Her breath whooshed out of her in one fell swoop. “What? But I told you—”
“It is not a situation about feelings or emotions, Mary,” Rebecca said sternly, “It is about your safety and being provided for. We know you’re scared. We know marriage is a large leap from what you know and what you are used to. Every stage of life is frightening at first, but change is inevitable. We will be here whenever you need us, Mary. Lord Blackmore is just as devoted and committed to the cause of serving the Lord in the right way, just as we are.”
“But you don’t understand,” she tried, “I am not averse to marriage; it is who I am being married to that is the problem. If the man was different, younger, more lively, unconstrained, I suppose, and without those double chins, I’d be much happier.”
“Younger men are boys, Mary,” her mother said. “They will not understand or respect a woman of your stature. An older man will care for you; a younger man will not be there for you as much as the older one will be.”
Her father nodded, “A younger man’s mind will be elsewhere but with you, Mary. His friends, business and even social events will take his time. I know because I was one.”
But in a few years, I won’t be Lord Blackmore’s wife…I will be his nurse or his widow. Is that how you want me to live my life?
Looking between the two, Mary felt it would be a waste of time to try and debate with them. They had made their decision, and she was going to make hers. “I understand. Will you excuse me?”
“Don’t you want supper?” her mother asked.
“Send it to my room. I have my own…” she paused while thinking quickly, “prayers to do. I need my own confirmation from God about this matter.”
Her words earned her a pleased look passing between her parents, but Mary was not happy about deceiving them. She was not going to pray…she was going to plan. She had to escape this house and this benign betrayal from her own parents.
“God will see you through,” her mother said sweetly. “I am certain He will say to you, just as He has told us.”
She spun to take a good look at both of them, knowing that she wouldn’t see them again. Both of her parents were looking pleased. Her mother's soft-brown hair was curling around her shoulder and her smile was satisfied.
Her father’s dark-blue eyes held the same emotion under his thick brows. His face, normally stern, was relaxed as well. She forced herself to remember them as they were then, her father's dark hair streaked with gray at the sides and her mother’s oval face.
Nodding, she said, “Good night.”
She took the corridors, walking slowly through the walkways and committing what she saw to her memory. She looked at the somber paintings of Christ and the wooden frames, the padded chairs, the only divan, and the austere carpets.
Taking the stairs, she trailed her fingertips up the wooden banister and took the steps slowly. She entered her room with grief building in her heart. She did not want to run, it hurt her dearly, but her parents had not given her a choice.
Mary saw Tina sitting in the same seat she had left her, but on the table was the map. She came closer, took up the map and saw the tiny circle and the ‘x’ marked on a spot near a river. Tina stood and came closer.
“This is the place?” Mary asked.
“As close as I can give you,” Tina said. “It is a big farmhouse with a barn to the side and three wooden posts painted white in the front yard. You cannot miss it, Miss, if you get there safely.”
Scanning the map, she spoke to Tina over her shoulder, “Pack a bag for me and have it ready at all times. Choose three dresses as old as they can be and use marsh grass to scrub patches into them to make it look poorer. Pack a cloak and a few rags. We will have to act soon, not tonight but soon.”
Tina wrapped an arm around Mary’s waist and laid her head on her mistress’s arm. “I am going to miss you.”
“Me too, but…” Mary dropped the map to hug her back, “I will call for you when I get somewhere safe. My parents will blame you, and I will not let you suffer for me.”
“Just mention my name to my aunt and tell her you are a friend of mine,” Tina said, “and she will look after you.”
They broke apart when someone knocked on the door, and after Mary gave permission to enter, her supper was carried in. Smiling, Mary went to eat, knowing that soon this luxury would be gone.
* * *
Mary sat at the window, dressed in a thick cotton dress and her coat, with her bag in her hand and a satchel where the map rested. A few gold coins were sewn into the hem of her cloak. Mary sat in anxiety waiting. It was three days after her mother and father had told her that she was going to be married off. This was the night she was going to run.
Her eyes kept flitting to the doorway, with her anxiety mounting. Tina was supposed to come to her door and knock thrice. That was the signal telling her that all was well, her parents were asleep, and she was clear to run.
Her gaze trailed around the room, looking at the four-poster bed, the thin carpet underfoot and the bare wooden furniture. She had lived in this room from the day she was old enough to move from her nursery. The room had grown with her, as did her dresses and shoes.
She would not miss this room, rather, she would miss the comfort it gave her. Her heart leaped into her throat and she dropped the bag in fright when the
