There was a still silence as Fred remained frozen above me. Tears welled up in my eyes, I regretted telling him the truth as soon as the words had tripped off my tongue. I should have known that my secrets were better locked deep down, to remain hidden and denied. Every second of silence was tortured, each tick of the clock beat deep into my heart. Fred frowned slightly, I wondered if the disgust and anger were building up inside him ready to spill over me in cold fury.
"You're not a virgin?" he asked, the frown deepening on his strong forehead.
"No," I mumbled, the back of my throat swelling.
It made me queasy to think about it, the shame I had carried around for years and now I was confessing it out loud it seemed even more terrible. I knew Fred would start hating me, he would think I was a liar and a hypocrite and he would be right. I braced myself for his words, knowing that they would cut me deeper than a knife. He exhaled deeply.
"Well, I am not a virgin either," he said, an unexpected grin forming.
I looked at him, dumbfounded. The smile widened and he stroked a stray strand of hair away from my face.
"I can indulge in a hypocritical tantrum later," he said. "But I can't argue with you now, not when you are looking so beautiful."
He kissed me before I could gasp. It was a deep, strong kiss that pulled my mind from our words. If only I could stay in his embrace forever, if only this could be real. The spell did not last long, my fears started to creep in. I wondered how he could not be disgusted with me. I feared that he really was as jaded and debauched as I had first thought him or worse still that I meant so little to him. Fred stopped kissing me and looked down at me.
"Mary?" he said. "Are you still with me?"
There was an edge of frustration in his voice, my stomach twisted as I realised this was all he wanted from me. I couldn't fathom why this disappointed me so much, why I wanted him to care. Maybe I needed his anger to reflect the disgust I felt for myself, maybe I needed him to acknowledge that the only reason I had agreed to marry a scoundrel man like him wasthat I was already ruined. Whatever it was, I wanted more than forgiveness for the sake of his carnal pleasure.
"Are you disappointed with me for my lack of jealousy?" he nuzzled into my neck. "Do you want me to abuse you for being a fallen woman?"
I made no reply, hot tears burning in my eyes. In truth, I didn't know what I wanted.
"We all make mistakes, Mary," he said, softly kissing my cheeks. "Perhaps if you'd been more forgiving of my past, you would understand how I could forgive yours."
"There is a difference," I said. "I am ruined by my past, but you ruined others with yours."
Fred sat up, his face tense as he looked down on me. I wondered if I had pushed my luck. I should have kept quiet whilst he was willing to overlook my past sins, virginity was the one thing that all men prized in their wives and it was the one thing I did not bring to the marriage.
"Is that what you think, Mary?" he said, his voice hoarse and dangerous. "That I am a monster that has corrupted innocent little flowers like yourself?"
There was a cruel mockery on his face, every angle was dark and sharp. I made no reply. He rolled his eyes and sighed with impatience.
"Those women were only too eager to have me in their bed," he said, a slight sneer on his lip. "As willing as you were."
The heat of my blush burned on my cheeks, I glanced down and became painfully aware of my nakedness. I sat up and pulled the sheets over my body in shame. Fred gave a hollow laugh as he moved from the bed to gather up his clothes.
"The moment has passed, I see," he said.
I held my breathe as he dressed, fighting to keep myself from crying before he left the room. He said nothing as the door slammed behind him. Only then did I allow myself the luxury of tears. I was not sure what I was crying for; the shame, the frustration, the disappointment in myself. The fear that I was letting him close to me. Balled up on the bed, naked and alone, I wept until my tears burned my eyes.
It took me a full hour to recover, to bathe my red eyes and cool my skin with cold cream. Only then did I call my maid, standing composed as Miss Banks dressed me in Irish lace and satin. Nobody would see my pain from the outside, not my guests and certainly not Frederick Wilkes. I had shown him too much of myself already. When I descended the stairs, I was as cool as a cucumber.
William Chorley was the first guest to arrive, I saw his familiar face with relief and joy. He remained unaltered, as affable and kind as could be. His gratitude for the invitation could not disguise that he was the only friend that I invited, for indeed he was my only friend I could possibly invite. A companion's job is not to make friends, it is merely to provide company to one's employer and working for Agatha Chorley had given me little chance to grow a friendship. For all my inner turmoil, I felt a sunshine burst of happiness as I receive him in the Drawing Room. He was diffident and slightly awkward as I welcomed him with an unguarded warmth, as I saw his blushes I wondered if he was still infatuated with me.
"It is so wonderful to see you again, Mary," he said. "Your letters from Paris were charming, but nothing compared to your company."
The red in his cheeks darkened, William was not used to being so bold with his words. His eyes fell on the ring on my left hand and he bit his lip.
"And are you well, William?"
"Yes, I have been in fine health this season," he said, puffing out his cheeks. "I didn't fall off my horse once."
"And Miss Agatha? How is she?" I asked with a twinge of guilt.
A stubborn look came over his face, an expression I had seen very rarely before in William's face but often in his aunt's.
"She is well, I believe," he said stiffly.
"You believe?"
"I have not seen her since you married."
The weight of guilt grew heavier in my heart, for now I was out of Miss Agatha's shadow I could pity her for her loneliness.
"Oh William," I said.
The stubbornness in his face turned to wretchedness.
"Don't Mary!" he sighed. "I found I could not face my aunt without being consumed by my anger. If she hadn't treated you in that way, you wouldn't be married to that dreadful man!"
"Fred isn't dreadful," I said calmly. "Just his reputation is,"
There was a cough behind me, Fred made his presence loudly known as he joined us. From the dark look on his face, I could tell that he had overheard the last part of our conversation. Eyeing William with cold dislike, he sat down close to me on the sofa in a proprietorial way. Without speaking, he seemed to taunt William that I was his and I could see William bristle with anger.
"Mr Chorley," he said with a velvet smoothness. "What a surprise to see you here so early."
"There is no shame in being punctual," William said defensively.
"Of course, not Walter," Fred said with a smirk.
"My name is William, as you well know," William said, his fists clenched in anger. "You haven't changed one bit, Wilkes."
"I don't need to change. Mary knew what I was when she married me," Fred said, the calm in his voice a cover for the dark anger in his eyes.
They were like two angry dogs, circling each other and growling. My stomach twisted with anxiety, I sat silently praying for the two of them to back down amicably. My nerves were already brittle from the strain of hosting my first house party and my foolish confession to Fred.
"She only married you because she was desperate," William exclaimed.
All pretence of nicety was gone. My hands clasped tight together, I wanted to speak but could not think of the words to calm the situation.
"You think she would have married you for any other reason?" Fred said with disdain.
"I cannot bear this," I said standing up.
They both looked at me with astonishment, as if they had somehow forgotten I was there witnessing their childish squabble.
"Mary, darling," Fred started to speak but was silenced by the anger in my face.
"I'm so sorry, Mary," William said. "I just want to protect you."
"Why do you think she needs protecting from me? Fred said hotly.
"I know what you are like, the whole world does."
"I'm Mary's husband, I am the one who protects her."
They had forgotten me once more and started to square up against one another.
"You are both impossible!" I said. "Fred, William is a dear friend of mine and you must accept that and William, Fred is my husband and I do not regret it."
They had no time to reply before I stormed from the room, breaking into the sanctuary of the library. Once alone, I let out a scream of frustration and breathed deeply. The clatter of metal against the hearth was the first indication that the room was not as empty as I thought and I looked to see a very surprised looking parlour maid. I search my mind, trying to remember this one's name. She stood as still as a statue, unsure of whether she should acknowledge my presence or wait until I spoke. The maid's name was either Bessie or Sarah, I thought desperately, as though forgetting her name would be more embarrassing than my scream. We made eye contact, she must have been the same age as me and then I realised what I needed more than anything was to speak to someone.
"Why are men such fools?" I asked.
A nervous smile twitched on her lips. I felt a little relief as the words fell.
"I've just left my husband and a friend of mine, squabbling like schoolboys," I said, hesitantly taking her into my confidence.
"I take it you don't have brother, Ma'am?" she said timidly.
I shook my head and gave a false smile to hide the hollowness inside.
"I'm an only child."
"I have five brothers, even now they are grown men, they still find something to butt heads over," she said with a smile. "Usually over a pretty girl."
I could feel a blush creep over my face and then I giggled. My laugh brought a deeper smile to the maid's face and even though I knew we lived in different worlds, for a moment I saw her as she was, just another person. Not wanting to dwell on my own problems, I asked her about her family, listening as she painted a picture of a cramped cottage and boisterous siblings. The strange comradery vanished as soon as the door swung open and Fred appeared. Her face became a stone mask again and she scurried away silently. Fred looked sheepish as he waved a white handkerchief as me.
"I come in peace," he said. "And with an apology."
I waited.
"I was jealous," he said.
"Of William?"
"I thought he was your mysterious lover,"
I knew I shouldn't have laughed but I did. The notion that William Chorley was a dastardly seducer of young ladies was too absurd. Fred grinned and shook his head at the thought.
"Once my head cleared, I realised how foolish I was," he said. "And how much I upset you, for which I am truly sorry."
"Thank you Freddie," I said weakly, unsure if I was worthy of his apology. He had every right to distrust me, even if his suspicions of William were unfounded.
He stepped forward, taking my face in his strong hands and he kissed me warmly on the lips. My heart wanted more but my head knew it was too dangerous.
"Our guests are arriving," I said nervously.
"I know," he said with a sigh. "Let's forget about this morning's unpleasantness and face them together."
I nodded but inside I wanted to stay hidden in this room. There was not a single person in the party who would believe I belonged here, they knew that I was a nobody. No, worse than a nobody, they knew I had once worked for Agatha Chorley to support myself. What could be worse to a horde of idle, rich women than someone who had once earned a wage? For all his reputation, nobody could accuse Fred of having worked a day in life. The stain of servitude was as bad as the stain of scandal, but I would face them with my head held high. Not even Bella Morton's sneers at dinner would break me, because if I was anything, I was a survivor.