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I do not own Merlin or the characters, neither do I own An Offer From A Gentleman.
Just three or four more chapter left...
LADY MIDDLETON'S SOCIETY PAPERS, 11 JUNE 1817
While we are on the topic, Miss Farthington's mother, the Countess Calliope of Penwood, has also been acting very strange of late. According to servants' gossip, which we all know is always the most reliable sort, the countess threw quite the tantrum last night, hurling no fewer than seventeen shoes at her servants.
One footman sports a bruised eye, but other than that, all remain in good health.
Within an hour, Gwen had her bag packed. She didn't know what else to do. She was gripped...painfully gripped...by nervous energy, and she could not sit still.
Her feet kept moving and her hands were shaking, and every few minutes, she found herself taking a big spontaneous gulp of air, as if the extra breath could somehow calm her inside.
She could not imagine that she would be allowed to remain here in Lady Pendragon's household, after such a horrible falling-out with Arthur.
Lady Pendragon was fond of her, it was true, but Arthur was her son. Blood really was thicker than just about anything else, especially when it was Pendragon blood.
It was sad, really, she thought as she sat down on her bed, her hands still torturing a hopelessly mangled handkerchief. For all her inner turmoil over Arthur, she'd liked living in the Pendragon household.
She had never before had the honour of living amongst a group of people who truly understood the meaning of the word family...
She would miss them.
She would miss Arthur.
And she would mourn the life she could not have.
Unable to sit still, she jumped back to her feet and walked to the window.
"Damn you, Papa!" she said, looking up at the skies. "There. I've called you Papa. You never let me do that. You never wanted to be that." She gasped convulsively, using the back of her hand to wipe at her nose. "I've called you Papa. How does it feel?"
But there was no sudden clap of thunder, or no gray cloud appearing out of nowhere to cover up the sun.
Her father would never know how angry she was with him for leaving her penniless and leaving her with the countess.
Most likely, he wouldn't have cared.
She felt rather weary all of a sudden, so she leaned against the window frame, rubbing her eyes with her hand.
"You gave me a taste of another life," she whispered. "And then left me in the wind. It would've been so much easier if I'd been raised a servant. I wouldn't have wanted so much. And it would've been easier."
She turned back around, her eyes falling upon her single, meager bag... She hadn't wanted to take any of the dresses that Lady Pendragon and her daughters had given her, but she'd had little choice in the matter, as her old dresses had already been relegated to the rag bin.
So, she chose only two...the same number with which she'd arrived... The one she happened to be wearing when Arthur had discovered her identity, and a spare, which she'd tucked in the bag.
The rest had been left hanging, neatly pressed, in the wardrobe.
Gwen sighed, closing her eyes for a moment... It was time to go. Where, she didn't know, but she couldn't stay here.
She leaned down and picked up the bag. She had a little money saved. Not much, but if she worked and was frugal, she'd have enough funds for passage to somewhere else within a year.
She'd heard of places where things were easier there for those of less-than-respectable birth... Places where the boundaries of class weren't quite as strict as they were here in London.
She poked her head out into the hall, which was blessedly vacant. She knew she was a coward, but she didn't want to have to say good-bye to the Pendragon daughters.
She might do something really stupid, like cry, and then she'd feel even worse.
Never in her life had she had the chance to spend time with women of her own age who treated her with respect and affection.
She'd once hoped that Victoria and Penelope would be her sisters, but that had never come to pass. Penelope might have tried, but the countess wouldn't allow it.
And poor Penelope, for all her sweetness, had never been strong enough to stand up to her mother.
But Gwen did have to bid farewell to Lady Pendragon... There was no getting around that.
The lady had been kind to her far beyond any expectations, and she would not thank her by sneaking out and disappearing like some criminal.
If she was lucky, she would not yet have heard of her altercation with Arthur... That way, she could give her notice, bid her farewell, and be off.
It was late afternoon, well past tea time, so Gwen decided to take a chance and see if Lady Pendragon was in the small office she kept off of her bedchamber.
It was a warm and cozy little room, with a writing desk and several bookshelves...a place where Lady Pendragon penned her correspondence and settled the household accounts.
The door was ajar, so she knocked softly, allowing the door to swing open a few inches as her knuckles connected with the wood.
"Enter!" came Lady Pendragon's bidding.
Gwen pushed the door open and poked her head in.
"Am I interrupting?" she asked quietly.
Lady Pendragon set down her quill.
"Yes, but it's a welcome interruption. I've never enjoyed balancing the household accounts."
"I would..." Gwen bit her tongue. She had been about to say that she would've been happy to take over the task, since she'd always been good with numbers.
"You were saying?" Lady Pendragon asked, her eyes warm.
Gwen gave her head a little shake.
"Nothing."
The room lapsed into silence until Lady Pendragon gave her a slightly amused smile, and asked,
"Was there a specific reason you knocked on my door?"
Gwen took a deep breath that was meant to settle her nerves, but didn't and said,
"Yes."
Lady Pendragon looked at her expectantly but didn't say anything.
"I'm afraid I must resign my position here," she said.
At that, Lady Pendragon actually rose out of her seat.
"But why? Aren't you happy? Have any of the girls been mistreating you?"
"No, no," Gwen hastened to assure her. "That couldn't be further from the truth. Your daughters are so lovely...in heart as well as in appearance. I've never... That is to say, no one has ever..."
"What is it, Gwen?"
Gwen clutched at the doorframe, desperately trying to find her balance... Her legs felt unsteady... Her heart felt unsteady...
Any moment now she was going to burst into tears, and why?
Because the man she loved would never marry her?
Because he hated her for lying to him?
Because he'd broken her heart twice...once by asking her to be his mistress and again by making her love his family and then forcing her to leave?
He might not have demanded that she go, but it couldn't have been more obvious that she could not stay.
"It's Arthur, isn't it?"
Gwen's head snapped up.
Lady Pendragon smiled sadly.
"It's obvious that there is some feeling between you," she said gently, answering the question that Gwen knew must show in her eyes.
"Why didn't you fire me?" she whispered. She didn't think that Lady Pendragon knew that her and Arthur had been intimate, but no one of the Lady's position would want her son pining for a housemaid.
"I don't know," Lady Pendragon replied, looking more conflicted than Gwen could've ever imagined. "I probably should've done so." She shrugged, her eyes strangely helpless. "But I like you."
At that, the tears Gwen had been working so hard to keep in check began to roll down her face, but beyond that, she somehow managed to keep her composure.
She didn't shake and she didn't make a sound. She just stood there, utterly still, as the tears came forth.
When Lady Pendragon spoke again, her words held a very careful and measured quality, as if she was choosing them with great care, searching for a specific reply.
"You are..." she started, her eyes never leaving Gwen's face. "...the sort of woman I would like for my son. Our acquaintance has not been a long one, but I know your character and I know your heart. And I wish..."
A small, choked sob burst forth from Gwen's mouth, but she swallowed it down as quickly as she could.
"I wish that you were of a different background," Lady Pendragon continued, acknowledging Gwen's cry with a sympathetic tilt of her head and a sad, slow blink of her eyes. "Not that I hold such a thing against you, or think the less of you, but it makes things very difficult."
"Impossible," Gwen whispered.
To that, Lady Pendragon didn't say anything, and Gwen knew in her heart that she agreed...if not completely...mostly with her assessment.
"Is it possible," Lady Pendragon asked, her words even more measured and careful than before. "That your background is not quite what it seems?"
Gwen said nothing.
"There are things about you that don't add up, Gwen."
At this point, Gwen knew that she expected her to ask what, but she had a fair idea what the lady meant.
"Your accent is impeccable," Lady Pendragon said. "I know you told me that you had lessons with the children your mother worked for, but that doesn't seem like enough of an explanation to me. Those lessons wouldn't have started until you were a bit older...six at the very earliest...and your speech patterns would have already been rather set by that point."
Gwen felt her eyes widen. She'd never seen that particular hole in her story, and she was rather surprised that no one else had until now.
But then again, Lady Pendragon was a good deal smarter than most of the people to whom she had told her fabricated history.
"And you know Latin," Lady Pendragon continued. "Don't try to deny it. I heard you muttering under your breath the other day when Morgana vexed you."
Gwen kept her gaze fixed firmly on the window just to the lady's left. She couldn't quite bring herself to meet her eyes.
"Thank you for not denying it," Lady Pendragon said. And then she waited for Gwen to say something...
She waited so long that finally, Gwen had to fill the interminable silence...
"I'm not a suitable match for your son," was all she said.
"I see."
"I really have to go." She had to get the words out quickly, before she changed her mind.
Lady Pendragon nodded.
"If that is your wish, there is nothing I can do to stop you. Where is it you plan to go?"
"I have relatives in the north," she lied.
Lady Pendragon clearly didn't believe her, but she answered,
"You will, of course, use one of our carriages."
"No, I couldn't possibly."
"You can't think I would permit you to do otherwise. I consider you to be my responsibility...at least for the next few days... And it is far too dangerous for you to leave unescorted. It's not safe for women alone in this world."
Gwen couldn't quite suppress a rueful smile... Lady Pendragon's tone might be different, but her words were almost exactly those uttered by Arthur a few weeks earlier.
And look where that had gotten her...
She would never say that she and Lady Pendragon were close friends, but she knew her well enough to know that she would not be budged on this issue.
"Very well," she acceded. "Thank you."
She could have the carriage drop her off somewhere, preferably not too far, where she could eventually book a passage to some other place, and then decide where to go from there.
Lady Pendragon offered Gwen a small, sad smile.
"I assume you already have your bags packed?"
She nodded. It didn't seem necessary to point out that she only had one bag.
"Have you said all of your good-byes?"
She shook her head.
"I'd rather not," she admitted.
Lady Pendragon stood and nodded.
"Sometimes that is best," she agreed. "Why don't you await me in the front hall? I will see to having a coach brought round."
Gwen turned and started to walk out, but when she reached the doorway, she stopped and turned around.
"Lady Pendragon, I..."
The older lady's eyes lit up, as if she was expecting some good news. Or if not good, then at least something different.
"Yes?"
Gwen swallowed...
"I just wanted to thank you."
The light in Lady Pendragon's eyes dimmed a little.
"Whatever for?"
"For having me here, for accepting me, and allowing me to pretend I was a part of your family."
"Don't be sil..."
"You didn't have to let me take tea with you and the girls," Gwen interrupted. If she didn't get this all out now, she'd lose her courage. "Most women wouldn't have done. It was lovely... And new... And..." She gulped. "I will miss you all."
"You don't have to go," Lady Pendragon said softly.
Gwen tried to smile, but it came out all wobbly. And it tasted like tears.
"Yes," she said, almost choking on the word. "I do."
Lady Pendragon stared at her for a very long moment, her pale blue eyes filled with compassion and then maybe a touch of realization.
"I see," she said quietly.
And Gwen feared that she did see.
"I'll meet you downstairs," Lady Pendragon said.
She nodded as she stood aside to let the dowager viscountess pass. But the lady paused in the hallway to look down at her well-worn bag.
"Is that all you have?" she asked.
"Everything in the world."
Lady Pendragon swallowed uncomfortably, and her cheeks took on the slightest hue of pink, almost as if she was actually embarrassed by her riches... And Gwen's lack thereof.
"But that..." Gwen started, motioning to the bag. "...that's not what's important. What you have..." She stopped and swallowed, doing battle with the lump in her throat. "I don't mean what you own..."
"I know what you mean, Gwen." Lady Pendragon dabbed at her eyes with her fingers. "Thank you."
Gwen's shoulders rose and fell in a tiny shrug.
"It's the truth."
"Let me give you some money before you go, Gwen," Lady Pendragon blurted out.
Gwen shook her head.
"I couldn't. I've already taken two of the dresses you gave me. I didn't want to, but..."
"It's all right," the lady assured her. "What else could you do? The ones you came with are gone. You do know you could have taken all, don't you? "
Gwen shook her head.
"I...I just couldn't..."
Lady Pendragon cleared her throat.
"Then please, let me give you some money." She saw Gwen open her mouth to protest and said, "Please. It would make me feel better."
Lady Pendragon had a way of looking at a person that truly made one want to do as she asked.
She was a generous lady and besides that, Gwen really did need the money. She found herself saying, "Thank you," before her conscience had a chance to grapple with the offer.
Lady Pendragon gave her a brief nod and disappeared down the hall.
Gwen took a long, shaky breath, then picked up her bag and walked slowly down the stairs.
She waited in the foyer for a moment, then decided she might as well wait outside.
It was a fine spring day and she thought that a bit of sun on her nose might be just the thing to make her feel better.
Well, at least a little bit better... Besides, she'd be less likely to run into one of the Pendragon daughters.
And much as she was going to miss them, she just didn't want to have to say good-bye.
Still clutching her bag in one hand, she pushed open the front door and descended the steps...
It shouldn't take too long for the coach to be brought around. Five minutes, maybe ten, maybe...
"Guinevere Roberts!"
Gwen's stomach dropped right down to her ankles...
It was the countess Calliope...
How could she have forgotten?
Frozen into inaction, she looked around and up the stairs, trying to figure out which way to flee. If she ran back into the Pendragon house, the countess would know where to find her.
And if she took off on foot...
"Constable!" the countess shrieked. "I want a constable!"
At that, Gwen dropped her bag and took off running.
"Someone stop her!" the countess screamed. "Stop thief! Stop thief!"
Poor Gwen, she kept running, even though she knew it would make her look guilty.
She ran with every last fiber in her muscles... With every gulp of air she could force into her lungs...
She ran and she ran and she ran...
Until someone tackled her, thumping into her back and knocking her to the ground.
"I got her!" the man yelled. "I got her for you!"
Gwen blinked and gasped at the pain. Her head had hit the pavement with a stunning blow, and the man who had caught her was practically sitting on her abdomen.
"There you are!" the countess crowed as she hurried over. "Guinevere Roberts. The nerve!"
Gwen glared at her... Words didn't exist to express the loathing in her heart. Not to mention, that she was in too much pain to speak.
"I've been looking for you," the countess said, smiling evilly. "Penelope told me she'd seen you."
Gwen closed her eyes for a longer than the usual blink. She thought of poor Penelope...
She doubted that she'd meant to give her away, but the girl's tongue had a way of getting ahead of her mind...
The countess planted her foot very close to Gwen's hand... the one that was being held immobile by her captor's fingers around her wrist...then smiled as she moved her foot onto her hand.
"You shouldn't have stolen from me," she said, her blue eyes glinting.
Gwen just grunted. It was all she could manage.
"You see," the countess continued gleefully. "Now I can have you thrown in jail. I suppose I could've done so before, but now I have the truth on my side."
Just then, a man ran up, skidding to a halt before the countess...
"The authorities are on the way, milady. We'll have this thief taken away in no time."
Gwen caught her lower lip between her teeth, torn between praying that the authorities would be delayed until Lady Pendragon came outside, and praying that they'd come right away, so that the Pendragons would never see her shame.
And in the end, she got her wish... The latter one, that was.
Not two minutes later the authorities arrived, threw her into a wagon and carted her off to jail.
And all she could think of as she rode away, was that the Pendragons would never know what had happened to her...
And maybe that was for the best.
Like before, no chance of reading over these days. I'm working seven days a week, so forgive any extreme mistakes or character name mix-ups.
Happy New Year to all! I wish you a year filled with happiness, love, great health and prosperity.
Stay safe!