A Lady's Fate

Chapter Four - Mary

It was madness; absolute madness. The entire thing was nothing but a complete and utter fiasco.

What on earth had possessed her? What in heaven's name had led her to believe she could succeed in pulling this off? That she could somehow reside amongst these – these pampered, preened people, as if she too belonged in their world?

Yes, it was madness – a completely ridiculous plan, thought up in the heat of the most desperate of moments. It had seemed a significantly flawed plan, even then, but at the time it was the best they had, and so she and Margaret had gone with it. Margaret had trusted her – Margaret had believed that Mary could do this. And so, Mary was determined to do her duty diligently; to protect Margaret, whatever it took.

Yet already it seemed Mary had severely underestimated the enormity of her task. What had at first seemed a bit of an adventure had rapidly escalated into an insurmountable challenge; within the space of a week at Alverton Hall, Mary had almost been found out several times already. Clearly her charade was not as plausible as she would have liked to believe; either that, or Lady Helena and her maid were far more astute than Mary had expected.

Lady Helena did indeed appear to have a sort of prying nature, which made Mary intensely uncomfortable. From the moment Mary arrived at Alverton Hall, it had been plain to see that Lady Helena was well and truly the mistress of this household. In her ultimate quest for order and perfection, it seemed she had mastered the art of appearing in about three different places at once – meaning Mary could not let her guard down at any point.

Unfortunately, the more Mary had concentrated on performing her part, the more wound-up she had become – leading her clumsy, blundering nature to come out, which in turn made her appear more unladylike, and therefore more suspicious. Lady Helena was certainly doubting her by now – how could she not be, after Mary had single-handedly managed to pour most of a pot of steaming tea into Lady Helena's lap during a visit from her beau?

The look on that man's face! Lord Something-or-other – Mary had forgotten his name. What she would never forget, however, was the glowering look he had given her, after his beloved Lady Helena had snapped at the pair of them and stormed out of the room. Had she been a man, Mary felt certain the baron would have taken a swing at her there and then. Pity, actually, that he hadn't – a dandy like him likely lacked the combat skills to match his giant ego, and Mary would have relished the opportunity to put him in his place. It would have been far more entertaining than sitting around sipping tea and listening to Lady Helena playing endless sonatas on the pianoforte, which seemed to be what was expected of her most of the time.

"Oh Margaret, I do so wish you were here," murmured Mary softly.

Alone in her cavernous bedchamber, Mary sat curled-up on her enormous four-poster bed, thumbing fondly through the sheaf of paper baring her dear friend's elegant, looping swirls. Upon receiving the letter at the breakfast table, it had taken every ounce of self-control not to run upstairs and devour Margaret's words instantly; she must have read them about three times by now.

The most important thing was that Margaret was safe – or as safe as she could be, given the circumstances. It appeared she had written her letter almost immediately after arriving in London, having found a room to rent in an area known as Spitalfields. It was an area renowned for the silk industry, Margaret had written, and it appeared she intended to secure work at one of the nearby weavers.

But Mary knew very well that Margaret would soon not be able to work; yet soon she would also be in greater need of money...

Mary adored Margaret more than anyone else in the world, but she could not forgive Margaret for her noble stupidity at such a crucial time. Margaret recklessly believed that she could manage this alone; that she would not require any financial support. She was afraid of having to rely on anyone, that was the problem – she failed to see that, given her current circumstances, she was hardly likely to be given a choice.