Star Crossed

Part 3

Dinner that evening was served at 6 o'clock sharp, but Margaret and Mary were late. They had been so engaged in conversation they had not realised the time, and came in with wind-brushed hair and smelling of roses. Everyone turned to look at them, and Lord Bentley said, "Ah, there you are, girls. Come in and sit down."

Girls. Margaret and Mary gave each other a look, noticing the irony, and took their places. Margaret was beside her brother, and Mary was beside her father.

A conversation between Lord Bentley and Mr Adams resumed, and Mary, feeling quite odd, began to eat her soup. Dinner rolls, fresh from the oven, lay in a bowl in front of her, but she wanted to remain as inconspicuous as she could for that moment.

She lifted her spoon to her mouth and drank.

"Mary?"

She looked up, trying to find the source of the voice. Ephraim, diagonally across from her, was looking at her in mild awe.

"I can't believe it's you," he said.

"Hello, Ephraim," she said uneasily. "I hope you are well."

"I truly cannot fathom it. I expected you to be a little girl, still. But you're a woman."

The conversation died down between the men and all attention seemed to be on Mary. She blushed and looked closely at her soup.

"Isn't she beautiful, Ephraim?" Lord Bentley said.

Mary did not look up to see Ephraim's reaction. She only heard his reply, yes.

When she finally looked back up, Margaret was grinning.

What? Mary asked her with her eyes.

You're a woman, Margaret mimicked with her eyes.

Mary shook her head and went back to her soup, trying not to stare at Ephraim's red uniform and sparkly new medal. He was not at all how she remembered him. As a boy he had not been particularly good looking, but he made a very handsome twenty-four-year-old.

"So, Frank," Ephraim said. "I understand you interested in going into law?"

"Yes," came the reply. "Next year I plan to go to university."

"Really? Cambridge or Oxford?"

"Cambridge."

"How delightful. I'm sure it will suit you very well."

"Thank you, sir. I did consider politics as a career, but . . ."

"Yes?"

"Well, I don't think it's for me, really."

"No, quite. I have absolutely no interested in going into politics either." Mary had to look up at him because he said this with so much determination. He was looking particularly toward Lord Bentley as he spoke. "I have discovered, as I always suspected, that the military suits me perfectly fine. I shall never regret my decision."

Margaret seemed pleased with what her brother was saying, but simply gave her father an odd little smile and went back to her soup.

"And I don't think you will ever regret your decision, my dear Frank," Ephraim went on. "So long as it is you who decides it."

Frank was looking at Ephraim like he was the sunrise. "I could not agree more, Colonel Bentley."

Ephraim, satisfied, smiled and returned to his soup.

After dessert, they withdrew to the drawing room for cards. Mary had not often visited that room, but now it was lit with candles and the fire was blazing. Lady Bentley immediately sat at the table and decided they would play whist, and Margaret settled down with a book.