Me: Fall break this week. I can get a couple chapters written!

Fall break: Uh…you have these books to read, this work to catch up on, you should probably start that 25 page essay…*blabbers on*

Me: Crap.

BUT!

I finally managed to get something written for ya'll! Woohoo! I hope ya'll enjoy this!

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Mary!"

His mother's screeching cry filled the house as the woman ran down the stairs and pushed the servant out of the way, opening the door herself.

"Oh my dear baby girl is back!" she cried.

"Ma," Mary groaned, but she allowed herself to be enwrapped in smothering arms.

Jackson walked into the entryway and leaned against the wall, watching the display. Emma and Sarah stood on the stairs; his father was nowhere to be seen.

"My precious daughter is back! And with such a handsome husband," she continued with her gleeful spew.

Mr. Fitzherbert stepped up behind his new wife, filling the doorway. A smile curled his lips. "Thank you, ma'am. You flatter me too much."

"Oh!" She let out as she reached out and patted his cheek. "Come in. Come in. Oh my dear, you must be so tired." Mrs. Overland turned and tugged her daughter along with her, past Jackson and into the living room. "It's such a long ride. And to image, your uncle forcing you back immediately after the ceremony. You two probably didn't have any time to relax."

"I'm fine, Ma. We rode part of—"

"You rode! My dear, you can't be doing that."

Jackson shook his head. He peered up through his long locks to his sisters. Sarah made her way into the living room, and Emma followed, pausing to squeeze his shoulder and give him a small smile before leaving him alone with his new brother.

His eyes flashed over to the man who still stood in the doorway; luggage stacked around his feet. "Grab your bags and come in. It is rude to hover at the door."

Mr. Fitzherbert obeyed with a flashy smile. A servant snuck by and shut the door behind him, took his jacket and baggage before leaving the two alone. The man rubbed his hands together as he walked towards Jackson. "So, imagine that. We're brothers now. Who would have seen that coming? I certainly didn't, quite an ordeal. Don't look so glum, I'm the one stuck with your sister now," he said, widening his smile and leaning into the brunet in a playful manner.

"You put yourself into that situation," Jackson bit out.

The man let out a punctured breath that sounded like an attempt to laugh. "Ha. Look, no hard feelings between us, right? We are the only ones who can see the truth of Mr. Haddock."

"Truth is based on perspective," he replied, turning away from Mr. Fitzherbert and going into the living room.

His mother was practically sitting on her youngest daughter; she had squeezed herself tightly against the girl on the couch leaving enough room for Sarah to sit as well. Emma sat in one of the chairs near the fire. Jackson took the one next to her as the newest edition to the family sat on the end of the chaise, propping his elbow on its only arm.

"I wish I had been there for the ceremony. Of course, it probably was not anything notable. We will have to have a proper one soon—perhaps after the holidays. A nice winter wedding. Ivory and pale blue," Mrs. Overland yammered on.

"Ma, there's no need. The service was fine."

"Fine? Acceptable, perhaps, at most. Without your family there it could never be more than acceptable."

Mary's lips curled. Her bright eyes darted to the ceiling.

"We could easily speak with Pastor John after the Christmas service to see when he would be available. I would have to work out a suitable dinner; something fresher than the dinner everyone had for the holiday. They'll be so tired of parties by then."

"Ma," Mary cut in, "we are leaving after the holidays."

"You…You are what?" she asked.

A knock on the door dismissed her youngest from answering. She leapt to her feet and peered out the window, pushing the thin curtain from the frosted pane.

"Who is it, Mary?" Emma asked.

"A messenger. Poor man, delivering messages with that saddle. I hope he is not travelling far."

The door opened out in the hallway. Muffled words float to the group before it shut. The servant passed by on his way to Mr. Overland's study with a letter in hand.

"Perhaps it is from Uncle," Sarah suggested.

The explanation was enough to tide all but one in the group over, and they returned to the conversation, Mary's comment now forgotten. Within no time though, Mrs. Overland's buzzing curiosity was settled by the entrance of the servant. He held out a tray containing an envelope with a broken seal and a piece of parchment appearing to have been tossed onto it haphazardly.

"Ma'am, the master requested you read this."

She stared at the young man with wide eyes before snatching the piece of parchment. Unfolding it, her eyes scanned the words, growing larger with each new word.

"Who is it from?" Mary asked, threading her arms through her mother's and resting her chin on the woman's shoulder.

"Mr. Liely."

Emma perked up at the words. Something glimmered briefly through her eyes that Jackson couldn't discern before it vanished. His sister leaned forward, inclining her chin as she waited for their mother to say more.

"What does the gentleman say?" Mr. Fitzherbert asked.

"He apologizes for not being able to extend his invitation in person because he is engaged in business and preparations for a Christmas Eve Gala. He states that he would be humbled and delightfully happy if we were to accept his invitation."

"Oh, a ball! How wonderful!" Mary smiled. "What a wonderful way to be welcomed back."

"It is not for you," Jackson said.

She arched an eyebrow. "I know that, Jack."

"What a perfect opportunity to show off your husband. We must not allow anyone to see him before them. What a thrill! You will be the talk of the evening."

Mary's face fell briefly while her husband's brightened. "Make it a moment to remember, I like it," he said, his lips curling into a smile.

Jackson was about to make a comment about not going—he wasn't certain Emma would be eager to go—but Sarah beat him to it in her slight, suggestive way that he admired.

"I for one am not too eager to be thrust back into his company. Nothing against his character, of course; he is quite pleasant. How about you, Emma?" Sarah asked.

She smiled gently and took a moment to study the flames that licked the logs sitting in the fireplace.

"I think attending might be a nice change of pace." She turned back to face her family. "We have not yet had time nor cause to celebrate prior and now we do."

"Yes. That is the proper spirit!" her mother commended. "We should put you in the evergreen dress. Mr. Liely will see then what he discarded so quickly and will truly regret it."

Jackson sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Going to a Gala at Dreki Vollr guaranteed only one thing: he was going to see Mr. Haddock again. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. Well, he couldn't discern what he felt meant. At the thought of seeing the tall, gangly man again and meeting those bright green eyes, his heart sputtered erratically in his chest and his stomach burn as it did when his father permitted him to try a glass of the rum he had imported.

His mother continued on with her babble until dinner was announced. She paused only long enough to see the group and her husband seated around the table; then, she was right back at it.

Jackson unfolded his napkin and set it on his lap. His eyes darted over to Mary who sat at his right.

"Father," she said.

"Yes?" he asked, eager for a distraction from his prattling wife.

"I am a married woman now. Surely, I should be allowed a glass of wine with my meal."

The brunet had to choke back a hoot of laughter. There was the Mary he missed and worried over.

Their father's eyebrows pulled together to form a bushy, gray caterpillar. "Not under my roof."

His wife took the tangent to admonish him and to order a servant to fill her glass before returning back to all the possible outcomes and meanings of the invitation to the Mr. Liely's Christmas Eve Gala.

Mary smiled as her glass was filled with the claret liquid. She reached over and took a sip. Her lips puckered at the taste before she gracefully set it back down.

"So, Mary, was the ceremony at least acceptable?" he asked, wanting to know that it wasn't a stain on her memories.

She nodded. "It was a decently pleasant ceremony. A brooding Mr. Haddock certainly didn't make it any better…" The muscles in her face went slack before contracting quickly. "Whoops."

Jackson's heart flapped wildly against his ribcage. "Mr. Haddock was there?"

She nibbled at her lip and took another sip of wine, repeating her previous expression. "Yes, I wasn't supposed to tell, but I already have, hmm?" A smirk pulled at her lips. She rested her elbow on the arm of her chair and leaned closer to him. "You enjoy gossip, hmm? Well, Mr. Haddock was the one who found us. He came down on Mr. Fitzherbert in such a furry—it was quite scary actually. Well, he claimed we had to marry at once; it wasn't proper us being together as we were and all." She waved a hand flippantly with a roll of her eyes. "Us, planning to hop aboard the next ship bound to India to split the cost, and then part ways as pleasant acquaintances. Neither one of us was looking for anything more than a get-away, and he had to ruin that," she hissed. "Honestly, the damn man is so annoying."

"Curb your tongue, Mary," he reprimanded, though he couldn't decide if it was because of her unladylike language or because of her ridiculing Mr. Haddock.

"Oh, come off it, Jack. If anyone understands that, it's you. You cannot deny he is the most annoying, self-serving man there is. "Not proper", "ruin my family's good name", ha!" She flinched away from the volume her voice had reached. Her eyes scanned the table to make sure no one was looking. Their mother was still on her monologue that their sisters were dutifully listening to and their father skillfully ignoring. Mary's husband's eyes darted over them for a moment for turning back to his dysfunctional family.

Mary took another sip of wine before continuing, "Mr. Fitzherbert confided with me that Mr. Haddock as always been prodding into his life since his father died—jealousy and all."

"Did Mr. Fitzherbert really only want a companion on the voyage to India?"

"If by companion you mean someone to split the cost of those horrendously expensive cabins, that's what he claimed. I have no reason not to believe him. Mr. Elcott and his esteemed wife Mrs. Anne Elcott," she smiled. "Those were the names we were going to use so that no one could find us until we wanted them to. We still plan to head there after we finish with this horrid holiday. Of course, we will be using our own names now. No reason to hide anymore. I am a married woman. As long as my husband agrees, my family cannot protest. I must admit, having a husband may be handy."

"You used to love this holiday." The moment the words left his lips he chided himself. There were so many troubles to be addressed in her statement, and he picked her dislike of Christmas.

"I did, until it became overwhelmed with Ma nagging me 'to do this' and 'wear that'."

"But why did you tell Mrs. McIntosh that you were to wed? Why come up with such an elaborate plan?"

"Oh, come off it already, Jack!" She sighed. "No one would truly believe that we could leave as acquaintances and stay as nothing more, so I wrote those lines to ease any fears. Cleary, that did not happen."

"What about India? When you came back?"

"I was going to write once I arrived that things had not worked, and we were quite separated. I would just remain in India, or travel somewhere else. I had not really planned much. But, now I'm stuck with a husband. Thank God he enjoys travelling as much as I do."

Jackson nodded and let Mary begin eating the food she had been eyeing throughout their entire conversation. His fingers tapped against the edge of the table. "One more question."

She groaned and set down her just filled fork. "What is it?"

"Did Mr. Haddock really put in such effort?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I told you. He has always been obsessed with Eugene's," she paused to break into a smile, "that's his first name, imagine—Anyways, he's been obsessed with his life. I assume this area was no different. And then, he had the nerve to bring me into it as well. I swear, Jack, he is nearly as persistent as you." She nodded to herself and finally started to eat, leaving Jackson puzzled.

He sat back and set his utensils across his plate. He didn't think he could eat; his stomach kept skipping through his abdomen.