My Secret, chapter 2

Chapter 2:
London beckons

Later that evening, I lay in bed, listening to the soft sound of the rain.
It had begun to rain a short while after I had returned, with Dickon at my side. He had walked with me, arm in arm, to the manor house, through the warm glow of evening. We had arrived at the house together, and I was feeling cheered by his constant reassurances. Of course, most of the time I was perfectly able to cheer myself up, but I had to admit how much Dickon's presence had soothed me. For a boy (or now, young man), I thought, he seemed to show a great deal of sensitvitiy.

But it had always been so with Dickon. Since I had first met him, I had thought of him as being kind, caring, and gentle. Now, having got to know him some more, I knew that the kindness was inherent in his nature, but he was not without a wicked sense of humour. I think I could live to be an old lady of ninety and never forget the time that he ate a live worm in front of me, saying 'mmm...' as he did so, as if he had just eaten one of the finest delicacies known to man!

The rain droned on overhead, and I turned in my bed, trying to make myself feel more comfortable. Usually, I found the rain both soothing and calming, and had often said to Martha that there was no better antidote to insomnia than falling asleep while listening to the rain fall outside. Tonight however, no sleep would come. I lay awake in the dark, watching the embers of the fire burn down within the grate, and knew that tonight, sleep would be a long time coming.

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It had all began three months ago, when my Uncle had invited me to share a cup of tea with him in his study.

We had begun by talking about Colin, and how he was doing in London with the Sutherland family. I knew all about the Sutherland family from his letters, which would arrive every month or so. There was Dr Sutherland, and Mrs Sutherland, and their children: William, Patricia, and Samantha. They lived in London where Dr Sutherland worked as a respected physician, tending to wealthy patrons (and once or twice those with royal affiliations, my Uncle had been quick to point out). Colin had gone to stay with the Sutherlands as arranged by our Uncle's brother, Dr. Craven, who had known Dr Sutherland from their schoolboy days. We laughed together as my uncle had read out a letter from Colin, detailing his latest escapade at school, then he had put the letter down on his desk and looked at me seriously with his dark eyes – as if seeing me for the first time.
'Mary, you know that Dr Sutherland's daughter, Samantha, is your age and will be entering society at the end of this year, once she turns sixteen.'
'Yes Uncle', I had said.
'You know Mary, when your parents died, I was appointed your legal guardian – and as such, it is my responsibility to see that you are cared for in the correct manner, and given a thorough education. Mary, I'm afraid that I have not been fulfilling the obligations to your parents in a major respect – that of preparing you for entering your place in society, as other young women begin to do at your age.'

I had looked at him then, wondering where this conversation was leading... I felt a feeling of dread beginning to form in the pit of my stomach and I looked intently at him and with such an obvious questioning in my eyes that he went on.

'Mary, it really is such a pity that you are stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, when other young ladies are given the opportunity to present themselves to society... I know that your parents would be very upset thinking of you running wild out here, at the age of fifteen!'
He had sighed then, and looked at me earnestly.

'What am I going to do with you, Mary? what do I know of raising a young woman? Don't think that I am so oblivious to you that I don't realise you're not a child any more – although scarcely a woman, but hardly a child.'

I sat before him, deep in thought. I knew all about young women entering society. I had grown up in India, where young ladies were schooled from childhood as to the specifics of being a lady. I had always found it all so boring and unnecessary – the endless dinner parties, balls, and other social engagements...and here was my uncle proposing I do the same thing! I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

'You don't mean to... ' I had said, my voice shaking in fear and anger. 'You can't!'

'Mary, your cousin Colin is already in London with the Sutherlands. You must join him and begin your education. You cannot keep running around the moors at your age. I simply won't allow it!'

'I don't care if Colin is there!' I had cried passionately, my voice tinged with bitterness. 'My place is here, at Misselthaite, with Dickon, and the garden. Colin has always done what he likes, and besides, he wanted to go to London, why should I be taken away from the one thing I truly love?'.

My uncle had then sighed, once again, put his hands to his head and looked at me, his long hair framing his narrow face. His eyes held mine, and I saw in them a certain weariness, like that of a man who had not slept for many nights. When he spoke his tone was slow and exact, but not without understanding.

'Child, I know this is a hard thing for you to endure, but can't you see that it is for your own good? if you stay out here, and do not enter society, how will I ever be able to find a husband for you, someone to provide for you when I am gone? Don't you see that this is the only way to ensure your future is safe and thus protected? and as for the garden, you will always be able to come back to it. Why, Colin has been gone two years now, and still manages to come home a few weeks a year. It will not be any different for you.'

I looked hard at him, just then, and felt the angry child I used to be, rising up in me – almost to the point of making me want to get up and stamp my foot on the carpet in frustration. 'I don't want to go to London, and I certainly don't want to find a husband! all I need is here, and I dare say, I shall be quite content to live here quite alone until the day I die!' I stopped, seeing his shocked expression and decided to subtly lower my tone. I took a deep breath. 'I appreciate you looking out for me, Uncle Archie, but you obviously do not have my best interests at heart, or you would not dare suggest something that would make me feel so unbearably unhappy.'

He met my gaze and said evenly 'You will go to the Sutherland's, Mary. As your legal guardian, It is my word that counts in such matters.' He softened his tone and looked down on me, the weariness he carried more evident than ever. 'You will eventually understand, I hope, and realise why I had to do this.'

Without waiting for an answer, he rang the bell for Mrs Medlock, and left me shaking in my chair. The whole world felt as though it had been tilted slightly on his axis, and I was breathing hard and fast, a jumble of images and feelings colliding through my mind. Without saying a word, or giving him a backwards glance, I got up and ran out of the study, slamming the door hard behind me. Fighting back sobs, I had climbed the stairs with breathless impatience, needing so much to be alone and put my thoughts in order. At last I had reached my bedroom, pausing only to lock my door and had then flung myself on my bed, my thoughts turning over and over in my mind. How could he, how could he? how could he?

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Three months later and I was still thinking those exact thoughts, and it was so much more of a reality now than it was then. Three months had passed, and at times I had thought my uncle would forget his plan of sending me to stay with the Sutherland family, where I would receive my so called 'proper' education. I had almost thought I was safe, and then Mrs. Medlock had brought it up with me this afternoon.

I had just got in from working in the garden and had arrived in my room to see Mrs Medlock, going through my wardrobe with one of the parlour maids. She was in the process of taking out various dresses and looking at them intently, before either putting them back in my closet, or throwing them down onto an ever increasing pile on my bed.

'Now what's this,' I heard her say, as she held up a printed white gown and eyed it carefully. 'Fit for the country, maybe, but...' her voice trailed off, and I watched as she tossed the gown carelessly upon the pile.

'What are you doing, Mrs. Medlock?' I had asked her, after coming in from the garden and seeing her engaged in such a task. Why are you looking at my gowns now? I don't need any more, and we both know that I already have more than enough as it is.'

'I am under strict orders from your uncle', she had replied 'to look at your wardrobe and decide what is suitable and what is not for your new life. No doubt your uncle has discussed it with you, and you are aware you will be leaving Misselthaite for London, in less than a month.
My eyes must have widened then, because she had put down the gown and looked at me in startlement.

'Come now, surely this is not a surprise? why, Lord Craven told me that he had mentioned his plans to you over three months ago!'

'I...ah, yes', I had falteringly said then, my mind whirling in panic.

'Well then, you obviously know that you will be staying with the Sutherland family in London for the next year, and will therefore understand why none of these old gowns will be suitable for your new residence.' She had turned to me then, and what she said next had turned my blood cold. 'Your Uncle has made plans for you to leave in a month's time. That is why I am going through your gowns now.'

I stood there, speechless, in my dirty gown and muddy boots. She had looked at me then, and I noticed her gaze move all the way down from my straw hat to the bottom of my shoes. 'Make a lady of her, indeed...' I heard her say softly to herself, before straightening up and beckoning to the young parlour maid beside her. 'Susan', she had said, 'please ask Mr Locke to prepare the carriage for Miss Lennox and myself tomorrow morning. I will need to accompany Miss Lennox to the village so we can make plans to prepare her new wardrobe.'

And so I lay awake, knowing that no sleep would come and I listened to the rain. I thought of Dickon, outside in that rain, alone somewhere, and I felt tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes. I thought of how he had touched my shoulder gently, and then walked with me back into the house. I thought of his blue eyes, which twinkled with mischief and merriment, and wished more than anything that I did not feel so alone on such a bleak night.