The Lady Who Stayed

IV. The Trap

Mary walked around the ballroom, ignoring the disparaging glances, and focused her eyes on the one exit that would lead her to the library.

A breath of relief escaped her when she finally emerged into an empty corridor lined with doors. Her heart pounding against her chest, she stopped when she saw a man enter the library.

Lord Preston. She knew him. Cressida once caused quite a small stir when she commented on the man's oily face. Since then, that had always been his reputation.

But Mary knew Lord Preston more. She knew his secrets.

He was a member of the League of Founders, a group of men trained to protect the Town from threats. But unlike the Town Guards, whose purpose was to safeguard everyone and enforce the law, Leaguers worked in secret, their identities most often unknown.

For a moment she wondered if he was here on a mission, and if he was, he may stay long inside the library. Deciding to return later, Mary turned and then froze in her spot. Three familiar figures blocked her path back into the ballroom.

Mary groaned inwardly. Of all people, she had to deal with Belinda and the Prewitt twins.

"You should still be in mourning, Mary," Belinda said with a smile. "You are giving your father's memory such great insult by enjoying this ball."

"Why are you here, Mary?" asked Poppy Prewitt, standing beside Belinda.

Not fighting back seemed to have grown into a habit for Mary where Belinda and her friends were concerned.

"Being frail in the eyes of many does not reduce the power you hold. It simply hides it, my dear, so it can grow." Her father's words echoed in her mind as she watched Belinda step closer, carrying her haughty air.

Mary instinctively stepped back, and she hated herself for it.

She was a hypocrite. She had made her father believe she was strong and that her meekness was merely a façade. But she never truly learned how to act because she was as what these people saw her. Or perhaps the act simply blended with the confidence her father tried to mold into her. Or it could just be that she was facing Belinda, the one person who could effectively make Mary feel she was trespassing into a world she was not a part of.

Her hands turned icy, and she had the sudden urge to run away or shrink, but the weight of the secret she hid in her reticule reminded her of why she could not.

The three ladies were not as horrible as what they reminded Mary of, which was the school they all attended together. It was in Madam Pearson's School for Young Ladies that she learned evil rubbed on to children. There, despite the absence of their caregivers, Mary was known as the daughter of the man who robbed their fathers of their townsends, and the daughter of the woman rumored to be the lover of many members in the clubs.

And even until now, even if they never spoke of those things, the mere presence of Belinda and the Prewitts reminded Mary of those horrible years her father had very little knowledge about because she never told him. Because she led him to believe she was strong.

"You are distracting people, Mary." Belinda looked at her with a frown which could easily be concern or disapproval—or both. She could never truly tell with the red-haired beauty standing before her. Belinda, for Mary, was always a confusing enigma.

"Perhaps you should leave," said Posy Prewitt, feigning a kind smile.

Mary cleared her throat. "If you would step aside, I may just leave."

Belinda smiled and looked at her friends. "We were just going to the garden, Mary. Would you like to join us?"

"We could give you a trip back to your carriage along the way," added Poppy.