Tudor Roses & Romance

Chapter 5: Masked

They say misery loves company, but sometimes it's the company that makes you miserable. It's those people who care only for themselves and see their own perspective. It begs the question, why are you keeping them around? If someone makes you more miserable than they make you happy, let them go. Nothing is worth distress and despair, especially when the love you've been waiting for is within your grasp.

But nothing's worse than company that overstays its welcome. Hospitality demands it, and sometimes so does life. It's time to move forward, which often won't happen unless circumstances force us to leave our comfort zones. Because at the end of the day, there's no time for regrets, explanations, or excuses. Keep moving and growing, shaking off petty drama.

Realizing that hospitality has worn its welcome, Mary dressed in her old clothes. The Westhrope Hall servants must have laundered them because they smell fresh and clean. Once everything was finalized, Her Highness opened the room door and entered the hall. She could hear voices coming from a room at the end of the corridor.

One thing Mary feels she must do before leaving is to thank Charles for watching over her. With that goal in mind, she walked toward the muffled voices. That's when the Princess overheard Charles and Catherine arguing. His fiance' must have returned early, so Mary also thought to thank her (even though she did nothing to help).

As her feet crept closer to the room, she could overhear bits and pieces of the conversation. And that's when Mary realized they were arguing about her. Catherine kept saying, "I want her out of my house. I don't care if she's the King's daughter or not. And I'll see those nightclothes burned."

It bothered Mary to know that this girl hated her that much. If she didn't realize it before, she did now. But Charles kept saying, "The Princess did nothing wrong. She was sick and couldn't go to her house without alerting the paparazzi. Nothing happened, so I don't understand why you're acting like a spoiled brat."

Then Catherine took umbrage and stated, "You don't understand? She's in my house, wearing my clothes. And don't think I haven't seen how you look at her. Let me remind you that if you so much as think about leaving me, I'll spill everything I know to the press."

Not wanting to hear anymore, Mary fled back to the guest room. She called for a maid to bring her paper and a pen and "Please have a town car ready out front. It shouldn't take long for me to compose a letter."

The pleasant, older maid nodded and left. Once gone, Her Highness began writing. She thanked Charles for his hospitality and kindness extended to her in her time of need. The letter further detailed the desire that should he ever have a similar situation not to hesitate to call on her. She wished him good health and a happy day before folding it and calling for the maid again.

The maid, whose name is Ingrid, entered, and Mary handed her the note. "Please make sure the Duke gets this. It's a simple letter thanking him. I feel I've worn my welcome out, and it's time for me to leave," she commented.

Ingrid nodded and mentioned, "I'm sure it's not my place to say this, but don't leave just to appease the Duke's fiance'. Regardless, I'll personally deliver the letter for you, Princess."

After Ingrid curtsied and left, Mary took up her purse and quietly departed. Unfortunately, she could hear Catherine now shouting at Charles. That left Mary feeling her stay had come between them somehow. A thought passed through her mind. Though it should bother her, it didn't because she couldn't help but think how Charles might be better off without someone like Catherine. That made her remember her deceased aunt, who also enjoyed yelling at the Duke.

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, the Princess walked downstairs. Passing various rooms, she heard the servants whisper. It appears they agree with her. One time when she was coming out of slumber, two maids were in the guest room dusting and whatnot. They must have thought her still asleep because they spoke quietly, but not so quietly that Mary couldn't hear it. And she distinctly recalls one of them saying, "His Grace is more himself with her not around. Never a more unpleasant girl has ever been born, except maybe his late wife."