Chapter 21
Mary could not concentrate on anything that Charlotte was saying to her. She could see her sister’s lips moving, and she was very aware that there were words coming out of those lips, but her brain just could not hear them. It was as if there was something in her way, blocking her, preventing her from acting normally.
Something is wrong, she thought desperately as her gut twisted painfully. Something is very wrong.
She was not sure where the sudden burst of fear had come from or why she was so scared by it, but it was there, and it was very, very real. She glanced at Charlotte, trying to work out whether it had come from her or not. She knew that things were not good between her and her husband and that things had become even more strained since he finally discovered – in what sounded like a very unpleasant way – that she was having his baby, but that was not the source of her terror.
No, it is something outside of this house, she decided. Something is going on that is not in this house ... but what?
Then it struck her.
“Oh my goodness,” she gasped loudly, her shoulders hunching up around her ears, her hands wringing together rapidly. “Oh, no.”
“Wait, what?” Charlotte could not understand why Mary was acting so strangely. Merely a moment ago, they were having an extremely calm conversation about what flowers Charlotte would have preferred the gardener to plant when it was springtime, and now Mary was acting as if something terrible had happened. “Mary, what is going on?”
“Walter,” Mary panted. “Mr Thompson. I have not heard from him in a while. I wrote to him quite a while ago, and I have not heard a reply.”
“Right.” Charlotte nodded slowly. She examined Mary closely, trying to work out what had her in such a panicked state. One that really seemed to come from nowhere. “I see. Why are you so worried about this? Does it not always take a while?”
“I do not know.” Mary could not explain it, even to herself. She just did not know. “But I have a feeling that it is bad news. He is usually very prompt. I do not know why, but I feel that something has happened.”
“You think the house has not sold?” Charlotte furrowed her brow in confusion. “I am sure Mr Thompson will let you know as soon as there is something to know. Why are you so worried? Is it because ...”
Charlotte had the horrible feeling that her sister did not like it in her home. She did not like it there either, but there was nothing that she could do about that. Maybe she should have been preparing herself to lose Mary, eventually; she knew she could not remain indefinitely, but she had not. And now she was not ready to let her go.
“I believe we should go and see him,” Mary insisted frantically. “I do not know why, but I think I need to see him face to face to discover the truth.” She could see Charlotte giving her a confused look, and she did not know how to explain herself. “I cannot explain it, but there is something in my chest telling me that I need to go.” She opened her eyes wide, pleading with her sister. “Please, understand me. I know it is impossible to understand when I am acting so crazy, but please. Just believe me. Something is wrong; I just know it. I need to go and see for myself.”
“Yes,” Charlotte agreed rapidly. Not because she knew what Mary was trying to tell her, but because she wanted to get out of the house. She had not realised how isolated she had become until her sister came along and she started to make her go to all of these places; Mr Thompson’s home, their old house ... she loved it all just because it was not here. “Of course, let us go. We will put your mind at ease. You will soon see that everything is just fine.”
Mary nodded and gulped. “Yes, I do hope that you are right.” But she did not believe that Charlotte was right. She had a feeling that her instincts were correct instead. “Thank you, Charlotte, I appreciate you taking this seriously.”
***
“He is gone.” Charlotte could not believe it. She clutched onto her stomach as shock swam around her rapidly. “You were right, Mary. He is gone.”
Neither girl could believe it; it was worse than either of them expected. They had both managed to relax on the journey to see Mr Thompson, even Mary started to convince herself that she had allowed her mind to get twisted up in knots because being inside Lord Jones’ home was driving her crazy, but now she could see that her instincts were right in the first place. She should have trusted her gut again.
“This ... this might not be what it seems.” Mary gulped her emotion down. She needed to remain strong for Charlotte. Her sister had a child growing inside of her, and she needed to ensure that baby did not endure stress inside Charlotte’s womb because of this situation. But it was not easy to find anything to be positive about with the overwhelming evidence in front of them. “Maybe ... maybe he has just moved home, and he forgot to tell us. Maybe that is the reason I have not received a letter from him. He simply forgot to tell me.”
Charlotte turned to give her sister a glare. “Do you really believe that is what happened?” Her hands fell onto her hips as a red-hot burning rage overcame her. “Do you honestly think that he forgot to tell you that he is selling his own home when he has been doing the same for us?”
“Well, I do not know.” Mary shrugged her shoulders as she tried so hard to find something else to offer Charlotte. The last thing she wanted was to accept what was standing right in front of her. “But it is possible ...”
“It is not possible, Mary. You need to start thinking more sensibly. We need to work out what his motivation might have been.” Charlotte tapped her chin thoughtfully. “He did not seem to keen on your idea if we really think about it. He did not jump on the opportunity to do what you were suggesting, which was the easiest and most obvious solution.” Charlotte did not know where she was going with this train of thought, but it was running through her brain. “And why not? Did he have another plan all along? Something else that he wanted to do?” Charlotte pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, and she peered through the window. “Do you think it is possible he left Father’s will inside there? Maybe he did not give you all the information for a reason.”
“He was always very strange about it,” Mary replied carefully. “And he would not ever let me see it, but I do not think that Father would allow something horrible to happen to us ...”
“No, I do not either.” Charlotte shook her head rapidly. “But maybe he did not want you to see that there was an alternative to marrying Duke Smith for a reason. Maybe ... could he have been planning this all along?” She ran her fingers through her hair in distress. “Could he have wanted to sell our family home and steal the money?”
Mary’s heart thundered; she could feel it banging painfully against her ribcage. If what Charlotte was suggesting was the truth, then they were both stuck. Charlotte would not have an option to escape her terrible marriage if that was what she wanted, and Mary would not have anywhere to live. She would be lost, homeless, and penniless. She would have even less than the working class people that she saw. Mary tried to picture herself in that position, living in squalor, struggling for food, with nothing to wear ... if she ended up like this, then her petty problems that she had right now would seem ridiculous. She would wish that she had just married Duke Smith when she had the chance, whatever he had done to other people.
A tear filled her eye; she could not accept this. This was not what she wanted to happen. She had made all these plans, and she wanted at least some of them to happen. For her and Charlotte’s sake. She could not believe that Walter would take off with her inheritance, leaving the girls with nothing. Maybe he would try to justify it by suggesting that she did not marry the Duke, that she did not marry anyone, but that was not fair. He did not deserve the money; it was never his.
Now, she could not help anyone. Not herself, not her sister, not Daisy.
I have let everyone down.
“How will we find out the truth?” she asked Charlotte, needing to rid her brain of any negative thoughts so she did not get lost within them. “What will we do?”
“We need to go to our house,” Charlotte said determinedly. “We need to see what is going on with our family home. That is the only way we will get our answers. There is still a chance that this is all innocent at the moment. There is no point in getting upset over something we do not fully understand.”
Mary pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away a stray tear. “Yes.” She nodded. “You are right, Charlotte. That is what we should do.”
Mary followed her sister away from Walter’s house, hating everything that was going on around her. She needed somehow for this to all be alright, but there was still that feeling in her gut that it was not ... and her instincts had been right too many times.
***
As the girls walked back into Lord Jones’ home, it was with very heavy hearts. They were shell-shocked; they could hardly believe it. There was no scope for hope anymore; every shred of it had been slashed. There was truly nothing left.
“It is all gone,” Mary whispered. “I have nothing. I am destitute. The house has been sold; it now belongs to another family, and Walter is nowhere to be found. He has stolen the family fortune and left me with nothing. I thought ...”
She stopped herself there because she did not know what she thought. She certainly did not think that she and Walter were friends; he had never shown her any like. But she never thought he was the sort of person who would do anything like this.
Charlotte felt it too, but not as acutely. She did not vocalise it at any rate. She had her husband and her home. Much as she did not like it, she still had that support network around her. Mary no longer had anything. It was her that would suffer. Right now, they both needed to focus all of their attention on her.
“No one will want to marry me now,” Mary continued, spiralling into sadness. “Not even His Grace, Duke Smith. Everyone will know that I have been foolish, that I have been robbed. Word about this will get around very quickly. I would not be surprised if everyone already knew. They will know that I have been foolish, that I have lost the family fortune.” She glanced up at Charlotte apologetically. “This will affect you too. It might make things worse ... for you.”
“Do not worry about me,” Charlotte insisted, now taking on the role of trying to be strong. “I know it does not seem alright at the moment, but we shall find a way to make it work. Somehow, we will make all of this not so terrible.”
Charlotte reached out to embrace her sister, but Mary did not want anyone to hold her. She was trying her hardest to hold herself together, and any sympathy would send her right over the edge.
“No, I think I shall go to bed,” Mary said sadly. “I think I just need some time alone in my room if that is alright. I just need some time and space to think.”
As Charlotte watched her sister walking away, determination swirled inside of her. She was not sure how, but she wanted to help Mary. She thought that she was the one who needed help, but as it turned out, she was the one who was needed to help.
What can I do? she thought desperately as she walked through the house. How can I help Mary? Who can I turn to?
There was one person, but Charlotte could not tell whether or not it was a good idea. There were many arguments in her head for and against the plan. On the one hand, the girls could not deal with this alone, and without any direct family surviving, there was not anyone else ... but he had also hurt their family, and Mary might never want to see him again.
It was a dilemma, but Charlotte needed to figure something out.
With a burst of determination, she decided to head to her husband’s writing desk to pen out a letter. Maybe she would send it; maybe she would decide against it, but doing something felt much better than doing nothing. She had spent the last six years of her life doing nothing, and it had not gotten her anywhere. She would not let the same happen to her sister.
Mary felt numb as she collapsed onto her bed sheets; she was utterly stunned by the events of the day. One moment, she was having a normal conversation with Charlotte, and the next she was having the foundation of her life pulled out from underneath her. Everything that she had depended on was gone, and now she had absolutely nothing to look forward to.
Could there be some other explanation? She still searched desperately within for something other than a shattered life. Could Walter be up to something much more innocent?
But deep down, she knew. Things like that did not happen. Now, she would be the centre of gossip, and everyone would be talking about her. Everyone would know about her terrible situation.
For some reason, the person whose opinion about all of that which bothered her most was Edmund’s. It should not have been; he certainly did not care what she thought when he kissed another Lady, but she could not help herself. She just did not want him to find out ever. She could not stand his pity, maybe his bemusement since she had been so dismissive of him; she did not want him to learn of this.
And now I cannot escape London, at least not without great difficulty. It seems that I am stuck here, with all of my mistakes around me, for a very long time.