Mary was polite but distracted at dinner, and Colin must have noticed. He asked Mary what was bothering her in a low voice as the party waited for dessert to be served.
Mary wasn't about to tell her cousin that she was imagining her secret assignation with Dickon. "Lord Ramsey practically accosted me before dinner and told me Dickon was too poor for me to be in love with. Apparently he finds there to be something terribly immoral about coal mines, too. He positively stewed about Dickon's father going near one. I think he's got them confused with brothels."
Colin, who had unfortunately been taking a sip of wine about the same time that Mary whispered her response, choked with laughter, very nearly spitting it out all over the table, unless Mary was mistaken. As soon as he was able to recover, however, his face grew grave. "I'm a fool. I apologize for inviting him, Mary. I should have known better than to issue him any kind of invitation. He was standing right beside Allanby when I invited him and his wife—it just seemed the polite thing to extend the invitation to Ramsey. But I never thought he would accost you. I'll ask him to leave."
"No," Mary said. She placed a restraining hand on Colin's arm so he could not get up. "I want him to stay. It would only cause talk if he left in the middle of the visit."
"But Mary, he's offended me as well as you. He took advantage of my hospitality," Colin said.
"By all means, don't invite him back," Mary said. She glanced across the table at Ramsey. He appeared to be deep conversation with Mrs. Allanby. "But please don't disgrace me by bring all of this up again. It will only remind everyone that he once told half of London he was going to make me his wife."
"If you're worried about talk, you must know that your eventual engagement to a man with a humble background will cause more talk than anything that happened between you and Ramsey," Colin said.
"If I must live forever in infamous gossip, and I suppose many people, including Mrs. Medlock, would not be surprised if I did, than I would rather it be for something noble, like love, than for Ramsey's lies and conceit," Mary whispered. "Besides, I've always loved Dickon and his whole family. I refuse to be ashamed of people so far above many of the aristocrats I've met in the past."
"But Ramsey's attitude is likely to be quite common," Colin said.
"Yes, in London. I hate it there, and will not be at all unhappy to be shunned by any or all of the toffs, as Dickon used to call them," Mary said.
Colin chuckled again. "I confess my scientific pursuits have left me with more 'common' friends than aristocratic ones. And it is hard to credit that many of those born into privilege seem to think that they are better than everyone else, just because of an accident of birth."
Mary looked at Colin in confusion. "But Colin, you were just warning me about malicious gossip, and implying that I was distancing myself from my peers. I don't understand."
"Call it an experiment. I've recently started to dabble in psychology. The inner workings of the human mind, you see," Colin said.
Mary was not pleased by the twinkle in her cousin's eye, or the fact that he had taken to playing with her inner thoughts, but then the long awaited dessert arrived and Mary forgot to be angry.
Soon the guests were repairing to the parlor for games and conversation. A party had never dragged so for Mary before. She could think of all kinds of ways to thank Dickon for being exactly who he was. She wished she could plead a headache and wait the party out from her room, but she didn't want to worry Dickon, or give Ramsey the satisfaction of chasing her out of her own home.
Instead, she sought out Mrs. Allanby. She had never had the chance to tell her that she was welcome to borrow one of her dresses for the following evening.
Her eyes scanned the room and she saw that Mrs. Allanby was again speaking with Ramsey. Mary pursed her lips. She had just decided not to allow Ramsey to chase her away. She approached the pair and asked to speak with Mrs. Allanby. Ramsey appeared only too happy to distance himself from Mary.
"Is he not the most handsome man you've ever met?" Mrs. Allanby asked.
"There are more important things than looks," Mary answered primly. "Besides, I did not interrupt your conversation to speak to you about Lord Ramsey. I simply wanted to offer you the loan of any evening wear from my wardrobe that you wish for the duration of your stay."
Mrs. Allanby's eyes lit up. "Truly? You are by far the kindest hostess I have ever encountered."
"My wardrobe is simply much bigger than your trunk—so of course I have many more dresses at my disposal. It would be a shame for you to feel uncomfortable while my dresses sit together in a smug crowd in the dark wardrobe."
Mrs. Allanby laughed, and they both joined a card game, which made the hours until all the guests left pass tolerably quickly.
Finally the last guest ascended the stairs, and Mary pretended stay below to check to make sure all the candles were extinguished. In reality, she took the shawl she had hidden in her uncle's study and left the house through the French doors.
Mary smiled to herself, remembering all the times in her life she had snuck off to the secret garden. She had gone when she was confused, sad, depressed, and ecstatic with joy. At times the garden almost seemed like a pillow she could cry into—or a way to turn all her frustration and loneliness into something beautiful.
The night air was crisp, and the moon was so bright she could have seen the uneven rocks in the path if she had chosen to look down. She didn't bother stepping carefully; her path was well known to her and she could have avoided any missteps by memory alone in the darkest night.
She found Dickon by her favorite rosebush. He placed a warm hand along her cool cheek and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Brave Mary. I heard what you said to Ramsey. Those comments won't stop, you know. And they won't all be from people you can't respect."
"I like my life here, in this village. The people here respect both of us. I've made a some friends in my life outside of this village, who may support our choices. They may not. That's up to them. I can only do what makes me happy," Mary said. She shivered, and then put her arms around Dickon, wrapping the both of them in her shawl.
"I love thee," Dickon said. He kissed Mary again, his lips warm and solid. Mary kissed him back firmly, feeling a tingle of pleasure and warmth suffuse through her entire body.
Mary tightened her grip on Dickon's shoulders, feeling his strength and the tautness of his muscles below her hands. She moved her lips to his cheek, inhaling his scent and savoring his nearness. "I love thee," she replied, "More than tha' knows."
A strange noise suddenly came to Mary's attention. "Was that a giggle?" she whispered.
"Shhh," Dickon said.
He pulled Mary into a shadowed corner, and they saw Lord Ramsey and Mrs. Allanby stumble into the clearing.
"They're drunk!" Mary whispered.
"Shhh," Dickon breathed against her ear.
"Kiss me, Anne," Ramsey said. Mary scrunched up her nose. His tone was more demanding than romantic. Apparently Ramsey hadn't changed since his proposal to her.
"I'm married," Mrs. Allanby said, but she giggled again and unsteadily placed a chaste kiss Lord Ramsey's lips.
Ramsey grabbed her as she pulled away and gave her a proper kiss.
Mary felt as though he was taking advantage of Anne Allanby. She wasn't exactly thinking clearly, from the way she was swaying. She looked at Dickon. "She's too foxed to know what she's doing. We have to say something. I'll take Anne back to the house."
"And have Ramsey telling everyone you were here alone with me?" Dickon whispered back. "I can't expose you to that. I'll pretend I was out here alone."
"I could have been out here alone—" Mary began, but Dickon placed a finger on her lips.
"Lord knows what the man would do or say to you in his current condition. Let me handle this," Dickon said.
Without waiting for a reply Dickon coughed loudly and strolled out into the clearing, appearing to have not seen the couple embracing in the centre of the path.
"Were you out enjoying the moonlight?" Ramsey asked as soon as he had untangled himself from his amorous embrace.
"Just clearin' my head. Had a bit too much wine. What're you doin' here?" Dickon was slurring his words in a way that Mary found oddly adorable. She had to struggle not to laugh.
"We—err—we lost our way outside. We came to clear our heads, too. Colin has a potent cellar," Ramsey said. Mary noticed he seemed much more sober now than he had a moment ago. The cad. He had probably pretended to drink while Anne got soused.
"Well, I suppose I'd better show you the way back to the manor. I know it well," Dickon said. He offered Anne his arm and she accepted it, apparently gratefully, swaying slightly with every step as they walked towards the door to the garden with Ramsey following closely behind.
Mary sighed. She had thought tonight they could finally steal more than a few moments together. Everything had been right. The moonlight, the garden, the feel of her arms around him…It was enough to make her consider taking all guest rooms out of her future home.
"Bother!" she exclaimed aloud, wrapping her shawl more tightly around herself. She'd been so warm just minutes ago.