A Loveless Marriage

Chapter 5: Fred

It was unexpected.  I had called on Agatha Chorley's residence fully expecting to be met with Miss Taylor's usual dismissive gaze.  From the moment the maid opened the door, I could see that something was dreadfully amiss.  The place had the prickly feeling of the hours before a storm, but once I saw Miss Chorley I knew the storm had already taken place.  Miss Chorley was alone, dark lines puckered around her mouth and red-rimmed eyes.  She started when she saw me.

     "Mr Frederick Wilkes?" Miss Chorley said with an equal measure of repulsion and curiosity.  She did not add the words "that scoundrel", but I could tell she was thinking it.  

    "Alas, I see my reputation has preceded me," I said, flashing a boyish grin.

  "Sadly, yes," replied the old lady haughtily, sitting upright in her chair.  "State your business here, sir.  You are most unwelcome."

  "My business is with Mary Taylor," I said.

  "What business could you possibly have with that little hussy?" she said.

A knot tightened in my stomach, something was wrong.  Had Miss Taylor eloped with William Chorley before I could stake my claim on her, I wondered with growing fear.  Without her, I had no hopes of reaching my inheritance. I took a deep breath and fixed my eyes on Agatha Chorley, looking for any clues her face might betray.

  "Now why would you call that charming young lady a hussy?" I said smoothly. 

  "That little viper at my bosom has been making designs on my nephew William," the old lady spat.  "There is talk all over London."

"Indeed.  Just talk? They have not eloped to Gretna Green?" 

 "No, I dismissed the wench last night before she sunk her claws in him."

Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief.  The conditions could not be any more perfect for my proposal, Mary Taylor would be vulnerable and scared.  Her employer's cruel dismissal would throw light on the precarious position she was in and she would inevitably throw herself into the safety of my arms. As long as I could keep her out of the clutches of the good-natured William Chorley.  Regardless of whether the chump loved the girl or not, a man of his temperament would almost certainly marry a damsel in distress and believe it the right thing to do.

  "You dismissed the girl because of some gossip?"

  "She was scheming to get my money and his!"

"You old fool," I laughed bitterly.  "If all Mary Taylor had wanted was a fortune then she would be my wife by now."

At these words, Agatha Chorley's face turned ashen with shock.  Old dragons like her were used to the people around her fawning obsequiously but I had no need for her favour.  I watched her face change from shock to disbelief and then to wretched curiosity. 

"I've inherited a fortune from my uncle and asked Mary to marry me," I said with a passing regard for the truth.  "But she is such a good, principled girl she refused me."

  "I don't believe you," she sneered. "When would you have even seen Mary to speak to her?"

  "Ask that little red-haired maid who let me in," I replied.

Her shrewd blue eyes did not leave mine as she tugged at the bell-chord.  The usually chatty little maid scampered in, as timid as a mouse in the presence of her mistress.  Her eyes darted between the old lady and myself, this time she did not blush at the sight of me. 

   "Alice, have you seen this man before?" Agatha Chorley demanded.

  "Yes, madam," the girl squeaked, her eyes getting wider.