A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth

By the time Maria's eyes fluttered open the next day, it was already midmorning, and the sun had already risen. Sore from the previous evening's activities, she sat up slowly. As she sat in bed, the memories of last night trickled back.

"Oh…oh, Robin," she groaned. Why did he have to be so idiotic about things? She sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. Then she frowned. It wouldn't do to sulk. It was up to Robin to apologize; Maria had done absolutely nothing wrong. If he wanted to beg forgiveness, he knew where to find her. She straightened her shoulders and slid out of bed.

Robin or not, life must go on. Cranberry bread must be baked. She had already wasted time by sleeping in. If only she had retired early yesterday. If only her stubborn pride hadn't kept her dancing with Ambrose. Well, it hadn't been entirely unpleasant, either.

No. It wouldn't do to dwell on the events of yesterday, Maria scolded herself. Better to focus on the task at hand: gifts. She would make cranberry bread for Marmaduke and Coeur De Noir. She would have to finish the baby blanket for Uncle and Aunt, and she would give the honeymoon trip and the brooch to Miss Heliotrope and Digweed—the brooch.

Robin had put the brooch in his pocket.

Maria huffed. Why did her life have to be so difficult? Well, she would worry about the brooch later. She would bake cranberry bread the rest of this morning, with or without Robin. Lifting her chin resolutely, Maria began to dress. Today she wore a simple woolen blue-gray dress, buttons up the front. After tying a fresh white apron around her waist, she pulled back her hair in a braid and glanced in the mirror. Not that her appearance mattered today. It wasn't as though Robin would see. She clenched her jaw.

Maria made her way to the kitchen. Marmaduke had not yet begun to prepare lunch, but the remnants of what appeared to have been a splendid breakfast were still on the counter. A little plate sat awaiting Maria's arrival. Heart warmed at this gesture, Maria munched a piece of toast as she retrieved the ingredients she needed. Flour, butter, brown sugar, eggs…she bustled around busily in the hopes that her mind might not wander to distasteful topics.

"Might there be any way in which your servant might assist you, my princess?" Maria jumped. She hadn't noticed Marmaduke enter.

"Actually, I'm working on your Christmas present." Her cheeks reddened slightly. She knew that anything she made wouldn't measure up to Marmaduke's own cooking, but wasn't it the thought that counted?

"Ah. Well, carry on; I shall entertain myself with the gardens."

"Thank you," she managed a smile before he zipped off. She added another log to the stove. It was nearly hot enough. She poured her mixture into four loaf pans. One for Marmaduke, one for Coeur De Noir, one for Lillian, and one for Maria. After all the trouble she'd gone through to make these, she figured she might as well reap some of the rewards. It would have been easier with a helper, but she couldn't have Marmaduke make his own present—and Robin certainly hadn't shown his face this morning, she thought bitterly.

While her loaves baked, Maria helped Marmaduke tend the garden. Not that he needed any help—in fact, she was likely slowing him down. But she needed something to do, and pulling weeds was an appropriately menial task. Eventually the sweet smell of bread began to waft up into the garden, and Maria removed them from the stove. She drizzled the sweet orange glaze over the top—orange glaze Robin would not be tasting.

By the time she had finished, Marmaduke had already returned to the kitchen to prepare a luncheon. Feeling herself in the way, Maria taxied her breads up to her room to store. Then she took up what would soon become a baby blanket and made her way down to the piano room.

"Hello, Maria," Lillian looked up briefly from her playing.

"Hello. That's lovely. What is it?" Maria inquired after the song Lillian was coaxing from the piano.

"I don't know," she replied. "Do you like it?"

"You don't mean to say you're making that up?" Maria sat down in one of the many elegant but uncomfortable chairs.

"Yes," Lillian smiled. She seemed positively radiant this morning, Maria thought grudgingly. Well, why shouldn't she be? Her romantic interest had his head on straight. She clicked her needles together quickly, channeling her frustration into something positive. Lillian glanced up and, noting Maria's expression, adjusted her playing. A slower, despondent tune floated up, yearning and sighing.

The change in music wasn't lost on Maria. She had a feeling Lillian was well aware of her mood this morning. But she let the song play out, as it were, and only when the final chord had been struck in all its minor melancholy did Maria speak.

"What do you think I should do?"

Lillian lifted her hands from the keys and pivoted on the bench to face Maria.

"My dear, I am not the most experienced in matters of the heart."

"But you seem so…so composed!" The corners of Lillian's lips quirked up.

"Is that a music joke?" This abated Maria's frustration slightly.

"Not intentionally. But I mean it. At least tell me your thoughts on my predicament." She set her knitting down on her lap in earnest. Lillian's wry smile softened.

"I think—purely my own thoughts, mind you—that Robin ought to apologize. He acted in an abominable fashion, if you don't mind my saying so—"

"My thoughts exactly," Maria nodded triumphantly.

"But you weren't without fault yourself. None of us ever are."

"You think I shouldn't have danced with Ambrose so much." Maria lowered her gaze.

"Well, dear, I must say—"

"No, no, you are right. I felt very spiteful. Robin told me to dance with all the other gentlemen, and I readily did. I suppose it showed poor character on my part."

"It was undoubtedly better than turning to the drink," Lillian frowned, "but at any rate, let us look forward. Coeur De Noir is coming for lunch, and perhaps—"

"Is he now?" Maria wiggled her eyebrows comically. Lillian blushed.

"Yes, and perhaps he'll bring Robin with him. They ought to be arriving soon."

"I don't even know if Robin will be in a fit enough state to have a conversation, let alone apologize," Maria bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. Remembering Robin stumbling about in his inebriated state made something in her stomach hurt.

A knock at the door roused her from her thoughts.

"That must be them," Lillian said, rising swiftly.

"Or just him," Maria muttered glumly.

"Let us hope for the best," Lillian said. "Come, accompany me to greet them." So Maria rose with a heavy heart and went to greet the visitors.

A/N: Dear readers,

Thanks for reading! I feel wretched for Maria; don't you? I wonder what happened to Robin and Ambrose after the ball. Perhaps we'll get a peek into that next chapter. Please review :)

Your devoted

Ponygirl7