CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WESTMINSTER, LONDON—1717

MARY SPLASHED HER FACE WITH WATER AND RUBBED THE DUST FROM her shoes. She couldn’t help but grin, though her nerves were ablaze. Granny had invited her to sup with her at last, at the grand table! Supper with Granny, instead of the servants. Like a proper grandson.

She clattered down two flights of stairs and composed herself before walking into the dining room, slicking the hair back from her forehead. Granny loomed already at her place behind a battery of candles, a glass of claret at her elbow, a set place just across from her. Mary cleared her throat and sat down as Jenny filled her cup with small beer. The food was much the same as what she ate with the servants, the glorious difference being that it was all steaming hot instead of middling warm. There were five or six vegetables, all in lumpy heaps of slightly differing colors swimming in butter, the usual pudding, some boiled beef and gravy, and Mary’s favorite, oyster pie.

Without a word, Granny clasped her hands and bowed her head, and Mary scrambled to imitate her.

“Dear Lord, we thank thee for this food …”

Mary’s attention wandered as Granny droned on. She wondered what the gossip around the servants’ table would be, since Granny had suddenly invited her to dinner. Would Beth miss seeing her tonight?

Mary had been flirting shamelessly with the servant girl. She knew she should be careful, but she couldn’t help it. She loved making Beth laugh, and the more outrageous Mary was, the brighter Beth’s laughter. She’d give her a wink across the dinner table when no one was looking, and whistle the refrain of some cheeky song whenever she passed a room where Beth was cleaning. Whenever Mary could get back to the tenement she told Nat about her, almost keeping pace with him when he told her about the girls he met. Sometimes her cheeks warmed when Beth’s fingers grazed her hand—sometimes, lying awake in bed, it was Beth’s soft lips she pictured kissing, instead of Nat’s.

Mary’s attention snapped back to Granny as her voice grew more forceful. “The temptation to sin is great, but we strive with all our power to be righteous. Help us to avoid sinful pursuits, those of the flesh, in pursuit of righteousness.”

Mary’s stomach twisted suddenly. No matter whose lips she was picturing, she thought, God wouldn’t approve.

Abruptly Granny stopped. “Amen,” she finally finished, looking up to stare directly at Mary. Mary echoed her uneasily.

Granny began piling beef on her plate. Mary sat for a moment, unsure of her manners, then reached for the oyster pie.

“Something came to my attention that gave me cause to rise early this afternoon,” Granny said finally. “Beth, do you know her?”

Mary’s heart jumped. “Which Beth do you mean?” she asked, though of course she knew who Granny meant.

Granny looked sharply at her. “The maid, Beth Hartley. She came to get the keys from me for a bit of cleaning today.”

Mary’s throat closed up as she continued ladling cabbage onto her plate. “Aye, I know her. From eating dinner with her. With the servants, I mean.”

“She mentioned she’d been getting some help cleaning the second-floor library as of late,” Granny continued. Mary choked down a bite of pie and kept her eyes on her plate. “She said you’ve been quite friendly with her. What a gentleman she thinks you are!” She took another sip. “But following girls into empty rooms doesn’t sound like the behavior of a gentleman to me.”

Mary set down her fork and put on an innocent face. “Oh, I honestly was only trying to be helpful—”

“You may be my footboy,” Granny interrupted, her sharp eyes unimpressed, “but you are also my grandson. Has it occurred to you that I have no other family, no heirs but you?”

Mary wrinkled her brow and tried to look thoughtful and surprised, as if this idea was new to her. “I suppose I am, Granny. It is just me, ain’t it?”

“Isn’t it, Mark. Please try to speak properly. And I’m sure you’ve imagined it could all be yours.” Granny ran a slice of beef through the gravy on her plate. Mary gave up on eating, her stomach now too knotted to try, and sucked down the rest of her beer.

Granny poked her fork in Mary’s direction. “A girl like Beth could get you in trouble. Do you hear me? My son was ruined by a pretty-faced harlot who knew how to get what she wanted, and I’ve no intention of letting the same thing happen to you.”

Mary clenched her jaw and looked down. “It wasn’t like that,” she mumbled, but she felt a flash of fear. If Granny wasn’t satisfied with her excuses, everything she’d worked for could be lost so easily—and if disguising herself as Mark didn’t ruin her in God’s eyes, being tempted by another girl certainly would.

“Now I find you’re carrying on with a girl that could very well do the same to you.” Granny began to wheeze. “I may be sick, but I’m not blind. Take care and stay away from her.” Mary nodded chastely as Granny took a sip of claret to clear her throat, relieved that she’d be escaping with a warning. “Or I’ll discharge her and send you back to the bilgewater you came from. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mary kept her fists hidden under the table. She would never go back to that tenement room in Wapping. She’d do whatever it took.

Granny eyed her. “It’s partly my fault. From now on you’ll eat with me, and I’m having one of the rooms on the second floor made up for you. A real room, one suitable for my grandson. Take care you don’t give me cause to regret the expense. Do you understand?” Granny drained her glass and set it on the table with an authoritative smack.

Just when Mary was starting to enjoy eating dinner with the servants, joining in on the conversation and cracking jokes. And Beth. Spending time with her had been the best part of being at Granny’s. But going back to Wapping and living with Mum was impossible, and she had her soul to think of. Whatever raged inside her, she knew what she had to do. She looked across the table and nodded somberly. “Aye, Granny. I’m sorry. I won’t disappoint you again.”