Page 40 of Loving a Noble Gentleman
Chapter 19
“I cannot believe it,” Mary gasped in shock. Her free hand, the one that was not gripped onto the piece of paper in front of her, clapped against her mouth as she tried to process what was in front of her. “This is ... it is so unexpected.”
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 Ihavebecome 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. Shedidthink 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.”
“Thingsaremoving,” 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.”
