My Secret, Chapter 17

Chapter 17:
The tale of Samantha Sutherland

The trip to Colin and Mary's home had been an eventful one so far, and on a dreary night in late October 1908, we had finally arrived in the village of Thwaite.

The first thing I remember was of small, stone cottages with thatched roofs – a far cry from the grand buildings of London that I was accustomed to. I had never ventured to this part of the country before, and found the scenery amazing – very rugged and wild, the moors seeming to flow on forever and ever. My curiosity and amazement at this strange place did little to conceal my nerves, and I'm sure Mary and Colin must have realised due to the strange looks I received whilst we were on the train.

Colin had rented us a set of rooms in the local Public House for our first night in Thwaite, as it was too late in the day to travel the long distance to Misselthwaite Manor.

I couldn't help but wonder what Mother and Father would do when they found out that Mary, Colin, and I had 'disappeared'. I had never done anything so brazenly disobedient in my life (although I would have liked to[at times), and all sorts of thoughts were buzzing through my head. Would they disown me? Would they send out a search party? Would they find me and drag me back to London? I had hoped to explain everything to them in the letter that I had left behind. It had seemed like a logical idea at the time, however, in hindsight, it seemed like I had made a grave error in judgement. I couldn't help but think how they would react when they read about what William had done.

However, I would never feel as though I had done the wrong thing in leaving with Mary. I had only known her for two months, yet she had proved to be the best friend I had ever had.

I had first met Mary's cousin, Colin, almost three years ago, when he had arrived at our house in London, shortly after my thirteenth birthday. He had been a scrawny boy back then, very enthusiastic about science (in particular, Physics) and with a passion for knowledge. He had driven us all crazy with his ability to have the answer for everything, even when I suspected sometimes he was not correct.

At first, Colin had followed my older brother, William, around and seemed to worship the ground he walked on. William had majored in Science at University, and was now studying to become a doctor, like our Father. Mother had explained to me that Colin had grown up without any siblings, which was why he was so interested in spending time with William. Colin never talked much to me, and I suspect he ignored me for the most part because I was a girl.
Being born a girl certainly has it's disadvantages, I thought. While my older brother got the opportunity to study and pursue an academic career, my sister Patrica, and I were confined to the house, being schooled by a governess in how to be a lady. Our futures were confined to becoming someone's wife, and our education was tailored specifically towards attracting and retaining a young man. I recall Pat once saying to me that I had to go and make everything difficult for myself, and there was never a more difficult time in my life than when I had fallen in love with one of William's close friends – a young man named Edward St John.

'Samantha', he had whispered softly to me, one night when we were alone in the garden of my parent's house. It was in the middle of summer, and the night was warm and balmy. He had reached up to my face, and brushed a strand of dark hair away, and had then traced his fingers lightly down the side of my face. I had breathed deeply, and closed my eyes, trying to remain perfectly still – willing him to keep going, yet becoming (almost) afraid and wanting him to stop.

We met frequently after that – whenever we could manage. This was not difficult for him. He was twenty years old – much older than I. I was but fifteen. The balmy night spent in the garden became the first of a series of such meetings. Our light touches progressed to passionate embraces. When we were apart, I could think of nothing else but when we would next meet, and the minutes of the day would drag by like hours. 'My dear girl, why do you look at the clock so often?' my governess would scold, and I would see Pat looking at me quizzically. I dreampt of us being together forever, of running away to Gretna Green and getting married (my Mother would have been shocked to think of her innocent daughter thinking such scandalous thoughts, but then my parents were very naïve back then). However, none of this came to pass, because, on a cold day in early spring, Edward broke my heart.

He had become distant from me, a couple of weeks before the news broke. I had written him numerous letters, asking him when we could next meet again, and had received short, sharp replies such as 'We shall meet when my exams finish, for I am terribly busy', or worse, no reply at all. I had begun to wonder if he was in some kind of trouble, but I was soon to find out that it was worse, far worse than that.

I distinctly remember the morning I had found out. We were at home, entertaining Grandmother's bridge friends. There were around five of them, and we were seated in the sitting room, in front of the roaring fire. The maids had brought in tea and cake and I was idly looking at the clock, waiting for the morning post to come in. I was wondering if today, would bring a letter for me, that perhaps today I would find out what had been going on with Edward.
'Did you hear the news, my dear,' spoke up Mrs Emery, Grandmother's oldest friend (and the biggest gossip, in my opinion) 'that the young Mr St John is to be wed at last?'

'What, you mean William's friend?' my Grandmother had asked, her mouth full of cake.

'Why yes, “Mr Edward St John", I believe he is called,' Mrs Emery had replied 'and to the young heiress he met early in the season. They are to be wed in two week's time.'

I had gasped, and dropped my cake on the floor. My entire face drained of colour. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't!

'My dear Samantha, are you unwell, child?' my Grandmother had asked me, looking over in my direction.

'I, I've dropped my cake...I'm sorry.' I had said shakily, before leaning back in my chair. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the world as I had known it, tearing apart before my eyes.

I could feel all the old ladies looking as me as I got up and stumbled blindly from the room. I could barely see where I was going for the tears that obstructed my view. Somehow I stumbled up to my room, flung myself down on my bed, and wept.

Later that night I had smashed my small hand held mirror in frustration and pain. It was my fault that he didn't want me, who would want such an ugly pale girl. I remember picking up one of the small jagged pieces, wanting to end it all. What future did I have now that Edward was gone? What future was there without him loving me? I had drawn the small jagged edge over the white of my skin, and then, hating myself, pressed it deeper.

I told all of this to Mary, later, but I did not go into such great detail. I was too ashamed at what had happened. My wrists to this day bear the scars of my suffering. Of course, I am sure that she had seen them, and had been curious, but she had never directly asked, for which I was grateful. Once, when we were laying in bed, she had asked me about Edward and I had told her some – not all, of what had happened. But then, I could trust her with my secret, as she was trusting me to keep hers – that she had a beau back at her home in Yorkshire – a country lad who had helped her tend one of the manor gardens.

It had all sounded so romantic, and so unlike the experiences that I had had with Edward. Her Dickon sounded so gentle and kind, patient and caring. He seemed so far removed from the general arrogance of the young men that I knew.

She had suffered greatly while she has been in London. My own brother, being the cause. William had turned out to be a vile villan, who I was ashamed to call my brother. I remember the night that I had found her – the night of our sixteenth birthday party. She had been gone for a long time, and I had begun to get angry with her. She said she'd only be gone for a few minutes, I thought to myself, and it's been almost an hour! Furiously l had left the room, and walked forcefully up the stairs to our bedroom. I had stopped when I heard the sound of Mary's sobs coming from beyond the bedroom door.

Colin and I had sat by the fireplace at the Inn in Thwaite, solemnly staring into the flickering flames. The remains of a light supper sat on the table nearby, along with an opened bottle of wine. Colin had insisted on ordering it, in order to 'steady our nerves'. Mary had gone to bed an hour previously, claiming she was exhausted. This left Colin and I alone for the first time since I had been to see him, after Mary became unwell.

Colin was leaning back into the large armchair, sitting opposite from me. His face looked weary, and there were dark circles under his eyes. We had barely slept the night before, and of course had spent many hours sitting in the train station at King's cross, waiting for the early morning train to Thwaite. The weariness had caught up with me, also, but I had wanted to speak to Colin alone, after Mary had gone to bed.

Colin however, beat me to it.

'Sam... I'm worried about Mary.'

He had said it so quietly, I had barely heard him. Colin Craven wasn't usually one to speak in whispers.

I glanced towards the door to the bedroom.

'Me too.' I had said softly.

'I know we need to get her back to Misslethwaite, Sam. But I've never seen her like this before. What happened to her...' he trailed off then, raising his hands hopelessly, lost for words.

'We're doing the right thing, Colin – in getting her home, I mean. She needs us right now, and we're here for her. Things will get better.'

'I hope so. I just feel so -'

'Helpless?' I finished.

'and guilty.' he continued. 'I should have seen what he was and ... stopped him from going near her.'

'I feel guilty too, Colin. I didn't go looking for her that night until it was too late. If I had done, perhaps none of this would have happened.'

'She is my only cousin, Sam. She is ... so dear to me.'

'I just feel so angry and upset. Colin, my own brother did this to her! My own brother!'

I could feel my voice rising, and I realised that I must have been speaking rather loudly, as Colin turned quickly and looked towards the door.

'I'm sorry...' I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. 'I ... I just feel so vile to know that he is ... my brother.' I looked away, staring into the glowing embers, wiling myself not to lose control.
I felt Colin's place his hand on my own, rather awkwardly. I supposed he wasn't used to comforting hysterical girls.

'It will all be alright, Sam, you'll see.' he said gently, as he stroked my hand. I looked up at him and noticed his agate grey eyes, which were full of concern.

'I hope so.' I had replied, feeling embarrassed that he had seen me at such a weak moment.
He reached into his pocket and took out a red handkerchief. 'Here, take this. I think you need it more than I do.'

'Thank you', I began 'I -'

But I never got to finish, as a the sound of a loud scream pierced through the still night air.

My Secret, Chapter 16

My Secret – Chapter 16:
The Outcome

'Mary, calm down. I had to talk to him.' Sam was standing by the door, wringing her hands, her pale face distraught. 'He is your cousin. He deserves to know.'

I smashed another vase to the ground, fury rising and taking control.

'You knew damned well that I didn't want Colin to know. I should never have told you. Never!'
I was livid, shaking with rage, and wishing that I could tear off the dress that constricted me at my waist and throat. My despair had recently begun to turn into anger, and now it was building inside me, and I felt powerless to control it.

'Mary,' she gulped 'you're not yourself right now. If you would only listen to what I've got to say - '

'Say what?' I interjected, my voice cutting through the air like a knife. 'That he no longer wants anything to do with me because of what happened between me and his precious William?' I laughed hollowly, 'Lord knows, he probably wishes that William did more than force himself on me!'

'He wants to help you!' Sam shouted. I looked up at her, hardly believing what she had just said.
'What?' I gasped. This was unexpected, to say the least.

'He said that he thinks William's behaviour has been despicable and villainous. Mary, he wants to help you – us – if you'll have him.'

'He said that?'

'Yes Mary, he did.'

I sighed and sank to the bed, overwhelmed with relief, and felt the anger begin to dissipate.

'Yes, I do want him. If our plan is to succeed, we will need his help. Oh Sam!' I looked around surveying the room, taking in the fragments of glass and strewn flowers that littered the carpet. I looked at them in astonishment, as though they had been scattered by somebody else. I lifted my hands helplessly. Softly I said, 'I'm sorry.'

She responded only by coming to me and putting her arms around me, pulling her closely towards her. I responded to her warmth, which had been a constant source of comfort over the past week since the night of the party.

'It's alright. I'll just tell Mother that the wind blew it over.' she smiled. 'I never did like that vase, anyway.'

'Neither did I.' I whispered, and all of a sudden the two of us broke into nervous laughter. It was only for a brief moment, but it was enough.

She bent down and gathered the broken pieces in her hands, moving them to the nearby washbasin. I bent down to help her, thinking ironically of how much my life had become like the shattered vase. All at once pure and whole, and then a split second later, damaged beyond repair. I sighed, trying to push the thought out of my mind. William had done more than hurt me physically.

Luckily for me, he had departed unexpectedly the morning following the party. I hadn't known it then, as I had lain ill and feverish, but Sam had informed me of it later. It hadn't taken much for her to find out the cause of my sickness, apparently I had been groaning and talking in my sleep. When she had discovered what her brother had done it had taken all my strength to stop her from running to see her Father and telling him what had happened.

I might have stopped her from doing that, but together the two of us had come up with an even better plan.

Sam had gone to see Colin and tell him what had transpired, knowing that in order for our plan to work, we needed his help.

'So I went and spoke to him earlier today', Sam was telling me, as we sat together in our room that night. 'He was in his room and I went right in. I think he was surprised to see me as he sat straight up in his desk, and dropped his pen – and looked at me with those big grey eyes of his. I told him that I had something urgent to talk to him about and that he had to promise to keep what I was going to tell him, a secret.'

Sam's story:

'Colin', I said. 'I need to know that I can trust you.'

He had looked at me so intently then, that I thought his eyes might have almost popped out of his head.

'Trust me?' he had said, sounding confused.

'Yes, I need to be able to trust me. I have something very serious to discuss with you.'

I was worried that the poor thing felt as though it was something to do with him, some indiscretion or other that he thought he might have committed. Nonetheless, I closed the door and sat down on his bed, facing him. He had gone quite white by this stage.

'It's about your cousin. She's in a lot of trouble.'

'M-Mary?!' he had stammered, looking shocked.

I then nodded to him, with a grim expression on my face.

'Colin…something terrible has happened to her, and she needs your help.'

He had then put his head in his hands, and I had gone to him.

'What happened?' he whispered.

'William, he…. Colin…he forced himself on her.' I blurted it out quickly, then continued. 'It happened the night of the party. That's why she's been keeping to her room so much over the past few days. Colin…I think that may be why William left so suddenly the next day.'

Colin's face grew more pale, and when he spoke his voice was quiet, and trembled slightly. 'I simply can't believe this…that Will would do such a thing... Sam... please say that it isn't true, that this is some kind of trick you and Mary are playing on me.'

'For God's sake Colin Craven!' I had said, my breath exploding out angrily as I spoke. 'This is not a joke. Your cousin needs your help.'

'But William…. I thought- and he is your brother, Sam.'

'Look Colin, do you think I don't know that? And to be honest with you, he ceased being my brother when he tried to force himself on your cousin.'

I had felt close to tears at that point, drained from the events of the past few days. I had thought of you then, Mary, and how pale and thin you were growing, and I felt so sick at the thought that I was his sister. I had wanted to take Colin and shake him, and force him to understand. However, by some miracle, he did.

'You know', he said slowly 'I always did feel that there was a part of Will that I couldn't trust. I know he liked…well, there is no other way to put it – he liked his ladies.' He blushed, colour returning to his pale face. 'Earlier this year he took me to a “friend’s” residence and introduced me to some young women, whom I thought were of rather dubious character, and then asked if I - '

'Colin Craven! I do not want to hear about your dalliances with my brother.'

'Oh, I'm sorry Sam.' he said, looking up and seeing me, as though he had forgotten I was there in the room with him. His cheeks grew pinker still, and an uncomfortable silence fell between us.
'Oh never mind about that!' I said impatiently. 'Look, your cousin needs our help.'

'What are we going to do?' he asked, raising his hands hopelessly.

'We are going to make sure we keep Mary safe. Colin…. She is not faring very well and I am worried about her.'

He groaned, his voice growing serious. 'God Sam, I feel awful. I should have seen how William felt – I could have stopped him.'

'Look Colin, there is no point discussing this any further. We cannot undo this. All we can do is keep Mary safe. And you and I both know the place she needs to go for that to happen.'

'Misselthwaite.' he whispered, looking away. 'She needs to go home.'

'And that, Colin Craven, is why we need your help.'

I had moved closer to him, and lowered my voice to a whisper. 'And here is what we are going to do.'

--------------------------


'So that's what happened.' Sam finished. 'I spoke to him, and we came to an arrangement. Once he knew all the details of what happened he seemed determined to do everything in his power to help you – us, Mary. You know that I can't stay here either, not after what has happened.'

'I know. But Sam, I want to make sure you're leaving for the right reasons.'

She raised her hands and gestured around her. 'What is there here for me, Mary? If I stay it will only be a matter of time before Mother organises a match for me. What do I have to look forward to by staying here?'

I wanted to say 'your life' but she was right. There was nothing for her here. I had been in London long enough to know that. I knew that Sam was a spirited girl, and that she felt constricted and trapped with her circumstances.

'It will be dangerous, you know.' my voice sounded hollow. I was so tired. 'They might find out and stop us. And what of when we arrive at Misselthwaite? I hardly think my Uncle will welcome us with open arms.'

'He'll come around, Mary. Especially once we tell him what happened to you.'

I grimaced, the thought of telling my Uncle bringing back images from that fateful night – images I was trying desperately not to dwell on.

'What about your parents?' I said, quickly changing the subject.

'I will leave them a letter explaining everything. What William did, why we had to go, that I felt the need to accompany you, that Colin has also gone for the same reason. They will be angry, Mary, of course I know that. But sometimes you have to make people angry, in order to do the right thing.'

'You're beginning to sound like me,' I said, taking her hand in mine. 'I never did live life to please anybody else.'

She gripped my hand tightly and tried to smile, but her dark eyes showed the fear that she didn't dare to voice.

'I can't deny that I'm afraid, but I want to do this. It feels… right.'

'I'm scared, too. I haven't been home for so long, and….' The question I was so desperate to talk about remained frozen on my lips. Sam noticed my hesitation and asked me softly to go on.
I nervously drew in my breath, 'Well, its just that after what happened… when I tell Dickon that is – Oh, I don't know Sam, I just hope he still loves me, that's all.'

I let my breath out in a shaky exhale and closed my eyes, trying not to see Dickon turning away. Trying not to picture him as I had done so many times over the last week – looking at me in disgust and disbelief before walking away from me. That Dickon would be supportive of me was one of the only things that kept me going. I knew I would have to tell him…. Eventually.

'Mary, your Dickon sounds like a very noble sort of person, someone who is understanding and kind.' she paused, searching for words, and I held my breath again. 'If what you tell him doesn't make him want to go and deal to my brother, then I might just have to knock some sense into him myself!'

We both laughed at this. I had to admit - I loved Sam's sense of humour at times like these.
'I'd like to see you try!' I gasped, still laughing. 'He is a rather big lad.'

'We'll be careful. Colin knows what he is doing. I never thought before this week that I'd put so much trust in him, but Mary, your cousin is a good person. I know it. I guess I just didn't have a chance to see it before. He wants to help you.'

I smiled fondly in spite of myself, remembering the determined little boy who always got his own way. 'Yes, he is a good person, Sam. I just feel as though we've drifted apart over the last two years. I never did tell him about Dickon, either. I don't know how he'd react... you see, the three of us were always so close when we were younger.'

'You know Mary, I think he would be happy for you. I really do. Colin may seem as though he just cares for himself, but I know he cares for you very much, and just wants to see you feeling happy.'

'So he agreed on our plan?' I asked her, closing my eyes to fight back tears. I could almost feel Misselthwaite now; it seemed almost close enough to be able to touch.

'Yes, and together we've worked out all the details. They will never suspect anything. By the time they realise that we've gone, we'll be on our way. Like I said before, I'm going to leave a letter to Mother and Father explaining everything.'

'You shouldn't have to sacrifice your relationship with your parents Sam, for my account,' I said, feeling angry that it had come to this.

'Mary, they will never let me go otherwise… and I want to be with you to make sure that you come through this. I can't stay here now. I am ready to face the consequences of my actions. You needn't worry.'

'Your parents won't be happy, Sam.' In fact, I thought to myself, ‘not happy’ was probably the world's biggest understatement when it came to how they'd feel once they found out that their youngest daughter had run away.

'No,' she said slowly 'they won't be. But Mary, I need to do this. There is nothing for me here. What else am I going to do? I am not destined to live an exciting life. If Mother had her way I would no doubt be engaged already, and about to perpetuate the existence that she had. I don't want that for myself, and if getting into trouble with my parents is the sacrifice I have to make, then so be it.'

She had such a determined look in her eyes, and I didn't doubt for a moment that she meant every word. Gratitude welled up in me, that I had such a friend, who would help me out in my time of need.

'You've been so good to me, Sam…. I know I don't say things like this enough, but thank you.'

She smiled.

'You're very welcome. Now, let’s get ready for bed. We have a big day tomorrow.'

She rang the bell for Charlotte, then said softly to me, 'And don't forget, Mary, you have been such a good friend to me. Helping you in this way is the least I can do.'

-----------------------------

'I don't know why William had to leave in such a hurry.' Mrs Sutherland was saying. 'He hardly mentioned where he was going.'

'You know young men, Lydia,' her Mother, the formidable Mrs Bennet replied. 'They have itchy feet. They are best left to their own devices. Besides,' she said, taking a spoonful of soup, 'didn't he say that he would be visiting Mark Lawrence’s family in Brighton?'

'Yes, he did say that. It's just that he left so abruptly Mother. It is not like him at all.'

'Hmmmph.' the elder woman said. 'He'll come back, mark my words.'

I sat at the dining table idly stirring my soup. I had barely touched my meal. The incident with William had left me without much of an appetite.

Mrs Sutherland turned her attention to me.

'Child, you have hardly eaten any of your soup.'

'I'm sorry Mrs Sutherland, I am not hungry.'

'Well, I hope your Uncle doesn't accuse us of being poor hosts when you return to him in December thin enough for the wind to blow you away.'

I tried my best to smile at her joke. 'I'm sure my appetite will have returned by then.'

I caught Colin's eye at that point, and he looked away rather guiltily. This was to be our last dinner at the Sutherland residence for a while, after all.

'It's a ladies constitution, Lydia.' remarked Mrs Bennet dryly. 'I seem to recall that you did not have a very large appetite at Miss Lennox's age.'

That moved the conversation on to other things as Mrs Sutherland began reminiscing over her youth. Usually, I would have found this irritating as she would talk on and on about the London season and the spectacular dresses, but personally, tonight I was glad for the distraction. They didn't suspect anything, and this time tomorrow I would be safely at Misselthwaite.
It was the only thing I could think about, and, I thought, the only thing that was stopping me from giving in to my weary and battered soul.

------------------------

It was late at night and Sam and I were packing what meagre amount of clothes we could, into two small carpet bags. Silently I folded my gowns, methodically placing them in the bag. We were hoping to travel light, to avoid suspicion.

I placed a white chemise on top of my lilac dress. I was thankful to leave the peach coloured dress on it's hanger in the cupboard, although if I had had the room, I would have liked to take it to Misselthwaite and burn it.

'What should I take, Mary?' Sam whispered. 'I don't know what would be suitable for the country.'

'Just a couple of gowns, nothing fancy, Sam. Make sure you wear some sturdy walking boots, too. You won't be able to go very far in those Satin slippers.' I gestured down at her ruby clad feet.

'We will need our coats, I suppose?' she said, going to her wardrobe.

'Yes, we will. It will be cold on the moors.'

'Right. Coats, scarf, and gloves.'

She was muttering to herself, going to her wardrobe and returning with the necessary items.
I folded the last gown and then remembering, went to the dresser to retrieve my precious letters from Dickon. These I wrapped in an old chemise before tucking them firmly into the bag. I closed the latch, and fastened the buckle. It was done. I was ready to go home.

'When did Colin say we had to meet him?'

'Just past Midnight, outside the house. We figured that would be the best time to move. When everyone is likely to be asleep.'

'That makes sense.' I said. 'So we have just under two hours to wait.'

'Yes. And Mary, I cannot stress how important it is that we don't make a sound. If we were to be caught….' Sam's voice trailed off.

I nodded, aware of how serious the situation was.

'So now, all we have to do is wait. And hope that Colin sticks to his word.'

--------------------------------

The time passed slowly, as it always does when you are looking forward to something. Sam and I sat in semi-darkness, near the window, our faces illuminated by the light of a single candle. We listened to the noises of the house. The sound of the servants scurrying about downstairs, of Mr and Mrs Sullivan retiring to their rooms. The creaking of bedsprings, the drip of taps, the empty sound of the night outside our window.

My heart was beating fast and hard. I felt tensed with anticipation at the thought of what we were about to do. Sam was obviously feeling apprehensive, and every few minutes would get up to check her packing and had begun to wring her hands as she sat in her chair by the window, which I had come to know as a sign of nervousness.

Finally, the clock in the hallway dimly resounded midnight.

'It is time.' I whispered, easing myself up out of the chair.

'Yes,' she replied, looking as though she was about to faint. Unsteadily she got to her feet. Her face seemed paler than usual and I wondered if she really would go through with our plan.

'Are you sure you want to do this?' I asked.

'I'm sure.' she nodded affirmatively, making her way over to the door where her carpet bag sat.

'Then let's go.' I said quietly, and pushed open the door.

----------------------

Colin was waiting for us when we finally made our way outside. His pale face made even paler by the light of the full moon. I shivered slightly in the crisp night air, but felt more alive than I had in weeks. I looked over at Sam. She was buttoning up her coat and looking apprehensive. I went over to Colin, who was standing away from the road.

'Will the carriage be here soon?'

He nodded. 'It should be. I arranged for it to arrive just after midnight.'

If he was nervous, I couldn't tell. He spoke confidently enough. I was sure he was holding something back from me though, but guessed I would find out what it was soon enough.

'Come, let’s walk a little further down the street.' whispered Sam, coming up to us. 'We may well get spotted here.'

The three of us walked a little distance away, none of us saying anything to the other. I could feel the excitement of the night's events coursing through my veins, and for the first time in weeks I felt really, truly alive – and awake.

Until now, the plan had seemed just that – a plan. Something that didn't seem to have a firm base in reality. Now that it was really happening I could hardly believe it, but excitement grew inside me at the thought that this time tomorrow night, I would be home.

I wondered how Dickon would react upon seeing me. It had been so long, it seemed, since I had left. I pondered on this and came to the conclusion that it wasn't the length of time that I had been away, but the fact that so much had happened within that time.

I couldn't wait to leave it all behind and push the encounter with William further away from my conscious thoughts. My only thought of him now was that I wanted him to pay for what he had done to me. Numerous ideas had crossed my mind since that fateful night, but I knew that once I was home I would be able to devise the right kind of punishment for him. Oh yes, I thought to myself. He will suffer for what he has done.

We stopped further down the street and stood, silently, in the cool night air. Every single noise seemed enhanced in the stillness of the night, and I impatiently wondered where the cab was. I wish it would hurry, I thought to myself, sneaking furtive glances back up at the red brick facade of the Sutherland's large house. Were Colin and Sam growing as nervous as I? If they were, they didn't show it.

At last, the steady sound of hoof beats told us that it had come.

'Quick,' muttered Colin, as the cab pulled up beside us. We opened the door and got inside the dimly lit interior, while Colin spoke to the driver. Then he swung himself up and joined us inside.

The inside of the cab smelt damp, the leather seats ripped and torn in places. But I didn't care about any of that; I was on my way home. I looked up and saw Sam smiling nervously at me from across the seats. 'It's finally happening, Mary.' she said softly. She then turned to Colin who was seated at her left. 'Colin Craven, you're a genius!'

My cousin turned a darker shade of pink. 'It was nothing, really. All I did was organize the cab.'

'I think what Sam's trying to say is that we couldn't have done it without your help, Cousin.' I said warmly, feeling the animosity I had felt for him over the last month slowly slipping away.

'Don't go giving him a big head, Mary!' Sam said playfully, and we all laughed.

I looked at Colin, at his face breaking into a grin, and for the first time in so long, saw the young boy he had once been, who had been healed by the secret garden. Perhaps things would work out, after all. For all of us.

My Secret, Chapter 15

Chapter 15:
Trying to hold on

It all seemed so absurd now, so very absurd. I was in tears again, and I knew I would have to face them all sooner or later. I couldn't hide away in here forever. With trembling hands I picked up a pen, pausing only to wet the nib with ink.

Dear Dickon, I wrote.

I have something I need to tell you, and I'm afraid it cannot wait until I come home. I need to tell someone now, otherwise I feel as though I'll go insane. More than anything I wish you were here now. I feel so lost and alone and -

I shivered as a memory flashed through my mind. It was earlier in the evening and I was standing in the bedroom, and he was coming towards me... his large frame looming closer through the darkness.

- and scared. I feel scared, Dickon, and I can't remember when I last felt this afraid. I have to get out of here, I have to go!
It all started out as expected. Remember that party I had told you about? the birthday party for Samantha and I? well it all began as one would expect – the socialising, the speeches, being introduced to numerous people ... I hadn't expected anything like this to happen. Oh Dickon, where do I begin?

Downstairs, through the doorway I could hear the sounds of music and merriment, of people talking and laughing. I didn't feel as though I would ever laugh again. I couldn't stop shaking, my happiness feeling as though it had dissippated into the blackness of the night outside. I picked up the pen and began to write.

---------------------------

Five hours hence...

“Girls, you'll be expected downstairs very shortly.”

Mrs Sutherland's voice rose up the stairs to meet us. Sam and I were in our bedroom, giggling over the thought of the party that was soon to commence, making the final adjustments to our appearance.

“Mary, I simply know I look frightful!” Sam said, turning from the large mirror that adorned our dressing table. She had a hairpin between her teeth and her brow was furrowed. “Look at this dress!” she pulled up the fabric and frowned. “Lilac just isn't my colour at all!”

I looked down at my own dress (in a self-conscious imitation of Sam, I had no doubt), purchased a few days before. A shade of pale peach, with short sleeves and a tiny waist - which was achieved only by the severest tight lacing. It really was a beautiful dress, complete with bead work on the bodice and flowing skirts. The dressmaker of course, had explained that the lack of breath from the tight lacing was a sacrifice the wearer of the dress had no choice but to make. I was not used to having my movements so constricted, and longed for the night to end so that I could loosen my corset and take a deep breath.

“I hear you Sam, but there really isn't anything we can do about it now. Besides, I think the colour suits you. I don't know why you worry so much.”

“I worry because I know that I look an absolute fright! and everyone is going to be here tonight, staring and pointing. Don't you realise we're going to be the centre of attention and everyone is going to want to talk to us? oh, I wish I'd been able to convince Mother to buy me the red dress instead.”

The red dress she was speaking of was one Mrs Sutherland had promptly turned her nose up at, deeming it 'not suitable' for young ladies – which no doubt had something to do with the plunging neckline of the gown.

I reached up and gently took the hairpin out of her mouth, pinning it up in her hair, and soothing back a loose tendril. She smiled nervously at me and I took her hands in mine.

“There is nothing to worry about.” I said, gripping her hands tightly and looking directly into her dark eyes. “You look beautiful, Sam. And if I hear any more complaints I'm going to refuse to come downstairs and you'll have to face the whole party yourself.”

She giggled, seeming for the while, to relax a little.

“Why don't we just go downstairs and get the whole thing over with?” I said, taking a moment to look at her earnestly, although my voice was not without humour. I for one was looking forward to the end of the party, and being able to steal a few minutes away at the end of the night to pen some more lines to Dickon.

“Well... as long as you promise not to leave me alone with Grandmother's bridge friends. They are such a bore!”

I smiled inwardly, thinking of Sam surrounded by old ladies with disapproving looks in their eyes. Thank god she wasn't allowed to get that red dress, I thought, although I would have loved to see the reaction it would undoubtedly have provoked.

“I'm sure that can be arranged. Come on, let's go downstairs together and dazzle them with our youth and brilliance!” I took her hand and lead her towards the door. “They won't know what's hit them!”

She seemed to relax and allowed me to lead her from the bedroom. I gripped her hand tightly in mine, feeling the warmth of her skin steal through the satin gloves she wore. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had got through the entire day without once having to look at her scars.

----------------------------


We were greeted to the sight of the house magically transformed. I gasped as we walked downstairs. It was like walking into a magical fairyland. All through the large hallway, lamps were lit, casting a soft glow over the paintings and sculptures that adorned the Sutherland's hallway. Fresh flowers had been placed strategically in vases, their scent filling the air with perfume. We reached the sitting room to find it full of people – most of whom I had never met. We were greeted by a smile from William, who was standing with a group of young men, and an admiring Colin who seemed hooked on William's every word, bursting with rambancious laughter whenever William made a witty comment.

'Well, don't the two of you look lovely', he said. 'I hardly recognised you, little sister. And Miss Lennox, you look lovelier than ever.' He reached down and took my hand and kissed it.

'Perhaps later in the evening you will allow me to escort you in a dance?' I blushed furiously, unused to the attention. I looked up at Sam for advice, but she was busy talking to one of William's friends, laughing, and seemingly for the moment over her previous self consciousness.

'I don't see why I can't.' I said eventually. 'Assuming you know how to dance, of course.'

I paused, feeling a little silly. Of course William would know how to dance. I swallowed and looked up at him. 'you may have to teach me. I don't have much experience with dancing... we ah... didn't do much of that at Misselthwaite.'

'I can assure you it would be my pleasure to teach you.' he said, softly, holding my gaze in his until I tore my eyes away.

The music had started up again, led by the small orchestra in the corner of the room. We had been at the party for almost two hours, and within that time had been introduced to numerous friends of the Sutherland's, and had partaken in cutting our birthday cake – a large extravagant thing, decorated with white icing and flowers. Mrs Sutherland had organised a photographer to be present, and he asked us to pause with our hands on the knife while he took our photo. We stood together, smiling, while our smiles were captured in time. The flash of the camera went off, illuminating our faces and everyone clapped. There was a particularly enthusiastic display from William and his friends, who were standing towards the back of the room.

Now everyone was pairing off and beginning to dance, and as I stood speaking to Sam and some of Mrs Sutherland's friends, I noticed William beginning to make his way over towards us. He seemed to be a little unsteady on his feet, and his smile was wide, spreading over his face as he saw me.

'The lovely Miss Lennox!', he said bowing. 'May I have the pleasure of a dance?'

I giggled slightly to see him bowing in front of me. 'I'm afraid you will have to show me the steps. I do not know how to dance.'

'Certainly – it would be my pleasure.' he held out his arm and looked at me expectantly. I took it, and together we walked towards the dance floor.

When we reached the crowd of people, moving in time to the music, he took my hands in his.
'Now, you put one hand on my waist like this, and the other on my shoulder. Now simply follow me in time to the music.'

'You make it sound so easy.' I commented, smiling.

'That's because it is easy.' he replied, placing one hand on the small of my back. With the other firmly on my shoulder, he pulled me closer towards him and we began to move to the music.
I felt rather odd at being pulled towards him – I had not been this close to a man since Dickon, and I felt a little self conscious. I could feel his hand firmly on my back, and for the first time wondered about his motives when he had asked me to dance. However, it was only a fleeting thought and I was sure he viewed me as nothing more than a friend of the family – and thought of me in the same way I thought of him. Besides, we had rarely ever had a chance to speak before, and of all the Sutherlands I felt as though I knew him the least. I was pleased he was teaching me how to dance, but at the same time I was looking forward to the dance ending and getting back to Sam. I glanced over to where she was standing and she waved at me, smiling. I smiled back at her, then she turned back to the conversation. I heard one of Mrs Sutherland's friends laughing. Sam must have said something funny, I thought, knowing her and her sarcastic sense of humour. I had no doubt that she was as uncomfortable with the entire event as I was.

'You dance beautifully... Mary.' he said, leaning down to whisper into my ear. 'I find it hard to believe that you didn't know how.'

I couldn't think of a proper response, and something about his tone made me blush.

'Thank you', I mumbled in response, not knowing what else to say. He continued to whirl me around the room. Around us, brightly clothed women were moving, their hair and dress glittering like diamonds. He whirled me around so fast that I almost shrieked. Breaking away, I stopped to catch my breath and then began to laugh.

'I didn't know dancing could be this exhausting!' I exclaimed.

'Come on!' he replied, teasingly. 'Surely you can't be tired yet? we've only been dancing for five minutes!'

He pulled me back into his arms, spinning me towards the centre of the ballroom floor.

'It is so loud in here...' he said, trailing off, looking over my shoulder. We had neared the orchestra and I could barely hear him as he said 'perhaps we should go somewhere... quieter... just the two of us.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch what you said.' I answered loudly, feeling suddenly nervous at the thought of being alone with him. All of a sudden I wanted nothing more than to head back to Sam, who was still waiting for me with Mrs Sutherland's friends.

He leaned over and spoke into my ear, and I smelt the alcohol on his breath. 'I said, perhaps we should go somewhere where we can be... alone.'

'I...But Sam is waiting for me. I promised her I wouldn't leave her alone for too long.'

I felt him stiffen in my arms, but all he said was 'of course, it wouldn't do to take you away from your party now, would it?'

We danced on in silence, until the song had finished, and I used the opportunity to break away from him.

'Thank you for teaching me how to dance.' I said, giving him what I hoped to be a dazzling smile. 'but I really must return to Sam now.'

'I cannot tempt you to join me for another?'

'No, but thank you all the same.'

He shrugged. 'As you wish'.

He offered his arm to me and I placed my own through it, and he led me away from the dance floor, back to the raucous group of women that Sam had been entertaining.

'Thank you for the dance, it was a pleasure', he said, and then departed without saying another word.

'Ah Mary! thank god', Sam whispered loudly, slipping my arm into hers.

I glanced back towards William, once more, and saw him now standing silently with his friends, a whiskey tumbler in his hand. He quickly downed the amber liquid with a grimace and then stood, eyeing me silently. I felt uneasy and quickly turned away, wondering why I suddenly felt as though I had done something to upset him.

--------------------------------

“I'll be right back, Sam,” I whispered to her.

“I'll hold you to your word.” she murmured to me, before turning back to her Grandmother's friends.

I made my way quickly out of the room, needing to be alone. All night I had been conversing and making small talk with various friends of the Sutherlands. I felt exhausted, and in need of a few quiet moments to myself.

The stairway was empty, and I headed slowly upstairs to our bedroom, pausing every so often to catch my breath, cursing at the tight lacing of my gown. Not only did it make breathing difficult, but it made it virtually impossible to move anywhere with great haste. I sighed with anticipation at the thought of removing it, wondering if my ribs would ever sufficiently recover.
What would you make of all this, Dickon? I wondered as I entered our bedroom. All the guests, all the society beauties and the flowers and crystal goblets? I sighed, knowing where I would rather be. Safe with Dickon on the Moor, with the only fragrance being that of the heather in bloom.

It was dark inside, save for the dim light of a candle that we had lit earlier. I made my way over to the dresser and reached inside for the handful of letters that Dickon had sent to me. Reaching down into the bottom of the drawer I was surprised to realise that they were not there. Frowning I searched again with my hand, feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I froze as I heard the sound of a low chuckle coming from behind me. I scarcely dared to move, but forced myself to turn around, hoping that I'd just imagined it. My blood ran cold with terror when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw William, standing in the darkness, his form outlined by the weak candlelight.

'Looking for something?' he slurred. Still shocked I glanced down and saw that he was holding my treasured letters from Dickon in his outstretched hand, with a malicious grin spread across his features.

'What are you doing here?' I whispered, moving further back into my seat, all of my instincts telling me to run.

'I got bored with your party.' he snapped. 'and came up here to see what the two of you have been up to. Little did I realise what an interesting discovery I would make.'

'How dare you!' I said softly. 'You've been looking through my things. Those letters are private.'

'So I see,' he chuckled, holding out one of the letters. He cleared his throat: 'My dear Mary, I ache to see you, to hold you in my arms. Every day without you feels like an eternity....' lord, this reads just like those romance novels my dear sisters are always burying their heads in.' He laughed 'and to top it all off, it is from none other than the garden boy himself, the infamous Dickon! oh wouldn't my parents love to know who you've been corresponding with – and being quite intimate with, by the sounds of it.'

I froze as he made his way towards me. 'You've got no right to be here.' I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. I began to tremble, with both anger and fear. 'Those letters are private and are none of your business.'

'Oh I think you're mistaken.' he replied silkily, 'I know your secret, and I'm sure you wouldn't want it to end up in the wrong hands...' he shook his head in a parody of sympathy. 'Dear me, I'd hate to think what your uncle would have to say about this. I'm sure he couldn't imagine his innocent young niece capable of such improper behaviour.'

'Get out.' I said, my voice shaking. 'Get out right now!'

'You know, I don't think that I will.' He slurred. 'I think you and I have some unfinished business to attend to.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.' I said, and got up off the seat and straightened up, my heart pounding. 'Get out of this room or I'll -'

'Or you'll what?' he smirked, edging closer to me. 'Call my parents, my sister? what do you think they will think of you when they discover you in such a compromising position? especially after I tell them that it was you who seduced me and begged me to come up here with you.'

'They'd never believe that!' I almost shouted at him, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. 'I'm sure they're all aware of what a cad you are!'

'But I've no doubt they would believe my word over yours... especially when they discover the nature of your relationship with that gardening boy.' he spat, anger contorting his features into ugliness. 'and to think, all that time I thought you wanted me – when it was him you were thinking about, pining away after. You come into our family and lead me on – flirt with me all night long at the party, and then I discover that you already have a little paramour.' He strode quickly over to me and I backed away, feeling more frightened than I ever had in my life. I made towards the doorway, but he grabbed hold of my arm, roughly pulling me towards him.

'Now, now, my lovely. That will never do.' I struggled to break free of his grip, but felt him pull me tighter towards him, pressing me up against his body. He was tall, much taller than I was, and strong. 'I think I might need to teach you a lesson – although you are no doubt already well educated in the subject.' I cried out and struggled more fiercely as he reached his head down to kiss me. He brutally and forcefully pulled me into an embrace, the smell of alcohol strong and overpowering. I gasped when he finally broke free, and catching him unawares, slapped him hard across the face.

'You little bitch,' he spat, his features contorting with anger. 'you'll pay for that.'

We struggled together, he grasped my wrists painfully, caught me off balance, and threw me down on the bed. I struggled valiantly against him, but he was too strong. He pinned me down beneath him, leaving me struggling to breathe. Tears streaked down my face, as I gulped back sobs. My pleas for him to release me went unheard as he pushed my dress up and thrust himself between me.

'I think it's time for you to learn what happens when you play with fire.' he whispered cruelly.

-------------------------------


'Mary, Mary? are you in there? is everything alright?'

I heard the door slowly creak open, and a few seconds later Sam's anxious face appeared.

'There you are. I knew you wanted to be alone for a while, but you've been gone an awfully long time and I've been wondering where you were. What have you - ' Her voice cut off sharply as she came closer and noticed me sprawled out on the bed. Taking in my tear-stained face, tussled hair and clothing she quickly came over and took my hand. 'Mary! what happened? oh Mary, what's wrong?'

The sobs within my throat rose up, which made replying impossible. Instead I reached over and pulled her towards me, my despair washing over me in waves.

'He, He...'

'Who did this to you, Mary?' Sam said softly.

'I... I can't talk about it.' I finished. 'Just please go down and make my excuses to everyone ... please Sam...'

'I don't want to leave you!' she said, 'look at you! something awful has happened... oh Mary, please tell me what it is.'

'I can't Sam', I cried, 'Just go please.'

She finally left, after promising that she would come back as soon as she could. As soon as she left I got up, wincing from the pain that seemed to come from deep inside me, and locked the door, pure fear sweeping over me at the thought of him returning. I walked over to the mirror, still feeling as though this was just a nightmare that I would wake up from. I would open my eyes and it would be morning, and I would be in my bedroom at Misselthwaite, and all of this would just be a bad dream. It had to be, what just happened couldn't have happened. In shock I looked into the mirror at the tear-stained face of the stranger staring back at me. My hair, which had been so neatly pinned and decorated was dishevelled, and my gown was slightly torn in places and some of the beadwork had become loose. I sat down at the dressing table, and without thinking about it, picked up a fresh sheet of paper and pen, and began writing to the one person I knew I could trust, pausing only to wipe away rogue tears.

-----------------------------------

'Miss Lennox is indisposed.' I heard Sam say to Charlotte, as she stood in the doorway. 'I will help her to undress tonight.'

Her voice came to me like the whisper of someone across the distance of a vast ocean. I was laying in bed, still fully dressed, my mind receding. I felt as though I was sinking further and further down, into a darkness that was all encompassing.

Soft hands found me and stroked my feverish forehead. 'Shhhhh...' Sam whispered, slowly pulling me up and coming behind me to unbutton my gown. I felt her eyes taking in the rips and tears, but she said nothing. She pushed my gown down and set about loosening the strings of my corset. 'Does that feel better?' she asked softly. I couldn't answer but nodded a reply, holding my hands stiffly at my side. I felt incapable of moving, and patiently, Sam held up my nightgown, and gently slipped it over my head. I poked my arms through, automated motions that seemed to have very little direction from me. Quietly, she lead me towards the bed we now shared and got in beside me, reaching out her arm and pulling me towards her. At that point I gave in and sobbed. I cried for Dickon, for my home, and for my loss of innocence, knowing that things could never be the same ever again.

My Secret, Chapter 14

Chapter 14:
When the rain comes...

‘I knew that I’d find you here.’

Summer had come to the garden, and it lay before me, bright and green – and alive. The leaves of the plants glistened with early morning dew, which shone like pearls and sparkled brighter than diamonds. The breeze that swirled around me was warm, with the promise of a long, languid day stretching ahead.

The young man who stood facing me, with his arms resting on his spade, laughed.

‘Aye! tha’ knows I canna stay awa’ for too long!’

I moved closer towards him, eyeing him coyly, the warm wind gently blowing the skirts of my summer dress around my bare legs.

‘Away from the garden, Dickon?’

‘Nay, tis’ not the garden that keeps me here, Miss Mary.’

We came together then, and he clasped me in his arms, before leaning down to kiss me fully and passionately. I tasted the moor in his kiss, the wild sweet taste in the roughness of him. It left me breathless.

When we finally broke apart I spoke, my voice full of emotion. ‘I’ve missed you so much, Dickon’.

His eyes were a vivid blue, the same colour as the sky on a cloudless day in the heat of midsummer. They sparkled with life and happiness, mesmerizing me, pulling me in. ‘We will live forever’, his eyes were saying to me. I smiled through the tears that I now felt, coursing down my cheeks.

He drew me tightly against him, into his warm chest. I could smell freshly dug dirt and perspiration. I felt him stroking my back and my hair, and I leaned into him, relaxing completely, breathing in the warm scent of him. He felt like part of the earth – full of goodness like the freshly dug dirt and warm sunlight. Like a child of the soil.

‘I missed you Lass.’ he was murmering to me. ‘Sometimes I didn’t know how I would stand it, I missed you so much. And here you are now……. I can scarcely believe it.’

‘I’m just so glad to be home, Dickon. So glad.’

The air was thick with the scent of Jasmine and Roses, and he lead me over to the cool shade of the large apple tree. We sat down under the tree, together on the lush green grass. I reached for him once I sat down, and he leant over me, entwining his arms around me, softly kissing me. I leaned back on the lush carpet of grass and sighed in ecstasy. ‘Oh Dickon, please don’t stop.’

But something was wrong.

The quality of the light had dimmed, I could feel it, even through my closed eyes. Its going to rain, I thought. The rain will come. I stopped kissing Dickon and sat up. He must have sensed my anxiety because he also sat up, and looked out from underneath the leafy branches that gave us shelter.

Outside, the sky had darkened, and the brilliant blue was now being replaced by clouds of a dull, dark gray. I felt a shiver run down my spine, and a sudden ominous feeling. The sound of thunder clapped high over head, and then the sound of rain beginning to fall on freshly dug earth.

‘Some say there are spirits that bring th’ rain.’ Dickon was saying. He sounded distant and far away, and I noticed him staring at something in the corner of the garden.

Amid the torrent of rain and wind, stood a pale dark haired girl. The rain had plastered her long black hair and her dress to her body, but she stood motionless, then turned her expressionless face towards us and reached out her arms. I felt an icy chill of terror run through my body and my heart thumped loudly in my chest.

‘I must go t’ her.’ Dickon said, ‘she needs me.’

I grabbed his arm. ‘No Dickon! don’t go, please don’t go!’

‘But I must.’ he replied simply. ‘For she is calling to me.’

I was seized by a sudden urge to run, to get as far away as I could. The wraith that stood amidst the garden, white and pale against the backdrop of the sky, was reaching out her arms towards Dickon, as though she was drawing him in. In horror I saw that one of her wrists dripped with scarlet blood. Out of her open mouth came a toneless sound. Dickon got up and started towards her through the pouring rain, like a man in a dream.

‘No Dickon!!’ I screamed. ‘Come back! please don’t go!’

-------------------------

‘Mary, wake up, you’re screaming!’

Sam’s concerned voice broke into my muddled and frightened thoughts. I felt the heavy weight of blankets covering me, and the warmth of Sam’s body next to mine. My head was resting on the same feather pillow it had been on for the last two weeks. I wasn’t at Misselthwaite, I realized dismally. None of that just happened. I was still in London, and I was lying in bed next to Samantha Sutherland. I felt despair and anxiety wash over me.

‘You must have had a nightmare, you were screaming and calling out.’ she said. ‘But you’re safe now, Mary.’

I shivered in remembrance of the horrid dream that had seemed so real. I felt myself shaking with fear, still unable to speak. I could only picture Dickon in my mind, and the vision of him heading towards the pale girl, whose face was awash with tragedy. I felt so confused, and near tears.

‘I……I ….’ I began, ‘Oh Sam, I just had the most terrible nightmare.’ and then I burst into tears.
She reached out her arms for me, and drew me close to her, holding me while I cried and shook with a lingering fear. The warmth and darkness of the bed comforted me somewhat, and after a time I stopped crying, although I still shook. Our room was dark, but I could see the faint edges of daybreak begin to lighten the curtains that covered the large bay windows. It wouldn’t be long now before the sun rose, I knew. I lay in Sam’s arms and thought about the coming day, feeling myself sinking further and further into depression. Today was the day of my sixteenth birthday, and it was the first birthday I had spent away from home in six years.

The dream had been so real and vivid, and it had felt as though Dickon and I were together again. I shuddered again thinking about the strange girl with dark hair, and how she had called Dickon to her. I could still see her in my mind’s eye – drenched with rain, her dark hair hanging long and lank against her face, her white dress plastered to her body, and her arms outstretched and bloody, calling Dickon towards her.

Presently Sam fell back asleep, but I lay awake beside her, thinking about the dream. It had all felt so real. I got up and pulled the curtains, to see what the day was like outside. It was cold and grey outside the window, endless streets drenched in rain, row upon row of red brick buildings. The occasional carriage making its way slowly down the muddy road. The sky was iron gray in the dawn, and it was raining softly. I walked over to the dresser, and feeling the need to feel Dickon close to me, retrieved his latest letter.

‘I wish I could be there to help you celebrate your birthday’, he had written ‘but I know we’ll celebrate it together when you return.’

When I return……. it all seemed so far away now. I went back to the window and stared down the misty gray streets. It would soon be time to rise. Charlotte would come in to help us get dressed and there would be a whole day to live through – not to mention the birthday party to be held later that evening. Everything seemed so pointless and hollow, and more than anything, I longed to be back at Misselthwaite, and back in Dickon’s arms.

I looked over towards the bed that I shared with Sam and noticed her sprawled out languidly in the middle of the large bed. Her arms were raised above her slightly, and her dark lashes were closed. Her dark hair framed her face as she slept. I noticed that her nightgown was slipping down one of her arms, revealing the pale white flesh of her arms – and something more.

I crept closer to the bed, wondering if I had really seen what I thought I had. Slowly I moved towards Sam, quietly, as to not wake her. I carefully moved so I could see her arm, and gasped at what I saw.

For down her left arm, was the ugly scar of a strong, diagonal cut.

Her eyes fluttered open.

'Ah Mary, ' she said, her voice thick with sleep. 'Is it time to get up already?' She yawned and pulled her arms down under the blankets. 'I can't remember it being this cold for a long time. Why did you get out of bed?'

'Ah... I just woke up, that's all. I wanted to see what the day was like outside.'

'You should come back to bed.' She scolded. 'You'll catch a chill standing there in your nightdress.'

I felt so confused. Had I really seen what I thought I had? why would Sam have such a large scar down her wrist? I struggled to think of an accident which could have caused it. I couldn't remember her mentioning anything to me about it. I made up my mind to ask her about it when the moment presented itself.

'It's the day of our party, Mary.' She said softly. 'I hope you're in the mood to socialise.'

I didn't reply, but lay down in bed, with the covers pulled tightly around me, listening to the rain falling outside, the strange girl in my dream still haunting my mind, along with the unanswered question of Sam's scar...

My Secret, Chapter 13

Chapter 13:
A letter from home and Sam's revelation

'What are you writing, Mary?'

I turned around from the letter I was penning to Dickon, and saw William, staring at me from across the room.

'Oh... nothing important... just a letter to my Uncle.'

I hastily covered the letter with a book that was lying nearby and turned around to give William an innocuous smile. He smiled back at me, then said:

'Well, surely it's nothing to be embarrassed about! but I don't recall Colin writing so many letters to Lord Craven when he arrived here – and he is his son!'

'Er...I just wanted him to know how I've been settling in... and the preparations for the party this weekend.'

Sam nudged me and gave me a small smile. She was sitting next to me, engaged in embroidery. I still didn't know where she got the patience to pursue something so tedious and time-consuming.

'Ah yes, the party!' William exclaimed, coming over to sit next to us. 'We haven't had a good gathering here in a long time, have we Sam?'

'Not since the last time you invited your University friends over.' Sam said drily.

'And Mary, Mother was not impressed!' laughed Pat, who had also come over to join us.

'Although,' laughed William 'I think your party is going to be a more sedate affair... hmm... lets see... Mother's old cronies will be attending, Grandmother's bridge friends, no doubt...I don't suppose there will be anyone your own age coming along?'

'What do you think, big brother?' asked Sam, raising an eyebrow and looking up from her embroidery.

'The possibility of that happening? I'd say “slim to none”.

'Exactly.'

'Which is why I've taken it upon myself to invite a couple of ... friends over, to participate in the festivities.'

Pat groaned. 'Will – remember what happened last time?'

'Have you asked Mother?' Sam added. 'I can't imagine she'd be too keen on you bringing your friends into the house again.'

'My dear sisters, have some faith in your older brother! the young men who will be attending will be only the most respectable indeed. Besides, it would be a sad state of affairs if there were to be no eligible bachaelors attending to admire my little sister at her coming out party? not to mention the beautiful Miss Lennox?'

'Fine.' said Sam, shrugging. 'But just remember, it was your idea. And don't go trying to pin anything on us if things go haywire and Mother disapproves.'

'You worry too much, little sister. What could possibly go wrong?'

'Well, for one thing - '

'Ah William! there you are!' Colin came rushing into the room, his cheeks rosy. 'I've been looking for you everywhere.'

'I've just been entertaining your lovely cousin, Colin. Although I think I may have interrupted her letter writing.'

Colin turned to look at me quizzically.

'You... writing letters, Mary! you barely wrote me a page when I was away from Misselthwaite all that time.'

'She's writing to your Father.' William explained.

'To Father?' Colin queried.

'Yes Colin – and really, I don't see why it should come as such a surprise. Unlike you, he actually writes back to me!' I added quickly.

'Hmmph. Well, it will give him something to do with his time, I suppose. Come on William, I need you upstairs. I need your advice on one of my assignments.'

I breathed a sigh of relief as the two of them exited the room. The last thing I needed was Colin discovering the nature of my letter writing... I hadn't thought much about what Colin would think about Dickon and I, but I knew he wouldn't look upon the match with favour. It wasn't that Colin didn't like and respect Dickon, but he had very clear ideas about class boundaries and I knew he had always considered Dickon as someone not quite in our league.

'Thank god they're gone.' said Sam, turning from her embroidery to look at me.' I can only take so much of those two when they're together.'

Pat laughed. 'You've read my mind exactly. So tell me, how are your lessons going with Miss Godfrey?'

I laughed, thinking of Miss Godfrey and her disapproving looks towards Sam and I as we whispered together when her back was turned.

'Oh you know, the same as usual. Really Pat, I simply cannot wait until I am your age and am finished with schooling forever.'

'Although then Mother will be eyeing up prospective husbands for you, Sam, which is even more tedious, believe me.'

'You know,' I said 'This makes me almost glad that I don't have a Mother. I couldn't stand the thought of someone organising a match for me. Marrying me off to some old man I couldn't stand!'

'My thoughts exactly.' Sam murmered. 'You should see some of the prospective 'husbands' she invites around for Pat. Talk about a boring lot!'

'Although William's friends are hardly what I'd consider eligible, either.' Pat said, frowning. 'Honestly, how does one find a good husband these days? I fear we are all doomed to a life of spinsterhood, girls.'

'Not all of us, Patricia.' Sam said slyly, giving me a nudge.

I turned sharply to look at Sam, but she was still impassively engaged in her embroidery. She wouldn't mention anything, would she? not after she had promised. I felt a sudden flare of anger and worse, fear.

Pat turned around to look inquisitively at her sister.

'And just who would you be referring to, Samantha?'

'Oh, no one.' Sam said vaguely, returning to her embroidery. 'Forget I said anything.'

She turned to look at me, once her sister had left the room, her green eyes shining darkly.
'And don't worry Mary, your secret is safe with me.'

--------------------------

Dear Mary, The letter said.

Firstly, many happy returns for your sixteenth birthday! please find enclosed a little gift from us all. We hope that the Sutherlands give you a sixteenth birthday to remember. Dickon tells me that Mrs Sutherland is organising a huge party in your honour. Oh Mary, how exciting! we wish you all the best for your big day.

We are all missing you here at home, and are hoping that things are going as well as can be expected with the Sutherland family. Lord Craven is well, and in good health, although I hear that he misses your company. The rest of the staff are doing well at Misselthwaite, and we're all doing well here. The wee ones are keeping me company, and Mother has come to visit, as has Dickon. We can hardly wait to see you again when you return at Christmas.
Dickon has asked me to enclose a personal letter of his within this one, so I hope you find it intact. He asks his forgiveness for any spelling mistakes he might have made, poor lad!
Take care, and give our love to Colin,

Love as always, Martha.

I opened the envelope further and found a little piece of paper under Martha's letter. My heart beat in excitement to see that it was covered in Dickon's scrawly, messy, writing.

My lovely Mary,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are being looked after by the Sutherland family. Thank you for your letter. It sounds as though you are finding your feet there and settling in well. I'm glad to hear that Colin is in good spirits and that his studies are going well.
I cannot tell you how much I wish I could help you celebrate your birthday. Just remmamber, although I am not there in person, I will be with you in spirit and thinking of you.

As I read further, my heart began to ache. I longed to hear his voice, to see him smile. I struggled to control the feelings I felt within me.

Things are going well here at Misselthwaite, well as can be expected given it's the beginning of winter. Ben has me hard at work in the garden each day, clearing away the old growth, pruning the trees and the rest of it. He keeps telling me that this winter he is going to make a man out of me! However, I've managed to spend a little time in our garden – mainly pruning the roses and doing the odd bit of weeding. I like this time of year, and remember what you always said about the garden going to sleep, only to wake to the coming of the spring when it emerges green and fresh and full of life. The only thing that would make life complete would be having you here. I miss you greatly, and cannot wait to see you when you return at Christmas. I will be counting down the days till then.

With much love, Dickon.

I brought his letter to my lips and kissed it lightly, closing my eyes. 'Dickon, I do love you so.' I whispered to myself, before folding it up tidily, and placing it in the bottom of my suitcase. 'I will be home soon, home to you, I promise.'

-----------------------------

'Charlotte, you're pulling my hair!' Sam exclaimed, as she sat in front of the mirror, clad in her nightdress. She was frowning into the mirror on her dressing table, watching as Charlotte brushed her long, dark, tresses.

'I'm sorry Miss, I'm trying to be careful.' Charlotte stammered, flushing deeply.

'Oh, never mind. I'll finish it myself. You may go now, Charlotte.'

Once Charlotte had left, Sam turned to look at me, her green eyes blazing with anger.

'I swear, if that girl pulls my hair like that one more time...'

I inwardly rolled my eyes. This was the fourth night in a row that Sam had complained about Charlotte's hairdressing skills, and I was growing a little weary of it.

'Here, let me finish your hair.' I offered, resisting the urge to sigh in exasperation. Sam could be quite tempermental at times, I had noticed. At first when I had met her I had thought her sweet and naïve. Now I knew there was much more to her than first met the eye. Much more.

I began brushing her long, dark hair. Marvelling at it's glossy colour as I did so. Sam always kept it immaculately brushed and with her piercing green eyes, it only added to her exotic beauty. But she was obviously not feeling beautiful tonight, as she stared into the mirror and groaned in frustration.

'Look at my hair! it is dead straight and boring and black!' she moaned. 'Why can't I have wavy golden hair like you, Mary? no wonder I don't have a beau yet. No wonder Dickon couldn't resist you!'

'Sam, Dickon has known me since I was a child. I'm probably one of the only girls he's ever met.'

'Maybe so, but I wish I had a strong, handsome Moor boy to call my own. All the young men Mother knows are so terribly tiresome. There are only a few that take my interest, and I'm sure they're not interested in me in the slightest!'

'Don't be ridiculous, Sam.' I replied wearily. I was beginning to get cross with her. 'You are going to look so beautiful at our party, especially in your new dress. All those young men would be silly not to be falling all over you.'

She didn't reply, just stared into the mirror, with a dark expression.

I finished brushing her hair and then placed the brush down on the dressing table.

'I didn't pull it too hard?' I said softly, trying to bring her out of herself.

'Oh, no, not at all.' she said, the darkness lifting as she turned around to look at me and smile. Like a sleeper waking up from a troubling dream.

I was relieved to see that she had come back to being herself, and went over to get into bed. The gas lamps near the bed glowed softly, and made me feel sleepy. I could hear rain on the roof overhead, pounding in a soft, toneless drone.

I heard Sam walk over to her bed, pull back the covers, and then pause.

'Oh Mary, it's so awfully cold in here. I think I shall freeze! can I just jump into bed quickly with you?'

I had never shared a bed with anyone before, and was hesitant on letting Sam share mine with me. Yet, I did miss the contact of another person, and it was a cold night.

'Alright then. Just don't steal all of the eiderdown.' I replied, moving over to give her some room.

She walked across the room, stood next to the bed and turned down the light, and then got in beside me. I shivered as I felt her cold body next to mine, and heard her sigh as she found my warmth.

'This is so much better than getting into a cold bed.' She sighed. 'I've never shared a bed with anyone before.'

'In Dickon's family they always sleep two to three to a bed.' I said sleepily. 'They say it keeps everyone warm in winter.'

'They'd be right about that.' Sam yawned, pulling the blankets further up around her. 'Tell me more about Dickon, Mary.' she said. 'Tell me what its like to have a beau.'

I stared up into the blackness of the ceiling and thought to myself. Just what was it like? wonderful? yes. Heartbreaking? yes. I had never had to describe my feelings to anyone before, and I struggled to find the right words.

'It's just such a wonderful feeling. Better than you could ever imagine. Being with Dickon makes me feel so good, but not just good, better than that. Complete, whole. When we're together, I feel whole.'

'Like you weren't complete before?' Sam asked, with curiousity.

'Yes, like i had been living my life incomplete. And being with Dickon completes me. When he is happy and smiles I feel good and it makes me smile too. When I think of him out on the moor on cold nights, I feel cold and wish that - ' I stopped suddenly, feeling as though I had said too much.

'Wish that what, Mary?'

'That... That he was with me. That we were lying here like this, side by side. That I could make him warm again.'

'Do you wish that he was here now?'

'More than anything, Sam.' I whispered. 'More than anything in the world.'

'Mary,' Sam began. She hesitated. 'I've got something to tell you.'

She sounded so unsure, which wasn't like her at all.

'Go on then, what is it?' I asked gently.

'Its... well, when I told you I had never had a beau I wasn't being completely honest... '

'You've had a beau?' I said, astonished at her revelation.

'Yes. His name was Edward. He's a friend of my brothers. Anyway, we began as friends. Whenever he came over to see William we would sit and talk. We always got on so well, and then we found chances to be alone, and our friendship began to turn into something else. He really loved me, he said. He said that he wanted to marry me. That if our parents wouldn't agree that we could elope. You see, he was from a very wealthy background and knew that his parents would look down on the match. We talked about running away, of eloping to Gretna Green. I wanted him, more than anything. However, it didn't turn out that way in the end.'

'What happened?' I asked sympathetically.

'His parents arranged a marriage between him and a young society woman. His Father gave him an ultimatum – either marry her or he would be cut out of his Father's will. Everyone knew about us by that stage. I suppose his Father must have known how close we were to running away together. I guess in the end his love of money won out over his love for me.'

She had began shaking and I realised that she was crying. I felt afraid and unsure. I had never comforted anyone before and didn't really know what to do. I hesitantly drew her into my arms and gently stroked her back while she sobbed.

After a few minutes she stilled and said 'I still see him sometimes, you know. With his new wife. She is a beautiful thing. Skin as pale as milk and long blonde hair – much like yours, Mary. How could I ever compare to someone like that?'

'You are beautiful, Sam' I said, turning to look at her. 'He was obviously a fool to pick her over you. Even if she did have a huge inheritance.'

She must have smiled, because her tone lightened. 'You're the first person I've spoken to about this for such a long time.' she said. 'I'm sorry Mary, I just can't help but get jealous when I think of your love for Dickon and his love for you and then think of my own life and all that I've missed out on. Our party is coming up in a few days and I just know that Mother will try to arrange a match for me, and I can't think of anything worse! I just want to be free to choose for myself, as you are free! and then there will be Christmas... that season is just fill of boring parties and having to meet 'eligible' bachaelors. I wish there was somewhere I could escape to where I wouldn't have to deal with all of this.'

'There is.' I said, an idea suddenly dawning on me. 'You could come to Misselthaite for Christmas, with me. I don't see why that would be a problem. Your parents know Uncle Archie, after all. I don't see why they would mind you accompanying me.'

'Oh Mary! do you really think that would be alright? and I would love to meet your Dickon! and to see your secret garden – even though it would be mostly covered in snow at that time of year.'

'I'm sure Uncle would love to have some visitors. And Colin will be coming back for Christmas, of course. Perhaps he could even invite your brother, William to come along too?'

'Mary! you are so lovely to me!' she exclaimed, her voice full of emotion. She hugged me tight and kissed me on the forehead. 'I'll ask Mother about it as soon as I get a chance.'

She soon slept, her body warm next to mine. However, I stayed awake, lying on my back, staring up at the high ceiling. What are you doing tonight, Dickon? I wondered. Are you safe inside? are you roaming the moor, looking for lost animals? are you shivering and pulling your coat tighter around you? are you dreaming? and... are you... are you thinking of me?
The rain droned down on the roof above, lulling me to sleep. I dreamt of Misselthaite, of being back home. In my dream, I was wandering through the paths of the garden, recognising every upturned stone, every landmark. I was heading towards the Secret Garden, I was holding my key, and had it ready to slip into the lock. And in my dream, at the end of the garden path - next to a door covered in Ivy, stood a tall, strong youth, waiting for me.

My Secret, Chapter 12

Chapter 12:
Life outside the Garden

'Mary, do you miss your home?'

'All the time.'

'Are you sorry that you've come to live here?'

The voice was so genuine in it's concern that I inwardly cringed. Across the way from me, Sam's face was illuminated in candlelight. We were laying in our respective beds, talking as the night grew late.

How could I begin to tell her how much I ached to see home again. To wake up in my old bedroom at Misselthwaite, to the sound of the maids scurrying about, to the sound of the birds singing outside, or of the rain falling on the roof. To the sights and scents of the secret garden – and to feel Dickon's gentle caress. I wanted to tell her how I had been forced into coming here, that I had not wanted to come at all. That I wished I were at home, and that this would never be 'home' to me – that I had left someone behind – a young man that I cared about so much that at times it felt like I would explode. Yet how could I say all of this to Samantha?

Instead I replied:

'Yes, I do miss home, but its bearable because I know it won't be long until I return.'

'I wish I could see Misselthwaite...' Sam said dreamily, staring up at the ceiling as though looking up at the stars in a night sky. 'I long to see the countryside, and you just make it sound so lovely.'

'It's the most lovely, beautiful place in the world.' I said softly. 'We even have a secret garden there – did Colin tell you about it?'

'He might have mentioned something about it in passing, I can't really remember. But please tell me about it Mary. What do you mean by a secret garden?'

She had shifted position, and was now sitting propped up on her elbow. Her eyes, I noticed, gleamed in the firelight, and her wavy dark hair hung loose around her face, like a black veil in the darkness. I was still growing used to seeing her like this, a stark contrast from the immaculately presented girl whom I had been introduced to in the sitting room that evening. Her enthusiasm spurred me on, and I began to tell her about my arrival at Misselthwaite, and the events that had happened six long years ago.

'And the birds are always chirping high up in the trees,' I was saying, 'and there are robins, and blackbirds, and sparrows, and Ravens of course. Dickon even used to have a Raven called 'Soot' who would travel with him wherever he went – he would let us feed Soot or hold him on our arm, and he would walk up and down your arm as if he was the ruler of the bird kingdom, and could do exactly as he pleased.'

Samantha giggled 'I couldn't imagine a bird walking up and down my arm!' she said. 'Your Dickon must have quite a way with animals.'

'All the animals are his friends.' I replied passionately, feeling my stomach lurch at the mention of Dickon's name. Hearing Sam say his name made Dickon feel more real to me, not just a memory within my mind, and I struggled to feel the emotions rising up inside me. 'He knows how to treat them, and they trust him not to do them any harm. When I first met him, he spent most of his time on the moor, tending to sick animals and sometimes he would even sleep out in the open, just like them. And it's not just animals, either. He has a way with people, a way of making them feel as though they can trust him.'

I desperately wanted to say more. I wanted to tell her how it was between us – how Dickon made me feel, how much I missed him, and how I could hardly bear being apart from him. I tried to push my feelings down, but they kept rising to the surface. I saw Dickon in my mind's eye – a faraway speck on the moor. I saw him waving goodbye, a forlorn figure standing outside in the cold up against the bleak grey of the sky. How long would it be before we could be together again? I knew that Colin came home every Christmas, but Christmas was almost two months away! how would I survive until then? Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes despite my attempts to quell my feelings. I tried to wipe them away inconspicuously.

'Mary... are you crying?' said Sam, in concern.

'No... it's just these pillows – they're all dusty and they're making... they're making my eyes water!' I replied angrily, sniffing as I did so, and trying to swallow the frustration and pain that was welling up inside me.

'Mary, I know you must miss your home.' Sam said gently. 'You don't have to pretend to me.'

'I thought I would be able to bear this!' I sobbed. 'I promised him I would.'

'Promised who, Mary – your Uncle, uh, Lord Craven, I mean?'

I turned around to face her, my face streaked with tears. I had an overwhelming urge to tell her everything, to release my emotions. I felt so tired and drained. My reply was little more than a whisper, which was clouded in despair.

'No... not my Uncle. Dickon, Sam. I promised Dickon.'

'The boy who tames the animals?'

I nodded mutely, looking down – unable to meet her enquiring gaze.

'You...' she began, then realisation hit 'Oh Mary ... you're in love with him?'

---------------------------------

'Mary!' Mrs Sutherland announced, swiftly breezing into the room where Sam and I were being dressed. 'Mary, I need to ask you a question.'

'You may step outside for a minute, Charlotte,' she gestured to the maid who was lacing my corset. I felt the strings slacken as she let go and bobbed a curtsey, and the wonderful relief of being able to breathe again.

Without waiting for me to reply, she continued: 'I have it on good authority that you are to have your sixteenth birthday next week – on the 10th of October, is that correct?'

'Yes, that is my birthday.' I replied.

'Well, it also happens that my dear Samantha's birthday falls two weeks after yours – on the 24th of October. As you know, she will also be turning sixteen.' she clasped her hands together in joy 'Ah! such a lovely age.' Sam turned to look at her Mother, rather suspiciously, I noticed. 'Anyway, I was thinking how pleasant it would be if the two of you could have a combined birthday party. I know it would be the perfect chance to introduce you, Mary, to some of London's society.'

'London's society?' I said out loud, in surprise – forgetting that this was the reason that I had come to London in the first place. Misselthwaite suddenly seemed so far away. I closed my eyes briefly and thought of Dickon and his smile, happy and immersed in nature. So far away from all of this! I must bear it, I must! I reminded myself.

'Yes my dear. Every young woman is introduced to society on her sixteenth birthday – or thereabouts. Of course, Sam has already seen her fair share of society – haven't you, my darling.' she said, turning to Sam with a fond expression on her face.

'Yes, Mother.'

I glanced at Sam and noticed her rolling her eyes once her Mother looked away. I stiffled a giggle, trying not to look at Mrs Sutherland.

'Now then. I intend to draft some invitations this morning, and I think we will arrange for the party to be in two week's time. That will give everyone enough time to get to know each other, and for me to make the necessary preparations.'

'More like bribe the right people to come.' I heard Sam mutter under her breath.

'What was that, Samantha?' Mrs Sutherland broke in.

'Nothing Mother.' Sam smiled. 'I think it's wonderful you're putting on a party for Mary and I... and er... thinking of our best interests.'

'My dear! I'm so pleased you think so! this party is going to be the talk of the neighbourhood, at the very least. It's not every day that not one, but two young ladies turn sixteen! Mary, I don't know if you're aware of the significance of a young woman's sixteenth birthday. It is often marked as her 'coming out' into society – where young ladies get a chance to mingle in the right kinds of adult company.'

'and be bored the whole time.'

'Samantha my dear, you must learn to speak up or no one will be able to hear what you're saying!'

'I'm sorry Mother, I said “and have a great time.” Sam turned to me and winked.

Mrs Sutherland smiled in agreement 'Yes, well sixteen is a very exciting age for you young ladies. The world really is your Oyster! Oh girls, I cannot wait to have this party! I think perhaps,' she said slowly 'a shopping trip might be in order? Every young lady should have a new gown for such an occasion'

How much worse can this get? I thought, inwardly rolling my eyes. First a party, and now a shopping trip??

'Anyway, I'll leave you girls to dress. You have a busy day ahead of you. Miss Godfrey will be calling on you both at nine this morning. She'll expect both of you to be punctual.'

'Yes Mother, we promise not to be late.' Sam said, somewhat sarcastically. I marvelled that Mrs Sutherland did not pick up on it, thinking how different it would have been had it been Mrs Medlock in her place! Mrs Medlock had always been able to smell sarcasm a mile away.

'Ohhh, Mother and her parties!' Sam exclaimed, as soon as Mrs Sutherland had left the room. 'God Mary, I simply dread them. They are usally such dull affairs!'

'We would not be having a dull time if we were at Misselthwaite,' I replied. 'We would be eating birthday cake and playing party games with Colin and Dickon – and if it was sunny we would eat lunch in the garden under the shade of a tree... of course, that's a little difficult to do when it's cold like this, but we would still have fun.'

'Tell me about one of your birthdays, Mary.' Sam went and sat on her bed. 'We still have some time before Charlotte comes back.'

I cast my mind back to the past, fondly remembering my thirteenth birthday and the bonfire that Dickon and Colin had made for me in the middle of the secret garden. That year was the last year that Colin had been there to share my birthday with me. Shortly afterwards, he had been sent away to London.

'Well, Dickon and Colin once made me a bonfire.' I said smiling. 'They lit it in the Secret Garden and led me there in surprise. We toasted pieces of bread over it, and hot potatoes. I'll never forget how Colin burnt his fingers trying to pick one of them up when they were still too hot – he spent the rest of the night pretending it didn't hurt, but wincing every time he thought we weren't looking.'

I realised that I had digressed, but saw Sam looking at me with humour twinkling in her grey eyes.

'I can just imagine Colin doing that!' she laughed. 'He always seems so frail – as if he is going to break into a million pieces and smash - like fine china.'

'Dickon isn't fragile though. He's so very strong. Rough, wild – like a shaggy moor pony'
'No wonder you feel so strongly about him.' Sam said, dropping her voice to a whisper. 'I wish I had someone to feel strongly about. I don't think I've ever been in love. I've met so many young men – and most of them just seem so arrogant and ... self assured! as if they know everything!'
'Colin was like that over the Bonfire.' I remembered. 'He tried to take credit for all of it, when of course I knew that Dickon was the one who had gathered the wood and built it... he always was good with his hands.'

'I bet he is good with his hands in many ways, not just in “building bonfires”', she chuckled.

I laughed in spite of myself, hoping my cheeks weren't giving away my embarrassment.

'But of course, I wouldn't know anything about that.' She replied, and winked at me. 'Come, Charlotte hasn't come back yet to dress us, so I'll help you with your gown. And later – tonight, I want to hear all about your moor boy.'

My Secret, Chapter 11

Chapter 11:
Enter the Sutherlands

Had the streets of London always been this grey?

We were making our way through the streets of the city, meandering through the darkness lit only by dim headlamps and gas lights shining from windows as we passed. The darkness seemed thick and oppressive – even somewhat penetrating, and I was grateful for the window being shut tight. I felt as though if I stepped out into it, into the blackness and the fog, my soul would be swallowed up in it, into the swirling muddy blackness that lay beyond the windows of Dr Sutherland's carriage.

Dr Sutherland sat opposite Colin and I. He was a middle-aged man, rather tall, with a face that was creased with frown lines. He wore about him the seriousness that seemed to accompany most educated men, and he did not smile often, merely lifting the corners of his mouth when Colin displayed his youthful exuberance or told an amusing anecdote. He had spoken very little to me since we had left the train station, beyond the regular formal courteouseys, and I got the feeling that he felt he had very little time for young women – especially those that had been brought up and educated far off in the wilderness of Yorkshire.

Colin sat by my side, evidently excited that I had arrived at last. He was his usual self – exactly how I remembered him. Brimming with self-confidence and chatting non-stop about his education and life in London. It felt good to see Colin – the one familiar person I knew in this dark and dreary place. Already I missed Misselthwaite immensely. I missed the stark emptiness of the countryside, the big old house with all it's secrets. I missed the Secret Garden, which had been my refuge and sanctuary for so long, and of course, I missed Dickon. I thought of him – so many miles away now, and wondered what he would be doing. It was late – he had probably eaten dinner already at the house, and had made his way back to the cottage he shared with Ben Weatherstaff. I could picture him sitting by the fire in the kitchen of the cottage, perhaps half listening to Ben as he spoke of the old days, or alone in his bedroom, with a pencil and a piece of paper... from which he would draw any manner of creatures and bring them to life under his hand. I saw him as I remembered him then, as a young lad, with his animals all around him. I remembered Soot the raven, who had sat on his shoulder, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a bird to do. I remember my first thoughts of him then, that he had been some kind of animal charmer, like the one's I had seen when I was growing up in India. Later on I had realised that he did not possess any particular kind of magic, rather the animals responded to his kind and gentle nature, knowing that he would not hurt them. It was the same for people, too, I mused. Then blushed as I thought of his eyes – and the way they had penetrated right into me, speaking to me, and telling me not to be afraid.

Telling me -

My thoughts were interrupted by Colin, speaking eagerly at my side. He was sitting rather animated – upright in the seat – a stark contrast to Dr Sutherland who sat opposite us and barely moved at all.

'So tell me Mary, how are everyone at Misslethwaite? It seems like years since I last went back to visit.' He paused, but not long enough to let me answer, for he carried on 'and my Father, I trust he is well? still burrowing himself away in that Library of his? and what of the Garden?' By this he meant the secret garden. He laughed, looking at me and grinning. 'You're not still getting Dickon to slave over that garden, are you Mary?!'

I felt myself flushing at the mention of Dickon's name. Did Colin know about Dickon and I? I tried desperately to quell my beating heart.

'Well, you know how Dickon is.' I replied 'I couldn't keep him away from the garden if I tried.'

'Dickon', Dr Sutherland suddenly interjected. 'I've heard that name before. Colin, is he the common Moor boy you were telling me about, who was helping you with – what was it? - your secret garden?'

Your secret Garden? I thought.

'Oh yes, Dickon has been there right from the beginning. He helped somewhat in bringing the Garden back to life when we found it.'

I stared at Colin, wondering what kind of story he had told the Sutherlands about the discovery of the Secret Garden. We both knew full well that he hadn't played any part in discovering it. His part in the story came later. I would have to ask him when we had a moment alone, I decided, rather irritated at him.

'Oh, I see.' Dr Sutherland said. 'Well, those Moor boys can be handy to have around if you need some physical labour done. Built like Oxen, some of them, well so I've been told. But brute strength does not compare to intellectual ability, does it, my boy'

Now it was Colin's turn to blush. How could he let Dr Sutherland say something like that? I wondered, feeling my anger rise.

I spoke up.

'Actually Dr Sutherland, Dickon Sowerby has been a very good friend of Colin and I for these past five years. Do you know it was he who helped Colin learn to walk again?'

'Is that so?' he mused, placing his hands under his chin, and looking at me for what seemed an uncomfortably long amount of time. All the while the carriage making its way through the dim London streets.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Look Mary! here it is!'

Colin raised his voice in excitement, pointing at a large red brick house that was appearing out of the fog, as if by magic, as we made our way closer. Presently the carriage halted and Dr Sutherland got out, followed by Colin. Colin held the door open for me, and then grinned at me, bowing and gesturing for me to exit. He looks just like a court jester, posing as an ill-educated servant, I thought, but had to smile at his antics. It was clear that Colin still retained some of his theatrical charm.

'I would like to welcome Lady Mary Lennox to the residence of the Sutherland family,' he began in a overly snobby voice. 'Ma'am if you would just step down from your carriage.'

I felt the cold cobbled stones under my feet and watched as Dr Sutherland entered the large house, and returned with two servants. Colin smiled, and took my arm. 'I can't wait to introduce you to everyone, Mary. They've all heard so much about you. Mainly about you being my cousin and all, and all the adventures we've had over the years at Misselthwaite! and of course they want to know all about India and what it's like to live there and the Rajahs – which I told them were boy princes covered in hundreds and hundreds of jewels and-'

'My dear boy, now is not the time to stand and talk. They await Miss Lennox inside.' Dr Sutherland reprimanded softly.

We turned and headed up the steps, and I couldn't help but notice the servants bow as we went past. What kind of house was this? I wondered. I hoped the servants wouldn't feel they had to treat me that way for too long. It made me feel uncomfortable, and once again, I longed for the familiarity of Misselthwaite – of home.

It was certainly a grand house, and very modern, compared to Misslelthwaite. The floorboards were polished and covered with brightly coloured rugs – some of which I recognised as being from India. We walked down the hall, following Dr Sutherland. At last we came to a door and went inside – to a large and comfortable room filled with armchairs and a blazing fire.

The first person I noticed was a young girl, seated opposite the door who smiled as we went in. She must be Samantha, I thought to myself, before turning to see who else occupied the room. A middle-aged woman was sitting on the chaise next to Samantha, Mrs Sutherland, I thought. Sitting on her right was an older girl – probably close to Dickon's years in age, and sitting next to her was a young man who looked to be in his early 20's. An elderly woman with white hair sat at the other end of the room, closest to the fire, and seemed to be engaged in some kind of embroidery.

Dr Sutherland's voice rang out over the room.

'I would like to introduce Miss Mary Lennox, niece of Lord Craven, who has joined us tonight from Misslelthwaite Manor.'

I smiled shyly at everyone seated around me, not knowing exactly how to proceed, but Mrs Sutherland gestured for me to come and sit next to her. I noticed that Dr Sutherland had moved towards the door and was talking to one of the servants stationed there.

'Mary, how lovely,' she said, holding her hands out to me in a welcoming gesture. She took my hands in hers, drawing me towards her and kissing me on the cheek. 'We've heard so much about you. Let me introduce you to my family.'

The older girl was the first to be introduced.

'This is my eldest daughter, Miss Sutherland. But we just call her Patricia.'

'Mother! we all know that it's Pat – Patricia sounds so formal!' she complained in a joking tone, then came forward to me.

'Delighted to meet you, Mary' she said, taking my hands and kissing my cheek as Mrs Sutherland had done.

'And this is my oldest child – William.' she said, leading me towards the young man. He smiled and took my hands. 'Mary Lennox', he began, 'so this is the beautiful young lady you've been telling us about, eh Colin'. His hands felt warm in mine, and I noticed his eyes upon me. I glanced away and managed to mumble 'I'm very pleased to meet you, too.' before being whisked away to the next person.

'Miss Lennox' – then after a stern look from Pat 'Mary, I would like to introduce you to my youngest daughter, Samantha Sutherland.' and after a 'hmmm!' from Pat, 'Sam for short.'

I had guessed that she would be Samantha, she seemed to be of a similar age to Colin and myself, and I was intrigued. It was the first time I had been around a young woman of my own age since I had been in India, and I was fascinated by her, in spite of myself.

Samantha Sutherland had dark brown hair, almost black, with skin as pale as ivory. Her features were delicate, which gave her an almost childlike, innocent look, yet there was an intellegance within her grey eyes – and I got the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye. I supposed I would find out, I sighed inwardly. This was to be my home now...

The last person to be introduced was the elderly lady with white hair. She was small and rather dainty, and spoke with what I could only take to be a high class London accent. 'My Mother, Mrs Maia Bennet.' Mrs Sutherland said, smiling fondly at the woman seated next to the fireplace. 'My dear girl', the old woman said 'we've heard so much about you, and we hope that you will feel at home here, as much as our dear Colin has done over the past two years.' Her smile of welcome seemed genuine enough, so I smiled back.

I turned and saw Colin standing next to William, talking in an animated way. Dr Sutherland was nowhere to be seen, and I supposed he had business to take care of. Pat and Sam were sitting together on the sofa, chatting to each other and every now and again stealing a curious glance at me. All of a sudden I longed to be alone, to be somewhere where I would be safe – where no prying eyes could venture. I longed for the sanctity of the Secret Garden, and more than anything else, I pined for Dickon. I would have given anything at that moment to feel his arms around me, to hear him say 'Hush, Miss Mary', and to see his smile.

Mrs Sutherland's voice broke through my thoughts. I sighed and put my thoughts of Dickon on hold.

'Mary, my dear the servants have prepared your room for you. You will be sleeping in the same room as Samantha.' I noticed she had said the girl's full name again, and then saw that Sam had shot her a withering glance. I guessed that 'Samantha' was a title that was only used in the company of visitors. Then a thought hit me. I was not going to have my own room? no place to call my own? I tried to keep my feelings in check. I was too weary to give in to them, just yet. But to have no privacy, no peace? I bit my lip, feeling anger beginning to grow inside me, all of a sudden hating my Uncle for sending me away, when I should have been back at Misselthaite, where I belonged. I longed for the simple things, the beauty of the moor and the gardens, the sight of Ben's cottage, where Dickon lived, its simple whitewashed walls gleaming in the sunlight. I felt a hollowness in the pit of my stomach at the thought of Dickon. I wondered what he was doing now? was he thinking of me? You won't see him again for a long time, Mary Lennox, my inner voice taunted me. Not for a long, long time. What were you thinking of when you told him that you loved him? when you knew that you were going to leave?

'Come Mary, let me show you to your room. You might like to refresh yourself before dinner.'

'Don't worry Mother, I'll show her up', Sam said, jumping up and heading towards us, giving Mrs Sutherland a dazzling smile.

'You see, we've got so much to talk about. We have to get to know each other, after all.'

'Yes, that's fine Mrs Sutherland.' I replied, wanting then, more than anything to escape from the confines of the stifling sitting room. 'After all, it is Sam's room.'

'Well, we will see you two girls for dinner then. Don't be late, Samantha.'

'We won't Mother. Come on Mary.'

Sam took me by my hand and led me from the room. I was grateful and noticed I felt better immediately after leaving. She must have noticed my relief.

'I can't stand sitting in there either, god, what a bore it is sometimes! and Mother seems to get more old fashioned by the day!'

'I'm not used to seeing so many people all together like that', I said. 'At Misselthaite, there is only my uncle and myself, and the odd servant. Not like here. This is going to take some getting used to.' I was curious. 'Does your family always sit together like that?' all night? I wondered.

'Oh, all the time. Mother deems it a proper way to spend the time, and she is always trying to impress Grandmother. Usually, its only the four of us – Pat, Mother, Grandmother and I. It is so unbelievably boring. Mother insists that we do nothing except play cards or embroider, and the hours pass so slowly. Which is why I'm so glad you've come to stay with us, Mary! you'll be a breath of fresh air around here!'

I shuddered inwardly, already thinking of countless hours I was to spend here, the time that would be wasted, the dread of knowing that Misslethwaite was so far away. I decided then, that I would do whatever it took to get back to Misselthaite – my home, and to Dickon, as quickly as I could.