"Judging by the mood at dinner, I understand that your conversation with Henry did not go over well?" Edith asked cautiously.

The two sisters were sitting close to one another on one of the pale green settees in the drawing room. Currently, they were alone with the men still in the smoking room and Lucy away to check on their little ones. She was much like Tom in that regard, they both spent an awful amount of time in the nursery with their children. Once, Violet even admonished him for spending so much time with Sybbie when she was so young, but Robert had put his foot down to stop his mother from meddling back then.

Mary looked away from her sister. Her eyes were trying desperately to find a new place to settle on that would not seem too peculiar or evasive. But she found nothing particularly suitable within her field of vision, and so her glass of port had suddenly become a lot more interesting than ever before.

After what seemed like forever, she replied: "Not at all." Her tone was soft, and to her sister, she almost sounded vulnerable. And that was not a word Edith ever used to describe anything about her elder sister before. Mary was never anything but fierce, especially in comparison to her.

"What did you decide then?" Edith asked rather casually. It wouldn't do to comment on Mary's defeated demeanour, she knew. Just like behaving overly dramatic wouldn't help, either.

Mary sighed, saying: "I asked for a divorce. I gave him my reasons and stayed as calm as I could. But he wouldn't have any of it. He won't agree to a divorce, and I have nothing as leverage. I can't divorce him without reason, I am not a man, after all. That seems to be what every struggle in my life seems to boil down to." Her voice had become quite meek and pensive when she said that last sentence and then, she suddenly paused. That one sentence must have surely been a thought she had kept inside for a very long time. She did not sound bitter or resentful when she said it, but rather crestfallen and resigned.

But before Edith could voice her thoughts, her sister already continued talking: "Anyway, he only shouted at me about how unreasonable I was being, until Tom interrupted us."

"And you don't think he will come around? Accept your decision eventually?"

Mary shook her head no, a sad and almost desperate expression etched onto her face. "I doubt he will, this is Henry we are talking about. He is about as hard-headed as I am and he feels he has done nothing to deserve this."

Edith stretched out her hand, waiting for Mary to take it. "Oh, Mary. I am so sorry, truly."

"Thank you, Edith."

They heard the door open and watched Lucy enter the drawing room again. She was returning from a short trip up to the nursery, this time with her husband and Bertie in tow. However, there was no sign of Henry anywhere.

"You know, you are quite a good replacement for Mama and her sound advice at the moment, I truly appreciate it," Mary whispered, Edith's hand still clasped in hers.

The two sisters smiled sadly at each other, no doubt thinking about their mother.

"I should retire for the night, today has worn me out quite a bit more than I thought it would," Mary said after a few more seconds had passed.

"Of course. Have a good night. And try not to think about it too much for now. You know what Mama likes to say: Things will look better in the morning. And I am certain they will."

Mary squeezed her sister's hand again, granting her an appreciative but tired smile before bidding goodnight to the others and then leaving the drawing room. But not before whispering: "But do not think I will stop teasing you every now and then, I couldn't do without that, I am afraid."

"I wouldn't want you to, and I will not stop it, either."


The lights were on. Why were the lights in her room turned on? Surely, she had turned them off when she went down to dinner. She always did.

She opened the door fully, now entering her bedroom.

And there he was, sitting in an armchair before the lit fireplace.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked – her tone was even, not giving anything away about her innermost feelings at that moment. This was one of those instances when she was truly proud of how perfect her masking abilities had become over the years.

"What does it look like? I am waiting for my wife to come upstairs to bed, obviously."

"And you truly thought that that would be a great idea, didn't you?"

She tried to keep her feelings of discontent at the situation out of her voice, doing her best to not escalate this conversation any further, just like she had in the library. But Henry seemed to have other plans.

"Well, no, but it is what a husband does after being away for so long."

He stood up, towering over Mary despite only being a few centimetres taller than her. His eyebrows were already knitting closer together, his eyes flickering dangerously.

"And whose fault was that? I certainly did not ask you to go away for a year."

She would not budge. He could try to intimidate her all he wanted. He could shout and scream to his heart's content, but she would not back down. Not this time.

"It was not your fault, but you were the reason. I told you, I want to be able to offer you a good life based on something I can do. I opened up the repair shop with Tom for you, and I gave up racing for you. I did everything for you. What else am I supposed to do?"

"And yet I never asked you to do any of that."

Henry completely ignored her answer, simply shouting: "Oh, and while we are on the topic of things you did not do: When were you going to tell me about Cora and her illness? When she had already passed?"

Just like mere hours before, he was shouting at the top of his voice, but it felt so much louder to Mary's ears. That was no doubt at least partly due to the much smaller room they found themselves in at this hour as opposed to the library downstairs. And the rest of the house was already quite tranquil at this time of night.

But Mary knew anger, she had seen her fair share of it before. Her father might be a mild, gentle and well-mannered man most of the time, but he certainly had his limits. She had witnessed a few of his angry outbursts, the first one that instantly sprang to mind being his outburst at Tom's friend, Miss Bunting, a few years ago when they had asked her to dine with them and the teacher continued to insult them and their ways in her condescending tone.

Oh yes, Mary had seen anger and she had felt her fair share of it herself before. This would not change her mind, he would not get her to back down. Henry could not intimidate her.

"I would have told you. Eventually. When I thought it would be safe to tell you. And this, right here and now, just shows me that I was right in not telling you before. Henry, my mother is dying as I gather Tom and Bertie have told you by now, and the first thing you think about is how I haven't told you before. You haven't even asked how she is feeling or how I am feeling. You never stop to think about others, not even for a minute. Now, please leave my bedroom. I asked Anna to make up a bed for you in the bachelor's corridor. I am sure you will be able to find that room by yourself. And do not bother to try and come in here again until you are able to communicate properly. I won't have you insult and belittle me, we are both grown adults and it is about time you behaved like one."

She walked over to her bed, tugging at the cord hanging to the side of it to ring for Anna to help her undress for the night. Then she busied herself with taking off the parts of her jewellery she could on her own, while he only stood there, his fists balled, glaring daggers at her.

"You rang, my Lady?"

Anna walked into the room, her nightgown already folded neatly over her left arm, as she completely ignored Henry's presence in the room – which only seemed to enrage him even more. But he had to acknowledge that any conversation they might have had was undoubtedly over with her maid now in the room with them.

"Yes, Anna. I am ready to call it a day and get out of this corset. I am afraid we tied it up quite tightly today."

"Certainly, milady."

That seemed to do the trick. He exhaled deeply, leaving the room in a huff, just like he had done with Bertie and Tom earlier that night.

"He did not take it well then, I understand?" Anna asked without any hesitation after the door closed behind him. Had it been any other employer she surely would not have, but the two women had formed a tight bond over the many years, no doubt furthered by them being this close in age, and she knew that she could ask her mistress that question without getting into trouble.

Then, the small blonde woman started to help Mary undress, starting to undo the corset she had been mildly complaining about and then helping her into her nightclothes while they kept their conversation up.

"No, not at all. He is fighting tooth and nail to not have to see his fault in this. I am glad you came this quickly, I do not think I could have taken much more of his shouting without leaving the room again or saying something I would have regretted."

"I saw you going up and I already thought he would do something like this. I assigned him the room furthest away from yours at the far end of the bachelor's corridor."

"Thank you, Anna. You are a heaven-sent."