by Fanny Walsh
He cursed himself for being so thoughtless and impulsive with his request. Fear struck him, and he realized that he may well have frightened Mary off with his brazen move.
Duncan took a deep breath. He felt grave remorse for frightening Mary, but he could not make himself regret the act of kissing her. He knew well that he could have lost her today, and that thought had shaken him to his very soul.
Despite his previous acknowledgment of his feelings for her, Duncan had not realized the true depth of them until today. He had very nearly lost Mary, and the idea that he would never get to kiss or hold such an extraordinary, kind woman had rattled him to his core.
He had taken a great liberty by kissing her, but he was not sorry he had done it. He was only sorry he had made her run away, and he hoped that he had not scared her off forever.
Duncan could hear Mary in the front of his office sobbing. He realized that she had not gotten far, and he raced after her, hoping to catch her before she got to the exit. He prayed that he could do something to make things right with her.
Duncan saw Mary just as she was pushing open the interior door to his office entrance hall.
“Mary, wait, please,” he said. Mary stopped moving but did not turn to face him.
“The last thing I ever wanted was to frighten you away,” Duncan said. Again, Mary did not move, nor did she speak.
“I cannot begin to explain my behavior, but I do apologize for upsetting and frightening you,” Duncan said, hoping for a miracle.
At last, Mary turned around. Duncan could see tears streaming down her face, and he felt his stomach twist with guilt. He had not meant to upset her at all, and certainly not enough to make her cry.
He felt like an utter cad, and again he hoped that, by some miracle, he could repair the damage he had done.
“Oh, Mary, please do not cry,” he said. “I am truly sorry for angering you so.”
Mary gave him a small smile.
“No,” she said, her voice trembling. “I am not angry with you for kissing me.”
Duncan blinked, surprised.
“Then why did you run from me?” he asked.
Mary took a moment to compose herself. Duncan took a tentative step towards her and, without touching her, gestured for her to sit in one of the waiting room chairs. He hoped to help her calm down before she left the office. After her earlier breakdown, Duncan worried about the effect any additional emotional stress might have on Mary.
Mary hesitated for a moment. Then, she took a seat as she spoke.
“I ran from you because I do not want to fall in love with anyone,” she said.
Duncan felt his heart skip. In love? He stared at her in awe, unsure of what to say.
“What are you saying?” Duncan asked at last.
Mary dabbed at her eyes.
“Everyone about whom I have truly cared has died. I fear that that will continue to be true,” she said.
Understanding dawned on Duncan.
“And you believe that the same thing will happen to me?” Duncan asked.
Mary nodded.
“I believe that wholeheartedly,” she said, her voice dropping to just a whisper. “And I could not bear to lose anyone else I love.”
Duncan approached Mary and took the seat next to hers. He took her hands in his. He desperately wanted to reassure Mary, to put her fears to rest.
“Mary, darling, nothing is going to happen to me,” he said gently. Duncan expected Mary to withdraw her hands, but instead, she softly squeezed his.
“But Duncan, if I have indeed slighted someone so much that they wish me dead, they certainly would not hesitate to kill you, too.”
Duncan’s heart thumped. Her desire to protect him was as strong as his to protect her. He knew she must care about him a great deal to be so concerned, and he smiled.
“It is my job to protect you,” he said. “You must not worry yourself with trying to protect me.”
Mary shook her head.
“I simply could not stand it if whoever is trying to kill me were to take you from me,” she said, beginning to cry again.
Duncan wiped a tear from her cheek, then brought her hands to his lips and kissed them softly.
“Mary, my darling, I promise you, nothing bad will happen to me,” he said.
Mary looked at him, hope forming in her eyes.
“You cannot know that,” she said, but her tears had ceased once more.
“I can, Mary,” he said. “And I promise you, I am not going anywhere .”
***
The next day, Duncan decided to go to his family home. He had it on good authority that his father was away on business until the following week, so he would have plenty of time to visit the old homestead and take a look through some of his mother’s things.
On his way out of town, he invited Julius to come along. After his emotional confessions to Mary, he felt he could use his friend’s support and quirky sense of humor. However, Julius was preparing for a business trip of his own and would be unable. So, he made the trip alone.
When he arrived, he was greeted by a butler he did not recognize. The tall man approached him, his face smiling, but his eyes wary.
“May I help you?” the butler asked.
Duncan bowed to the man.
“My name is Duncan Winstanley. I just came to pay my family home a visit,” he said.
The man’s face warmed instantly.
“Lord Tornight, what a pleasure,” the butler bowed in return. “My name is Thomas Hershel. I am your father’s new butler.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Duncan said, his tone warm, but his face confused. How had the man recognized his name? He sincerely doubted that his father would have bothered mentioning his son to anyone unless out of necessity.
Hershel seemed to read Duncan’s confusion.
“Some of the older servants speak very highly of you,” he said. “Your father is out, but please, come in.”
“Thank you,” Duncan said gratefully.
The two men entered the house. Despite his father’s absence, Hershel announced Duncan’s arrival. Immediately, two of the maids he remembered from his childhood rushed into the entryway. They had always been maternal toward him, and he thought of them as aunt figures. Aside from a little gray hair, they looked as if they had not aged a day since he had left.
“Milord, it is wonderful to see you again,” the shorter, stouter one gushed.
Duncan bowed to the women.
“Likewise, Lydia,” he said, beaming at her. “And it is wonderful to see you, as well, Nancy.”
The tall, thin maid blushed and curtseyed.
“What brings you here?” Nancy asked.
“I wanted to look through some of my mother’s things, if that is alright,” he said.
“Of course, milord,” Lydia said.
Nancy nodded fervently.
“We shall have some tea and cakes prepared for you at once,” Nancy added.
“Thank you, ladies,” Duncan said.
The maids rushed out as quickly as they had rushed in. Duncan could hear them chatting excitedly as they exited. He smiled again, glad to see some familiar, friendly faces.
“Shall I have the kitchen staff prepare dinner for you?” Hershel asked.
Duncan shook his head.
“No, thank you, Hershel. I must get back to my clinic,” he said. This was partly true, but he mostly wanted to get back for Mary.
The butler looked a little disappointed but nodded.
“Very well, milord. Please, just call for me if you have need for anything.”
“Thank you,” Duncan said, bowing again. The butler again returned the bow, then left Duncan to his own devices.
Duncan climbed the stairs to the second floor, memories flooding his mind. He had walked down these stairs many times to accompany his mother to dinner whenever his father would take his meals in his study, which was often. He had even helped his mother back up the stairs on a few occasions whenever the wine they
had with dinner went to her head.
He smiled as he remembered how they would laugh as they ascended the stairs on those evenings. He missed his mother dearly.
As he had hoped, his mother’s things were still in her old quarters. His father had never bothered to pack up her belongings, and now Duncan was grateful for that negligence. He went straight to his mother’s vanity, wiping a thick layer of dust off the table and mirror.
He realized with a bitter chuckle that his father must have told the servants not to waste their time cleaning this room.
“Oh, Father, you never cease to disgust me,” he murmured to himself.
At first, he did not see his mother’s old jewelry box. For a moment, he feared that his father had decided to sell his mother’s jewelry, merely out of spite.
Then, he spotted it, peeking out from under one of his mother’s handkerchiefs. Duncan recognized it as the one she used to use to dampen and dab his face when he was ill. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands gently, and tears stung his eyes.
He blinked and cleared his throat and tucked the handkerchief into the pocket of his coat.
Before Duncan could open the box, there was a light tap at the open door. He turned to see Lydia and Nancy standing in the door, holding trays with tea and an array of cakes.
“Thank you both. Please, come in” Duncan said kindly, gesturing for the women to enter.
The women came into the room and placed the trays on his mother’s small desk that sat in the corner of the room.
“We have so missed having you here, milord,” Lydia said.
Duncan smiled.
“I wish I could say the same,” he said. “But I have dearly missed the both of you.”
The women beamed at him.
“How have you been keeping?” Nancy asked.
“Very well, thank you,” he said. “How have things been here?”
“Your father is… well, your father,” Lydia said. Nancy nodded her agreement.
“That, he is,” he said dryly, looking again at the dust all over his mother’s room.
It was no secret, even to the house staff, that his relationship with his father had always been strained and tenuous. It seemed that the staff shared Duncan’s distaste for the older man. However, he paid them well, and was only verbally unkind to them from time to time, so most of them stayed.
“I met Hershel,” Duncan said. “Whatever happened to Dansen?”
The faces of the two maids fell.
“He died a few months ago. Pneumonia,” Lydia said.
Duncan gaped. His father had not even bothered to tell him.
“Did father send for a doctor?” he asked, his stomach sinking, as he already knew the answer.
“No,” Nancy whispered. “He had us care for him. We did the best we could, but—” she trailed off, and Duncan saw tears in her eyes.
“It was not your fault,” Duncan reassured the women. He was furious, but not at them. If his father had told him, he would have gladly tended to Dansen, free of charge.
Lydia nodded.
“Are you sure that you will not stay for dinner?” she asked.
Duncan smiled, now wishing he had made plans to stay longer.
“I cannot stay this time, I am afraid,” he said. “However, I promise to visit again whenever father is away again.”
At this, the women brightened. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the women returned to their duties, leaving him alone once more.
Duncan picked up the small jewelry box and took it to the desk, where his tea and cakes awaited him. He seated himself in his mother’s old chair and helped himself to a couple of the cakes before opening it up.
They were as moist and delicious as those he remembered from his childhood, and he guessed that much of the kitchen staff must also be the same. He made a mental note to keep his promise to Nancy and Lydia and return again when his father was away, so he could reunite with all the staff.
With any luck, the next time he returned, it would be with Mary as his wife, and he could introduce her to the staff he had come to think of as family.
At last, Duncan opened the box. After some rummaging, he found that which he sought. He pulled out a beautiful, gold diamond ring. He examined it, pleased that it looked to be just Mary’s size.
His heart soared at the thought of putting it on Mary’s finger. Then, he froze. He had told Mary that he was not going anywhere, but did he really have the right to make such a promise? What if he really did go mad?
He could easily begin losing his mind and leave her without even realizing it was happening. What would that do to her? For the first time since proposing to Mary, he began to second guess himself.
He sat for several moments, turning the ring over in his hands. He cared very much for Mary, and wanted more than anything to marry her, but the fear of his family’s madness made him unsure.
“Oh, Mother,” Duncan said aloud. “How I wish you were still here.”
As if she had heard his words, something his mother had said to him many years before came to mind.
“You must not give up on something just because you are frightened,” she had said whenever he had first told her that he wished to do something else with his life, rather than joining the family business. He had not yet decided to pursue medicine, but he knew he wanted to be out from under his father.
“Perhaps you are right,” he said, answering his mother’s advice aloud.
He could not let the best thing that had ever happened to him slip away just because he was afraid. Denying himself happiness and love would make for a terrible life.
And, if Mary did indeed care for him, too, he would be taking those things from her, which was worse. He reasoned that it was better to have true love and a full, content life, for whatever time he might have, than to have never had those things at all.
“Yes,” he said to himself, rising from his mother’s chair. He looked at the ring one last time, then put it in his pocket next to the handkerchief, resolving to give it to Mary the next time he saw her. He returned the jewelry box to its spot on the vanity, then exited to the room.
At the bottom of the stairs, he called for Lydia and Nancy.
“You must return as soon as you can,” Lydia said, reminding him of his promise as he bade them farewell.
“I will,” he said. “Will you give my regards to the rest of the staff?”
“Of course, milord,” Nancy said.
“Thank you again, both of you,” Duncan said, his heart swelling with memories and love for the women.
They both curtsied and walked him to the door.
“Oh, and be sure that the cakes and tea I did not finish do not go to waste,” he said with a knowing smile. He knew his father did not allow or offer his servants special treats, not even on holidays or special occasions. As a child, he used to try to sneak cakes and other sweets to some of the staff. Apparently, the two women remembered, as well, because they returned his smile.
“You are too gracious, milord,” Lydia said.
He bid a final farewell to both the maids and Hershel. Then, with one final look toward the house, he left.
Chapter 23
Mary listened to Duncan’s words with a mixture of fear and hope. She wanted to believe that everything would be fine, and that Duncan would not be in any danger, but she could not completely convince herself that he would be safe.
Still, his certainty had been reassuring, and she had left his office feeling somewhat better about the situation.
Now, back at home, she found herself shuffling the papers around on her desk, unable to focus her attention on any of them. She had a great deal of work she needed to do, but all she could think of was Duncan’s kiss.
It had felt so right, and his lips upon hers had felt so sweet and soft. Despite the events of the day, Mary allowed herself to smile. She was beginning to believe that, if they could find the person responsible for attempting to kill her, she and Duncan could ma
ke things work between them and be quite happy together.
She would never have thought it possible, but it was seeming as if she might have a chance at the life she has always envisioned, after all.
Mary imagined what it would be like to be married to Duncan. He had already proven to be incredibly kind and gentle, and she knew he would be very good to her.
