Chapter Text
And so it was that I found myself engaged. Tom, as it turned out, was a person more suited to me than I could have ever possibly hoped to meet when I still languished in Meryton. Although I had, in fact, been lucky enough to encounter several individuals since coming to London with whom I got along splendidly, there was no one quite like Tom.
The quiet gentleness he possessed was such a stark contrast to what I had been surrounded by during my upbringing. His good and careful nature always pleased me, and I found myself unable to contain my smile even during the most unremarkable of conversations with him. As for his smile, I enjoyed that greatly too. It was wide and friendly, and caused his warm, sparkling eyes to crinkle at the corners.
I will admit that when I finally took myself off to bed in the evening on the day we became engaged, but not before having shared the news with the Gardiners and receiving their delighted congratulations, I looked forward to allowing myself a moment or two to bask in the joy of knowing that I was at last permitted to think of Tom, my Tom, without guilt.
Before, when I was first made aware of his arrangement with Ann Baxter—who had quickly become very dear to me—I would lie awake at night and scold myself for picturing his capable hands, which led to strong looking forearms that I knew would never wrap around me, for he was soon to belong to someone else—a friend of mine, no less.
But now, I had learned what it felt like to be held by him—to be kissed by him, even—and I permitted myself to conjure images of us within one another’s embrace. My memory transported me back to that very afternoon, in the park, when at last my most secret wish had been granted. I’d accepted his proposal, a real proposal, and received my first kiss.
Innocently enough, I wondered whether Tom might have also retired for the evening, and if he was, at that very moment, lying in a bed across town, perhaps even thinking of me. I felt my cheeks grow warm, then, as I envisioned him in some state of undress, and I must admit that I felt something of a stirring within me, although I did not know how to remedy it. Suffice it to say, I slept fitfully that night. Much to my despair, the guilt I had hoped to avoid after allowing myself my indulgent thoughts still visited me, no doubt exacerbated by that which I’d gone on to ponder.
And the very next night, it happened again.
Tom had come to call during the day, finding time enough away from his desk to join the elder Gardiners and me for tea. The children were out, and my aunt and uncle made themselves scarce after tea, although I sensed that they were bubbling with excitement. I was determined to sit down with them at some stage and beg their assistance with wedding organisation, if only to allow them some involvement.
I was happy to do this, since I had no real talent for such planning and did not wish to ask my mother for that kind of help. I was aware that I would have to conjure another task for her, if only to avoid her loud dissatisfaction. I knew not what that task might be yet, though, since I was already wholly determined to be married on my own terms: mine and Tom’s.
When we were finally alone, enjoying a moment of quiet in the drawing room, Tom, rather unexpectedly, reached for my hand where it rested on the arm of the sofa. He was right next to me in an armchair, and after he had enclosed my hand in his own, he brought it to his lips, causing my heart to flutter. His eyes were closed, his fingers warm but a little rough where they touched me.
And his touch… it did something to me. My breaths came quicker than I would have liked, and I teetered near to dizziness. I felt as though my heart had crept out of my chest and taken up residence within my throat. It was very unlike me to become so flustered, and yet, I kept remembering my visions from the previous night—the images of Tom in bed. I stood up abruptly, yanking my hand from his grasp with too much force.
“Forgive me, Tom, I… I suddenly feel…”
My speech trailed off as I cast about for the correct words to describe what was happening. I was not unwell, not indisposed. Nothing was really wrong, and yet I felt somehow upturned. I did not wish to lie to the man I loved, but I had no idea how to explain my predicament. It was a particular kind of overwhelm that I’d had no previous experience of.
Tom got to his feet and stepped towards me, his furrowed brow revealing his concern. “Mary, are you ill?”
I shook my head. At least he had not realised what had happened. He was unaware that his touch had driven me to distraction.
“No, I—I think I am too hot, that is all.” I gestured to my earthy-orange skirts. “This new dress is of a thicker fabric than I’m used to. Perhaps I should not have worn it today.”
Tom smiled. “The rain made it chilly this morning. I can see why you chose such a dress. And I do like the colour you’ve picked.”
“Thank you, Tom,” I said quietly. I looked up at him through the lenses of my spectacles and saw eyes full of tenderness gazing back at me. “I am so grateful to you for your visit, but, sadly, I think I must get on.”
“Of course, of course,” Tom replied, quick to be helpful, as always.
His frown lingered, but only slightly. It seemed as if he were still trying to tackle the puzzle of what had happened, but he did not want to ask me. If I only knew how to tell him. But one did not speak of these things. At least not with one’s intended.
When I retired that evening, I did everything in my power to avoid a repeat of what had happened the night before. I picked up a book I had long meant to begin—one reputable tourist’s new account of several mountains in the Scottish Highlands, a place I had thought to visit on occasion.
But, alas, I could not concentrate. What began as a well-intentioned distraction soon deteriorated, as I could only think of taking in the sweeping locations I read about with Tom by my side. Before long, I was imagining a post-wedding trip and what it would entail. We would be married by then, of course, and sharing one bedroom… likely one bed.
I was entirely unprepared for such a thing and knew not what to do about it. I began to experience something akin to panic as I considered this, and forced myself to take deep, steadying breaths. I’d been so ready to live out the rest of my years as a governess, loved only by my family and friends and therefore never to be anyone’s bedfellow. What faced me now was entirely the opposite of what I’d anticipated my future life to look like.
And I wanted it, of course. That was my dilemma. I wanted to have new experiences with Tom. But I had little knowledge of wifely duties. Any time something of the sort had been alluded to in a book I was reading, I simply skimmed over it. More recently, I had accepted that those pleasures were not my province, and never would be. But that had now changed.
Tom would undoubtedly have certain expectations. His being a man and more worldly than I, if not more learned, was another challenge for me to rise to. I grew increasingly flustered then and decided to come out from beneath my tangled sheets. I began to pace the room and splashed my face with cool water from the basin in the corner before settling myself in the chair at my desk, knowing that a return to bed may refresh the very thoughts I was attempting to avoid.
Who could I turn to for help in this matter?
Not my mother. Never her. For a moment, I considered approaching Mrs Gardiner. I was certain she would attempt to reassure me, and her marriage was a happy and prosperous one, as far as I could tell. But I was still living under her roof. I baulked at the thought of having such a conversation, then seeing her every day until I was married and Tom and I had found a home of our own. And what if she told my uncle what we had discussed? It did not bear thinking about.
No. I would have to come up with some other means of gaining information, in the hope that I would lose no more sleep over my concerns. And, a little voice in my head piped up, perhaps then I’d be able to approach my marriage with confidence, rather than trepidation. I wanted to do right by Tom and ensure he did not regret his decision to pursue me. I sighed heavily, resigning myself to another disturbed night. Eventually, I returned to bed resolved to tackle the problem again in the morning.