Right as Rain
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Gosford Park, this story is for entertainment purposes only!
Summary: It's been three months since the murder of Sir William McCordle, and Mary Maceachran thought that she would never see Robert Parks again, but fate has a funny way of taking people where they never thought they would go…
Authors Note: I love this movie, and I especially love the dynamic between Robert and Mary, this is my continuation of their story. Feel free to drop a review, constructive criticism is always appreciated. Thanks to Jessica, who was my beta for this story.
..&..
It was raining.
It had just started as Mary quickly crossed the street; she kept all her packages that her Ladyship Constance Trentham had asked her to pick up clutched tight to her chest. It had been nearly three months since their visit to Sir William McCordle's mansion, and his subsequent murder. Mary had kept a close eye on the papers— gathering them after Constance was finished with them. They were all kept in a drawer in her small dressing table by her bed.
There had been an article, a few days after they returned to the Trentham Estate, but the murder was unsolved, there had been no witnesses to the poisoning and no one had mentioned Robert Parks at all, it was simply stated that Sir William's murder was left open and unsolved.
Reading the article had left a strange feeling in Mary's gut, especially since what had happened that night after the murder. Just the thought of how bold she had been, walking into his room. She had seen him lying on his bed, with his book, and her heart had dropped somewhere into her stomach. But Mary had needed to know, needed to know that he hadn't killed Sir. William. And, in the end, he hadn't.
Mary let out a sigh, she had tried not to think about Robert Parks, though in the afternoons spent reading with Constance, or sitting with her in the garden outside, Mary's mind wondered. To moments spent at Sir. William's moments they had spent together. When he asked her name, no one there bothered to ask her name. One time they had gone for a short walk, just as Mary had a short reprieve after breakfast, it was just outside in the courtyard, they never got a chance to talk though, because just as their walk had started Constance had needed Mary's immediate attention.
Mary was thankful for her position with Constance; she knew she was blessed with the old woman. She got her own room, use of the horses in the stables and she also got an hour's free time in the afternoon when Constance went for her nap. Sometimes though Mary wondered how her life might be different if she wasn't a lady's maid. Perhaps nothing would be different, but then perhaps everything would be different.
Her Ladyship was on a visit to her town house in London for a week and a half. It was nearly a day's journey to the Estate out in Staffordshire, and both Mary and Constance were glad for holiday. Though Mary supposed, for her it wasn't much of a holiday. She still had to attend to her Ladyship's every command, and now she had to listen to Constance complain about everything the city had to offer: loud cars, too many people, too smoggy, too much of everything.
Mary found herself lost in these thoughts as she walked briskly down the sidewalk, she had her hood pulled up over her head but she knew that she would still be soaked through. Just think, she thought, tightening her arms around herself. If you hadn't been a lady's maid you would have never met Robert.
Robert...
The night after they had returned, Mary had unpacked her things, got changed climbed into bed and cried herself to sleep. Not simply because of the fact that she knew she would never see Robert Parks again, but she cried for him and Sir William and Robert's. She cried for everything, and for nothing, for joy and for sadness. When Mary woke up the next day she felt tired, but she also felt better. Mary always believed that a good cry did a world of good.
Stop thinking about it, about him, these fantasies aren't going to do you any good. They only made her depressed, and so as she rounded the corner to the next street she resolved to herself that she would stop thinking about Robert Parks.
Mary loosened her arms for a moment to recount her packages trying to recall if she had picked up everything on Constance's list and just then, she walked into something solid. She cried out as she fell backwards, her packages fell from her arms and dropped onto the sidewalk andone rolled off onto the street.
Mary managed to catch herself before she fell, and the thing she had run into grabbed a hold of her arm, she looked up into the things face and blinked through the rain that had run into her eyes.
"Are you alright?" The thing asked, "I'm terribly sorry- I wasn't watching- I'll pay for anything that was destroyed..." his words died on his lips and Mary felt her mouth go dry.
How could it be possible? Robert Parks was standing in front of her, holding onto her arm, standing in the middle of a busy street in London.
"Mary?" Her name rolled off his lips and Mary swallowed.
"..." She couldn't even speak, it continued to rain and they stood together in the street, until a man passing by with a briefcase trod over one package that Mary was certain had contained one of Constance's shirts, one that had to be taken to a laundry in town, where they washed it by hand with special chemicals. "Oh no," she whispered, her voice thick with cold and tears.
"Here," Robert bent down and retrieved the soggy package that had fallen into the street.
"Thank you," she gathered her other packages into her arms and she stood straight. He was holding the fresh new novel that was wrapped in paper out to her.
How? Mary wondered as she took the package from him, when she did he wrapped his fingers around hers. Mary let out a soft gasp; even though it was raining and they were both soaked through she could feel the heat of his hand as it covered hers. What did it mean? Mary had never been the sentimental type, she wasn't certain about fate, but as she stood shivering in the rain she wondered what else it could possibly be. She opened her mouth to say something when someone down the sidewalk shouted, and a bicycle sped past, Robert let go of her hand to let the rider pass and the moment was lost. Mary suddenly remembered herself, and the fact that it was nearly tea time and Constance would be waiting— impatiently for her, at home.
"I-" Mary finally found her voice, "I really should be going," Mary felt a tightness in her chest a feeling she placed with the realization that she would be meeting and leaving Robert for a second time.
"Yes," Robert nodded; he shook out his umbrella and put it back into position over his head once more.
Mary assumed that this was it, obviously he was busy, obviously he had things to do and obviously he hadn't thought of her at all. Mary felt the hot rush of tears. She was glad that with the rain he couldn't see them; he'd think she was foolish. It's not as if he made you any sort of promise, that thought did not make Mary feel any better, in fact, that only made her feel worse. He might just make a habit of kissing lady's maids—much worse.
"Excuse me," Mary blurted before she broke down completely, she turned, ready to sprint home. She would run away and she wouldn't look back, she was finished with looking back. She took a step forward.
"Wait!" Robert shouted after her.
Mary felt the tears spill over onto her cheeks but their warmth was lost with a gust of wind.
"I'll pay for whatever is damaged," he was reaching into his coat pocket, "let me give you my card; it has a number on it where you can reach me during the day."
"Oh," Mary reached out with a shaking hand, glad that he would think it was from the chill, the freezing rain that slicked down her hair and caused her clothes to cling to her.
He watched as she reached out, he was looking at her face but she would not meet his eyes. She simply took his card and stared at it.
"So that's it?" She asked quietly, so quiet he almost didn't hear.
"Pardon?" He asked, stepping closer to her. To say that he had been shocked to find the person he had nearly knocked over was Mary Maceachran, the one woman he was certain he would never see again, the one woman who had been occupying his thoughts for three months. She finally looked up at him, her eyes held much of the same emotion that they had that night at Sir. Williams'—confusion, anger and something else, something that Robert couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Don't—isn't there—?" Mary stuttered. Why was he just standing there? Why didn't he say something? Why was he waiting for Mary when she was only tongue tied, wasn't the anything he felt he should say? Anything at all? She waiting for him, but he just kept looking at her. Mary took a deep breath and set her shoulders. "Very well, good day to you," she tried her best for a tone that Constance herself would be proud of, but instead of steady and indifferent Mary's voice had come out in a weak quiver.
Damn, she cursed herself.
"Mary."
Why did he have to say her name that way— like instead of months it had been hours since their last meeting? Why did he have to say her name at all? He was standing close to her, much too close for any sort of propriety, they were in the middle of the street, and Robert was basically a stranger. A stranger who tried to murder his own Father. She didn't know what to do, she knew that if she left now she would never forgive herself, but if she stayed she may not forgive herself either.
"Her Ladyship…" Mary said, she was going to say something else, about perhaps the fact that they were both going to catch the consumption, standing out in the pouring rain, but he reached out and took her hand, the hand that was still holding his now soggy card. "Robert—"
Finally she said his name, then she shivered, a quaking of her body that he felt reverberate up his arm.
"You're drenched."
"Aye," Mary agreed, "so are you, but I'm not too far away from here." Not too far on a mild day without pouring rain and a strong wind.
"Not too far?"
"She lives—" she did not get a chance to finish her though, she shivered again and her teeth chattered together.
"Do you have money for a taxi?"
Mary shook her head, she hadn't thought to bring any fare for the cab, she could have asked her Ladyship but the morning had started out promising, and if it had looked like there might be rain Constance would have postponed the shopping until the next clear afternoon.
"I can walk," she was shaking steadily now, gripping herself tight so she didn't loose her packages.
"Don't be daft," Robert said, "you'll catch your death walking anywhere, if you haven't already. We'll go inside and you can ring her Ladyship and tell her you got caught in a storm."
"I don't know…" Mary replied, "I'm not sure her Ladyship would approve…"
"Would she rather you catch cold or worse?"
Mary shook her head, "of course not."
"Good then, it's not far," he stepped close to her again, and covered her with the umbrella, Mary was not sure what good that would do her now, but she appreciated the gesture all the same.
Mary knew that Constance would be furious, there were others that would be able to take care of her until Mary could return but Constance was very particular about how she did things and Mary knew that Constance would not be satisfied unless things were done just right. But she also knew that Robert was right, she could not very well walk the two miles back to her Ladyship's home.
She walked along side him, despite the sudden rainstorm the street was still busy and Mary couldn't help but to take a step away to distance herself from him.
Robert looked at her, and stepped over to her again, "keep under here." Mary sighed but she did not move away from him again.
She looked so small, carrying her packages, her hair was plastered her head and her clothes were hanging off her thin frame, she kept beside him the rest of the way to his place, which was thankfully not terribly far away at all.
Mary was surprised when they came to the building of apartments.
"I thought…"
"There's been a few changes since we've last met," Robert said as they ran up the front steps, he fished a key out of his pocket and opened the front door, he let Mary go first and she walked into the small lobby that was dark and dusty but warm and dry. "The first being employment."
"What are you doing now?"
"Stockbridge decided that he was going to move back to York, he likes the country, and I decided that I would like the city better. He had a friend with whom he owed a favor who works for the newspaper, so he made a call."
"You're a journalist?" Mary asked in disbelief, as she followed him towards the stairs, she never knew he had an interest in writing.
Robert shook his head, "no, I work the press, what makes the papers. It's rather boring, but it beats serving all day." Mary's face fell at his last comment and he shot her a sideways glance. "You enjoy your work with her Ladyship."
Mary nodded, "its hard work, as a matter of fact," she followed him up the stairs. "I could loose a days pay for not making it home."
"This rain won't last," Robert replied, "and if it does, Mrs. Porter has a spare room that I'm certain you could rent for the night. I have a phone."
"How much do they pay you for working a press?" Mary realized her question was rude but she didn't take it back.
"Six pounds a week, it's not much but it's enough for my own place, food, clothes, a trip to the cinema every once a while."
Mary wondered what she would do with six pounds a week; she thought she might take a train and visit her mother for a while, perhaps her sister. Maybe she would save and buy a new dress, or some new fancy clothes. Or books, or a trip to the talkies downtown, she had gone to the cinema once with her Ladyship, but Constance had insisted that they leave half way through, she was terribly bored with the moving picture, stating that it had no story and she would much rather spend an afternoon reading. Mary had enjoyed the movie, she didn't get many chances to go out since she started with her Ladyship, she would love to be able to see more films.
"Here we are," Robert said, startling her out of her thoughts.
Mary paused, as Robert unlocked the door opened it and stepped inside, she hesitated at the threshold. She knew what her mother would think, her entering into the apartment of an unmarried man, without a chaperone, Mary knew that her Ladyship felt the same way, though perhaps harsher since she had actually met Robert.
Mary looked at him; he was waiting for her, pulling off his wet coat, shaking it before he hung it up, along with him umbrella. Finally Mary took a steadying breath and stepped inside.
..&..
Shall I continue?