Mara: A Georgian Romance

by Barbara T. Cerny

  Chapter 32

  Cecilia decided that Jake had to act the part as well. Everyone on the staff knew he loved Mara desperately, as his face hid nothing of that love. But he seemed to take this engagement a little too well.

  So he started acting depressed. Maybe even overacting. He stopped eating, picking at his food, even pushing aside the delicious apple pies Gigi made especially for him. Alvin snuck food into his room at night so he wouldn’t starve.

  Jake moped around, his shoulders bent, looking at the ground.

  He went about his work halfheartedly, taking twice as long to do even simple tasks. He drove Cal crazy.

  He tried to look tired as if he couldn’t sleep, rubbing his eyes and sighing a lot.

  He neglected his personal hygiene, no longer combing his hair, and wearing his clothes longer than he should before a washing. He stopped shaving, and the itchy beard drove him crazy. Mara at least made him brush his teeth. She drew the line at dirty teeth.

  He did such a good job he depressed the rest of the staff as well. Even Alvin and Cecilia, who knew it was an act, were miserable around him. Pretty soon, a somber mood took over the entire household. The servants were all saddened as they watched Jake lose the love of his life to the duke, and seemingly lose his mind, too.

  *****

  Cecilia and Mara were sitting in Mara’s room, mending some of Mara’s underthings, when an idea suddenly came to Mara.

  “Why don’t we sew the jewels into our clothing?”

  Cecilia looked at the chemise in her lap, up at Mara, then back at the chemise.

  “Yes,” she answered slowly. “That is possible. Make a little pocket right here,” she pointed to the front of the chemise, right between the breasts.

  “No, not there. Too many prying eyes looking at my décolletage. Someone might discover what we are doing. But little pockets are the right thing.”

  Mara stood up quickly, letting her sewing drop to the floor. She pulled open her wardrobe and started rustling around. Not finding what she wanted, she pulled open her dresser drawers, tossing garments right and left. She finally pulled out a petticoat and looked at it appraisingly.

  Cecilia had put her own sewing down to follow Mara around the room and retrieved the clothing her charge tossed everywhere.

  “I wonder, hmmm.” She sat back down. “Cecilia, do you have some patches of material?”

  Cecilia looked through her kit, and pulled out a swatch of white linen. “Will this do?”

  “Perfect.” Mara cut the little bit of material into a perfect square, and then carefully sewed three of the four sides to the petticoat. Then she went to her dresser, picked up a small earring, and dropped it into the makeshift pocket.

  “That is very clever. We must find a way to close it, though, to keep the gems from falling out.”

  “We could fill an entire petticoat with various-sized pockets to hold different types of jewelry. I will be able to walk around carrying a lot of weight in jewels, and no one will be the wiser.”

  “We’d have to make a petticoat out of sturdy material to keep it from ripping. Cotton or linen would work best. Wool or brocade would be too heavy and too hot.”

  “And it would have to tie around the waist so that either you or I could wear it, depending on the circumstances.”

  Cecilia smiled. “Brilliant, Miss Mara. Simply brilliant!”

  Mara smiled back. “We are quite the devious pair, aren’t we?”

  *****

  The wedding dress became the focal point of their plan. It couldn’t be a typical wedding gown, as Mara had to wear it inconspicuously during the kidnapping, and wedding dresses were conspicuous by nature. The lovely dresses Madame Poitier had made for her were hardly appropriate for a foray into the wilds of America.

  The dress could not be made by Madame Poitier, as she could not be trusted to keep their secret. So Cecilia consulted her network of merchant friends to find a good couturier who could keep her mouth shut. They found her in Madame Le Strange. Her shop was a fair distance, but that wasn’t a problem, since they had Jake to take them there in the carriage.

  Mara approached her parents with a second set of requests.

  “Mother, Father, I ask that you would grant me one more favor regarding the wedding.”

  “Of course, my dear. What now?”

  She turned to her mother. “I wish to use another seamstress to design and sew my wedding gown. It must be spectacular, and I want it to be a complete surprise. Please tell me what my budget is for the gown, and I will handle all the details.”

  Lady Maureen was highly disappointed. “My dear, I was so looking forward to visiting Madame Poitier with you!”

  “Mother, you may do whatever you like with the invitations and the catering, but I want to be responsible for the gown myself.” Mara stated this so emphatically that her mother reluctantly agreed. They would receive a budget from the duke, and ask him to set up an account at the clothier.

  They were just happy Mara’s outbursts had ceased, and that she seemed to be warming to the idea of marrying the duke.

  *****

  Madame Le Strange turned out to be perfect. Mara gave the duke her requirements at their next evening out, and he immediately set up a very generous account with the seamstress.

  Madame Le Strange took one look at Mara and clapped in delight to be creating a gown for such a fine specimen of a girl. Lady Mara had some unusual requests, but Madame Le Strange caught on quickly and realized this girl wanted to use the dress more than once. Clever, clever! Plus, she wanted some of the budgeted monies to go toward items for her ladies’ maid and her husband-to-be, who wouldn’t come to the store but whose measurements she’d be given. Again unusual, but Lady Mara must have a very generous heart to be thinking of the needs of others at a time like this.

  At their first meeting, Madame Le Strange took Mara’s measurements, talked about the design of the gown, and picked out materials for the other dresses and men’s clothing. She would spend the time until their next appointment determining the cost of the other items Mara had requested, so Mara would know how much money was left for the gown itself. That would determine the materials and design.

  Jake drove the women back and forth, and ran errands of his own while they were with Madame Le Strange. He went to the docks and spoke with the dock master to find out as much as he could about traveling to America.

  It was now mid-January, and passenger ships would begin sailing into London in the spring. Crates were the easiest to load, and the dock master showed Jake some crates that were awaiting loading. Jake took notes and measurements. Even horses and carriages of any size and shape could be shipped. On most ships, passengers had choices of full cabins, single rooms, or shared rooms with two, four, six, or eight occupants.

  The Charleston usually arrived in port the second week of April. It remained docked for three weeks for repairs, and to load supplies and new passengers. It would leave port April 28th. The Fleetwood, a much larger ship, would arrive in port the last week of April, and launch on June 4th. The journey to America would take six weeks.

  Mara set the wedding date for June 3rd.

  *****

  Several times a week, Mara forced herself to endure chaperoned “dates” with the duke. He was the most attentive fiancé, which drove Mara to distraction. He constantly gave her gifts, and forever popped to the house to pick her up for this social event or that soirée. She couldn’t turn him down, lest anyone become suspicious. So she put on a brave smile and endured his attentions and his frail, cold touch. She would never get used to his touch, which sent the wrong kind of shivers up her spine. Jake’s stroking sent shivers of love and hope and desire throughout her being. The duke’s touch sent shivers of dread and disgust up and down her back. But it was essential to keep up the pretense so no one would become suspicious about what brewed beneath the surface.

  *****

  One evening, Mara attended a dinner party at the charming home of the Earl and Co
untess of Shelburne. Mara was, as usual, the youngest woman in attendance, and men constantly fawned over, pawed, and ogled at her.

  The twenty attendees were in the parlor after dinner, having a bit of wine or brandy. Mara had been cornered by a peer and looked around in desperation, as she had a difficult time keeping the man’s hands to himself. She felt a warm and gentle touch on her arm, just as the Earl of Chatham moved his hand a little too low on her back.

  “Bernard,” said a very feminine voice, “I must steal this lovely young lady from you to discuss a matter of importance. The wedding, you know.”

  Mara turned to find Lady Sarah Hastings at her side. She had noticed her aunt’s sister during dinner, but had been seated at the other end of the table, and had not yet spoken with her.

  The earl grunted in disappointment, but didn’t want to be anywhere near women when they were conversing about a wedding! He moved on, looking for greener pastures elsewhere.

  Mara happily allowed Lady Sarah to lead her out of the parlor and into the dining room again, which was empty except for a couple of servants whisking away the dirty dinnerware.

  “Lady Sarah,” she exclaimed. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you! That man is such a bore, and tries to take such liberties. I need eight arms to keep up with his roving hands!”

  Lady Sarah chuckled. “You probably wish you were fat and invisible again. I was actually very surprised to hear you were Madame Butterfly. Until I saw you tonight, I wasn’t able to conceive of the fat little girl I saw at Rochcliffe House transformed into the incredible vision of beauty at the Masque. But now that I see you, I realize why the duke is so enamored with you, and men like the earl wish to pester you. The life of a beautiful woman is not easy, as I am sure you have discovered.”

  Mara stared at Lady Sarah, wondering how the older woman could so easily understand how she was feeling. How many times had she wished she had stayed fat and happy with Jake and the boys? How many times had she regretted debuting as Madame Butterfly? How many times had she wished she had never told her parents the truth? She would not be facing this horrendous marriage if she had remained fat, invisible Mara.

  Lady Sarah watched the range of emotions that crossed Mara’s face, and she knew she had hit home with that comment. This young woman regretted every moment of her life since becoming Madame Butterfly, and that was as plain as the nose on her lovely face.

  She looked around to see where the servants were. Then she leaned in close to Mara and said in a low voice, “What are you doing with the duke? What about Jake? He loves you to distraction, you know. How could you do this to him?”

  Mara gulped. How should she to respond to this woman? She couldn’t reveal the truth of her feelings for Jake. “I know. But he is…is a stable boy…and I…am a member of the aristocracy. He and I…it wouldn’t…”

  “You are lying, Mara. This is killing you, and I know it must be destroying Jake.”

  Mara hung her in head in shame, her red hair falling to her knees. “It is killing us,” she whispered. “But there is nothing we can do. And you are right. I wish I still was fat and invisible. My family made me so miserable that I just didn’t want to be fat and ugly anymore. I thought being thin and pretty would make me happy, and make my family love me. Alas, it has simply ruined my life completely.”

  Lady Sarah patted Mara’s knee sympathetically as she let the girl continue talking. “Jake and I don’t even see each other that often, as one of my parents is almost always with me whenever I am not with the duke. It is almost as if they think I will run away or do something improper. And believe me, I think about doing something improper quite often.” She sighed. “I feel so desperate.”

  “Well, my dear, don’t do anything foolish.” Lady Sarah picked up both of Mara’s hands in hers. “Although I think your mother and my sister believe this is the best thing that ever happened to a Markham.” They both smiled at the obvious truth behind that statement.

  Lady Sarah continued. “I am going to give you a bit of practical advice. It might be hard to hear, but it is the way life works. Marry the duke, no matter how unpleasant that may be. Once you are a duchess, you will be quite powerful, and the world will be in your hands. Jake can be a part of your world. Spend as much time away from London at the country estates as possible, and bring Jake along. Tell the duke he is an excellent stable hand, and you couldn’t do without him. Bring that young gardener with you, too, so it doesn’t look so obvious. Then take Jake as your lover. It is the way of the aristocracy—the way we all keep our sanity. Marriages are made for money and titles; mistresses and lovers are taken for happiness.”

  Mara looked aghast. She couldn’t imagine marrying the duke and relegating Jake to the position of secret lover. That would devastate him. She knew they had a good plan in place; all she had to do was placate Lady Sarah. “I…I suppose that is good advice. I can see where it is very practical, if not very moral.”

  “Morals have nothing to do with it, darling. You are being sold to the highest bidder by your parents, so you need to fight back any way you can. Taking a lover as a duchess is a very acceptable way of fighting back. And who knows; perhaps a couple of vigorous encounters with the duke in the boudoir just might bring an end to the old goat, and then you will be free. It has worked wonders for me.”

  Mara remembered Sarah had had to endure a similar arranged marriage, but that she was now her own woman with money, status, and title. She couldn’t blame the woman for her jaded view of marriage, as she had also been bartered away by her parents. Mara wondered if there would ever be a time when marriage would no longer be a financial transaction, where women were bought and sold like chattel.

  The conversation with Lady Sarah made Mara even more desperate to escape her current situation. Living in America with Jake would be much better than keeping him as a lover at the duke’s estate.

  Chapter 33

  They needed to book the trip. The Fleetwood had arrived, and their fares had to be paid. The ship would leave in a little over five weeks. Two problems remained: what names would they use, and where would they get the money to finance the trip?

  “Our new names must be ones we’ll remember, or we will never answer to them or remember to use them.” Mara’s logic seemed sound to the others.

  Jake laid his head back and closed his eyes. They were in their customary gathering place—the attic—late at night.

  “Mmmm. Jacob James Abbot. What do you do with that?”

  “Use James,” suggested Alvin.

  “My name is Mara Elizabeth Markham. I can be Elizabeth.”

  “I am Ellen then, as my middle name is Ellen,” commented Cecilia.

  “I would be George.”

  They all looked at Pete, who hung his head. “I will get laughed at.”

  They all promised not to laugh.

  “Pierson.”

  “Your middle name is Pierson? Where on earth did that come from?”

  “It was my mother’s maiden name, I think.”

  “Brilliant! My mother’s maiden name was Abrams. I will be James Abrams!”

  “Ellen Fullington!”

  “George Martin!”

  “Pierson Pierson?”

  They all laughed again.

  “I think you had best pick a name out of a hat, Pete. That ain’t gonna work!” Luke poked him in the ribs.

  “Well, Max’s last name is Davis. I should be able to remember that, as I hear it all the time at the smithy and am used to it.”

  “There we go!” Mara clapped her hands in delight. We are James, Elizabeth, Ellen, Pierson, and George. Alvin, you will keep your name, as you must remain behind.”

  “I wish I was going with you. I feel so left out sometimes.”

  Mara patted his leg. “Alvin, you have the most important job of all. For an entire year, you must keep people believing we are still in England. You must sneak the letters to my parents. You must make people believe you are mourning the loss of friends. You have to keep
them from learning the truth. And then you have to travel to America by yourself. That is no small role, my friend. No small role at all.”

  Alvin puffed out his chest at her words of praise and encouragement. “You are right. Ain’t gonna be easy under the scrutiny of you father, so I have to be the best actor of us all!”

  The rest of them mumbled their assent as they talked among themselves for a few moments.

  Jake finally got their attention again. “We need to sell some jewels. That is the only way we have to pay for passage. We need £118.”

  “One hundred and eighteen pounds? Blimey! That is a fortune, man. Just to take a bloody ship across the ocean?”

  “Actually we need £128 so we will have enough to leave with Alvin for his voyage. When I talked to the man at the ticket office, he said the ship will fill up fast. They start selling travel documents four weeks out—that would be next week.” He looked down at a piece of paper he had taken from his back pocket.

  “Since Mara and I will book a suite, we are £15 each. Cecilia is another £10, as she will be in the smaller room in the suite. Pete and Luke are £8 each, and I want to leave ten behind for Alvin just in case the cost of a ticket rises between now and next year. That will also allow him a few shillings to give to the boys who deliver the letters. The horses are £5 each, for a total of £50, and we will pay transport fees for the two wagons, the carriage, and the crates at a cost of £12. That in grand total is £128.”

  They all stared at him, mouths gaping wide. “Bloody fortune!” Pete repeated.

  “We will also have to pay for food for ourselves and the animals. Many people don’t have money to cover all their costs, and will become indentured servants for seven years when they arrive in America. We should consider ourselves lucky. At least that is what the ticket man said.”