Garden of May

Chapter 85

“My lady, here you are.”

“Thank you, Mary.”

Vanessa smiled faintly, accepting the thick envelope from Mary’s hand. Mary simply nodded, her expression impassive, and quietly left the room. It had been a little over two weeks since Mary started posting manuscripts and visiting the publisher in Bath on Vanessa’s behalf. Everything was because of money. Her younger brother’s condition had worsened, and the hospital bills had become too much for a maid’s wages to cover.

“You’ll pay me for this?”

Vanessa wanted to contribute every penny she could spare, however small the amount. But Mary flatly refused, saying there was no reason for her to accept the her money. Perhaps it was her conscience. She was already receiving higher wages than the other maids for keeping an eye on Vanessa.

“To keep him in his current room, I need an extra five pounds a week…. No, I’d better refuse. What if I lose my nerve when you try to run away? This is my livelihood.”

“I won’t run away, Mary.”

“They all say that. But if you knew how many young ladies run off with their lovers right before their weddings, you wouldn’t say such a thing.”

“Look, here. It’s a letter from the publisher.”

Mary eyed the proffered letter with deep suspicion, as if it were an explosive about to detonate. Then, after reading it, she looked at Vanessa with utter astonishment.

“You really wrote this novel?”

“Yes. I’ve been paying the milkman to post the manuscript for me. I’ll give you the money I was giving him if you take over.”

“The milkman…. So that’s why….”

“If my uncle knows I can earn my own living, he might reconsider my marriage. This is a notebook where I’ve kept track of the royalties I’ve received so far. I’ve been saving a little each month to persuade my uncle, setting aside only what I need for university tuition.”

Of course, most of the ‘university tuition’ she’d saved had been spent on gifts for Rosaline and Blair. The thought of the lost pendant and cufflinks brought a pang of regret.

“You’ve saved quite a bit.”

“It was becoming increasingly difficult to meet the milkman secretly, and he only comes on Wednesdays. So, Mary, I was hoping you could help me….”

Since then, Mary had been handling a few small tasks for her. She’d been delivering the manuscript to the postman every morning, avoiding Uncle Wyatt’s watchful eye. And on weekends, when Vanessa visited her brother, Mary would collect the edited proofs from the publisher. Like today.

Vanessa gathered her thoughts and quickly slit open the envelope with a paper knife. A short comment from the editor was written in the corner of the first page of the thick manuscript.

[Your writing on relationships has deepened considerably. Miss Welsh’s first encounter with the ‘naval officer,’ a murder suspect, was also impressive. I presume we’ll learn this intriguing character’s name when they meet again?

The scene where they’re trapped in the small changing room, and where Miss Welsh pretends not to touch the ‘naval officer’s’ chest, was particularly….]

“My lady.”

Startled, Vanessa hastily put down the manuscript. It was rather unsuitable reading material for this early in the morning. And of all the passages to be reading…. Vanessa fanned her flushed cheeks and looked up.

“What, um… what is it?”

The maid who had entered the room widened her eyes, seemingly taken aback by Vanessa’s flustered reaction.

“I knocked, but you didn’t seem to hear…. The imported veil from Cologne has just arrived. Would you like to try it on now?”

“Now?”

“Lady Rosaline is waiting in the drawing-room.”

Vanessa hesitated for a moment, then composed herself and put the letter away as if nothing had happened.

“Yes…. Tell her I’ll be down shortly.”

“Very well, my lady.”

The maid curtsied politely and turned to leave. Vanessa watched her go, a strange feeling washing over her. Lately, the staff at Gloucester Manor had been treating her differently. While some still regarded her as a ticking time bomb, more and more maids had been showing her kindness. They sometimes smiled when their eyes met, and they seemed genuinely pleased when she shared the treats she’d received as gifts. Custard cream, her favorite, had even appeared as dessert at dinner….