Smith was still devastatingly handsome; he still had innocent sparkly eyes, which meant he had always been a terrible person. She just had been blind to it until today.
“I am sorry for what you have heard,” he started in a grave tone. “That must have been terrible for you to hear.”
“That you kissed another woman?” Mary said scathingly. “Yes, that was not the most pleasant.”
“It was not like that …” Edmund suddenly realised that he had chosen his words wrong. He did not mean it to sound like something had happened. “What I mean to say is Lady Victoria Hartmon is not telling the truth about me.”
“So you have never met her?” Mary demanded. “You did not go to the Miller ball which happened after you first met me? You did not speak with her? You did not dance with her?”
“I did all those things,” Edmund admitted with his head hung low. “But it was not as it sounds.”
“Yes, you keep saying that.” Mary forced herself to turn away as her eyes filled up once more. “So what was it like? Please tell me. I would love to hear just what your side of the story is.”
Her heart raced quickly. In reality, she was not sure that she wanted to hear his side of the story after all, but she could not take it back now. She had already demanded that he tell her. To back down would show weakness which she simply could not do.
“I only went to the ball after our very first meeting because I did not believe that we would ever be able to find common ground …”
“So it did not even occur to you that you would be doing me a disservice by allowing my inheritance to fade away?” Maybe she was being unfair now, but she wanted Edmund to realise the full consequences of his actions. “Most people do not like each other when they first meet, and they continue to not like one another long after they get married. It is all about convenience. If you were going to rob me of my childhood home just because I did not please you right away, then the least you could have done is send me a letter so that I was aware.”
“I know,” Edmund replied quietly. “I should have; it was unfair of me. I think the reason I did not is that I did not want to shut the door on us right away. I wanted to be certain before I said no.”
Mary did not have an answer to that. Her intense anger had subsided just a little bit. If she was honest with herself, through the red mist that clouded her judgement, then she was making plans to be with anyone but the Duke as well. Maybe she could not blame him for that part, but she certainly could for what came after.
“I believe Lady Hartmon set her sights on me right away,” Edmund continued, taking advantage of the silence for a moment. “I believe she chose me because I am a wealthy man with a title, probably just the sort of man that she should be with.”
Mary knew Victoria; she had seen her before, and she hated how much she agreed with Edmund on that statement. She did not really consider herself to be beautiful enough for him, even if he did seem to like her, whereas Lady Hartmon was absolutely stunning. The sort of woman who would look gorgeous on his arm.
They will have the most beautiful children, she thought sadly. Maybe they deserve one another.
“She made a point of following me. I believe that she had a plan. She wanted us to be seen kissing so I would be forced into marrying her. She knew that if we were caught in such a compromising position, it would only be decent of me to make her my wife. She probably knows that I am a good man and that I would do it …” He took a step closer to Mary but was crushed when she took two steps back from him. Mary was nowhere near ready to forgive him quite yet. “But I did not want to. I was glad when I pushed her off to discover that no one saw us. I thought that I had escaped that fate when I put her straight, and I left. I did not know …” He sighed loudly and sadly. “I did not know that news of our engagement would cause such a reaction within her.”
Mary felt uncertain. There was a part of her that knew what Edmund was telling her could have been the truth. Victoria and the entire Hartmon family were known for being very ruthless to get what they wanted. It was how they had made such a success of themselves. She also could not deny that there definitely seemed to be something very real between her and Edmund. Something so powerful that she had never felt it before.
But the truth was she did not know Duke Edmund Smith as well as she thought she did. She trusted him too much, and it had not got her anywhere.
“I know that you are capable of it,” she whispered. It was almost difficult for Edmund to hear her; he had to really strain his ears. “We both know that you are capable of acting in a way that is not really decent.”
As Edmund watched Mary slide the ring off her finger, he felt utterly helpless. It was not supposed to go this way; she was supposed to listen to him, to hear his side of the story, and to get things back on track. As long as Mary believed him and did not care what Victoria was saying, then he would not either.
“What are you doing?” he asked her with a crestfallen face.
“I cannot be made a fool of,” she replied harshly. She took a step closer and extended the ring to him. He did not take it right away.
“I do not wish to make a fool out of you,” he insisted. “Please, do not end things like this. It is a shame to turn our backs on something so incredible.”
“I need time to think,” Mary added, finally forcing him to take the item of jewellery off of her. “I do not know what I want, but for now, it is only space.”
“I promise you, I would not do this to you, Mary. I would not do this to anyone, but especially not you.” Edmund could feel his levels of desperation getting higher by the second. “You know me, Mary; you have spent time with me. You have seen me in ways that others do not. Please do not throw this away. Please, do not give Victoria what she wants.”
Mary’s eyes snapped off the floor at that last comment. “Are you telling me that if you cannot marry me, then you will her?” Edmund shook his head vigorously, but unfortunately, the damage had already been done. Mary felt completely and utterly done with the conversation; she wanted to be alone once more. “Because if that is the case, then I suggest you are with her.”
“No, I …” Edmund did not like the way that comment had been taken, but he could not do anything about it. Mary had left the room, leaving him all by himself in an even deeper pit of despair t
han he was in before.
He sighed loudly and hung his head in shame. Maybe he should have taken his mother’s advice one step further. Maybe he should have kept away from Mary a little while longer until she had really cooled down … or he should have at least warned her about his intention to visit. He stared at the engagement ring in his hand wondering how it had all gone so terribly wrong.
I cannot fix this today, he warned himself. Mary is too angry. I must wait and try again. I will write her a letter in the meantime and try to make my feelings for her very clear.
All he knew for certain was that he would not give up. What he and Mary shared was not over yet.
Daisy raced after Mary up the stairs, her heart beating furiously. Mary was crying when she left; something the Duke had done had upset her terribly, and it was up to her friend to pick up the pieces.
When she got into Mary’s bedroom, she was stunned to see the young Lady grabbing items of clothing and throwing them determinedly into a bag that was much too small.
“What are you doing?” she gasped as she surveyed the unexpected scene in front of her.
“I am leaving,” Mary bit back. “I need to get to a place where he cannot find me. I have a feeling that Duke Smith does not intend to leave me alone until I agree to marry him again, which I do not intend to do.”
Daisy was not as relieved as she thought she would be to hear that statement, not when Mary was acting in such a way. “Where will you go?”
Mary did not even miss a beat; she knew exactly where she intended to be, with the one person that could protect her and that she could protect back. “I will be with my sister,” she said with an air of nonchalance. “Until I see fit to return.”
Chapter 17
Mary stirred under the sheets, discomfort floating through her system as something did not feel right. She was not sure where the odd sensation had come from, so she had to really prepare herself before she opened her eyes. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, and she could feel her breaths coming out sharp and ragged as a weird snake of panic curled itself in her stomach …
Where am I?
The first thought that burst into Mary’s brain was that the room was not recognisable. The odd pastel pinks and floral patterns that surrounded her were not anything that she would have chosen. This was not her bedroom at all.
Right, of course. I am in Charlotte’s home.
The memory of leaving her own home in a rushed, emotional state because she wanted to get away from Edmund flooded her mind. At the time, she felt utterly determined that she was doing the right thing, but as time slipped past her, she was not so sure. Maybe that was why after almost two weeks she still did not recognise where she was when she first woke up.
There was something about Charlotte’s home that felt very uncomfortable. Mary had noticed it on her first few visits, but as she was only there for a short period, it did not flash up as a real problem to her. Now it was all that she could think about. Charlotte’s husband, Lord Jones, did not seem keen on having Mary there, that was apparent right away, but it seemed to be more than that. There was a tension in their marriage that seemed very unnatural to Mary.
With a deep sigh, Mary swung her legs to the ground and leaned her head in her hands. Using her palms to rub the sleep out of her eyes, she felt distressed and desperately unhappy. This was not the plan at all. She was supposed to be happy right now; things were supposed to be working out. The mess with the inheritance should have been sorted, and she should be working slowly towards her wedding day. She should not be here, worrying about where her future lay.
On the dressing table in the spare bedroom that Mary was sleeping in sat a stack of letters that Walter had sent her. He desperately wanted to meet with her; there was a lot that needed to be sorted, but she could not face it right now. She needed to be in the right frame of mind before she talked to him, and she also needed to know what she wanted to do for sure.
I cannot sit here all day, Mary tried to encourage herself to move. Much as I do not have anything to do today, I cannot sit in bed.
As if to confirm that point, a light knocking sound on the door made Mary snap her eyes up towards it. She leapt up and straightened her nightdress before calling out, “Who is it?”
She thought it would be her sister, but instead of getting an answer, the bedroom door swung open, and Mary saw one of the maids standing on the other side. She did not know the staff at Charlotte’s home, and there seemed to be a real division between the staff and the family in the house. None of the maids ever met Mary’s eye, which she thought was a real shame. When she considered the friendship that she had with Daisy, she knew it was a missed opportunity.
Maybe if Charlotte made friends with the people who worked in her home, she would not be so sad.
“I have been sent to help get you dressed,” the maid said with a curtsy. “Lady Jones has requested that I come to help you get ready for breakfast.”
On her first day in Charlotte’s home, Mary tried her best to refuse help. She was used to it in her own home with the staff members that she had been around since she was a young child. It felt strange to show skin around strangers, but it seemed that refusal was not an option. Now, as uncomfortable as it felt, she had to accept it.
“Thank you,” she replied graciously. “I appreciate it.”
As the maid brought in a bowl of water, Mary started to pull her nightdress off. Her pale skin shone in the early morning sun, but it was not warm enough for her not to shiver. The maid dipped a flannel into the water, and she brushed it lightly over Mary’s skin. Mary glanced down at the girl, wanting desperately to break down the barriers in this household.
Maybe that is what I can do while I am here, she thought. Maybe I can make things better for my sister.
“What is your name?” she asked the maid in a soft, kind voice. “If you do not mind me asking.”
The maid raised her eyebrow at Mary and offered her a half smile. Her expression was a little twisted showing her confusion. “My name is Jennifer.”
Her voice was stiff and stilted. It was almost as if she did not know how to speak to someone of a different class. Mary found it very sad, and it made her miss Daisy even more. She had not really acknowledged how easy it was to talk to her friend until now.
“Oh, well my name is Mary. Please feel free to call me that if you like. I am not the Lady of this house after all.” Jennifer smiled but did not say anything. She focused her attention solely on washing Mary, which gave Mary more time to continue talking. “Do you like working here?” Of course, she was not going to get an answer to that one. “I suppose it is just different to me. It is not like my own home.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I wonder how Charlotte got used to it.”
Mary got lost in her thoughts for a moment, remembering what their childhood was like. She supposed it was always a little quiet and awkward too, but it did not ever feel so uncomfortable.
“Do you know what you wish to wear today, Lady Roberts?” Jennifer asked, completely bypassing the opportunity to call her Mary. “I can help you with that.”
“Oh, right, I do not know.” Mary felt too distracted to pick out what she wanted to wear. “Any of my dresses, I do not mind.”
Jennifer stepped back, not wanting to make that decision for Mary. She knew nothing about the finer dresses that Ladies wore, so there was no way she could choose for Mary. Mary could see her hesitation which she found a little frustrating, but she kept her emotions inside. She was supposed to be building a connection with Jennifer, not creating distance.
“This one shall be fine.”
Mary lost herself in her thoughts while Jennifer helped her to pull on her undergarments and then her dress. She barely even thought about her naked body for long enough to get embarrassed anymore. She was lost in her musings about her situation and her sisters.
She wished yet again that her father could still be here. Even if neither of the girls trusted his decision any longer, Mary kne
w that he could have helped them get out of this mess before it consumed them whole. He would never have left them both scared for what the future held.
Maybe her mother would have been a great help too. Maybe she would have been even better. Mary had never heard much about her because even mentioning her always upset her father and sister, but the snippets she had learned suggested that her mother was a fiery woman who did not take any nonsense.
Charlotte and I could have done with inheriting that gene, she thought sadly. This would all be sorted by now if we had.
“You are ready,” Jennifer said with a smile. “Your sister is waiting for you in the dining room.”
“Thank you,” Mary told her with a searching look. “I really appreciate it, Jennifer.”
She wished that Jennifer would tell her that she could always speak to her, just as Daisy once had, but she did not. She bobbed into another curtsy, keeping the professional distance between them.
I guess I am not going to get that friendship here; I should just accept that.
***
Charlotte did not dare to lift her head off the ground until her husband finally left the room. She felt tight and stressed whenever she was around him, but to her, life felt much better at the moment because her sister was around. Lord Jones had to keep his temper in check in front of others, and it also gave her someone to speak to.
“Shall …” She opened her mouth, just about to ask her sister if she wanted to take a walk with her when the booming voice of her husband interrupted her.
“Charlotte,” he yelled, the anger repressed but still evident. “Can I have a word with you, please?”
