Mary forced herself to roll her eyes with a nonchalance that she most certainly did not feel.Oh please. What drivel!Hurtfuldrivel.
The Misses Smithe tittered behind their hands, the youngest sporting a pretty blush. Mary never looked pretty when she blushed; she just turned blotchy.
“What of that skinny, freckled, ginger crofter’s daughter you always seem to hang around with? Will you miss us more thanher?” The oldest Miss Smithe said, her reddened nose wrinkling.
Mary closed her eyes at the insult. She was not aginger. Her hair was more brown than red, for pity’s sake! And certainly not orange. And as Papa said, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it if itwerered.
She waited expectantly for Gabe’s response. He would leap to her defence, she was certain. They had been best friends for eight years, after all.
“Most assuredly, Miss Smithe,” he said.
Mary’s mouth dropped open, her breath fogging the air in front of her, then dissipating, just like her hope. He could not have said what she just thought she heard.
“Miss Wright was pleasing enough to run about a meadow with when I was a young lad, but she is not at all refined like you fine ladies; far too interested in the theatre,” he said with a modicum of distaste. “Alas, she is still but a child in leading strings with a head full of fancies.”
He could not mean it! She peeked her head around the corner of the building to assure herself of his jest…but one look at his face and she knew he was in earnest. Foolish hope.
One trembling, gloved hand rose to cover Mary’s chest, just above the heart that now lay shrivelled beneath. He had slain her. Broken her heart just as easily as performing his morning ablutions. As though it were just another part of a rather ordinary day.
Mary pressed her back against the cold brick of the confectionary building, one arm still hooked through the basket of food for her papa. How could Gabriel say such an awful thing? Did he truly believe what he said about her? Oh lord! Did he always talk about her thusly when she was not around to defend herself?
Embarrassment mingled with the pain in her chest. Did everyone believe her to be a lost puppy following the older fellow around?
Suddenly the ache in her chest was too much. Turning on her heel, she hurried through the narrow alley and out onto the next street. The moment she was free of the confining alley, she picked up her skirts with her free hand and ran, ignoring the biting cold air that rushed painfully into her lungs and the heavy weight of her basket on one arm.
What did she need with Gabriel Ashley, anyway? His uncle, his school, and the pressure of society were all telling him that he was too far above her station to give any further notice to her. He would grow to be a gentleman, and she would always be the daughter of a poor crofter on his uncle’s land.
“Bah!” she shouted, her voice carrying on the icy wind behind her.
A sob escaped her as she ran, and fresh tears wavered before her eyes. Damn Gabriel Ashley! He was moving to Scotland and she would never see him again, so what did it matter what he thought?
But it does matter!
She loved him, and he had broken her heart! The scoundrel! The cad! The rogue! He had not even told her that he was going to move away!Damn Gabriel Ashley! Damn him, damn him, damn him!
