Evermore

v.

November 2nd, 1781 ;

Mary held in an exasperated sigh as she perched herself on the sofa, listening to her mother and her lady friends talk. "Elizabeth Williams told me that the postman's wife told her that the Earl sent Mary a letter?" Margaret asked her mother, the excited tone in her voice bordered on the maddening. It had to be the twentieth time someone had asked, "Does it have to do with that horrible maid you continue to employ?"

"Yes," Sophia confirmed. "Such an honorable man. I was ready to dismiss the nitwit but Mary wrote to him and he was forgiving of her language."

"And he's so handsome!" Clarice exclaimed with a giggle as the tea saucer in her hand bounced and threatened to drop the scone that balanced precariously on the edge. "I am attempting to secure an invitation to the Christmas ball that is being hosted as Scarbourgh House. We have our eyes set on a profitable match, Samantha is smitten with our Earl."

The other women let out a few gasps and several questioning utterances, except for Mary. Mary could only hold her tongue as the middle age woman boasted on her daughter, who was only a year or two older than herself. "We are! Henry's second cousin on his mother's side is friendly with the Earl's youngest brother. He thinks he can secure an invitation for our household and Samantha is over the moon with joy. We are already selecting bolts of fabric for her dress."

"Speaking of dresses," Harriet began, interrupting the self-important woman's boasting to look at Mary and ask, "Have you already purchased your dress?"

Mary nodded, "I just had my first fitting."

"She looked so lovely," her mother bragged proudly. "We still have so much planning to do; the invitations for the engagement party shall be going to post next week."

"Harold is a good match for you," Clarice told Mary with certainty as she placed her scone onto the tray and picked up her tea, sipping it before adding. "He handles some of George's small business matters and seems a very competent man. Where will the two of you be residing once you are wed?"

Mary frowned. She had not asked her husband to be their living arrangements once their marriage was complete. It had never crossed Mary's mind. She hoped that they would not be staying at his family's home. While just as nice as her own, it would allot them no privacy as his mother would no doubt be bustling about. "I... do not know," Mary answered slowly, measuring every syllable carefully, knowing her answer would be judged by all the women.

"Harold is in the process of buying his own home," Mary's mother spoke up, "Elizabeth was over just the other day boasting about the lovely gem he found just on the other side of town. Its lovely from what she tells me and large. Perfect for many grandchildren!"

Mary could have fainted then are there, in front of her mother and all the women who she called friends. She was terrified of marriage as it was and the thought of children had her head swimming; as if she was trying to pull herself out of a deep bog. "Mother, please," she pleaded quietly. "We are not even wed yet; we should not even be thinking of... babies."

"Hush," Sofia clucked, "Don't be shy, little miss. You sit there all prim and quiet, but us women know how it was to be a bride to be. You already have the names of those wee ones picked out."

Mary held her tongue and wanted only to yell out in frustration that none of it was what she wanted. She did not even want to think of her wedding night with a man such as Harold; he was nice enough, kind enough. If you could call an iceberg nice and kind.

She was relieved when the older women moved from the subject of her pending marriage as quickly as they broached it, the relief was a great weight off her shoulder as she was able to return to her thoughts and remain inattentive.