"But surely you didn't come all this way to confirm dinner" inquired Matthew.
Carson had advised her to tell Matthew. So he knew, in case something happened and then he would never know. That was why she had come. Mary paused; now that she was here and she had his attention doubt had crept in, softening her resolve.
He was with Lavinia now, he loved her, and she loved him. What right did she have unburdening herself to a man who was attached to another?
But she wanted him to know, she wanted him to understand that he hadn't been wrong, that she'd loved him always, that she would love him always. So he knew, in case the worst happened, in case he might never know.
She closed her eyes tightly and looked away briefly, fighting with herself.
Mary? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You must try not to worry so…
She looked up at him, expression neutral, concealing the battle waging between her heart and her head.
Matthew waited.
Finally, she whispered, "Regrets"
"Sorry?" Matthew queried, straining to hear.
Mary looked up and met his questioning eyes, and willed her heart to win out, saying softly, but unmistakably, "I wanted to speak to you of regrets"
Matthew paused, "regrets?" he repeated
Mary clarified, "my regrets", further, "I have regrets", willing herself to continue. "I have been unclear, I have left things misunderstood."
Matthew confused, encouraged her, "What has been misunderstood, whatever you mean?"
"I make no claim on you; I have no claim on you." She said resolutely. She continued, finding her voice and her conviction, "But war changes everything and I can't let you leave again without making it perfectly clear that I love you, I have loved you and I did love you."
Mary held Matthew's eyes for a moment before lowering them, not wanting to see pity or rejection or worse no response.
Matthew was speechless, his face reflecting a mix of changing emotions as he tried to formulate a response.
"Mary, I…" Matthew stammered eventually, desperately trying to gather his thoughts, contain his emotions. He struggled. Instead he pursued further clarification, "You spoke of regrets?" he questioned.
Behind him they heard Lavina calling from the door, "Luncheon is served Matthew", and Matthew turned and confirmed his understanding as Lavinia turned back inside.
Barely registering to whom he had just spoken, Matthew's attention turned back to Mary as he repeated, "Regrets?"
"Yes, always." She ached out. "Always… and now you know" and with that she strode past Matthew down the garden path.
Matthew tried to focus and organize his thoughts and emotions into a manageable list. I love you, I have loved you, and I did love you! Mary's voice rang out in an unending loop in his head. How he longed to hear those 3 words from her. Years of suppressed feelings bubbled up and he felt joy, happiness, and relief. And Lavinia, he remembered, and he was confused and frustrated.
He heart was racing, he was burning up, and he knew his face was flushed.
He took a few moments more to compose himself. Finally, managing to calm himself down, he went in for luncheon. He was careful to conceal his turmoil from Lavinia. Later he soothed himself, he would revisit this revelation and prepare his response.
Mary's brisk pace away from Matthew rivaled the pace of conflicting emotions rising up and demanding her attention. She felt exposed, humiliated, and sad and… hopeful.
Hopeful, no, she mustn't be. No expectations. It was impossible. She wanted him to know, just in case, she didn't want to add that to her growing pile of regrets.
He loved Lavinia, he was going to marry Lavinia.
Surely, Matthew understood that she was not desirous of a response; neither an affirmation, nor a confirmation or rejection. Didn't he?
He hadn't offered a rejection. She felt relief at that. He hadn't affirmed or confirmed. She was humiliated.
It was not an invitation, nor a query, it did not require a response. But still she was hopeful, hopefulness paid for with exposure and humiliation.