Authors Note: Wow! Thanks for the reviews, it's so nice to know that one's stories are being read. This is the second chapter, I hope you all enjoy it! A BIG thanks to Jessica for all her help with this chapter, thanks for your words and your ideas, always!
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Robert closed the door and locked it.
"Here, lets put these by the radiator," he took a package from Mary's arms, she followed him obediently to the front room where there was a sagging green couch and two wooden chairs. There was also a table that was piled with papers, books and pens. The front room was small, but with his mother's picture hanging on the wall and a pair of fraying curtains on the window it was homely.
Robert walked over to the heater and kicked it solidly, there was a moment of silence and then the heater started to life, it was a terrible racket but Mary was thankful for any sort of warmth at the moment.
He unwrapped the package which held Constance's blouse; it appeared to be unsoiled as Robert gently draped it over one the chairs, he then pulled the chair over to the radiator and motioned to Mary. She began to unwrap the rest of the packages, she placed the book on the window sill that was above the radiator, and then she set the box of tea and the bags of spices on the seat of the chair that also held the blouse.
Robert was watching her when she looked over at him.
"Let's get you out of those clothes, and then you can call her Ladyship."
Mary felt a blush warm her cheeks, she wanted to ask Robert what of his did he think could possibly fit her, but she didn't dare. He smirked at her, and then he took hold of her elbow and led her towards his bedroom. He went inside while Mary waited in the doorway, it was a small room not much larger than a closet, it had room for a bed and a dressing table but that was about it. As Robert went to his dresser Mary looked around his room, he had books piled on the floor, and more papers as well. He also had the picture of his mother on his dresser. The one in the front room must have been a copy.
"Here," he had clothes in his hands and he laid them across his bed. "You get dressed in here and I'll start the fire and tea."
"All right," Mary nodded. They met crossing the threshold and Robert stopped, Mary stopped in front of him.
"There's a robe on the back of the door," was all he said before he slipped past her back into the hall.
Mary closed the door behind her and rested her head against the wooden frame. She took a deep steadying breath and reached down with her left hand to pinch herself, she needed to be certain that she wasn't dreaming. She unbuttoned her coat and peeled it off, she did not know where else to put it so she dropped it on the floor. She then pulled her sweater over her head. She shivered as she stood in her blouse and her skirt. She took those off quickly and stood in her underclothes. She thought briefly of taking them off, but then quickly decided against it. It would not be appropriate for her to be walking around without underwear, that and the thought of him seeing her tattered undergarments was far too humiliating.
He had left her a brown wool sweater. She pulled it over her head, the wool scratching on her rain-raw skin and as she settled into the sweater she settled into the smell of him. She tried to quell the quickening in her blood, to think of England - to avoid the thought that he was so close. That he was just in the next room over instead of miles away and if she wanted to she could go out there and touch him.
She didn't want to have thoughts like this, when she was so sure that her feelings were written plainly across her face. She felt exposed around him, like he was aware of something that she hadn't quite figured out yet. Thankfully for the moment she was alone. Her hands shook as she donned the trousers he had left for her, he'd also left a belt and she pulled it tight, before securing it closed. She sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled on a pair of his socks. Mary hoped that the storm would pass quickly, so that she could get home but also she found herself wanting to be in Robert's immediate company. Mary had never been alone with a man before, not really, and she wasn't quite sure what she should do. She supposed hiding out in his bedroom would not do.
There was a knock at the door.
"You alright in there?" She could hear the smile in his voice.
"Fine," she replied, and was horrified by the squeak of her voice. "Just a minute." She grabbed his robe off the hook on the door and wrapped it tightly around her then she took a deep, steadying breath before opening the door.
He was leaning against the frame, and his hair was still damp from the rain and curly, it fell across his forehead, Mary felt her hand twitch but instead of reaching out to brush his hair back like she wanted to she folded her arms.
"Tea's ready, got the fire started too."
"Thank you," Mary replied.
"The telephone is in the kitchen," Robert said as Mary left his room, she padded to the kitchen, she looked at the small stove, the even smaller ice box, her eyes fell on the telephone that looked to have seen better days perhaps a decade ago. She picked up the receiver and waited for the operator.
"Hello? Yes, I would like to place a call to the Trentham home," Mary paused as the operator patched her through. Finally someone picked up the other line.
"Trentham residence," a familiar voice spoke.
"Mr. Burket!" Mary exclaimed.
"Mary?" Mr. Burket, Constance's butler replied in surprise. "Where on Earth are you? Her Ladyship expected you nearly twenty minutes ago."
"I know but I got caught in the rain," Mary said, she paused, her heart was pounding in her chest and she was certain that her voice would betray her lie. "I decided to find shelter for the night. It's small, but it's dry."
Mr. Burket did not say anything for a moment, "her Ladyship will not be pleased but these things cannot be helped. Send the bill to the Estate and it will come out of your next paycheck."
"Yes sir."
"Very good," Mr. Burket said, "we will expect you tomorrow morning then."
"Of course, sir."
"Goodnight."
Mary held the phone to her ear even after it had been disconnected.
"Mary?"
She dropped the phone back into its cradle.
"Everything is set." Mary said, as if this had all been intended, and calling Mr. Burket was simply adding the finishing touches to the perfect plan.
"Good," Robert replied. "Tea then?"
Mary nodded, he was holding a towel, it was brown and frayed but it looked clean.
"For your hair," Robert said as way of explanation and when Mary took it from him it was damp, he must have used it himself first. She ran the towel quickly through her hair, then folded it neatly and placed it on the kitchen counter.
When Mary finally came into the front room Robert was seated on the couch, he had a metal tea pot and two cups ready. He was pouring creame into his cup and Mary stood in the doorway, not sure exactly what to do. Should she go and sit on the couch, or should she take one of the chairs? Robert looked at her, her hands were clutched to the front of the robe, and her eyes were looking towards the window.
"Don't just stand there come and sit down."
Mary did as she was told and sat beside him, leaving an appropriate space between them. She was acting differently now then she had at Sir William's estate. She was reserved, with her eyes downcast and she didn't seem to know how to move unless he told her to. He imagined these were slightly different circumstances but he did not want Mary to feel uneasy, he wanted her to be comfortable.
She was dumping sugar into her tea, and then she stirred it quickly and picked it up, cupping it in her hands. She brought it up to her lips and blew on it softly before she took a sip, the warmth of the tea spread through her chest and she smiled.
"It's good."
"You're surprised."
When Mary looked at him he had that look on his face, his small smile, Mary suddenly felt very awkward. She wasn't used to anyone besides Constance watching her, but Constance watched her actions not her face.
"No I'm not," Mary replied, "Anyone can make tea."
They settled into another silence, Mary sat perched on the edge of the couch, resting her hands on her knees. She stole a sideways glance at him he wasn't watching her but instead was adding more sugar to his tea. Mary watched and she found herself trailing the length of his arm with her eyes.
He looked up at her and Mary's eye's snapped down to her hands, she knew she was blushing.
He knew she had been watching him, he could feel it and so he let her for a little while.
Mary finally sat back on the couch and drew her legs up to her chest. She felt like she should say something though she didn't know what.
"Doesn't look the storms going to be letting up anytime soon." Mary looked as if she was going to say something. "Don't apologize," Robert interrupted. "It's no trouble." He paused, taking a drink of tea. "In fact, I was hoping to see you again."
"You were?"
"Of course I was."
"Well…" Mary pulled at the cuff of her sleeve, "I thought about you… sometimes." She finished awkwardly.
"Only sometimes?" He winked at her and Mary couldn't help her small smile, she tried to hide it by brushing her hand against her lips. "I missed you," all humor was gone from his voice, and when Mary met his eyes he was looking at her again.
"Really?" Mary's voice came out in a thick whisper. She hadn't meant to say that bit out loud; the silence that followed held much more weight than the previous silence. She wondered if he might take her hand—that's what always seemed to happen at moments like this in the cinema. Then she wondered for a terrifying moment if he was going to kiss her again. But Robert didn't do either of those things; instead he finished his tea set down his cup and stood.
"I'd better ring Mrs. Porter."
When he left to go to the kitchen Mary felt disappointment settle into her stomach. She sighed Mary had hoped…
He could have meant he missed you as a friend. It's not unheard of men and women being friends. Could he have? Mary's brown furrowed and she bit her lip. It seemed so cruel, for them to meet again like this only for her to find out he only cared for her as a friend. Well honestly, what has she expected, some silly nonsense straight out of a Jane Austen novel? Mary snorted at the thought of herself as Elizabeth Bennet and Robert as Mr. Darcy.
She found herself looking around the front room again, to the books and the papers that lined the walls and sat in an old bookshelf that was sagging much like the sofa on the center shelf. She stood up; there was no harm in looking around.
Mary made her way over to the window, she looked out onto the street below, the rain was still falling steadily and the trees were being whipped around by the wind. The sky as far as Mary could see was gray. It looked as though she would be spending the night in Mrs. Porter's apartment. Mary tried to imagine how her Ladyship was fairing back at her town house. She was probably shouting at Frances for bringing her the wrong sort of tea: she wanted Earl Gray before bed, not Peppermint! Mary would have to do something awful kind for Frances.
Mary looked down at the pile of books at her feet. She reached down and picked up a novel from the floor, it was one by Faulkner. She had never read him but her Ladyship spoke of him once, "he's a fine writer I suppose, I just wish he would chose topics that were a little more uplifting."
"Did you want to borrow it?"
Mary started, and turned around, he was standing behind her.
Robert gestured to the novel she was still holding. "I've read that one twice through, take it, it's yours." He took a step towards her, and Mary looked up at him, when he came closer she took a step back. This was a mistake coming here; she should have just ducked into a shop along the way. She couldn't stand it, he was so close and he just stood there. Mary took a steadying breath then she placed her tea cup down on the windowsill.
"What are you doing?" Robert asked, just as the tea cup toppled off the edge of the windowsill and crashed onto the floor.
"I'm sorry," Mary said as she dropped onto her knees, she was just thankful she had finished her tea. She started to gather the pieces of porcelain into her lap.
"It's alright," Robert said but Mary ignored him.
"It was my fault, I'm terribly sorry," she said as she reached for another shard of glass, "ouch!" She yelped as a sharp edge sliced into her index finger.
"Are you alright?"
"Its fine," Mary lied, the cut was deep and blood was already beading along the slice.
"Let me see," Robert said, Mary got to her feet and held out her right hand. Robert took her small hand in his, and inspected the cut. It was a deep wound but not bad enough to need stitches, "come on." He led to the bathroom, still holding onto her hand, Mary walked with him embarrassed at her clumsiness. One would think she would be able to talk to a grown man properly. She talked to Mr. Burket fine and also to Mr. Shanks the head cook but she supposed they were a little different than the brooding man who was turning on the tap and guiding her hand under the cool water.
They washed the cut with soap and then he turned off the tap, he opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and Mary stood, waiting as he pulled out a roll of gauze and a bottle of disinfectant. He cut a strip of the gauze and poured some of the disinfectant onto the cloth. He pressed it to her finger and for a moment all Mary felt a cool pressure until the rubbing alcohol seeped into the cut and then it began to sting. She didn't cry out but she flinched, jerking her hand towards herself.
He didn't chastise her for being childish, he waited as Mary blew on her cut gently, then he wrapped it in the gauze and secured it in a knot.
"There."
Right as rain was what Mary's Mother always used to say, and she said the words silently to herself in her head.
"Thank you," Mary said and without thinking, Robert lifted her hand and pressed a kiss against the back of her hand. It was a brief contact but Mary took in a sharp breath and Robert looked at her. They stood like that for a moment, until Mary looked down at their clasped hands and Robert let her go.
"Are you hungry?"
Mary nodded.
"The room is set, I told her to charge to the Trentham Estate. You can eat in there if you'd prefer."
She wouldn't prefer, she would much rather be in his company and be awkward than be by herself. "Here is fine."
Robert smiled, "good. I'm afraid I wasn't expecting company, all I've got for now is some biscuits."
Mary wasn't going to be picky in someone else's home, if Robert said all he had was turnips she would have settled for them. "That's fine."
"You're awfully accommodating," Robert quipped.
"Well—"
"I was teasing you," Robert opened a cupboard, "you don't have to explain yourself to me." He rummaged around, "I never did ask, how old are you Mary?"
"Twenty-two." Did she really seem so young? Mary had started working for Lady Trentham nearly ten months ago but she'd had a job before that, she worked in a factory after finishing high school. It wasn't anything like working for a newspaper but she was making her own way, she could have done worse for herself.
Robert grabbed the bag of biscuits and opened them popping one into his mouth.
"I'm afraid I'm rather dull," he said absently, "I haven't…" He paused, "do you play cards?"
"No," Mary replied, but she was willing to learn.
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Hurrah for long chapters! All though, I'm not sure if Mary isn't being too meek. This story will be continued in chapter three!
Here are review replies.
Tina I agree with you about that kiss! Thanks so much for your review
Rainne I enjoy those quirky pairs as well! They left the ending open for the both of them, this story has been on my mind for a while, so I hope you enjoy this new chapter!
wefeedowls Wow, thanks for the review! I shall keep updating often as I can