Chapter Sixteen

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"I'm not certain this lady's maid business will work out after all."

Mary blinked at her. "But last night, we agreed—"

"Not truly. I'm certain we were all tired when we came up with that nonsense. In the light of day, things are much clearer."

Mary sat up straighter. "Is that so?"

"Indeed it is," Prudence said with a cunning smile. "You see, there's something--"

"Perhaps I misunderstood, but I thought we agreed that poor Maggie must not be worked too hard."

"It's Meg," Emilia said tightly. Though she would be happy not to tend to Mary, she also didn't like the idea of Meg doing it. She'd seen how she'd berated the poor girl already.

"It's very kind of us," Mary said, delicately taking a dainty bite of her sliver of toast. "As I was saying, my dresses--"

"There's something you've not told us, Mary, and it's really quite unfair." Prudence turned and strolled to the window with a wink at Emilia. "If you are to be privy to our secrets, I think it only fair for us to know yours. How else can we help each other?"

"I have no secrets," Mary said blandly, now nibbling delicately on one of her six raspberries.

"Do you not?" Prudence turned back with a flourish fit for the stage. "Then perhaps it's common knowledge that your mother not only disapproved of your coming here, but expressly forbade it. However did you change her mind?"

Mary's lips thinned. "Whatever Cecilia says, she exaggerates. Perhaps Mama would rather I come home earlier, but that is not the same as...as... If that little sneak—"

"Cecilia Marbury told her nothing," Emilia broke in urgently. From what she gathered, the poor girl was being insulted by Mary enough. She would not add to her burden. Besides, it was true. Cecilia had provided nothing, except confirming that Mary was as much a beast as ever.

"Miss Marbury?" Prudence scoffed. "Honestly, she believes me a maid. Do you think she would betray confidences to me?"

"Ah, so it was her maid that—"

"No!" Emilia broke in, catching Prudence's elbow until she turned to her, then giving a very slight shake of her head. "No... no one told her anything, except..." She couldn't think of a thing to finish that with, but she didn't want poor Meg punished by whatever means Mary saw fit. "...except your own mother," Emilia finished, wondering if that would wash. It was partially true. "She... she..."

"She came to tea at Crewe House just before we departed," Prudence supplied, quick as ever.

Emilia nodded eagerly. "Aye, Miss Prudence told me all about it."

"Yes! I told her where we were bound and... and she informed us -- and quite vehemently, mind you --  that you would never attend an affair like this and..." Prudence pretended to search her mind, tapping her chin. "And that you would not only never marry beneath you, but that you would be forbidden to mingle with such rabble... something like that."

Mary stared at her a moment, frowning. "That does sound rather like Mama."

It should. It came from her letters.

"But she's not truly a woman of the world," Mary said, squeezing lemon into her tea, calm as she pleased. "I daresay she's not been away from Pickering nearly as much as I have. At her age, she doesn't see that the world is changing. Mother wants one kind of life for me and I... disagree. She thinks nothing less than an earl will do, so much that she'd even settle for one who's old. And I think there is more to life than titles."

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