I awoke the next morning with a strange determination. My mind was muddled, and my perception was cloudy. But somewhere inside myself, as my feet carried me outside towards James's hut, I knew what I was going to do before I ever really knew it.
He met me halfway, smiling once he realized that I had sought him out. He had grown uncomfortable since the death of my mother, and I believed that he was deeply hurt that he had not been invited to the service. It was not a slight, though.
I had simply forgotten about him.
He took my hand next to the newly finished fence. He noticed my bare feet and smirked playfully.
"I take it you were anxious to see me?"
I glanced down, noticing for the first time that I had forgotten my shoes. It was a common occurrence nowadays; sometimes it was my shoes, sometimes it was my buttons. I never felt embarrassed. So many things seemed so trivial now.
I shook my head, fighting off the annoyed feeling that had developed now that I had lost my train of thought.
"No. I mean, yes. I needed to speak with you."
He grasped my hands tightly; examining my knuckles self-consciously as I looked back to the house, making sure no one was within hearing distance.
"I needed to speak to you also, Mary."
I wanted to take my hands away, remembering the night before, and the feel of arms around me.
He was holding on too firmly though.
"I wanted to say how sorry I am about your mother's passing."
I shifted uncomfortably, nodding in an understanding way, though only half my mind was on what he was saying.
"I am sorry I was not there for you."
"That was not your fault." I did not want him to feel bad, he did not deserve that.
"I can only imagine how difficult it is for you to be in that house now; sleeping alone." I nodded, blinking back tears.
"That is why I had hoped that you would accept my hand in marriage." He pulled me closer to him, resting my hands against his chest. "I can take you away from there. Not far, but far enough, so that you are not reminded; so that you do not have to worry about serving others, and can think of yourself first. I will have enough for my farm in only a few months."
I saw the sincerity in his eyes and was hit with a wave of pity for him. It was followed by guilt though. Who was I to feel sorry for him? Who was I to act as though the loss of my love was some great catastrophe that he would never recover from?
My hands slipped from his, "No."
He looked confused, and I wondered if he could really be so naïve as to be shocked.
"What?"
"I will not."
"Have I done," he paused, gathering his thoughts, "have I done something to displease you?"
"No." I ran a tired hand over my face, "Heaven's no, James. You have always been so kind. I just - I do not love you."
His face darkened, frustration distorting his handsome features.
"You do not? Then why have you allowed me to court you?"
"I was not sure until-"
"Until what?" His voice rose, anger ringing out through the trees.
"Until . . ." How could I explain to him? I glanced towards the house.
He frowned. "Oh, is that it?" He laughed, but there was no mirth to it. "I cannot believe this. You can't be so naïve as to think anything will come of that. You'd throw me over for some fantasy of being spirited away by him?"
"He has nothing to do with this."
"He has everything to do with this. What has he promised you?" His face darkened even more. "What has he already gotten from you?"
I stepped back from him, anger flaring in my chest. "How dare you? Is this the sort of man you are when faced with disappointment? I am now more sure than ever that my choice is the right one." I turned away and stalked back up the path to the house.
Jane was standing on the porch steps, evidently having witnessed the whole incident. She grabbed my wrist as I started to pass her.
"What is it you're stirring up, miss?"
"I am not stirring anything, my lady. Will you please release me?"
She only held onto me tighter, jerking my arm harshly. "Have you cast your eye on things too high for you? Do you not remember your place?"
"My eye has remained simple, I assure you. I am fully aware of where I stand. I have resigned myself to my fate." In a sudden burst of courage and recklessness, I blurted out, "I will never have him. And neither will you."
A beat of tenseness passed before she reared her hand back and struck me against the cheek as if I were some unruly child.
I did the only thing I thought right.
I struck her back.