Chapter 8

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Mary often woke during the night, she was accustomed to hearing the sounds of her mother screaming at her father. The outburst from her mother had become so commonplace, she didn't bother getting out of bed anymore when hearing them. It was a different sound Mary awoke to this time, it was a guttural moan, a cry from her father. Hearing him call out for her, she ran quickly down the stairs to his study to find him sunken into his favorite chair. The dark-red blood was covering his clothes as well as the arms of his chair. The crimson fluid crept across the floor, moving in synch with each remaining pulse. The knife used to slash his wrists lay on the floor beside him, the blade glistening with the crimson moisture. This moment of terror withdrew her will from her, her body rigid and cold out of fright. All she could manage was to stand there, looking at him. Her young mind processed the scene, she felt as if hours passed before the footman appeared. Entering the room through the main double doors, he found Mary and her father alone in the room. His eyes observed the young girl in peril, staring directly at her father's corpse. No one else was in the house but Mary, her mother, her father, and now the footman.

Mary's mother, so uncharacteristically, had given the staff leave for the impending holiday. It was unlike her mother to be so kind and giving, especially during the holidays when there was so much work to be done. The footman had remained on the premises unbeknownst to the matron of the house. He quietly remained out of sight in the stables without comment to anyone about his plan to stay on the estate. With nowhere else he needed or wanted to be, he chose to remain close to his love during the holiday season. Not speaking of this to either the owners or his work companions allowed him the secrecy required to stay near her.

The large house felt empty and somewhat scary without the servants on site. Mary did not like it when she was home alone with her mother; she preferred the company of her caretaker, Sarah. Sarah treated Mary as if she was her own child, providing her love and compassion, emotions devoid from her mother. There had been occasions when Sarah's children would accompany Sarah to work, helping cook in the kitchen, and assisting with the daily chores. The others, being close to her age, created a curiosity in Mary. She thought it odd they did not dress like her or enjoy afternoon tea. The daily rituals Mary partook in were a part of life, she assumed everyone lived the same as she. Mary was intrigued by Sarah's kids and why they had to perform manual labor at her house. Even though they were completely opposite of her, Mary enjoyed the children being in her home. Engaging with them, she discovered they were content in the kitchen with their mother and the cook, this beguiled Mary. There was a sense of warmth and, often, jeers of laughter would erupt. Behaviors such as these were not allowed in Mary's world as everything was to be orderly and pristine at all times, no matter the circumstances.

Mary studied ballet and dance with a local teacher who in her younger days performed as a principal ballerina in a touring ballet company. From 9 a.m. until 1 p.m., every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, lessons were provided to Mary at their home. When Sarah's kids were at the house, Mary would sneak them up to the second-floor ballroom and dance with them, translating what she had learned from her dance master into movements they would follow. She would have the girls wear hats from her closet and spin around the room, ribbons flowing around and beyond their shoulders, creating a halo of color floating around the room. When the opportunity arose, Mary would steal a hat from her dad's hat rack in his study and hide it in the ballroom. She commanded the boys to wear her father's hats when they entered the hall, she taught them to remove them and bow to the girls when they filed into the ballroom. Mary called these regular events with her young friends, cotillions. She didn't really understand the concept she had witnessed with her family every spring but loved the spirit of the music being played, with the men in tuxedos and women in ball gowns adorned with beautiful jewelry, enhancing their natural female ornamentation. Mary watched these events with awe, assuming she would spend the rest of her life dancing. Her studies with the former ballerina showed great promise for Mary. When she performed in public at the local theater in recitals, she always received a standing ovation. It was never clear if the acclaim was based on her talent or on her family's money. Never-the-less, she adored the stage and hoped to one day show the world her gifted toe shoes. Before being dismissed for bed by her father at the spring dances, he always requested Waltz Brilliance be played by the orchestra. This was his and Mary's special dance. Anyone attending the parties at the estate more than once knew the unique nature between these two. With the first downbeat from the conductor, the dance floor would clear allowing her and her father to have their special dance alone. The guests left to admire the lovely couple spinning around the room. This was her special time with her father, an unbreakable bond created that would never leave her. Oh, how she loved to dance, especially with her father.

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