A Loveless Marriage

Chapter 18: Mary

  "I'm sorry that I haven't visited you in a while," I said.  "Have you been well?"

Again, there was no response.  The dark cloud was over her, my presence was not wanted or unwelcome, it was simply not important.  I wished for that numbness as my face flooded red, this time with anger as much of shame.  I knew I should not resent her, I should not fear her but I did.   The silent woman in front of me was my dark secret, a secret so terrible I had run from it for half my life.  Her malady, her madness had dominated my life, with every penny my father had left going on her confinement.  We must pay for their discretion, my father had said as he presented himself as a bereaved widower to the outside world, it costs to have peace of mind.

But I did not have peace.  I had suffered the indignity of being Agatha Chorley's companion and before that, I had lost the only love that gave me true comfort.

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It must have been less than a week after Harriet's eighteenth birthday that I realised how far my mother's shadow cast.  It was a miserable day, the rain had been constant and I was trapped indoors with Harriet and one of her moods.  Every word I uttered caused her to snap and I grew impatient with her constant sniping.  I stood to leave.

    "Sit back down," she commanded.  "I don't know where you think you are going."

I continued to walk to the door.

  "Be a good obedient girl," she said with a cruel sneer.  "You'll need to be more obsequious when you are a paid companion."

   "I'm not going to be a paid companion or a governess," I protested vehemently.

   "Well you won't be living off my parents forever," she said.

   "Harriet, you are being very unkind today and I don't like it one bit."

  "Oh, I am unkind?  You are the cuckoo in the nest, you are the viper."

Despite all her flaws, Harriet was the closest thing I had to a sister and I loved her dearly.  The words cut me more than I cared to show, but my cheeks, traitors that they were, burned deeply and I saw her satisfaction at my blushes.  I sat down in the armchair opposite her.

   "What makes me a viper?"  I said, filled with dread.

   "Daniel Mourdant," she said watching my face intently.  "He told me at my ball that he was in love with you.  The very ball where he was supposed to propose."

  "Harriet, I..." 

  "He laughed at me, Mary.  He laughed when I told him if the ballroom was too crowded, he could call on me the day after.  He said it said it was a ridiculous notion that he would ever want to speak to me in private."

  "Harriet, I am sorry but it was foolish to think he would marry you just because your father and his father made a deal."

   "It was a gentleman's agreement to combine the estates, in order  to satisfy the debts to my father."

   "Gambling debts!" I protested.  " Love cannot be won in a game of cards."

  "But an estate can be and if we do not marry, the Mourdant's will have to pay their debts.  Which they cannot do."

   "And you would marry a man who doesn't love you?  Who is at best indifferent to you?"

   "A marriage doesn't need love on both sides, not to begin with," she said cooly.  "But it does need to be free from distractions."