Maria opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it back up. It was not an ideal setting, sure. But Maria barely understood why it would be a big matter that would lead to a duel.
“It would be good if you did not panic so much,” Maria frowned.
“But you have given me cause to panic,” Violet said, shaking her head. “I think that you do not know that in our society, this is the worst smear that a woman can have on her before marriage.”
Maria felt her breath hitch. Violet’s description was making it sound much less appealing than what she had gauged from the overheard conversation earlier. She thought that it would be an inconvenience at best, but ultimately, it would bring her closer to the goal of getting married.
But somehow, listening to Violet now, it seemed to be the opposite.
“Oh, tell me,” Violet turned to face her, “what possessed you to do such a thing?”
Because I am tired of being a guest, Maria did not say. Because I am tired of not belonging to my own future, and because I wish to be married as soon as I can.
“You and Nicholas have been so kind. You feed me and I occupy your rooms. We have known one another for such a short time, and I am already one more thing that must be accounted for,” she sighed, letting herself be honest. “You are almost strangers to me; I am one to you. I am grateful, and I am afraid of exhausting your kindness. If I am married, I will at least be… placed. I will cease to be a burden you do not admit is a burden.”
“You are not a burden,” Violet said immediately. The panic in her voice shifted slightly to make room for her concern.
But the atmosphere of the room had changed entirely after her little speech. Maria had made her point, and even the duke seemed caught off guard. Was it sympathy that she saw in his expression? She dared not let her gaze linger too long, lest it confirm it.
“I know what it is to host an extra person,” Maria said miserably. “It is not a thing I wish to be, in anyone’s life.”
“Have we ever made you feel as though you are a burden?” Violet asked. Bless her, she was too kind. “We have tried our best to make you feel welcome, if anything.”
“No, you misunderstand me. It is not you who makes me feel as though I am imposing, rather it is my own understanding of things.” Maria shook her head. “But it is not something that you need to say out loud. In time, you shall feel it, and I fear that will be too late. To preserve our relationship, it is better if I find myself a home.”
“You believe that we will grow tired of you?” Violet said.
Maria did not answer, but the answer was implied, and it was a resounding yes.
“And this is the way that you choose to go about it?” Stephen added, but Violet shot him a look. “Peculiar methods, I would just like to add.”
“Yes, I agree with you,” Maria nodded. “My methods have not been the best, and perhaps there has been a grave miscalculation on my part. But I intend on making my intention clear and…”
“Maria, I believe you need to relax,” Violet said as she came over to her. Suddenly, it was as though they had switched places. Now, Maria was the one panicking, and Violet was the one who was trying to get her to calm down. “We can find a way.”
Stephen stepped closer to them, eyeing them both for a moment with a peculiar curiosity. Strangely, though, Maria did not feel judged by him.
“It is precisely the moment for practicalities.” He folded his arms. The motion made his forearms deliberate, and Maria panicked again at the sight. She had never seen a man like this up close, and it unsettled her, but not in a bad way. “Your Grace,” he said to Violet, “you have two tasks: first, to keep someone from opening this door again; second, to decide whether you wish for a scandal or a solution.”
“I wish for neither,” Violet snapped. “I wish the last five minutes had not happened.”
“As do I,” Maria whispered.
Stephen looked at her, and something very small in his face changed.
“Miss Havenford,” he said, “you thought this was my cousin’s chamber.”
“Yes.”
“And you thought… what? That if you were seen here, he would be forced to the altar?”
“I…people speak as if it is so. A recipe.”
“Where did you get that idea from?” Stephen asked.
“Well,” she bit down her lip, “It matters not where I got the idea from, but surely, it is not unheard of.”
“Yes, but we hear a great many things in society,” Stephen continued. “That does not mean that we must emulate them.”