“Your garden is such a lovely place,” Percival looked around, glancing at the trees which swayed gently in the spring breeze, and the colorful flowers blossoming in perfectly designated places around the paved pathway behind the house. “Do you tend to it yourself?”
“Yes,” Marjorie smiled proudly. “You should have seen it when I arrived. It was nothing but weed and barred dirt.”
“And you breathed life into it,” Percival commented with a tender note in his voice.
“I suppose you could say that,” she replied, herself blooming with delight. Not many people had been allowed in it and having someone speak such words regarding the fruit of her efforts made her feel respected, a sensation she needed in her life.
She gazed in Percival’s direction, only now really seeing him. She had been so focused on Alexander, that she barely gave this young man a chance to prove himself worthy of her attention. Perhaps she had been too harsh in not allowing him to do so.
But the moment she turned to Alexander, everything, and everyone else seemed to fade away. He was the sun on the horizon of her mind. She wanted to rise with him every morning and set with him every night. There was no escaping that yearning, that need. There was only painful acknowledgment, and the even more painful realization that the warmth of his smile was not meant for her.
“Alexander tells me you take care of those urchins from the streets,” Percival suddenly noted.
“The orphaned children, yes.” She did not particularly care for the term he had used, but she decided to ignore it.
“That only emphasizes your motherly tendencies,” Percival continued, and Marjorie started to feel uneasy with such talk in front of Alexander. It made no sense, yet she could not escape the feeling.
“I suppose every woman has motherly tendencies.” She decided to return the conversation back to more neutral ground and managed to do so successfully. “It is how nature intended it.”
“Quite,” Percival seemed to have suddenly lost the interest he had in this conversation, and instead turned to Alexander, and commenced a conversation regarding the latest shares he had purchased. Marjorie seized the chance to go over to Annie and tell her what a good job she was doing.
“Please bring the tea, Annie,” Marjorie smiled.
Annie whispered right into her ear. “Did I put everything in the right order?”
Marjorie’s heart clenched at the question. It was probably something she herself would inquire upon becoming someone’s wife. Did she wear the right kind of gown for the right kind of ball? Did she say the right thing in the right time? The idea of this imposed order made her feel anxious, yet she knew that there was simply no way around it. Perhaps if she were to marry out of love, she was certain that this man would not care in the least whether or not she was wearing the right gown or whether she would say the right thing. He would not care because everything else would be right. The two of them together would feel right. That was how she Alexander would feel. Her heart kept assuring her of this fact. Yet, her mind kept returning to the unavoidable truth that they did not belong to the same worlds, and they never would. She was merely a visitor in his.
“You did everything splendidly,” Marjorie smiled at Annie, feeling something choking her in the middle of the throat.
A few minutes later, once the company of three had settled into their rightful places around the garden table, Annie reappeared with a tray of served tea. She placed the first cup in front of Marjorie, then the next one in front of Percival, who was so immersed in his story that he was barely cognizant of the young maid’s work.
“… and I kept telling him that I would not buy at those prices. That was absurd. Did he think me a sheep?” At those words, he angrily waved his hand, not realizing that Annie was to his right, with the teacup in her hand, about to put it before him. Unintentionally, he pushed her, which led to her spilling the tea from the cup all over the table, with a few droplets leaking down onto his trousers.
“What on Earth!?” Percival jumped, pushing the chair backward, looking daggers at the poor maid, who was trembling at what she had done. “Have you two hands, girl!?”
“I… I… I’m dreadfully sorry…” Annie’s voice trembled with fear, her entire body slumping inward, as if expecting to be beaten for this transgression. Marjorie immediately jumped to her aid.
“She did not mean it, I assure you,” Marjorie surprised even herself with the strength of her voice at defending this poor girl who was not to be blamed for someone pushing her.
“Perhaps you ought to find less clumsy servants who are focused on their work!” Percival still refused to acknowledge the fact that he had any effect on what just transpired. Marjorie knew that if she pointed that out, the situation would only escalate, and that was the last thing she wished to have happen.
“Annie is not clumsy,” Alexander interfered. Marjorie’s eyes darted up towards him. “I have been here on several occasions, with Marjorie’s friend, Miss. Sotheby present, and Annie’s skills are as good as those of any other maid. Judging her skills based on one mistake would be a bit too harsh, old boy, don’t you agree?”
The look of utter discontent in Percival’s eyes was slowly beginning to dissipate. Alexander’s words had gotten to him, and Marjorie once again seized the opportunity to walk up to Annie and send her back inside for a kitchen towel and another tray, so she could pick up the spilled tea.
“I am truly sorry, Miss Marjorie,” Annie was already crying, only she turned away from the men. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed the words out of her chest. “I know I’ve let you down. I… I promise it won’t happen again…”
“Annie,” Marjorie smiled as she led her to back to the house, “everything is all right. These things happen to everyone. And I want to assure you that you did not do anything that deserves any punishment.”
Annie’s eyes sparkled with the amount of tears still flooding her eyes. “I didn’t?”
“Of course not,” Marjorie assured her. “Now, run along inside, and do what I’ve instructed you.”
Annie’s expression suddenly brightened. “Yes, Miss. Marjorie.”
Within seconds, she disappeared back in the house, and Marjorie returned to her guests. Percival was still standing. She could see a few stains on his trousers, but they were barely anything to raise such a fuss about. She glanced back in Alexander’s direction, and from the look on his face, she could tell that he felt the same. It was all too dramatic for her taste. It was not as if the poor, dear girl did it on purpose.
“Let us not allow such a minor accident to spoil our good mood on such a lovely day,” she chirped joyfully.
