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.