AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When he looked up, she was gone. He stared at the closed door to her bedchamber, wondering what had possibly gone wrong between them in the last twenty-four hours, and how he could begin to make it right again.
* * *
Marion stared down at the letter in her hand, her fingers shaking in fear. She had tried to put the first letter from her mind, had hidden it away, had reassured herself that it would probably come to nothing and that perhaps the first letter was a fake, meant to scare her. She had told herself, over and over again, that her true father was, in all likelihood, dead somewhere. If he weren’t,he would have surely known of her mother’s great acquaintance with Eleanor’s mother and would have certainly come back for money before now.
Still, even with all of these assurances, the first letter burned at her, and every night when she climbed into bed she couldn’t stop herself taking it out and re-reading it secretly, anxiously unfolding it, nervous that Simon would somehow hear the crinkling paper in the other room. Now, a second letter had arrived. Marion laid it out on her writing table alongside the first and read it through once more.
For the attention of Marion Burfield, Countess of Reading
My dear daughter, you try my patience. I cannot believe that a child of mine would be so disagreeable toward their own father. I had hoped that the years apart would make you more inclined towards helping your absent but loving parent, but it seems you have all the bitterness of your mother and I am forced to be as plain as possible.
If you do not respond to my correspondence, I shall be forced to extreme measures. Clearly the threat of my introduction to your friends and acquaintances was not a strong enough incentive for you to open your purse, so now I must induce you with the only remaining incitement: if you do not reply to me and agree to meet me privately then I shall make arrangements for an assault on the person of the Earl of Reading.
I do not make such comments lightly. I am not a violent man, but the circumstances of my finances dictate that I must use all of my potential and resources to secure for myself a better future. I am sure that my only child will assist me in this manner. I would advise you to think carefully about your course of action, so you do not regret your decision.
Your Father,
Mr Ted Laurie.
Marion took a deep breath, blowing out her cheeks as she re-read the letter again slowly, really trying to take in every word, but she couldn’t get her mind beyond his threat to Simon. The idea of Simon being hurt in any way, of him suffering at the hands of her father, was entirely unbearable. It was so overwhelming that Marion stood up abruptly, pacing around her room and rubbing her hand over the back of her neck, agitated. She tried to calm herself but it almost felt like her lips and fingers were going slightly numb with panic. She shook her hands, clenching them tightly as she paced, desperately trying to think of what to do.
“OhMaman,what shall I do?”Marion murmured, instinctively pressing her palms together in a motion of prayer, as she often did when she thought about her mother. She couldn’t imagine what her mother would have thought of this situation—she had left no words of wisdom to deal with this hard man who claimed to be her father.
Marion tried to consider her options, but ultimately, she knew she had been left without a choice. She was incapable of putting Simon in any danger.She cared for him so deeply, so ardently, that she wasn’t even able to lie in the same bed with him and hold this secret from him. She knew that simply being intimate with him, being open and loving beneath his touch, would be too much for her. She would break down and reveal it all, and she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t lie in his bed and lie to him about something so important.
She knew he would ask why she was withdrawn if he had the chance, and how could she tell him the truth? Keeping a secret was one thing, lying was a betrayal of the spirit of their wedding vows, and she would not do that. The best thing would be if Marion could manage to get rid of her father, perhaps with a single buy-off of a sum that she could write off as a dress purchase on the household bills. Then Simon would be safe and he would never need to know about it.
Either way, Marion knew she had to do the unthinkable and agree to meet this terrible man. She sat back down and set pen to paper, writing a short missive of agreement and suggesting a meeting in a public garden in central London where she knew it would busy. Then she sealed it with her new, rubber seal of the Earldom of Reading and then scribbled the address on the front. Done with this task, she called for Loretta.
“Yes, Milady?”
“Loretta, I must ask you to do an errand for me, a - a private errand,” Marion said, looking up into her maid’s face.
“Yes, Milady, of course.” Loretta had been worried about her mistress, and Marion could tell. Loretta had been gentle and tender, brushing Marion’s hair with special softness and bringing her extra treats and sweets throughout the day, even offering to give Marion a head rub on one of the days Marion had proclaimed to have a headache.
“I must ask you to take this letter to the post office privately,” Marion said, setting the letter in Loretta’s hands along with a ha’penny for the post.
“You wish me to post a letter, Milady?” Loretta looked at the unfamiliar address curiously.
“I do,” Marion said. “And you can’t tell anyone that you have gone to the post office, you must tell them that you have gone to the haberdasheries instead.”
“Of course, Milady.”
Marion trusted Loretta, but she knew that if she was to really cover her tracks, she needed to ensure every communication her father might try to have with her was monitored. It was already possible that Simon had noticed the strange letters coming into the house, or even Hughes or Mrs Bolton might have taken note of it. She had to ensure that didn’t happen again.
“You will tell the postman to hold any letters that come to me at the post office,” Marion said, speaking slowly so she could make sure Loretta had understood it all, and then repeating it in French for good measure. “And for the next few days, when you go to the village, you must collect my letters and bring them back only to me. And you must not tell anyone you have been going to the post office.”
“Of course, Milady.” Loretta frowned slightly. “But Mrs Bolton shall ask where I am going these mornings to the post office. I cannot always be buying ribbon.”
“Here,” Marion pulled out her pair of gloves that had a slight hole worn through them. “Take these today and then say each day I have sent you to check on the gloves.”
Loretta nodded eagerly. “That shall be easy, Milady. The boy at the shop is well-known for making mistakes, so Mrs Bolton shall easily believe it. It shall not be hard. Am I to look for a particular address?”
“No,” Marion said. She did not want to give Loretta too much information. “Just bring all the mail back to me.”
“Of course, Milady.” Marion nodded firmly. “Shall I go now, Milady?”
“Yes please, Loretta.”
