Title: Those Qualities Upon Which Friendship Lives
Author: Mena
Summary: Mary returns to Misselthwaite Manor from boarding school in London more of a lady than ever and Dickon sees her in a new light -- the problem is, so does Colin.
Ship: Mary/Dickon
Disclaimer: The characters in this story were created by Frances Hodgson Burnett and published in 1911 as "The Secret Garden". I do not own the characters. The Secret Garden is now in the public domain and money *can* be made off of it as Susan Moody did with her sequel, "Return to the Secret Garden". This disclaimer applies to all chapters of this story as it appears here at FFN.
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Chapter Thirteen
The cold harsh light of dawn streamed through the window of the cottage, rousing Mary from sleep. Opening her eyes, Mary started. Where? – Ahh yes, Dickon's bedroom. The momentary confusion cleared and Mary sat up in bed, listening for any sounds of activity beyond the closed door. Hearing nothing, she got out of bed and dressed herself. Smoothing her skirts, she approached the door and listened again. Wondering if Dickon could still be asleep, she carefully opened the door and peered into the adjacent room. The couch where they had sat having tea the night before stood empty. A fire crackled in the hearth but just barely.
Mary stepped into the kitchen and retrieved the kettle to warm some water for morning tea. Before the kettle set to boil, Dickon entered the room.
"Good morning," said Mary. She smiled brightly.
"Good mornin', lass. I didn't want to wake thee," he said.
"I didn't even know you'd gone," she replied. "Would you like some tea? It's almost ready."
Dickon held his hat in his hands a moment and looked upon Mary.
"What is it?" she asked. "You're looking at me strangely."
"I just love thee is all," he said. "Fixin' me tea just like we were married." He hung up his hat on the nearby rack and embraced her.
"This is what it will be like," she said. A little knot clenched in her stomach, and Mary ignored it. It was probably just nerves at the prospect of such a life changing decision. She would be a wife and have new responsibilities; no more life in a looming manor, but happiness in a tiny cottage. The knot came back a bit stronger, threatening her jovial mood. Again she pushed it down. She would have to give it its due later, when she was alone. Right now Dickon's strong arms enveloped her and she breathed in the scent of heather and gorse from the moors.
"Sleep well?" asked Dickon.
"Yes, quite well. Your bed is so soft, it's like sleeping on a cloud," said Mary. "There was only one thing missing, though."
Dickon smiled. "None of that now, Miss Mary," he said, squeezing her tighter.
"Do let me have my fun," she said.
"I'd best get thee home. They'll be wondering where you'd got to."
"I know Martha will, especially."
"Aye, that she will," he said. "Our Martha is pleased as can be."
"She'll have another sister," Mary said. "And I'll have one. I think it will be wonderful having a sister."
"You two can do all your talkin' when we get thee home," he said. Dickon pulled away and looked around the room. "Is there anything tha's missing?"
Mary gathered up her things and the two set off back to the manor. As they walked, they discussed the engagement party, and Dickon confided that he shied away from such things and better enjoyed staying in the background.
"But we are the guests of honor so you must stand up with me, of course!" said Mary. She knew how hard it was for Dickon to feel comfortable among upper society, but he would have to try for her sake. His reluctance to be part of the world in which she had been brought up was both refreshing and disturbing. They would have to tread carefully between those worlds, something not easily done under even the best of circumstances. Social hierarchies had their way of separating people. Mary knew one of her biggest responsibilities would be as a bridge to allow their families to become one.
As Mary thought about her family and how she had lost her parents so many years before, she felt grateful for her Uncle Archibald's kindness in allowing her to come live at Misselthwaite. She'd had no one, no family or friends in the world, and he had given her so many precious gifts. Without coming to England she never would have met Dickon or have ever set foot in the secret garden.
Even knowing her cousin Colin had been a blessing, though their relationship had start out on rocky terrain. Watching him grow from a fearful and bedridden boy into a strong and healthy young man had been part of the Magic they all shared. Now Colin posed a problem, and Mary wished she could make things right again. She loved Colin very much, and at one point thought perhaps she could love him as more than just family. Through her time at school there was only ever one person she truly pined for in her heart, and that was her beloved Dickon. It was a crushing thing to realize, since she knew Colin had favored her for so long. How could she break his heart? Now he'd taken up with some woman Mary didn't know, and she worried for Colin yet again. She had to find out who this Catherine person was, and if the match was something true or just as a way to get back at her for her announcement. Her heart could accept it if Colin actually cared for this woman, but Mary suspected he was simply using her and it would all end very badly.
She held Dickon's hand tightly.
"Tha looks so serious," Dickon said.
"It's nothing," Mary said. "I don't really want to go back, that's all."
Dickon gave Mary's hand a squeeze and he smiled knowingly. "We mun face the day," he said. Mary nodded and they continued their walk in silence all the way to the manor.
Dickon and Mary were greeted by Martha, who was outside sweeping the entryway.
"Oh, tha's 'ere!" she said, beaming. "I'm so excited about the party, Miss Mary. I can 'ardly wait! The Master's at home and wanted to see you when you came back."
Mary looked at Dickon. "I'd better go. I shall see you for lunch in the garden?"
"Aye," said Dickon. He smiled but did not attempt to kiss her goodbye in front of his sister. With a slight hesitation, he turned and went outside, leaving the ladies to speak alone.
"Dickon looks so happy," said Martha. "He's always been good natured but I've never seen him smiling so much before."
"Yes," Mary said, looking out the door toward the garden. "We're both very happy. If only…" she stopped short, not wanting to talk about Colin too much.
Martha seemed to understand and dropped the conversation, excusing herself to finish her cleaning while Mary went to see her uncle. She approached the heavy door and heard nothing within, so she knocked loudly.
"Come in," she heard Uncle Archie say.
"You wanted to see me, Uncle Archie?"
"Yes, child." He paused. "I don't think I should call you that anymore, as you're soon to be a married woman. It is so hard a habit to break, thinking of you as you were years ago. We have missed you while you were away at school, though I was glad to have you safely 'stored away' as the headmistress put it. Well worth the money."
"Is anything wrong?" Mary asked. Uncle Archie seemed more melancholy than usual. Perhaps the strain of the past week's events were too much for him. Perhaps he had been reminded of his own marriage and subsequent loss.
"I'm worried for Colin, though I don't want to burden you with it."
"How could I not be, though?" Mary said factually. "He'd been my close friend for years and now he will hardly look me in the eye. It's as if he hates me, and I never meant for that to happen."
"I know, my dear. Colin still has some growing up to do, and I don't know if the garden's magic can help him now."
"I'd like to think it could, Sir."
Archie nodded. "Yes. I would, as well."
"Did he speak to you about his new lady-friend, Catherine?"
"He had mentioned her, yes. I didn't want to bring the matter to you as of course I find it inappropriate for him to try and cast a shadow on your days."
"I don't know if he's doing it deliberately to hurt me," Mary said. "I think he's just…hurt. I could try and talk to him again, but he has been avoiding me, I'm afraid."
"We will do our best, won't we, Mary?" Uncle Archie seemed to be asking for a favor of sorts.
"I will of course always be his friend."
Archibald ran his fingers through his hair. His face seemed weary and strained. "I shouldn't have let him get involved in the war."
"It was not something you could control, Uncle Archie."
His face lightened a little, and Mary pressed on.
"It was his duty, and I think he would have rather gone into it than not. He can be proud of his service and bravery."
"So young yet so wise," Archie said. He smiled. "Again, you are right."
"Don't worry, Uncle Archie. We're all going to be fine. You'll see. Colin will come around."
"I will?" Colin's voice sounded in the room, starting both occupants.
"Colin!" Mary said, turning around to find him standing in the doorway. "I'm glad to see you."
"Are you?" he said sarcastically.
"Give Mary a chance, son," said Archie.
"Yes, give Mary a chance. Fine."
"Must you be so sour, Colin?" asked Mary. She didn't like the look on his face; he looked angry and fierce.
"Shall we go for a walk, cousin?" he said, turning and walking into the hallway.
Mary glanced at her uncle, who nodded to her. Sighing, she followed Colin out of the manor and into the fields behind the great house.
"Colin, what's wrong?" She wished she could take it back the moment she'd said it. Such a stupid thing to say to him, of course she already knew what was wrong.
"So where is your beloved? Working in the garden again?" Colin's voice sounded snide.
"He's your friend, too. You shouldn't speak that way about him. Nothing's changed!"
He stopped and whirled around to face her. "Everything has changed!"
"Don't you have a woman in your life now? Don't you care about her?"
"She's just a whore, Mary."
Mary gasped. Colin had never used such language in her presence before. Thoughts swirled in her head of Colin with this woman. Disgust overcame her and her mouth gaped open.
"What, you've never heard of one before, Mary? What did they teach you in your fancy school, how to pour the perfect cup of tea? This is real life. Things aren't as pretty and lovely and easy as all that."
Mary thought she heard the hint of a quaver in his voice as he said this, but she couldn't be certain. They stood together on the hill, with the house just below them and the multiple manicured gardens to the east. A breeze picked up and rustled through Mary's hair, bringing with it the scent of heather.
Colin continued walking away from the house and Mary followed him. "Where are we going?" she asked.
"I just want to get away from the house and everyone in it. We used to take walks together, remember? We'd comb the moors, you and me. When Dickon went home to his family and it was Martha's day off, we would come out here to get away from Mrs. Medlock and Ben and all the servants. We explored that house from top to bottom, and then we took to walking. It was our time together, Mary. I grew to love you more and more every time, with every step."
"I've always loved you, Colin. It's just not the same as with Dickon."
"If he hadn't been here, you would be marrying me."
"If Dickon hadn't been here, you may never have walked. You may never have gotten out of that bed and out of the house. It was Dickon who helped me plant the garden and I so wanted you to see it. I couldn't have done it by myself. Don't downplay how he helped you just because you're jealous." Mary stated all of this boldly, though Colin's demeanor frightened her. She wouldn't let him know it, though. Anger did strange things to people, as did envy. Mary remembered her parents, how they would argue about trivial matters almost just for the sake of being angry. Her father had never struck her mother that she'd witnessed, but a great many expensive items had suffered at their hands during some of the more raucous fights. It was at those moments Mary would run to her Ayah and try to hide in her skirts and sari. She was little enough then, but there was nowhere to hide now.
Colin remained silent, looking Mary over. She shivered although the air was warm with the sun rising to its peak overhead.
"I won't give up, Mary."
"Can't you just be happy for me?"
"My heart is empty without you, you don't understand."
"So you try to fill it with the Catherine's of the world? Is that really you, Colin? I don't think so," said Mary. She kept her voice soft and tried to evoke the concern she felt for her dear friend. Their friendship was dangling over a precipice, and Mary wasn't sure she knew how to bring it back to safety.
Colin approached her, but Mary didn't move away. She feared he might strike her in his anger, but instead he placed his hand against her cheek and caressed her face gently. "Mary," he whispered. His blue eyes were pleading, and Mary stood rooted to the ground. She held her breath as Colin leaned in closer. Before she could think to react, Colin's lips were upon hers and he pulled her close to him in a tight embrace. Mary was too stunned to know what to do, but her wits returned after a few awkward seconds and she pushed Colin away more forcefully than she'd intended.
"What are you doing, Colin?" she asked.
His cheeks were flushed and his breathing heavy. "I need you, Mary."
"This isn't right. Don't ever do that again!" Mary turned to go back to the house.
"Please, Mary." Colin sounded wounded.
Mary stopped and turned around. "Colin, I love you and always will, but I am not in love with you as I am with Dickon. I will be your friend – we both will. We will always be here for you, but I cannot return your affection. I just can't. I want you to be happy for me. I want you to find someone you can love – not these sad excuses for "love" you've been spending your days and nights with, but someone who can love you as you deserve. Please be happy for me, Colin. You and Dickon are my best friends and I don't want to lose you."
"Mary, it's not that easy for me."
"It's not easy for me, either." She paused. "If you love me…if you truly love me…do this for me, Colin."
Colin looked as if he might start to cry. Mary had seen Colin in his rage but nothing he'd said or done was as frightening as the look he gave her now. The angry young man had disappeared and in his place stood a boy defeated.