“You should know by now that mother and I are always in cahoots.”
***
When Mary arrived back at her house, she knew that it wasn’t her home. She was floundering, but she also knew that she didn’t want to cry.
Conventionally, servants would empty the luggage, but Mary needed a fairly mindless activity as well as something to keep her hands busy to prevent any deep thinking, so she spent some time unpacking her trunks. The chores took far less time than she hoped. When she was done, she rested herself down on her bed. She felt alone and defeated.
Instead of processing any of her thoughts or feelings, she went to work. She tweaked the last few lines of her play and edited it until she believed it was perfect. Then she read it again and wanted to throw it all in the fire. Only Margaret’s enthusiasm for it prevented her from turning it to ash.
And then she received a letter.
It was from her parents. She had been irregular at best in sending missives to her parents, so this was a welcomed initiative.
Our Darling Daughter, Mary,
Today we have received an overdue reward for the risk we took in traveling. Our team has excavated several stone plates with hieroglyphics that your mother and I will now puzzle over for weeks with utter delight; despite, in all probability, never solving the mystery.
I shall keep this missive short but to tell you so you might share in our celebration as well as feel inspired to be the woman you are meant to be.
Perhaps the unexpected timing of this discovery has instilled a notion of mawkish sentimentality within us, but we feel compelled to tell you that you must live your life. Of course we had hopes of you marrying next season, but you must know that we love you dearly no matter how you choose to live your life. We only want the best for you. Though we think we know what that is, only you truly do.
Mary promised herself she wouldn’t cry. But that was over Gregory, so she allowed herself a release of emotion over the letter from her parents.
Then she finally permitted herself time and space to reflect.
In the first place, it was a triumph in and of itself to determine what one desired in life.
Second, it was an utter victory to simply pursue that.
And finally, it was an abundant joy to achieve one’s desires.
Mary could check off the first step as she had identified two clear desires in her life right now: the play, and Gregory. Unfortunately, she felt powerless in pursuing at least one of those desires.
To think of life without Gregory was not an option. She would settle for an awkward friendship, but she desired more. There was no way to make someone love you, was there?
No, you couldn’t force someone’s heart to feel something. Gregory had been showing her that time and time again. He was willing to “teach” her about desire, but he wasn’t willing to be her desire. If he wasn’t willing, she didn’t want him. An unwilling husband would turn into a resentful husband, and that would turn into a suffocating and miserable life for both parties. She had seen what that life had done to others in theton.
She could play the docile wife, the perfect duchess that Gregory claimed he wanted, but then she would become the resentful party.
No, she had to live her life as fully as herself as possible. Just as her parents had encouraged her. There was pain with following your dreams. There were delays and sometimes no tangible rewards in pursuing your desires. But there was always the leap. The self-satisfaction that came from taking the leap. The fear of leaving the old behind and tearing into something new. Where would one land? The landing was out of her control. She could do everything in her power to square up, build up strength, determine her destination, and then leap.
But once one leapt, there was no turning around midair. Midair. Weightless. Free of the burdens of old, yet to be chained down to new. Midair was terrifying. Midair was glorious. And fundamentally, midair was transient.
She had taken the leap, and as cliche as it was to say to herself, only time would tell where she would land.
Chapter 18
Hopingtodraghimselfout of his recent drunken lapse, Gregory was working up the motivation to ride Apollo for some much needed clarity. He didn’t have the motivation yet, but seeing as how he wasn’t currently walking around with a bottle of whiskey in hand, he was well on his way.
Then motivation came in another form.
Gregory heard a small commotion coming from the front door and had made his way to investigate where he saw two of the most significant shocks of his life.
Shock one: Jonathan was standing inside his house.
Shock two: he was rubbing his cheek from having just been slapped by Margaret who was rushing away.
Utterly dumbfounded, Gregory had no top of mind recourse to take. His mind processed the scene before him. Jonathan, of that identity he had almost no doubt except that the man had been missing for three years, stood disheveled and bewildered. There was no mistaking the powerful jaw, deep set chocolate eyes and broad forehead. The caramel golden hues of his hair and stubble attested to this being the missing man.
