Chapter Six
Good to You

The first signs of morning slowly made an appearance, and Martha stared out into the distance. The birds, high in the trees surrounding her, tweeted the morning song they sang every morning to notify the people listening that a new day was upon them. The sky was still dark but that did not bother Martha at all. In fact, the promise of a new day just a few moments away was something that she did not know she wanted more than anything.

The memories from the night before would come to her in waves, as her mind reminded her of the events that had unfolded. It had been a strange night. She hugged her body tighter as the cold began to bite at the bare skin that remained uncovered. Her body ached more than she had expected it too, but she was fine. She had to be; not just for herself but also for Michael. They had returned from the party in silence, and had wordlessly gotten into bed next to each other. Michael had wanted to ask her about what had happened with the man who had taken her away from him but it was not the best time to bring it all up once more. He was exhausted, and there was no doubt that she was too. He had fallen asleep soon after, but Martha remained awake next to him, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to welcome her.

Except sleep never came to her. And so she slipped out of bed without disturbing Michael, and found herself escaping the house that no longer felt like her own. She was sat on the bench wearing nothing but a night gown. She had been sat here for hours but it did not feel that long. She stared at the sky in the distance, noticing that it was lighter than the rest of the sky that hovered above her, and she watched as the blinding sun peeked upwards. The movement of the sun was slow and oddly comforting knowing that the night before was just a memory.

She thought of him in that moment. Thomas Shelby, the man she had loved and mourned so greatly, had been stood in front of her. He had touched her and it felt as though the years that had passed them by were minute. He looked older than what she remembered, but she could only guess that the heaviness of war had caused that. He was alive. His death had been a lie. He had promised he would come back to her, and he had. Except she was no longer his.

Her throat burned as the sadness overwhelmed her and she tried to stop the emotions that were swirling within her from making an appearance. She instead investigated the bruises beginning to stain her knees and thigh from her fall. She brushed the night gown up her thigh and took a deep breath. They were dark purple, and she could only guess that they would spread like wildfire. Her entire right side was stiff to move, something that she would feel for the next few days if not the next coming weeks. Bruises adorned the wrist that Kimber had grabbed and she pressed down on them, feeling how tender it was. But alas, she thought, bruises faded with time.

She wondered if the feeling in her heart would disappear with time. The uncertainty within her heart was a profound feeling to her; it changed every little detail of her life and her future. The rest of her life had been planned. She would marry Michael in a beautiful ceremony where all the guests would witness the next chapter of their lives, all of them believing that the love he had for her was reciprocated. They would live together as man and wife for the rest of the days in this house where no children would be born. Michael wanted children, whereas she could not think of herself as a mother to the children of a man she could not love. She would live the rest of her days portraying a woman who loved her inspirational husband. She had loved a man before, but there was no room in her heart for another.

And that would be how her life would be. Tommy being back would not change that, no matter how much she wished it would change things. She would marry a man she did not love as it was better than what would happen if she turned her back on Michael. She would be cast out and humiliated like the women who sold their body on the streets. It was unfair, but she would be looked down upon. It was clear as day that she was not happy. She would never be happy with another man for Tommy had been her everything. Had time changed that between them? Did he feel the same about her after all this time?

"What shall I do?" her question drifted up into the morning sky, and remained unanswered. She took a deep breath before standing to her feet. She walked slowly upstairs, and slipped into bed next to Michael before he realised she had left his side.

-

She awoke a few hours later to an empty bed. It was not surprising as she woke most mornings alone, with Michael waking early to deal with business. What the business was regarding, she did not know. She stayed as far away from that part of his life as possible. She knew he liked to gamble, that much was certain, but she did not know just how much.

She dressed slowly, the sleep allowing her body to rest. She was stiffer than she had been just a few hours ago, but she moved slow knowing that her body could no more. Their furniture had been placed in the rooms, and once dressed, she sat at her dressing table that was situated in the bay window. Her lip was swollen and the cut was still sore. Except it was not her small wound that shocked her, for it was her face. Dark circles stained underneath her eyes, her face was pale, and her eyes bore no spark.

She quickly made herself up, hoping that it would make herself feel better. As she placed the powder and brush down on the dressing table, she glanced at her reflection. She offered her reflection a reassuring smile before standing where she then made her way downstairs to where Michael's study was.

As she entered the large room, she was in complete awe at the wood furnishings scattered around the room. Books filled the shelves that aligned the walls, a desk sat in the middle of the room, and a piano stood proudly near the window. She watched Michael tapping furiously on his typewriter for a moment.

"It looks splendid in here," Martha commented, to which Michael glanced up. They had not spoken since the party. He saw back in his chair, his hands clasped together as he watched her looking around at the room. He remained silent.

Martha cast her gaze downwards at her shoes, before meeting his gaze. "I… apologise for last night," she whispered, hoping that her voice did not fail her. "I was in shock… I was in pain."

He did not accept her apology and Martha took note of that. She had humiliated him in front of his potential patients

"That man," Michael said after a moment. Martha's skin began to burn. "The man who took you from me. He did not hurt you, did he?"

Martha shook her head. "He did not."

"What did he want with you? Why did you go with him? Do you know him?" Michael asked the questions that had been swirling around his mind for hours.

"I do know him," Martha began. "He… he was a good friend of mine before I left this place. As I said, I only went with him because I was in shock. He just made sure I was okay."

This seemed to satisfy Michael for he made no further comment. "Very well. How are you feeling this morning?"

"I am better," Martha reassured him. She was not going to tell him that she felt horrible, and that she was in so much pain that the mere thought of moving made her nauseous.

"Good. You ruined your dress last night," Michael commented, returning to his typewriter.

Martha lowered her head and apologised. Michael nodded at her apology.

"Why don't you spend today away from this place? Invite Mary out for the day. She and her husband are on their way here. I'm sure she would enjoy your company for a few hours," Michael suggested, pulling out his wallet. He handed her a bundle of notes to which she took. "Treat yourself."

Martha did not question him as to why the Kimber's were on their way to their house, but slowly nodded her head, before Michael motioned for her to leave his study. She closed the door behind him just as a knock on the door echoed through the lobby of the house. She made her way over to answer it, getting there faster than the footman. She opened the door to reveal Billy Kimber and his wife Mary. A smirk played at her mouth as she saw the bruising on his jaw, remembering that Tommy was the reason for it. Kimber took in her own appearance, his beady eyes drinking in her body, and instantly Martha felt sick to her stomach. Never had she met a man who repulsed her more than Billy Kimber did.

"Are you going to invite us in or what?" Kimber asked, the entire façade from the night before meaning nothing. Martha willed herself to slam the door in his face, but she stepped to the side and allowed them both entry. They stepped inside the house, and Martha felt as Kimber brushed himself past her. Taking a deep breath, she noticed that Kimber and Mary had not travelled alone as a handful of men stood outside, walking around on the gravel and inspecting the house.

"You have a lovely house," Mary commented, nicely.

Martha smiled and thanked her.

"Not nearly as big as ours, mind, but it's a sufficient size," Kimber commented to which Martha rolled her eyes.

The door to Michael's study opened and Michael smiled wide as he welcomed the Kimber family. Michael and Billy spoke for a while as Mary and Martha stood awkwardly. Michael turned to his wife-to-be.

"Why don't you and Mary go out now, it's a lovely day," Michael commented, to which Martha nodded. "Take the car and enjoy yourselves."

He handed her the car keys before he disappeared into the study behind Billy. Martha turned to Mary and smiled.

"How about we let men be men and do something?" Martha asked, offering the quiet woman a small smile.

"That would be great," Mary replied, happy to be away from her husband for a while.

"We'll take the car ourselves," Martha said, opening the door to the store room and retrieving her coat from last night. Mary nodded and the two women exited the house and made their way into town. Except, neither of them expected to bump into a member of the Shelby family once they got there.