My Secret, Chapter 8

Chapter 8:
A secret revealed

'Miss Mary', the gentle voice permeated into my deep undreaming subconscious, 'Miss, its time to wake up now.'

I groaned, and pulled the covers further over my head, vainly trying to burrow away from the noise, and drop back into the world of sleep.

'Mmmm... ' I muttered, my eyelids fluttering open.

'Come on now Miss, you have a busy day today.' Sarah's voice broke through my reveire, forcing me to open my eyes.

'Not yet Sarah, its still too early!' I moaned, with my head under the covers, but she persisted despite my pleas.

'Mrs Medlock is taking thee to tha' village today. She said you might be visiting Martha -
At the mention of Martha's name, I threw the covers aside and sat up, rubbing my bleary eyes.

'Did you say something about visiting Martha, Sarah?'

'Aye!', she laughed. 'and it looks as though nothing else is going to get you out of bed this mornin'.'

I yawned, 'I think you'd be correct in assuming that.' I had arrived back late last night, after my foray into the gardens with Dickon, and I sorely felt the lack of sleep that my midnight wanderings had produced. Nonetheless, I thought, last night had been worth it. I didn't know how I would get through the day though, and I was already dreaming of what would come the night ahead. However, it was a rare thing that I got a chance to visit Martha, and if anyone could take my mind off Dickon, she could.

'Alright', I'm up,' I said, getting out of bed and shivering in the cool morning air. I drew my arms around me and moved closer to the fireplace, where Sarah was waiting to help dress me. Ever since Mrs Medlock had made me start wearing a corset, I had to have assistance from Sarah every morning to lace me up.

I unbuttoned my heavy nightgown, and Sarah pulled it up off over my head. I still shivered, waiting for her to ask me to turn around so she could put my corset on, but instead she was staring at me, and her face had begun to turn crimson.

'What is it, Sarah?', I asked, feeling confused.

'Its your neck, miss...' she replied, looking down in embarrassment. 'You've got a...a mark.'

I strode over to the mirror and saw for myself the dark red mark that had emerged. Flushing, I remembered Dickon's kisses the night before. He must have done this when he was kissing my neck, I thought. He must have kissed me too hard.

'Oh this!', I said, laughing loudly. 'well, I don't know how this could have happened? probably when I buttoned my gown up too tight yesterday. I must have pinched the skin a little'

'I know what that is Miss Mary, and you don't get em' from buttonin' up yer gown.'

Now it was my turn to go crimson, and I looked down, utterly embarrassed, and a little afraid. If Sarah knew what it was, I thought, then surely Mrs Medlock would know too.

'If you don't mind me askin' Miss, who did it?' she said these words kindly, not accusatory at all. I looked up at her.

'It was Dickon, Sarah. I've... ah... we've began seeing each other.'

Saying the words out loud made it seem more real, and I found myself blushing again. Sarah was obviously not surprised, because she nodded to herself, and came closer to me.

'Aye, I thought it might be him. You see a lot of him, Miss, don't you.'

I nodded, and she nodded assent.

'Promise you won't tell anyone, Sarah? this has to be kept secret. This is my secret, perhaps my greatest secret. If anyone found out, he might be turned out of his place – and I would never be allowed to see him again.'

Sarah smiled. 'You don't need to worry yourself, Miss. I won't tell a soul. I promise.' She looked at me then, taking me all in. My knotted hair, the dark circles under my eyes, the mark on my neck... 'you went out last night to see 'im Miss, didn't you?'

'Yes.'

She sighed then, and went to get my corset from it's place in the cupboard. She strode over and eased it around my body, then began to do the laces up.

'And I'm going out to see him again tonight, Sarah', I said softly. 'I couldn't bear it if I couldn't see him again.'

She turned to look at me, her eyes filling with understanding, and an underlying sorrow. 'Oh Miss, what are you going to do? Theres talk of you going to London to make you into a lady...what are you going to do about Dickon?'

'I don't know, Sarah, I just don't know...' I replied, trying to choke back the sobs that threatened to break. 'I just want to be with him, and my Uncle is making me leave... and... I...'

My eyes overflowed with tears, and Sarah rushed around to face me, drawing me close to her.

'Oh Miss... I'm sorry.'

'That's alright, Sarah', I sniffed, once the tears had run their course. 'But I'll do whatever it takes to make my 'trip' to London as short as possible, regardless of what my Uncle thinks.'

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Later that morning I found myself seated in the carriage, with Mrs Medlock sitting stiffly at my side.

'Really child', she said looking me over 'I don't know why you insisted on wearing such a high necked gown in this type of weather. You will give yourself a fever.'

I watched the scenery flying by outside the window, the moors green and vivid, framed by a blue sky, thanking whatever supreme power that was up there, that ladies fashions currently favoured gowns with ridiculously high necklines.

'I just felt like wearing this dress, thats all.' I replied. 'Besides, its a new one which Martha has not yet seen me wear.'

'Hmmph', she replied 'Well I still think it is very unsuitable.'

The rest of the trip passed in silence, with neither of us having anything to say to the other, and at legnth we saw the village approach. John, the driver, stopped the carriage outside a small red brick house, that was joined in a row to other similar dwellings. Mrs Medlock had been promising me a trip to the village for months, and this was the first time I had seen Martha since spring. Now Autumn was fast approaching, and I was looking forward to seeing her and her young baby.

'Well, here we are then', Mrs Medlock announced, as if she was making sure I had realised the carriage had stopped. We stepped out, and made our way up to Martha's cottage. Mrs Medlock knocked rather stiffly, and presently we heard the sound of scurrying feet come from inside.

'I'm comin',' a muffled voice called, and I smiled as I recognised Martha's broad accent. The door opened and Martha stood breathless, clutching a young infant. Seeing us, a smile lit up her plump face.

'Why Mrs Medlock! and Miss Mary. I wasn't expecting you so early, please come in.'

She waved us into the house 'Excuse the mess, its hard to keep clean with all the wee un's around. Jemmy's sleepin' at tha moment though, so I have a bit of time to myself, which is nice.'

Once we were inside the house Martha took the opportunity to come over and personally inspect me. I was struck by how much she resembled Dickon – for she was his sister, the same eyes, I thought. The same hair colour... without concsiously realising it, I was searching Martha's features for Dickons – the features of the young man that had so captured my heart.

'My Miss Mary!', she exclaimed. 'Don't you just look like a right proper lady now?' who would have thought, aye?! she winked at me, then turned to Mrs Medlock and curtsied. 'I'm pleased to see you're well, Ma'am.'

'Yes, well, I have been busy of course, Martha. But keeping well, yes.' she softened.

Martha put the kettle on to boil, and gestured towards the kitchen table. We sat down with her as we drank tea and talked about all the news of Misselthwaite. Martha still enjoyed keeping up with the gossip of the large house, and listened avidly to Mrs Medlocks descriptions of the goings on of the servants and residents of Misselthwaite. The subject then turned to my immenent departure, and Martha gave me a sympathetic look when Mrs Medlock wasn't watching. She knew how much I loved Misselthwaite, and the secret garden, and how much I would miss it. If only she knew, I thought, that it is her brother I will miss most of all.
As if on cue, Martha began talking about Dickon.

'I know my brother is enjoyin' his position at Misselthwaite, Ma'am', she said to Mrs Medlock. 'and you'll be pleased to know that his wages are helping support our Mother and her wee'uns.'
'Well Martha, I'm pleased to hear it.' Mrs Medlock replied. 'Of course you are probably aware that we are training Dickon to take the place of Ben Weatherstaff when he retires, which won't be far away now. Although he's already a very adept gardener, for someone so young.' she added, taking a delicate sip from her cup of tea. 'We expect great things of Dickon, Martha.' she said, and Martha beamed with pride at her younger brother.

'Does Dickon still help thee with the secret garden? Martha asked me.

'Ah, yes, of course,' I stammered, hoping that she wouldn't notice the flush that came over my cheeks as she mentioned him in relation to me. 'but he doesn't spend as much time in there as he used to.'

'And of course, Miss Lennox does not have much time in her day now for gardening, Martha,' Mrs Medlock interjected. 'She is now being prepared for high society in London – and it is not considered ladylike to go tramping through gardens in the circles that she will be moving in.'

'Oh I see...' Martha replied politely, but once again winking at me, when Mrs Medlock wasn't looking. Martha was one of the people who knew me better than anyone, and she knew that nothing could keep me away from the secret garden for too long.

'That reminds me, I must go to the dressmakers shop in the to make some final purchases – did you want to come along Mary, or would you prefer to stay here with Martha?' Mrs Medlock spoke, getting up from the table and straightening her skirts.

The choice was an obvious one.

'I think I'll stay here, Mrs Medlock', I replied simply.

'Very well then, if you'll excuse me, Martha.' She turned towards me. 'I will see you in around a quarter of an hour Mary. In the meantime, do try not to bother Martha too much.'

'I'll see you out Ma'am,' Martha replied, getting up and following Mrs Medlock out of the room. I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as they were gone, and then noticed how hot the morning had become. It was late autumn, but today was warmer than usual, and I was feeling the heat in the small, cramped kitchen. I reached up, and absentmindedly undid a few of the buttons of the tight gown that restricted my neck. I breathed out, feeling better already, and listened to Martha saying her goodbyes to Mrs Medlock, and then heard how soft footsteps coming down the hall towards me.

'Well, now that the old battleaxe has gone, perhaps tha can tell me how tha really feels about goin' away ta London,' Martha began, taking her seat at the table. 'I can imagine tha isna happy leavin'?'

We slipped into the easy manner of speaking that we had had for so many years. Martha nodding in sympathy as I relayed her all the details of the last month – ommiting of course, those that related to my feelings for her brother. The heat was becoming unbearable once again, and I undid some more buttons as I spoke, and then noticed as Martha's glance towards me changed, and a wry smile formed on her face.

'I see tha has been ... busy recently?' she asked, gesturing towards my neck.

'What do you mean?' I replied, and then with horror realised that I had been unbuttoning the neck of my gown, leaving the large mark in plain sight. My hand instinctively flew to my neck and I hastily buttoned up my gown.

Martha only smiled at me in a reassuring way. 'Its alright, Miss Mary. You're not the first girl in the world to have one, and it will fade in a few days.' She then leaned forward and asked me 'so who's the lucky man'.

What else could I say, I thought, so I said the only thing I could. I told her the truth.

'It's your brother, Martha. It's Dickon.'

Martha's reaction surprised me. She merely nodded.

'Aye, I know. Many a time he's been here to see me. I told the missus that all he talks about when he's here is tha garden. In a way that's true, but recently all he talks about is thee, Miss Mary.'

'You... you know?' I spluttered.

'Aye, I've known for a while now. Known that he is very fond of thee.'

I felt emotion surging up inside me as she spoke, and I struggled to contain myself.

'I...I think I love him, Martha.'

The words came out before I'd even realised what it was I was saying, and I suddenly felt afraid, as if Martha wouldn't approve of what I had said. I usually didn't care one bit for what people's opinions of me were, but Martha was one of my dearest friends – and I valued her opinion more than she knew.

'I know Miss. He is an easy person to love, and I can see he has made tha happy.'

'More happy than you could imagine, Martha.' I replied, once again feeling emotions so powerful overcome me that I was afraid I would be engulfed by them, and Lord forbid, begin sobbing at Martha's kitchen table.

She gave a small smile just then, and glanced to the small band of gold that adorned her finger. 'No, I can imagine. I know how it is to love someone and to be loved in return.' she looked up at me. 'After tha knows love, it becomes hard to live without it.'

'But Martha, how I am I going to bear being without Dickon while I am away? I don't even have a way of communicating with him? I can't exactly go writing him letters? how am I going to be able to stand it?'

Her reply was firm, but not lacking in warmth. 'Tha will stand it, Miss, because tha spirit is strong and tha heart is true. And when tha returns to Misselthwaite, Dickon will be waitin' for thee. And if thee wishes to correspond with him, why, just address the letters to me, and I will pass them on in turn. No one will be any the wiser.'

She took my hands in hers then, like she had done so many times in the past, and held them tight, looking into my eyes, which despite my self control, were brimming with tears.

'I canna think of a better match for our Dickon', she said 'than tha stubborn slip of a girl that came our way all those years ago.'

I laughed in spite of myself, and brought a hand up to my eyes to wipe away my tears.

'Thank you Martha,' I said, and then impulsively reached up and hugged her tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and softness of her.

She pulled back, tenderly stroked my face, then said 'Now button up your gown Miss, before the Mistress catches on, and don't fret. Everything will work out, I know it.' Just then there came the cry of an infant from the next room, and Martha got up. 'It sounds like little Jemmy is awake', she said – 'he was due to wake up any time now. Would tha like to hold him?'

I watched Martha as she went out of the room, her skirts swishing at her heels. Suddenly it seemed like there was hope – I would be able to communicate with Dickon after all! The day suddenly seemed so much brighter, and the anticipation of the night grew. A warm feeling grew within me, and seemed to spread, filling every cell in my body with happiness and hope. It wouldn't be long now until I saw Dickon again – and this time we would be safe in our secret garden, far away from the prying eyes of the world.