Violet had sat on the edge of Maria’s bed and explained, quietly and without flinching, what Maria’s mistake meant.
You could have ruined yourself completely,Violet had said, her fingers warm over Maria’s cold ones.And Nicholas with you. Not by wickedness but by carelessness. It would not matter that you meant no harm. If a maid saw you enter or leave. If a footman paused and heard you speak. It takes so little to make a tale and so much to mend it.
Maria had listened, ashamed.
I thought….she had begun, and could not finish.
Now she stood in the breakfast parlor and did not know where to put her body.
“Good morning,” Prudence Bastable murmured, appearing at Maria’s elbow with a small plate. “Breakfast is lovely, is it not?”
Immediately, having her around put Maria at ease. She was one of her friends at the nunnery. Recently, she had been reunited with her family. It brought her some solace that someone else was having the same experience, fitting into society as her.
“Good morning.” Maria tried on a smile. “I’ll opt for the roll, I think.”
They moved together and then both took a seat.
The breakfast table was a full house. Nearly all of the guests had now appeared. Nicholas looked as he always did at breakfast in a full house: delighted. The sight of him made Maria’s eyes sting. He would not look like that if he knew what she had almost done to his name.
She felt a sense of paranoia overcome her. What if someone at the table knew what she had gotten up to the night before? She scanned the faces of the guests, which appeared to be innocent enough at first glance. Still, what was to say that they did not know?
She felt as though her life was a game of Chinese whispers, where gossip would travel from one curious ear to the other until finally ending in her ruin.
What would be worse?She thought to herself. A life forever confined in the nunnery, or a life forever confined as a burden in her brother's house, because no one would want to marry her after they found out?
Of course, there was the third option of her marrying the duke… but somehow, that felt like a far-off reality that would never come to fruition. Still, the idea made her cheeks turn red.
“Maria?” Prudence said softly.
“Huh?” Maria said, snapping out of her reverie. “What?”
“You seem rather worried about something,” Prudence said, as perceptive as always. “Is something the matter?”
“Oh, nothing,” Maria tried to wave her hand.
“You are a terrible liar,” Prudence countered. “You must tell me. It would take the load off your mind.”
“But there is nothing to say,” Maria said, lying again. It was not as though she did not trust Prudence; she did. Very much so. But she did not wish to speak about it yet.
Somehow, speaking about it would make it all the more real. And besides, she had already made a vow to Violet that the incident would not leave her mouth.
“There is always something to say,” Prudence shrugged her shoulders. “Of course, if you do not wish to indulge…”
“Do not take it personally,” Maria offered a smile and then squeezed her friend's hand. “But it would be better if we only focus on our breakfast for now.”
Prudence looked as though she had more to say, but before that, they were interrupted.
“Miss Havenford.” Peter Morton’s voice called out. “May I…?”
“Please,” Maria said. She indicated the chair to her right.
Peter sat at a distance required by propriety.
“Did you sleep properly, Miss Havenford?”
“Yes,” Maria nodded. Their conversation continued. He asked for nothing thrilling, only whether she had slept, whether the music had pleased her, and whether she had tried the marmalade.
“I slept tolerably. The music was lovely. The marmalade looks very fine,” She heard herself reply, polite and flat and much too short.