Sequel: Everlasting

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.
Image

December 10th, 1781 ;

Mary smiled falsely as she stood next to her soon to be husband as he spoke to several business companions about figures and sums that Mary’s mind could not comprehend. Not because she was dimwitted, because she had a way with numbers that surprised even her own father but because she was sweltering. The dress was far too much to be wearing in a crowd full of people, and even with the windows and doors open there was no breeze to sift air through.

Though, she believed her overheated state came more from nerves than the temperature of the room. “Will you excuse me?” She asked softly, placing a gentle hand to Harold’s arm to gain his attention. “I must get something to drink.”

“Are you unwell?” Harold asked, suddenly his attention turned full to her as if his associates had disappeared. It was his undivided concern that endeared him to her, even in her reluctance to marry. It assured her that while unloving their marriage would be peaceful and have some feeling to it.

Mary shook her head, “I am fine. I am just parched.” When he hesitated to turn back to his conversation she assured, “Truly, I am well.”

When Harold was once again talking to his associates she turned and walked from the group towards the punch table. A maid handed her a small glass and she sipped it eagerly, wishing it was something stronger to calm her frayed nerves.

Everything was so overwhelming. People who were complete strangers congratulated her and her soon to be husband, asked questions of them that Mary frankly could not answer and her mother seemed to taunt her with by knowing the answer. It showed just how divested Mary was in the marriage.

Mary promised herself that she would try harder to accept her pending nuptials. If only for the sake of Harold who deserved sainthood for his constant, unbending strength and kindness. Mary knew he could feel her reluctance and did everything to make it easy for her to accept it; much more than any groom had to do.

“Are you sure you are well?” Harold asked as he strode next to her, taking a glass from the maid and turning towards her. “You have gone pale”

“I am fine, Harold.”

“Harry,” he corrected chastely. “And if you insist.”

Ignoring his correction Mary said, “You did not have to leave your discussion to attend to me; I will be fine. It’s just sweltering in here, is all.”

Harold shook his head, his blue eyes filled with concern, “Its barely warm. I think I will fetch your mother, you must be getting ill, getting a fever.”

Mary was about to protest vehemently when a hurried movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Two footman racing towards the entrance of the large parlor, “Now arriving; the right and honorable Waverly, Earl of Scarbourgh.”

Mary could feel her heartbeat speed up as Lord Scarbourgh stepped into view and everyone turned their astonished looked onto them. He looked handsome, striking even in his proper clothes, the cobalt blue and gold paired well with his tanned skin and deep blue eyes. The badges of his army rank clear as daylight on his sleeve as he towered over his peers, even more so with his powdered wig and hat.

Mary began to sputter, looking around frantically for her mother; her eyes falling on the bright yellow fabric of her mother’s dress as she made her way through the crowd towards their Earl. Mary watched as her mother curtsied and exchanged words with him before escorting him right in Mary’s direction.

“My Lord,” Sophia began the introduction slowly, her eyes pinning Mary with a look that told Mary she had to be on her best behavior. “This is my son-in-law to be Harold Arnold and my lovely daughter Mary Lynn.”

Harold bowed quickly, “My Lord thank you for gracing us with your presence this evening. We are honored to have you attend our function.”

Lord Scarbourgh nodded, “The pleasure is mine, when I received the invitation I was flattered.”

Mary swallowed the knot in her throat and smiled, “I am too thankful of your acceptance. Your attendance is a welcomed surprise to me and I must say thank you once more for your clemency towards my maid. Hopefully your carriage driver is well after being on the bad end of Sarah’s tongue?”

“He is hardy and hale,” Lord Scarbourgh stated, “He was rueful to take the tongue lashing I gave him once my business was completed. Your maid did nothing wrong and was right in the regard that he should have been in better control of my horses.”

Mary would have defended his carriage driver had one of Harold’s long-time friend not approached at that moment, “My Lord,” he greeted with a bow. “If I may interrupt? Harold, a few of the gents and I are about to cut cigars and we want you to enjoy one with us.” Then with a look—that was second thought—towards Mary he added, “If your fiancé would not mind?”

Shaking her head, “No. No, that is fine. Go have a smoke.” She urged, placing a gently hand on his arm, “I will just be waiting here when you return.”

When Harold quickly departed Sophia began to mutter, “Oh goodness, I cannot even have a few moments to myself to speak with my own daughter. The maids are ruining everything. I told them to serve the appetizers after the men returned from their cigars.” Then with an elaborate swish of her gown turned to face the Lord once more, “My Lord, if you will please excuse me. I must attend to my household.”

With that Mary was left alone with Lord Scarbourgh.