“In that case, perhaps this gentleman is not the one for you.”
“I can’t be so selfish any longer, Edith.” Marjorie said, a false brightness falling over the tone of her voice. “I’ve been hoping that perhaps this closeness, this friendship that Alexander and I have developed could be more, but I know better than to hope for something that could never be. It is solely my wishful thinking. An earl could never fall in love with a girl who grew up on the streets. He should marry someone like himself.”
“Need I remind you that your own story is something you once considered wishful thinking?” Edith suddenly said, her voice growing stronger and more determined with each said word. “How many nights were you shivering on the streets, hoping to be taken in somewhere warm, by someone good and decent who would take care of you? And then, it happened. You wished it to happen. There is no other way to explain it.”
“Oh, dear Edith,” Marjorie chuckled at her friend’s naivety. “You don’t wish things to happen.”
“But you do!” Edith was adamant, and Marjorie loved her all the more for her desire to make Marjorie believe that their love story was possible. But hope was a dangerous thing, one Marjorie should close her heart to.
“No,” Marjorie shook her head, sighing heavily. “I believe I know the answer to why Alexander wishes to help the children, and why he is so involved in what we do.”
“And what is the answer?”
Marjorie wanted to believe her friend with all her heart. But the evidence pointed otherwise. “He simply feels bad about the way things commenced between us. He has told me that he blamed me for much when we were younger. He disliked me for circumstances outside of my own control. He has even apologized for it. So, my opinion is that he is endeavoring to somehow clear his conscience because he feels bad about our past. By helping these children, he is making amends.”
“Perhaps that is only a part of his reasoning,” Edith urged.
“I do not think so. We have already arranged to meet with Percival for another stroll tomorrow. I think it is a sign that I needed, a sign that will force me to accept the truth. He doesn’t want me for himself. He never did. He is still silently urging me to continue with our initial plan and marry this man.”
“This man you have absolutely no interest in marrying,” Edith clarified what needed little to no clarification.
“That does not matter,” Marjorie replied softly, her voice brimming with sadness.
“Why, that matters the most!”
“No, dear, sweet Edith.” Marjorie wasn’t certain whom she was trying to convince, herself or her friend, or perhaps both. In the end, it did not matter. All that mattered was for her to suffocate the craving that she felt for Alexander’s presence. “I need to put up a wall between us. I need to remind myself that we are where we have always been. The fact that we are more close now does not change that. He is the son of an ear. I am merely a ward that same earl saved from the streets. Our paths have merged, but they will diverge once again, and it is for the better. I do not wish to be anyone’s burden, least of all his.”
Edith sighed hearing out her friend’s short but expressive monologue.
“If I make an effort, perhaps I could have an amicable marriage with Percival,” Marjorie added. “I suppose that has its benefits as well. We both lead our separate lives, without the interference of the other, solely appearing in public for those utterly necessary functions.”
“What about spending nights as husband and wife?” Edith suddenly asked.
Marjorie’s heart rebelled at the very thought of baring either her body or her soul to anyone other than Alexander. But Edith was right. If she married Percival, he would certainly expect some sort of intimacy from her, and she would need to oblige.
“I would probably not be the first or the last woman to give herself to a husband not of her own choosing,” Marjorie finally concluded in a tone that signaled to her friend the end of this conversation, at least for the time being. “But I do not wish to discuss this any longer. It tires me, and it saddens me. I would rather discuss the children.”
The mere mention of the children brightened her mood. They were taken care of, and they continue to be so. That was a victory she could never even have dreamed of.
“Mrs. Warwick was kind enough to send word that she has some old children’s clothing she has no use of any longer,” Edith suddenly remembered. “We could stop by her shop on the way to the inn and get the package she has readied.”
“Oh, dear Edith,” Marjorie gushed. “It is just one piece of good news after another.” The smile she offered to her friend though, was still marred by sadness, although her heart was filled with joy for the children and the way their fate had turned around.
“I only wish you were not so saddened by your emotions…”
Marjorie got up and walked over to her friend, sitting down by her side. She took Edith’s hand into hers, squeezing them gently. “That too shall pass, dear Edith. Now, I suggest we head to Mrs. Warwick’s shop. The children will be so thrilled to get new clothes, especially the girls.”
The thought of the children finally getting the chance to lead a happy life overshadowed her need for more presence of Alexander in her life. She wanted more of him in every manner possible, but she managed to push that desire all the way back in the furthest corners of her mind, reminding herself it would not do to be hopeful about something that could only end in heartache.
Chapter 15
“Ihope you do not mind that I have invited myself to a picnic of my own device in your own garden, dear Marjorie,” Percival announced, as all three of them watched Annie set up the table right in the middle of the garden.
Marjorie had readied herself for a stroll, as per Alexander’s latest letter. However, this morning, the two gentlemen surprised her by knocking on her door much earlier than expected and completely changing the plans. Marjorie had nothing against a picnic in her own garden. In fact, she welcomed the privacy that the rose bushes and tall trees provided even from the neighboring gardens.
“I would like to emphasize that Alexander had nothing to do with it,” Percival continued, and it did not escape Marjorie’s attention to see Alexander slightly uneasy. Perhaps he was fond of set plans and people who assure that those plans were followed.
“I assure you both that it is quite all right,” she smiled, wondering what would be the right amount of time that she needed to spend with them before she excused herself due to a headache, but which would still not give off the impression of being a rude hostess.At least two hours,she thought to herself. That meant that she would need to try at conversing, while in all honesty, she did not wish to converse with either of them.
