Loving a Noble Gentleman

by Abigail Agar

  She reread the words again and again, trying to find something that she had not spotted before, something that would tell her that she had gotten it all wrong, but there did not seem to be anything. It appeared that what she was reading was the full truth.

  “What is it?” Charlotte was trying to contain herself, but her sister’s anxiety had her all riled up. She felt like she was on edge, and it was a scary place to be. “What is the letter about.”

  “It is from Walter,” she declared distractedly. “He is following through with my plan. The house is up for sale.”

  “Our family home?”

  Charlotte’s sad tone brought Mary back down to earth with a thump. She had grown so excited by the idea of moving forward that she forgot she was saying a big goodbye to her past. Her childhood home, the last place the Roberts had all been together as a family; it would all belong to someone else now. So would the staff.

  “Yes,” Mary gasped as her gut hurt like she had been punched hard. “And I forgot to secure jobs for the staff?”

  “Huh?” That was not the direction that Charlotte expected the conversation to go in. “The staff?”

  Mary glanced up at her sister to see the question in her eyes. “Yes, the staff. One of the maids there is my friend. Her name is Daisy.”

  “You are friends with one of the maids? I do not remember you ever being friends with the staff.” This was all so strange. How did she not know her sister at all?

  “No, that sort of came about because of you, actually.” Mary smiled a little, remembering how it had happened. “When I first met the Duke, he made me feel that I was boring, so to spice myself up a bit, I copied what you said to me about being interested in the rights of the working class … although since then I have become very interested in the same things as you.” She shook her head, realising that she was getting off track. “Anyway, that hardly matters. Daisy heard me, and we started talking since then. We have become quite close. She is almost a friend to me. In my excitement about saving you, I did not think about how it would affect her. She might end up with no job …”

  “Can you not ask Mr Thompson to pick a buyer who wishes there to be staff within the home already?”

  “I can,” Mary replied thoughtfully. “Although I am not sure he will agree.”

  “Do you know what will happen with the rest of the money from the house sale? Could you use that?”

  Mary did not know, but she was determined that she would work it out. She had come this far; she could do the rest. She had overcome challenges she did not think she would be able to; she had pushed herself in ways that she did not know possible. Mary was starting to believe that just maybe she could do anything.

  “I will sort it,” she confirmed to Charlotte. “You do not need to worry. In fact, I believe that the first thing I shall do is go back to the house. I will speak to everyone face to face and let them know what is happening and why.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Charlotte could not understand it. But then she had never been close to the staff ever in her life. She had been raised in a way to assume they were part of the furniture, and that was how she had always seen them. Maybe it was not right, but it had become so ingrained in her that she did not notice. She did think about the rights of the working class, but she had not considered the people in her home to need rights. Maybe she always thought that they had it better. “I do not wish to be rude, but Mr Thompson will sort it.”

  “No, they must hear it from me,” Mary insisted. She knew this was the only way. She could not let Daisy know that she had let them down from someone else. She wanted her friend to know that she had not forgotten about her and that she would do whatever she could to help her. “Do you want to come? I know you have not been back to the house since Father passed away, but maybe this will be good for you. You can get some closure and also see if there is anything you have left behind.”

  Charlotte did not know if this was a good idea or not, but at the same time, she did not want to remain in the house either. Lord Jones was in a dark mood, and he had been for the last few days. The deep purple finger bruises on her arms were a stark reminder of that. She did not know what had brought it on, but it made her even less inclined to tell him about the baby that was growing in her stomach every single day. It was growing increasingly hard for her to hide her bump, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it. Her husband already thought that she was stupid; she could just act like she did not know.

  He was always making jokes to his friends about how younger wives had no brains; this could just be another one in his long list of things spoken to humiliate her. She always clenched her lips together and acted like she was taking the joke for what it was, but inside, she seethed. She wanted to scream that if he did not want a younger wife, he should not have married her … but she did not.

  “Yes, I shall come,” she answered quietly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  Mary noticed that Charlotte was being pensive, but she assumed it was more about the house than anything else. Ever since the loud argument that she overheard, which the girls still had not discussed and probably never would, she had not heard a thing. She did not realise that Charlotte had orchestrated it that way on purpose.

  “This is a good thing,” she tried her best to reassure her sister. “I know it does not feel this way right now, but it is. I will escape my marriage to a man who is horrible, and you can … if you want to … get away.”

  Charlotte sucked in a deep breath, unable to hide her shock at being asked such a direct question about the one topic she was trying her best to avoid … even in her mind. “I do not know,” she whispered as if she was afraid that the girls would be overheard even though there was very little chance of that. “I have not thought much about it; I do not want to worry myself until things move.”

  “Things are moving,” Mary insisted. “The house is up for sale now. Soon it will sell. Someone has to want to buy it. By that time, you need to know what it is that you want to do.”

  Charlotte knew all of this; she had a very rational mind, but at the moment with her pregnancy hormones circling her and the huge life choice in front of her, she did not know what to think. Sometimes she did not think that Mary knew how much harder this was for her. She had so much more to give up.

  Do you think he will just let me leave? Do you think he really will allow me to raise my baby with you in the countryside somewhere?

  But of course, she did not say that aloud. She did not want Mary to be brought down with her negative attitude.

  “Yes, I understand that. Let us just go for now. I would like to deal with this one step at a time.”

  Mary smiled. “Right, that sounds good. Let us get going. The sooner we do this, the better.”

  Even with Charlotte so clearly upset, Mary could not contain her excitement. Yes, losing the house was never what she wanted, but it was a side effect of what she really needed to happen, so she would have to take it.

  ***

  Daisy’s heart leapt into her mouth when she opened the front door to the house and saw Lady Roberts standing there in front of her. Not just Mary but Charlotte too. She had not seen the older sister for many years, so this truly was a lovely surprise.

  “Oh my goodness,” she gasped while clutching her hand to her chest. “What are you doing here? I was not expecting you. Either of you.”

  “I am afraid that I do not come with good news,” Mary told her gravely right away. “Can I please come in to speak with you?”

  “You do not need to ask. This is your home.” Daisy stepped to one side and let the girls in. She watched Charlotte race up the stairs to her old bedroom without saying much to anyone. “Is she alright?” she asked Mary.

  “She is fine,” Mary tried to reassure Daisy. “She just wants to see the house.”

  “Right.” Daisy did not need to press further to understand what was happening. She had been expecting this for a while now. Ever since Mary left the home to
go and stay with her sister she had known that the wedding was not going to happen. “I see. So the house is going up for sale?”

  “It is,” Mary nodded sadly. “I am sorry about that; I just cannot marry a man that would ruin someone else.”

  “I know.” Daisy rubbed her arm reassuringly. “I understand that; I do not want you to think that I blame you. The Duke was never good enough for you.”

  “I sensed it right away, did I not?” She smiled as she recalled how much she hated his arrogance when she first met him. “I told you that he was not the one for me. I knew it then, but I allowed myself to get convinced otherwise.” She shook her head in a bemused fashion. “I should have simply trusted my initial instincts.”

  “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.

  “Why not?” Lady Ward sneered. “Are you pregnant?”

  “That would certainly explain why she is looking much rounder these days,” Lord Ward joined in with a much too loud laugh. “Think of it, Old Lord Jones thought he was getting a young, beautiful wife, and now she is becoming something else. That will teach him.”

  Maybe she was supposed to take such comments in jest, but it made Charlotte so angry. How dare these people take it upon themselves to say such things to her? These were upper-class people, polite society, supposedly. Maybe Mary had it right, maybe befriending
the working class was so much better. She had always thought them uncouth and a little savage, but none of them had ever spoken to her in such a way.

  “Excuse me,” she said coldly while pushing her chair back. “I think I need to get some fresh air.”

  As she stalked off, a part of her thought that her husband might follow her, but unfortunately – or fortunately, she was not quite sure – he did not. He remained with his horrible friends, probably saying even more terrible things about her now that she was gone.

  Tears pricked her eyes, and she felt sorrier for herself than she had ever done before. How was she supposed to carry on with this life when she was so unhappy? Why could she not be brave like Mary had become and plan to leave? Her sister was right. The house would sell soon enough, and she would have to make a decision.

  As she glanced down at her dress, she saw a gown that was almost as fine as the one she saw on her mother that day, and she presumed that to an untrained eye maybe she would look like a princess too. Certainly to a child. She was just like her mother; she even looked a lot like her too, but she did not share her joy for life.

  Why did she have to die when she had so much to live for? Charlotte held onto her belly, forgetting that she needed to keep it a secret. And why am I at risk of death when I might finally have something to live for myself?

  The only thing she cared about at the moment was her baby. Her sister too, but her baby more so. The fear that she would not survive childbirth stuck with her. She could not seem to shake it off however hard she tried. She had continual night terrors about it, imagining herself lying in a pool of blood, unable to move as her baby screamed around her. It haunted her that she might lose out and never get to know the child that lay within her, the baby that she felt like she already knew. It did not matter that half of the child belonged to her husband; in her mind, he or she was only hers.

  “So it is true?” A stern voice shook her from her thoughts and caused her to spin on her heels. “You are having a baby?”