A Loveless Marriage

Chapter 20: Mary

The warmth of his body kept me in a cosy daze, even as the cold dawn light nagged me to rise.  I watched him as he slept, tenderly stroking a stray hair from his forehead and marvelling at how peaceful he was when he was asleep. I was not peaceful, a thousand emotions raged beneath my breast.   Last night had changed everything, I was no longer just married to Fred, I'd become his wife.

I glanced around the room, shamefully aware of my nakedness under the sheets.  My dress had been placed carefully on the chair, but my petticoat, combination suit and corset had been scattered across the room as our carelessness had grown with our passion.  Shame flooded me as I remembered how I had surrendered to my every desire.  I feared Fred would think less of me after I had consumed pleasure so greedily, I had not acted like a lady. 

Quietly, I slipped from his bed  to dress.   It was impossible to button up without a maid but at least I was no longer naked.  Half-dressed and hair loose, I slipped across the hall, praying breathlessly the servants did not see me in such disarray. Once in my room, I blushed at the sight of my untouched bed and the nightgown laid starkly out on it.  I hurriedly changed into my nightgown and laid down in between the sheets to disguise the fact I had not slept in it.  I became aware of the tenderness between my thighs, ashamed of my enjoyment of something base and forbidden.  I needed to be clean but I was too embarrassed to ring for my maid, I dreaded the knowing glint in her eye.

I turned on the taps and poured an excessive amount of bath salts in the water.  On my journey to London, I'd been conflicted about admitting I loved Fred to my mother.  The conductor had furnished me with a newspaper, I'd read the gossip column and the Police Recorder to distract myself, aware that new of Mr Balfour's Tariff Reforms would not provide the fascination I needed.  There was a jolt as I saw Fred's name in the Police Recorder, arrested for being drunk and disorderly. I felt like it could be my escape, that I could see him in the dock and be revolted, but instead I'd found it rather endearing.  What I love fool I had become.

I'd gone to his room intending to confess, to tell him that I'd missed him, that I loved him.  But when the moment came, I was too scared to give him my heart, and instead gave him the one thing he wanted. My body.

After my bath, I'd summoned the courage to ring for my lady's maid and dressed smartly for a stroll around the city.  Walking was good for my figure, I reasoned, and a walk would clear my mind.  My wanderings took me to a familiar area and I realised I was not far from Agatha Chorley's house.  I wanted to see her.

I steeled myself as I pressed the doorbell, handed my  calling card to the startled butler and waiting for the hushed words "Regrettably, madam is not at home."  Those words never came.

          "This way Miss Ta-, Mrs Wilkes," the Butler said, evidently to surprise of us both.  "Miss Chorley is in the conservatory."

I stepped into the heady floral perfume of the conservatory.

        "Mrs Frederick Wilkes," he announced.

Miss Agatha arranged herself in the chair with a haughty expression I knew all too well.  The familiarity brought me comfort.  Besides her sat a stranger, my replacement I supposed, a timid-looking woman in her early forties with mousy hair and a nervous smile. 

     "Sit down there," she said pointing to the chair often reserved for the most exalted guests.  "Hetty will ring for tea, that is at least something she is capable of doing."

The unfortunate Hetty fluttered like a bird and rang for the maid.

   "So, you are back?" Agatha said.

  "I arrived in Town yesterday," I replied.

  "I meant back here, in my house," she said with a hint of excitement.  "I suppose that rotten husband of yours..."