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 knew 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?”
Mary widened her eyes in surprise. She had been made to feel uncomfortable by Lord Jones before, but she had never heard such venom in his voice. Judging by the way Charlotte’s shoulders hunched over and her face paled even more, this was not good news. She wished that there was something she could do to help out her sister, but of course, she could not. This was not her house, and Lord Jones was in charge.
“I ... I am just coming,” Charlotte replied with a shaky voice. “One second please.”
Her chair scraped back, and she automatically ran her hands down her skirts. The nerves rolled off of her in waves, making Mary feel sick to her stomach. That sensation only grew worse when Charlotte scurried from the room and raised voices immediately followed.
Mary’s eyes bounced from staff member to staff member until she found Jennifer. The girl was not her friend, but she was the only person she had spoken to. Jennifer did not look surprised by the shouting, which suggested it was something that happened all the time.
Does Lord Jones know that Charlotte is having a baby? Mary asked herself, noting that Charlotte had never mentioned her husband’s reaction to the news. Would he yell at her like this if he knew?
Pressure built up in Mary. It started in her toes and worked its way up her body. She felt icy cold, but her boiling hot blood was racing through her veins, making her shiver violently. She hated sitting in her seat; it felt unnatural. She wanted to take action, to do something, but she could not think of anything that would not make it worse. It seemed to be a very delicate situation that she simply did not understand.
Just as she felt herself rising from her seat, Charlotte came back around the corner with red rims around her eyes. “Let us take a walk in the gardens,” she commanded her sister. “I feel like I would like some fresh air.”
“Oh ... yes, of course.” Mary pushed herself into a standing position. “Whatever you like.”
Mary slid her arm through Charlotte’s, and she allowed herself to be pulled into the grounds of the Jones’ household. Her brain span desperately, and she dug deep into it to find the right words, but there was nothing there. It was not until the cool, fresh air washed over her that she felt her tongue loosen.
“I think we should get away from here,” she whispered, almost silently. “Me and you. We should escape.”
Charlotte twisted her neck to give her sister a surprised look. She was not expecting Mary to address the argument at all; it was normal for others to ignore things like that, but as she saw her sister’s face, she realised that Mary was trying to give her a moment of escapism. A hope that she might actually be able to get away from her horrible life.
It would not happen; both girls knew that, but it was nice to imagine it all the same.
“Oh yes,” Charlotte replied with a smile. “I think we should. You and I should take off; we should get a home of our own, and we should raise this baby, the two of us.”
"We could go to the countryside, maybe even live by the ocean,” Mary continued with the fantasy. “We could even live on a farm and be totally self-sufficient. Who says that you need a man in your life to survive?” Actually, the idea of never having a husband was more appealing than she thought it would be. “I believe that we could do just fine on our own.”
It started off as a joke, but the more that Charlotte thought about it, the more she liked the idea. If she did leave, she knew she would have to go very far so that Lord Jones would never find her, which would make things very challenging, but if she somehow found a way, it would be absolutely wonderful. Of course, Lord Jones was not the sort of man to let things go easily, especially not his young wife, so it was almost impossible ... but now that the idea was there in her mind, she did not think that she would be able to let it go.
“So,” she said with a gulp, trying to take her mind off things. “There is no chance for you and the Duke?”
Mary’s expression instantly hardened. “No. I do not believe so. I do not want a man who thinks it is alright to ruin another Lady’s reputation.”
“Are you sure that you are settled on that?” Charlotte was not fully convinced. She knew more about Lady Victoria Hartmon than Mary did, and she knew what she was like, and how terrible she treated people. But the end choice lay with Mary, and she would not take that away from her. “You think your decision is right?”
Mary nodded determinedly, and she kept her expression steely. “I believe so. I feel much better now knowing that he is not in my life.”
That part was a lie, but Charlotte did not need to know that. She did not want her sister worrying about her when she had so much of her own stress to deal with. With her horrible husband and a child growing in her stomach, the last thing she needed was to lay her problems on her shoulders too. This was something she needed to do on her own. She needed to reassure Charlotte that she was just fine.
“I am simply moving forward ... or at least I am trying to. He is not even in my mind anymore.”