Mary gazed out of her bedroom window smiling. It was good to be back. It seemed like she'd only been away for a day or two, well, except the fact that her two best friends were now very much grown. Dickon, at eighteen, was a man. She was very surprised at the changes in him. Well, the physical changes. For what she had witnessed, he was still the same inside, if not a little smarter.
Mary turned at the sound of Martha gasping over another of Mary's new dresses. "Miss Mary! This here gown mun be the prettiest o' them all! Tha mun wear this tonight for dinner," she exclaimed, holding the pink and white dress between her hands.
"I bought that in France. It was the only one I actually liked. The French have such an odd taste in fashion. The other girls went positively crazy in the shops, having every style in every color made. I don't know when they'll ever wear them all. No, I just bought that one. Well, and this one," Mary said as she opened an unopened trunk and pulled out a neatly wrapped box. "I had this one made for you Martha. I..." she stuttered, "I wanted to thank you for putting up with me all these years. I know I haven't been the easiest person to wait upon. Well, here," she finished quickly and gave the box to Martha.
Martha, with a surprised look on her face, looked from Mary to the box in her hands. "Oh Miss Mary, tha shouldn't o'" she said, tears welling up in her eyes. Slowly, she unwrapped the box and took off the lid. Martha gasped. "Miss Mary! Oh!" she exclaimed as she pulled out a beautiful white lace gown. There were beads sewn in everywhere, and they sparkled in the light. Martha stood up and held the dress up to herself, observing herself in the mirror. "Oh Miss Mary. I...I...I don't know when or where I'd ever be able to wear this. It's so beautiful!" Martha said between laughs and sobs, pulling Mary to her and giving her the biggest hug Mary had ever received in her life.
"Yes, well, I thought you might like it," Mary said smiling. "The girls thought I was crazy, when I told them I was having it made for a maid."
Martha looked down at her shoes when Mary said this, and Mary could see a blush coming over her cheeks. "I didn't like those girls. They were so...so..." Mary paused, trying to think of a word. "Contrary! Snobbish! Mean! Two-faced! I hated it. They were so different from us Martha. All they thought of was money, and catching a husband. It was pure punishment, and you're very lucky I don't have to go back there for another year, because you can be sure I'll throw the exact same fit I threw when I was twelve. You'd have to drag me back!" Mary said heatedly.
Martha let out a laugh. "To be honest Miss Mary, Dickon and I were quite amused with the thought o' tha goin' away with all those other lasses. We thought tha'd be sent back the first week with a letter sayin' tha were much too stubborn to teach!"
This brought a smile to Mary's face. "Yes, well I sure put up a fuss the first couple of weeks. I suppose I just gave up on the hope that Colin and Dickon would come and save me, so I decided to make the most of it," Mary sighed.
"Oh tha can be sure Master Colin wanted to come to tha's rescue. That's why Master Craven first learned to ride, did tha know? He vowed he'd learn to ride a horse well enou' to ride it to London to fetch tha up and bring tha back home where tha belonged," Martha laughed.
Mary and Martha talked for a good two hours before the clock rang four, and they reluctantly got up from the table and began to get Mary ready for dinner. Martha fashioned Mary's hair in long ringlets held back by a beautiful white and pink comb, and fastened her into the white and pink dress that she had exclaimed over before. It took about an hour, but Mary was finally ready to make her appearance at the dinner table.
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Mary entered the dining hall, noticing that only her uncle and Dickon were seated. "Hello uncle. Dickon," Mary greeted them, curtseying and then taking a seat across from Dickon. She looked up to his face, noticing a dirt smudge on his right cheek. Mary pointedly rubbed her own right cheek while staring at him. Dickon caught on and quickly rubbed off the bit of earth on his face. Mary smiled. He'd been out in the garden.
"Where's Colin?" Mary asked, looking to her uncle.
"Still getting ready. He came in about five minutes ago from riding," Mr. Craven said slowly. "Mary, I'm truly glad you're back. Perhaps you can put Colin back in his place. I sure can't. He has no thought in the world except riding and fashion. Well, and you," her uncle told her, saying the last bit softly.
Mary's eyes took in the small smile on her uncle's lips, and the loss of smile on Dickon's. What did he mean? Mary was just about to ask for a further explanation when Colin bustled into the dining hall. "So sorry I'm late. I went a little too far from the manor. Father. Dickon. Mary," Colin said, nodding his head to the three.
At once, the servants came in and set the food on the table, and an easy conversation was started about Mary's experience in London. For the most part, Mary lied through her teeth. She answered all questions with answers she knew would please her uncle. She wouldn't dare speak of her actual opinion on the school, or the people with whom she had to spend every day with. Her uncle merely nodded his head, looking pleased, and Colin looked very bored with such answers.
"But surely Mary. There must of been something ill about the place," he'd whine, wanting to hear something amusing, but was only responded with, "I found it perfectly acceptable."
Dickon, on the other hand, had a slight frown on his face, and Mary refused to make eye contact with him. She knew he could read her like a book, and she refused to take in the look of knowing that would surely be plastered on his face. She also knew that he wouldn't dare say anything. No, Dickon would keep it to himself, and would wait until she felt the need to talk about it.
After dinner, Colin decided to bring up Dickon's idea. "Mary. How would you like to join Dickon and me for a ride? I can ride quite well, you know. I dare say I'm as good as Dickon, if not better."
"Now, now son. I dare say Dickon is one of the best horsemen I've ever seen. Perhaps in time, son. In time," Mr. Craven laughed, throwing a knowing look at Dickon. It was a known fact at Misselthwaite that Dickon was much better on a horse than Colin.
"A ride? That sounds delightful, but I'd rather hoped we could visit the garden. It's been so long," Mary said softly.
"The garden? What is it with you two and putting off riding for the garden? Besides, we can all spend all of tomorrow in the garden. I want to ride tonight!" Colin whined, and instead of arguing like she would of before, Mary finally agreed.
"Capital. Capital," Colin said, taking Mary by the hand and leading her to the stables, Dickon close behind. Once inside, Mary was hit with the smell of hay and horse. She didn't much care for the smell. Colin dragged her over to a beautiful tanned palomino horse. "This," Colin started, gesturing to the creature, "is India. I had father buy her as a coming home present for you. I thought you might like her."
Mary gasped. "For me? She's beautiful. Thank you Colin," Mary said, planting a friendly kiss on Colin's cheek, the way she was taught at school. Colin blushed, and turned away from her to untie India. "Well, here you are. Dickon, you can get her ready while I go and get Magic ready," Colin announced, walking over to a pitch black horse.
Dickon expertly got India saddled up and led her out front. "Here tha are Miss Mary. I'll be goin to get Cloud," Dickon smiled, and went back in to get his own, white horse.
Colin came out then, already sitting on his own horse. "This," Colin said, patting his horse affectionately, "is Magic. I thought it was a fitting name."
"He's lovely. The color of the night sky!" Mary said, gazing at the horse. "And he," Mary said, looking over to Dickon and the white horse following, "is as white as a fluffy, Yorkshire cloud. I see why you named him."
Dickon smiled widely at this, and walked over to her. "I said exactly that when I saw him, I did," Dickon said, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Mary let out a gasp, "Dickon!" Dickon smiled down into her own very wide eyes, and lifted her up and onto India. "Thought tha might need some help," he chuckled, and mounted Cloud.
Mary's heart was beating a mile a minute. What had she expected when he'd grabbed her? Mary was quite confused at her reaction. He'd held her like that all the time when they were younger. Rolling around on the moors, climbing trees, and who knows what else? Yet, Mary had never felt the feeling in her stomach as she felt now. It felt as if flowers from the garden were growing inside of her, and blooming at the same time. Stubbornly, Mary decided it was only from being shocked. Nothing else.
"Come now, let us race!" Colin shouted, and stopped. "From here, to that path going through the moor!"
"Oh, I, I don't know if I could. Riding side saddle is much harder than you think!" Mary exclaimed. She reflected on the time at finishing school when they were teaching the girls how to ride side saddle. She'd fallen off a good two times.
"Oh fine then. You go ride up to the finishing line, and you can watch to see who wins," Colin announced, and watched as Mary quickly rode over to the path.
"Are you ready to lose Dickon? Just think of what Mary will think of you when you come in second. No, just think of what she will think of me when I win? I dare say, she might even give me another kiss!" Colin laughed.
The usual smile in Dickon's eyes vanished, and he turned away from his friend and stared at Mary, ready for her to give the signal to start.
Mary waved her arms, signaling the start. Colin and Dickon respectably kicked their horses into gear, and took off towards their friend. Dickon instantly raced in front of Colin, leaving him a few paces behind. Colin, surprised, tried to make up the ground between them, but every time he got any closer, Dickon went faster. Since when has Dickon been able to ride like that?
It was fair to say that Colin had always been annoying. Dickon knew that, but he let it slide. After all, Colin had been an invalid, and was used to not having to watch his manners. Dickon had set up a sort of barrier against Colin, to stop anything from annoying him. He'd thought that the barrier worked, until just now. He wasn't sure why, but when Colin challenged him with Mary. Something inside his stomach exploded, and if it was anyone else besides Dickon, they'd of known that the feeling was jealousy.
Dickon was used to letting Colin tie with him, never win, just tie. He'd ride a bit slower than he was capable of, so that Colin was always directly behind. He was sure that Colin wouldn't take a good beating well, so he always evened it out.
Now, Dickon wanted to win. Now, for the first time, Dickon didn't care how Colin would react. All he cared about was Mary, who was a few yards away. She was jumping up and down, cheering both of them on, a flush on her cheeks from the exercise.
Dickon passed her, slowed down, and dismounted. He turned around to see Colin just pulling in, looking extremely put down, and startled.
"Dickon! Wow! I don't think I've ever seen riding like that!" Mary exclaimed running towards her friend and giving him a congratulatory kiss on his cheek.
Dickon looked over to Colin. The rajah wore a great scowl on his face. He really didn't take defeat well.
"Oh Colin! You put up such a good fight! I didn't know you could ride so well!" Mary offered, patting her cousin on the back.
Colin calmed down a bit at his cousins touch, yet he still shot daggers at Dickon with his eyes. Mary noticed this.
"Now Colin. You wanted to race Dickon. So you raced him, and you lost. Now you can either be a bad sport about it and make us all miserable, or you can accept your loss, and try harder next time!" Mary then walked from her cousin and up to India, giving Dickon a sweet smile.
"Some help Miss Mary?" Dickon asked knowingly, and lifter her up and on to her horse.
"There, that's better. Let's see how you two handle losing to a girl!" Mary laughed, and took off with India, leaving a stunned Colin, and a smiling Dickon behind.