Mary

Her father laughed quietly. "I hardly think you know what you need, girl. Tis pretty much decided, between Lord Hawthorne and I. You shall be betrothed to young James and that is that."

Mary had a distinct feeling that her father had only disclosed this information on account of her great happiness and somehow she believed her happiness bothered him. She felt a deep sorrow for her mother. To be married to such a cruel man, she thought, it must be hell and I will not go through the same, even if I am alone forever.

She looked out the window and caught her reflection in the window. She was pale and her hair was a bit of a mess. She wondered how nobody, especially her father asked any uncomfortable questions after she had disappeared for a while with William. Perhaps he truly believed her story of having some quiet time with William and talking. Be as it may, she thought, if her father's mind was truly set on marrying her off, there was not much she could do to change that.

The happiness that she had felt only moments before was now tarnished. She felt her heart squeezing with anxiety. Could she ever go through with young James Hawthorne what she had just been through with William? The lovemaking?

Surely not, she told herself. The mere thought of the pale and clumsy James touching her in places where William had just touched her not too long ago made her shudder. She could not picture Hawthorne's ugly face above hers, mouth open in pleasure, groaning in delight, although in her vision, he more scraped like a pig. She closed her eyes. No need for such thoughts. Nothing had been decided yet and perhaps she could have William talk to Father and change his mind. Everything was possible with William by her side, she thought. Perhaps she could even finally go and join him on the continent... She shook her head in dismay. She was working herself into a state, she knew it.

Mary closed her eyes in hope to shut her father out for a while and perhaps even doze off. The way back to the Lovington Manor was a long one and she did not want to spend it chatting or rather being lectured by her father.

Suddenly, the old Lord Hawthorne sprung in her mind. A fat and oily face with sagging jowls and thin hair peering from under his wig. His bad breath and strong fingers holding onto her back, pulling her onto him, wanting her so much it was more than evident.

Oh, God... thought Mary.Please, do not let that happen. Although newly married, Lord Hawthorne was well known for his indiscretions while still married to James' mother, who succumbed to a long illness only a couple of years ago. There was gossip and rumours were flying high through the households and Mary was privy to all of them, even though she was not meant to be. When her mother entertained ladies for an afternoon tea, she would hide in a room adjacent to the library where they sat and listen. She would soak in the gossip, giggle at the silliness and sometimes blush in embarrassment when she heard something that was certainly not meant for her young ears, such as the escapades of Lord Hawthorne.

She tried to fall asleep, but her troubled mind and unsteady road their coach was taking prevented her from resting. Her thoughts flashed between William and the small library, which was the place of their lovemaking and the greedy look of old Hawthorne and the way he made her feel. Disgusted, with her skin crawling to the point where she wanted to scream, finally, Mary managed to doze off into a dream full of ugliness and fright.