“We all have to learn somehow,” Daisy answered. “Without mistakes, none of us know what the right thing for us is. No one blames you.”
“I will help you,” Mary interjected, needing to reassure her friend. “I will not have you out on the streets. I do not know how yet, but please understand that I am working on it. I will ensure that you keep your job here, or I will make sure that you have money ... I do not know, but please know that I have not forgotten you.”
Daisy nodded. She was not sure that Lady Roberts could do what she was suggesting since she was about to have her own problems to worry about, but she did not want to put her friend down. “It is nice enough that you care enough to try,” she said. “I do not know that any other Lady would act in the same way.”
Mary parted her lips, ready to argue, but then she thought about the way that Charlotte reacted when she heard about her friendship with Daisy. Maybe she was the one that was strange, but if being unusual meant that she could help, then she really did not mind. Her friendship with Daisy had been a lifesaver anyway; she would not change it for the world.
“How have things been since I left?” Mary asked. “I am sorry, I guess I have been so wrapped up in my own life that I forgot things would not stop still just because I left.”
“Things have been quiet,” Daisy admitted. “There is still work to do, but it is not the same without anyone here to serve. Do you think you might come back?” She knew she was being hopeful; she knew that the house was up for sale, but she missed Mary even more than she thought she would.
“I do not think so,” Mary admitted. “I think ...” She glanced behind her to check that her sister was not listening. She did not want Charlotte to think that she was speaking about her behind her back. “I think Charlotte needs me at the moment. It does not seem that things are good for her right now.”
Daisy nodded, she did not know what to say about that, but she could see that Mary was right. Charlotte did seem like someone who needed looking after. “She is lucky to have you.”
Mary nodded slowly, wishing that were true. If she had things her way, Charlotte would be lucky to have her, but she did not. “Thank you, Daisy. That is very kind of you to say.”
“Well, we shall miss you. I will miss you, of course, but I have already been missing you. You have always been a good friend to me.”
Unexpectedly, tears welled up in Mary’s eyes. She did not expect to get so emotional, but actually being at her family home and knowing that it would soon be gone, along with her friendship with Daisy destroyed her. As the wetness splashed onto her cheeks, Daisy wrapped her arms around her friend, and they embraced.
“I am sorry,” Mary sobbed. “I feel like I have let you down. I feel like I am letting everyone down.”
Daisy pulled back, and she stared into Mary’s eyes. “You have not let anyone down. If anything, you are doing yourself proud, and the rest of us. Yes, things will change, but life is all about change. It is fine. You will do well and so will the rest of us. We will all find our place in the world.”
“I hope you are right.” Mary pulled back as she finally heard her sister coming down the stairs. “I truly do.”
“Is there anything that you need to do?” Charlotte asked, her voice thick with emotion. “Because I am finished here. I am ready to go whenever you are.”
“I will not be long,” Mary promised. “I will just go up to my room, then I will be ready too. I promise. Can you give me a few moments?”
“Yes,” Charlotte whispered with a sniff and a nod. “I can.”
Daisy took Charlotte to go and get a drink to help her to calm down, leaving Mary with some much-needed time to say goodbye to her house. It was going to be a lot more challenging than she first believed it would be ...
Chapter 20
Charlotte glanced around at the people around her with a sinking sensation in her heart. She had never much liked the opera, not because of the art, but because of the people who attended it. They never came out to appreciate the music or the theatre; it was only to be seen in polite society, so people would not forget that they existed. They attended in their finest clothes, with their hair all styled to perfection, make-up covering every inch of their face, just so that other people would see them and know that they were wealthy.
It is all so pointless, she thought sadly. So, so pointless.
Charlotte did not have many clear memories of her mother because she was fairly young when she passed away, but she did have one. Her mother was dressed up in the most gorgeous, woven silk dress with beautiful intricate embroidery. It clung tightly to her hips and whooshed out to the floor like a waterfall, making Charlotte imagine that she was a princess. She could clearly recall trying to touch her hair because it was piled high on her mother’s head in a complicated looking style, decorated with sparkly jewels that Charlotte desperately wanted to touch.
“You cannot touch that.” Her mother had giggled gaily at her. “I need to look nice. I am going to the opera.”
Ever since then, Charlotte had built up an image in her mind of the opera being this wonderful place where amazing things happened. Her mother and father had both attended looking superb, and they were so pleased to go. They had giddiness to them as they left their home for the evening, leaving a wet nurse with Charlotte. She had grown up with a secret desire to go; there was always a part of her that desperately wanted to attend, so when Lord Jones suggested that they go one night, she leapt at the opportunity.
“Oh yes, please, that sounds utterly wonderful.”
She thought it would be a chance to enjoy something that her mother once had, that it would give her a bond that she had not yet experienced, but she was very, very wrong.
If she had realised that it would just be another night of spending time with her husband’s boring friends who thought it amusing to poke fun at her, she would not have bothered. She often liked to make excuses for not coming now, but tonight, she been unable to get out of it. Lord Jones was insistent. It was as if he suspected that something was up with her.
“What is wrong with you?” Lady Elsie Ward, an older lady with a pinched face, demanded. “Why are you not drinking your wine?”
Because I have already been forced to crush my baby bump into a corset just to come out tonight, Charlotte thought angrily. I do not wish to drink as well.
She had also spent a lot of her pregnancy feeling nauseous. It was as if she was unsteady on her feet, maybe like she was on a ship or something, and it was making her ill. Not quite ill enough to vomit, but almost at that stage.
“I do not feel like it,” she replied quietly. Around this group of people, she could not help becoming a much meeker version of herself.