The Reformer by Jaima Fixsen

Author:Jaima Fixsen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780991831074
Published: 2016-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Victors camped on the heights. Of that, Mary was sure. She refused to go to her room, so she took possession of her father’s library, exultation and apprehension prickling her skin. She half expected Papa to come after her, but instead he began a shouting match with Aunt Yates, crushing her shrill protests that she couldn’t be blamed, that raising Mary was impossible with her fragile health. Papa, in a voice to shake the rafters, insisted it was entirely her fault Mary was totally unmanageable. If she had taken more trouble in Mary’s education, garnered the energy to see her bestowed in an appropriate social sphere, none of this would have happened.

When Aunt Yates erupted into hysterics and fled to her room, Mary heard her father march past the library and slam the front door. Aunt’s hysterics kept on for a quarter-hour afterward, but soon subsided.

She’s found the laudanum, Mary thought.

There was a tap on the window glass.

“Miss Buchanan?”

It was Samuel Brown. Mary hurried to the window.

“I saw you sitting there. Is—is everything all right?”

She almost laughed. It was such a funny question. “You overheard?”

“Just a little. Only because I was outside, and one of your dining room windows was partly open.”

“The whole street must know, then.” Mary found it didn’t bother her.

“He discovered you?” He looked worried. And sad.

“Would you like to come in?” Mary asked. It felt silly to stand at the window, and inviting him in was so wickedly intriguing it made her breathless. In this reckless mood, she felt ready for anything.

“Better not,” he said.

“I’ll come outside, then.” She had no shawl, but it was warm for a September evening. Chin high, Mary followed Samuel to his terrace and took the chair beside him. He extinguished the half-smoked pipe resting on the table, apologizing.

“I don’t mind.” His tobacco smelled differently than Papa’s.

He wove his fingers together and rested them on the table. “I knew this might happen. Neil warned me of it. If you need to stop drawing, I understand.”

“He doesn’t know,” Mary said, but Samuel didn’t hear her.

“It was selfish of me to consider what you might suffer on discovery. If he hurts you—”

“I’m not hurt.” She would be once her pulse and breathing slowed, but from lacerated feelings, not a physical bruise. She’d been a fool, making up excuses for them. They were supposed to love her but did not. What of it? She knew now and was free of all the duties and constraints that had made her careful before. It didn’t matter what had become of her mother. “It’s all right. He truly doesn’t know. The quarrel wasn’t politics.”

He tilted his head, as if surprised there could be anything else.

“I wanted information about my mother,” Mary explained.

“What did you want to know?” he asked.

Mary lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Anything really. I had no specifics. At least now I have one. She named me Gabriella.”

He smiled. “Flighty name for a lady like you.”

“Don’t you like it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I’m used to Mary.

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