Chapter 8
As the carriage took Mary past the row of shops along the main street in London, she gazed out the window with a wish in her heart. She would have loved the chance to wander into one of them, to pick out the outfit that she wanted, and to maybe have some fun along the way.
But that was not becoming of a Lady. Stepping out of the carriage and moving freely among the shops was something that was just not done. That was why she had to go to a special dressmaker instead. She would visit Gloria in her home to get measured and to pick out the fabrics and design of the dress that she required. Usually, that was something that she enjoyed very much, but today, she could not muster up the enthusiasm at all. With her future hanging in the balance, she could not get excited about anything. She had only decided to come out to get a new dress to show Walter that she was making an effort. She hoped that if she could start attending society events with the hope of finding a husband that she actually liked, he would relent. Mary felt that he was sticking to her father’s vague rules too strictly.
“Are you feeling alright?” Daisy asked Mary. Once she made the decision to go to see Gloria, she asked her new friend to come with her. It was under the pretence that she would help to dress and undress the Lady if there was anything she decided to try on, but really it was for the friendship. “You have gone very pale.”
Mary smiled to herself, enjoying the way that Daisy felt more comfortable around her now. Once, she would never have been brave enough to speak without being spoken to, but now she felt content enough to ask questions about her appearance. That was a change that Mary found rather refreshing. “I am quite well, thank you, Daisy. I am just thinking.”
“Yes, I presume that you have a lot to think about, considering the area of town that we are in.”
Mary’s eyes automatically glanced outside once more, only this time she was given a wholly different view of the city. Things had dramatically changed from the lovely street of shops to a place where much poorer people lived. It was not the poorest part of the city, but it was bad enough to have Mary’s heart thumping wildly.
The homes were cramped and dirty; grime spilled down the brickwork like it belonged there. People in filthy brown and beige clothing yelled loudly at one another in what Mary considered a very uncouth manner, and children ran and screamed. From the day she could speak, Mary had been told that children should be seen and not heard. Clearly, the same rules did not apply here. There was even one man who had fallen to the floor in an apparent drunken state. A wet patch stained his trousers which made Mary avert her eyes quickly.
No wonder Charlotte was affected by this ... we have spent our whole lives being sheltered from this side of life.
Mary’s stomach churned while her pulse raced, and her whole body shook.
Then her eyes spotted something even worse, something that made her heart stop dead. A young girl, possibly the same age as Mary, stood just outside a pub with what looked like material wrapped around her for a dress. The garment had absolutely no structure and fell off her shoulder, almost as if it were designed to reveal as much of her body as possible. She clutched a fan between her fingers and peered seductively at the men who loitered near her.
She must be a street girl, Mary thought in a panic. A girl who sells her body for money.
Despite Charlotte’s offer, Mary could not help thinking that she would end up as a street girl when she rejected marriage to the Duke and she lost everything. It was like a nightmare that plagued her in the back of her brain ... but it was always a mysterious thought. Not something that she knew anything about. Seeing a real-life street girl standing in front of her made the nightmare all too real.
“You have a kind heart.” Daisy interrupted Mary’s thought pattern, causing her to jump. “Like I said to you before, there are not many people who care much about the living conditions of the working classes. Even if there is never anything that you can do, it is enough that you care.”
I care because I might end up as one of them, Mary thought desperately, her eyes welling up with tears.
“Th ... thank you,” she stammered as a reply instead. Even if Daisy was more her friend now, this was something she could not discuss with her. This was the sort of thing that she could only talk about with her sister, who might well understand her. She would have to make a call to her whenever she got the chance.
Mary could not stop her mind however much she wanted to. The last thing she wanted was to imagine taking the place of the girl, standing in the street and trying to lure the men towards her. With her title and position, the worst thing she had to worry about was a man kissing or touching her in a slightly inappropriate way. That was enough to ruin her reputation completely. How much would she be ruined if she were a street girl? She shuddered at the mere idea of it.
It was not something that Mary ever wanted to experience.
She could not imagine herself existing in those cramped houses, living among so many other people. And not just any people. Loud, dirty people with terrible smells emanating from them. Maybe she was not so unkind that she viewed the poor as only a parasite, but she did not want to be anywhere near them either.
“Daisy, did you grow up on a street such as that one?” Mary asked nervously as they pulled away from the horror and closer to Gloria’s home. Mary had been on this journey a hundred or so times before, but she had never bothered to look out before. Now, she wished she hadn’t again. Mary did not think that was a sight she could ever recover from. “Is that how you lived?”
“It was not that street.” Daisy’s lips tightened together. “But it was quite similar.”
Mary gulped and nodded slowly. Daisy knew so much more about the world than she did; she had knowledge that Mary did not even know she was missing.
“That is why I am so glad to work in your home.” Daisy’s face lit up, and a bright smile spread across her lips. “The roof over my head is so much better at your house.”
Mary had visited the staff quarters only once before when she was young and wandered off. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she explored the only part of her house that she had never seen before, although when she was caught, she acted as if she had gotten lost.
Mary did not say it to Daisy, but she did not think what she had under her roof was wonderful. It was small, very basic, incredibly boring to look at. Yes, maybe it was better than living on one of those streets, but was it fair? How had they come to live in a world where the lives of everyone were so different? One person lived in unnecessary luxury while the next could barely feed their children; one road was glamorous and lovely, the next dirty and smelly.
It seemed to Mary that something needed to change, but she did not know what. She just hoped that there was some miracle that ensured the lives of the poor ended up better before she became one herself.
“I think that we are here,” Daisy spoke out once more, causing Mary’s head to snap up to look at her. “The driver is stopping. This is Gloria’s house, is it not?”
Mary twisted her head to see the home that was more familiar to her than anything else she had seen today. This was the home of one of the most famous dressmakers in the whole of London; all the Ladies loved to see her because she made the finest things. Mary was lucky, but still she felt hollow. It did not feel right to spend so much money on an item of clothing that she did not really want, for a ball that she was not really keen to attend when there were people that had nothing.
Unfortunately, there was nothing that she could do about it now. The driver had brought her all the way, and she had to keep her appointment.
This is just to show Walter that I am trying my hardest, she tried to make herself feel much better. At least it is for a good reason.
But as she stepped down from the carriage with the help of the driver, she was not convinced at all. All of a sudden, nothing felt quite right anymore.
***
Mary felt exhausted as the carriage drove her away from Gloria’s house once more, returning her back to her own house. She had been pulled, twisted, measured, and prodded for hours on end. She had felt so many different fabrics and discussed so many colours that it left her feeling dizzy.
“You did not seem to enjoy yourself today,” Daisy commented as she cocked her head at Mary. “Do you not enjoy dress shopping? That seems like something I would think would be very enjoyable.”
Of course, that was something that Daisy had never experienced, which was just another thing for Mary to feel guilty about. Daisy only had her work uniform, as far as Mary knew. “Oh, y ... yes,” she stammered. “I guess I am just not quite myself today.”
Daisy did not push it. She could just tell that this was something her friend did not want to talk about. She watched her out of the corner of her eye instead, searching for a moment where she would look more approachable, but her expression remained closed off and sad all the way back home. Mary did not even make the effort to look out the window again; it was almost as if all she could see were her feet.
Mary barely even knew where she was anymore; a cold sensation had her gripped as her brain whirred rapidly. The choice that she had in front of her was becoming increasingly difficult with every passing second. It should have been simple; she did not love or even like Duke Edmund Smith, so she should not have to marry him, but that was not the way that the world worked.
Maybe I will end up like Charlotte after all. Maybe we are both destined to end up miserable and stuck.
What would her father think if he could see their sadness? Would that have caused him to change his mind? Maybe if he could see the terror in his eldest daughter’s eyes, he would help her to escape her marriage, even if that was unheard of. Maybe he would allow Mary the choice if that happened.
Why did you have to die, Father? she thought morosely in a way she had not done in years. All of this had dredged up the sadness and loss she felt that he was gone. It was as if the last five years had not even happened, and the funeral had only occurred the day before. I wish that you were still here, Father. I miss you a lot.
Once they pulled up outside the house, Mary felt washed out and ready for some alone time in her bedroom. She was upset that she had dragged Daisy along to the dressmakers with her when she had not spoken with her much, but she hoped that her friend would understand. All Mary needed was some time to think.
Unfortunately, that was not going to happen.
“Where have you been?” Walter snapped at her from just inside the front door. “I have been waiting for you for over thirty minutes.”
Mary resisted the urge to huff at his very unwelcome presence. This was the absolute last thing that she needed today. “I went to visit my dressmaker,” she told him coldly. “I was not aware that we had an appointment today.”
“We do not, but there are things that we must discuss, do you not think?” Walter pumped his fists by his side. He grew weary of Mary and her indecision, and it made him want to do something drastic just to punish her. “I have sent out the letter to the Duke, as discussed, but since we have not received a reply yet, I believe we need to start considering other options.”
A spark of hope filled Mary’s chest; this had to be a good sign that things were potentially looking up, did it not?
“I went to the dressmakers to get a garment made for me to attend some society functions,” Mary replied confidently. “So if His Grace does not see fit to reply, I can marry someone else. I shall still inherit the house then, shall I not?”
Walter scowled. “You have done that without discussing it with me?”
“I did not know I would have to discuss everything with you.” Mary felt stunned; this was not the reaction that she expected from him. She assumed he would be happy that she was not being difficult for him. “I apologise for stepping out of line.”
Walter shook his head as he tried his hardest to keep the string of expletives inside. “I do not see what choice we have. Like I have said to you before, your father was not specific about many details. Maybe that is something I should have pushed for when he was alive, but it is too late to worry about it now. We must just work with what we believe ourselves. I presume if Edmund does not respond to our communication, and if he does not wish to marry you, then I assume we can find another more suitable person for you.”
Mary nodded, waiting for happiness to surge through her. This was what she wanted, what she was hoping for, so why did she not feel better? Was it simply the moroseness she had been experiencing all day continuing, or was it something else?
“So let us talk; we need to plan exactly what we intend to do.” Walter returned to an ‘all business’ mode. “Now that everything has become much more complicated, we have to decide how to make this work. Do you not agree?”
“Yes,” Mary whispered. “I agree.”