1. The Letter #2
At last, they arrived at the tea parlor where Mary's father and brothers were already gathered. Her sisters-in-law descended upon them and began their task of doting on and complimenting the family’s favorite child.
Her brothers fawned over their father, waiting for his approval on their latest accomplishments, approval that would not come unless they managed to forge ahead and amass a fortune in their own right. But they preferred to leech off their father’s wealth for as long as possible.
Despite all her brothers’ accomplishments combined, Mary’s parents still considered her to be the most accomplished of the four children. Her beauty, and the fact they could marry her off to whomever they wished, was prized above all.
Her father ignored his disappointing sons and kept his gaze on her. His eyes narrowed and he gave her a nod of his head, his dark hair bouncing with the movement. His darkened expression informed her that he was well aware of what Eduard had communicated in the letter.
Of course he knows, Mary thought as her stomach dropped.
Please fix this, Father. Her heart ached as she pleaded with her eyes, desperate for a private moment with him.
She was sure he would not agree to the new terms of the marriage agreement.
But his devastating answer came when he looked away and took a sip of his whiskey.
Mary’s father was her last hope of changing her future, the future that was outlined in Eduard’s letter, a future that was vastly different from what they’d planned together. The room spun as she was led to the sitting area. A delicate teacup was placed in her shaking hands.
The tea was poured, and the attention of the ladies turned to Mary's mother, as they talked about the latest fashion and some faux pas they saw earlier while out in the city. Their incessant giggles made Mary’s skin crawl.
Of all the topics they could entrance themselves with, they chose to bash other women for petty reasons.
They could talk about the opening of the Royal Academy Exhibition or the launch of the first steamboat, all more interesting than tearing down other women.
Eliza, her eldest brother Derek’s wife, sat perched with her back unusually straight and stiff.
Her pointed nose was disproportionate to her swollen face, matching her swollen belly wrapped in magenta taffeta.
“Well, soon Mary will join us as an old married lady.” She shoved another biscuit into her waiting mouth.
“Perhaps. From the sounds of it, poor Eduard is having second thoughts.” Carolina nodded her head in agreement, pitying the youngest daughter.
She was a Spaniard whose wealthy family had moved to London a few years back and married Mary’s youngest brother, Michael.
She was slender and her tan skin made the light pink dress with flower-adorned puff sleeves stand out.
The second-born son, Marcus, married a quiet, uneducated woman named Tabitha.
She sat perched across from the other wives, shoulder to shoulder with Mary.
Her eyes were wide, and she nodded quietly in agreement, afraid that if she disagreed, she would be on the receiving end of their scorn and ridicule.
Her bright red hair was tied up, and her unruly curls spilled out around her oval face.
“Such a shame. She is quite the beauty. It must be her temperament —,” Eliza continued, brushing crumbs off her growing belly.
“Ladies, it is not polite to discuss such matters so flagrantly. Eduard fully intends to marry our Mary,” Catherine scolded her son’s wives, shaking her head in disapproval at their candor. Eliza and Carolina lowered their voices and moved the conversation on to what they would wear to the wedding.
Tabitha peeked over at Mary, sympathy in her eyes.
How wretched must I be to have Tabitha of all people pity me, Mary thought as she carefully placed her half-empty teacup on the tray, picking up her book in one movement.
It took effort to hide her shaking anger. She opened her book, and buried her face in the first page. The letter dropped down and Eliza reached over, snatching it from Mary’s lap.
“What are you hiding little Mary?” Eliza scanned the letter and, to Mary’s horror, read the contents out loud.
Everyone in the parlor ceased their conversations and listened to the intimate details of the letter.
Sweat beaded on Mary’s forehead as she scanned the intrigued faces in the room all staring in her direction.
It was Eliza’s shrill voice that had them captivated. “Dearest Mary,” Eliza began reading the letter.
Dearest Mary,
I look forward to the day when I can call you my wife. That time, unfortunately, will need to be delayed. My love for you remains steadfast. The delay comes rather from a decision I made, a decision that I hope, my beloved, you will find agreeable.
I have decided to take my inheritance percentage early and go to the Americas to start fresh there. Once I am settled, I will send for you, and we shall be married.
Mary, my love for you burns the same as my desire to step out of my family’s shadow and forge my own path. I hope you can understand. I am sorry I couldn’t say goodbye to you in person, but I feared my resolve would stumble. Until we meet again, my love.
Yours Truly, Eduard
Mary stood forcefully to her feet. Fists clenched at her side she looked to her mother who quickly looked to Gregory.
Mary dared not look back at her father, she knew pleading with him to have her released from the engagement was out of the question.
The finality of his expression earlier made it clear to her that there was no changing Eduard’s mind either.
Mary has now found herself in an engagement to a man who she may never see again. Or worse, he would succeed, and she would make the perilous journey to the challenging new world, forced into a life she did not envision for herself.
“Mother, please excuse me, I need some fresh air.” Mary politely smiled, fighting back overdue tears, as she shuffled past the fluffy skirts of her sisters. She snatched the letter from her sister-in-law.
Sister-in-law? More like an enemy-in-law, she thought as she stormed out of the house.
The fresh air hit Mary’s face, a welcome change from the stale air in her home.
The two-story building had been the ideal home for her growing up and she had always envisioned finding a home similar to share with Eduard.
In the papers, she had read about how settlers in the Americas lived in wood cabins, usually with one room for the family to share.
She shivered as a light rain fell around her.
Her lady’s maid, Beth, appeared with a cloak and opened a blue umbrella. Beth was the closest thing she had to a friend. All her other friends were busy with their own lives, managing their households, and didn’t have much time for single, unmarried friends.
Mary walked in silence as the sound of gentle rain pattered on the top of her umbrella.
Puddles gathered underfoot, normally avoided, but today she welcomed the uncomfortable squish in her shoes with each step.
Beth walked close behind, with the hood of her cloak up to shield her face from the rain.
Mary glanced back at Beth. “Why not join me under the umbrella? It is certainly big enough for the both of us.” Mary extended her arm backwards, allowing Beth to come walk alongside her.
The streets were far less busy with pedestrians now that the sky had opened and unleashed the waiting rain. The few people they did pass gave judgmental looks at them. It was not common to see a highborn lady walking next to hired help.
I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. My life will still be my own, Mary thought as she continued to hold her head high despite the curious glances in their direction.
She clutched the book closer to her body. It held the letter that changed her life, and she was trying to decide what to do with it. Now her whole family knew the shame it held. She’d be forced to leave London and live in the new world.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Mary. I heard the letter from Eduard, about his leaving for America.” Beth’s small voice was nearly drowned out by the rain that surrounded them.
Mary sighed. “Yes, it appears I am to leave for America.”
The two ladies came to a stop on the top of the Westminster Bridge. They stood together in silence as they watched the rain hitting the river below.
“How are you handling it?” Beth broke the silence, her voice was soft and could barely be heard over the rain.
“Honestly, I am not sure. I care not about making as much money as our parents did. However, I was hoping we would have enough to live comfortably here in London. Be able to have the freedom I so desperately crave. Away from my family.” Mary lowered her voice when she mentioned her family.
She didn’t feel right speaking ill of them, despite how they had treated her over the years.
“I can understand that. I guess you are getting a new kind of freedom, one far away from your family. Where they can’t dictate anything you do or say.”
“Thank you, Beth.” Mary looked thoughtfully at Beth. Her words brought a new sense of hope. She was right. In America she would be far away from their influence and power. She could forge her own path.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t realized they wandered too close to the road and away from the walking path. A horse drawn carriage turned onto the bridge heading in their direction. Mary looked up just in time to see the horse heading straight towards them.
Her body froze in fear and her mind went blank as she watched her inevitable doom racing toward her.
I don’t want to die. Her heart pounded as she jumped to the side. Then she realized that Beth was focused on a puddle underfoot and hadn’t seen the horse yet.
Before she could think, she jumped back in the path, grabbed Beth and pulled her to the side. The horse clopped by, the coachman waved his fist at the women huddled together on the bridge. Mary’s breathing came in too quickly and she felt light-headed as her blood tried to pump and calm her nerves.
“Mary, are you all right?” Beth grabbed Mary by the shoulders and gave her a quick once-over. All Mary could do was nod her head.
Why would I put myself in danger to save Beth?
“Thank you for pulling me out of the way,” Beth said and smiled. “That was very brave.” Mary tried to smile back but the muscles in her face felt frozen.
“Or very stupid,” Mary retorted, “I can’t believe we came that close to getting hurt.” Or dying, she thought, I need to be more careful and avoid putting myself in any kind of danger.
Mary steadied herself up against the railing and watched the water below. Pulling out the letter, she let her tears fall freely again.
Between the events at tea and her near death experience with the horse, her emotions felt bigger than she could properly express. Her fiancé's words assured her that everything would be all right. In her heart, she hoped that would be true.
The letter danced in the wind, and in a quick moment she let go. She watched as the letter danced slowly to the waters below. With it, her heart sank, because now she faced a new unknown. Mary was determined to make it into the life she always wanted.
The breeze brushed across her face, and her attention was drawn away from her letter and to the river’s surface below. The sun danced in reflection as the water moved in the wind’s direction. A shimmer hovered, hidden carefully in the streak of bright white against the dark water.
It was close enough to the surface that it would be splashed by the rain drops.
Mary realized it wasn’t the sun’s light reflecting on the water.
Whatever the strange shimmer was, it looked like a round orb with streaks of light jutting in every direction.
She looked up into the sky to find the light’s source but found none.
That is odd, she mused, as the rain sprinkled across her upward face.
“We should return home, Miss Mary. The rain is going to wash us away any moment.” Beth gently squeezed Mary’s arm and gave a reassuring smile. Mary tried to return it, but the movement felt rigid and forced.
The ladies turned back towards home, and Mary stole one more glance at the strange blue shimmer that continued to hover on the water. She couldn’t help but feel like the shimmer was returning the same watchful gaze.