Chapter Six
Dickon
knew he shouldn’t have stood so closely to Mary, but she seemed so inviting and
when she leaned back on him he had to fight the urge to turn her around in his
arms and kiss her feverishly. No, he couldn’t do such a thing. She was his
friend; she was in an upper class; they had been in public; Colin had been
there. It would be been terribly wrong and an insult to the Craven family who
had treated Dickon and Martha with such generosity and kindness through the
years.
He thought about that afternoon just three days before, unable to remove it
from his mind. Mary had certainly acted comfortable near him and he dared to
dream that perhaps she wouldn’t have protested if he had been forward. Perhaps
it was wishful thinking on his part; after all, what had he to offer the girl? A cottage. In the near future, even a
horse. After Misselthwaite and a fine boarding school, Dickon was
certain Mary would find his offerings paltry and insignificant. Still he took
hope in the way she treated Colin. Although not his way to take any sort of
pleasure in another person’s suffering, he could not help but feel a sliver of
satisfaction when Mary turned Colin away. She had asked to come
visit in the garden just the evening before and Dickon assured her that it was
her own garden and she was to come and go as she pleased. He wondered now if
he’d misinterpreted what she’d said, or whether he read too much into it in the
first place. There was no doubt wantwanted to be near
him; just the previous morning she had come out for a walk, passing the tree
where Dickon took his lunch. He watched her go by, neither saying a word. It
was almost as if she were teasing him, beckoning him to follow or chase. He
stayed rooted to the base of the tree and allowed her play the game.
This fine morn Dickon helped Ben with the hideous topiary which had now lost an
ear in a shearing error. Dickon consoled the older man, who was visibly
agitated and using blue language to describe his new tasks.
“Mr. Markham this, Mr. Markham that!” spat Ben, waving his pruning shears
around haphazardly. His oversized gardener’s hat tilted to one side of his
head, making him look a bit like a street bum on a drunken rampage. “I’ve ‘ad
about enough of Medlock’s jabbering about ‘im.”
“I’ve never seen her so taken,” surmised Dickon, looking back toward the manor.
“Taken ain’t the right word, lad,” said Ben disgustedly.
“We’d best not say the ‘right word’ aloud, then,” replied Dickon with a smirk.
Ben could go on sometimes but Dickon took his attitude in stride.
“Oi, ‘ere he comes again,” said Ben, peering toward
the road leading up to the courtyard. “Tha’d best run
off before that
Dickon lingered for a second until Ben waved him away. He didn’t like leaving
the older man to deal with the new system of pruning Mr. Markham had been
teaching but it was always best not to further agitate old Ben Weatherstaff. He
liked having things his own way.
The sun shone down in between graying clouds that
moved in stealthily from the west. The landscape intermittently darkened then
lightened and so on until Dickon reached his cottage. The area had been
described as desolate by Mrs. Medlock at one point,
but Dickon called it comfortable and had always been the sort of person who
enjoyed quiet and solitude. He could make himself comfortable in any setting if
needed, but Dickon always preferred a soothing, languid pace if at all
possible. The tiny abode and its surrounding area were in sharp contrast to
what Dickon endured during the war. The garden had helped heal him of many a
foul memory and spiritual scar as it had for his friends before him. Colin had
been protected during the conflict and never saw action. Dickon surmised that
Colin lived more on the surface than Mary did, conflict or not. The only things
he could internalize were things entwined with his own fortune and feelings. So
the garden had served its purpose in Colin’s life and was now open to future
visitors in need of its magic. Dickon hoped he would never forget or turn his
back on it as Colin had.
The interior of the cottage was furnished and decorated modestly, its color provided by wildflowers carefully placed in the few
sunlight areas near the windows. The structure consisted of all of two rooms: the
living area with hearth and kitchen adjacent, and the bedroom. Behind the
cottage stood a small shed which had been built to house Dickon’s tools and
other supplies. A privy stood off in the distance. It was a far cry from the
crowded home he once shared with his mother and siblings. The solitude could be
stifling and it was at these times Dickon sought out the company of his many
animal friends or trekked to the gardens and helped Ben Weatherstaff. He had no
friends his own age save for Mary and Colin, and for the past few months Colin
had grown away from him. Mary had been taken away. He mourned her loss for many
weeks after and now it felt as if he had never ceased pining for her though he
knew there were times when he was so occupied he could think of nothing but the
task before him.
His task at the moment was to chop some firewood and arrange the shed before
heading back to Misselthwaite. He accomplished these things before
“Miss Mary’s away,” said Martha curtly.
Dickon’s interest piqued. “Away?”
“Aye. Off to
“Why ‘ave they gone?”
“Colin was in a terrible dither about getting’ away from the ‘ouse and takin’ Miss Mary to see
the sights of the city. Tha’s what he said and Medlock didn’t give a hint of protest! Taken with that
fellow from
“When will they return?”
“I don’t know. Could be hours. I wanted to tell
you because—Mary had asked for you earlier when you were away at your cottage.”
Dickon nearly choked on a sliver of bread.
With a knowing look, Martha continued. “I don’t mean to be a gossip but seeing
as ‘ow you’re me brother and all I think it only
right to say that the girl fancies thee as much as thee fancies her. Forgive me
for saying it aloud, but there it is.”
A blush rose in Dickon’s cheeks and he lost the ability to speak as no words
came to him for a few seconds. Gathering his wits, he replied, “I wish I could
deny my feelings but I haven’t been as –“ He searched
for the word.
“I know,” Martha interjected. “It’s been plain as day written all over thy
face.” She leaned in close and whispered, “’an it is
the cause for Colin’s foul mood these past few days since Mary’s return.”
“Is that why he’s taken her to
“Aye…I think he’s green with envy, as green as the garden you’ve tended so
well.”
“I should be more careful, then,” Dickon said almost to himself. “Tis not my place to interfere with Miss
Mary and her suitors.”
“Not thy place?” Martha all but shrieked. “Master Colin may one day ‘ave this ‘ouse but I daresay he
will never ‘ave her heart!”
“Tha shouldn’t say such things, Martha. We are but
the help here, we are not in their league and we are not family. Tis a delicate matter and we mustn’t speak of it again.
Promise me you will not mention this to her. She mustn’t know how I feel. I
would be made a fool.”
Martha shook her head. “Does thee think she doesn’t
know? She would have to be quite blind not to see the way your eyes light up
whenever you lay them on her countenance! On the contrary, you make her a fool
if you think she hasn’t already fallen in love with thee!”
“Martha!” Dickon admonished his sister. “Speaking of this is improper. I must
leave you to your own devices if you insist on the subject.” Though he wanted
nothing more than to hear of Mary’s affections for him, Dickon cautioned
himself about propriety and the simple fact that because his sister said it was
true did not make it so. Mary had not spoken, and Dickon himself resolved he
would never take the liberty, either. Torment though it was, he had to endure.
“Please yourself,” Martha said, her voice registering
hurt.
“Come, Martha, I don’t mean it like that,” Dickon assured her gently. “Tha knows I can not speakam iam in no position. I would not
have us banished from this home and insult its Lord.”
Martha nodded. “I should have held my tongue. I’ve ruined it all,” she said,
her head bowed in penitence.
“Tha mustn’t think on it. There has been no harm
done. We mun go about as always. Not a word upon Miss
Mary’s return. Not a word to any soul.”
Martha agreed and returned to the house, head hanging low and shoulders
slumped. Dickon wished she’d never revealed such things to him, for now he
could think of nothing else. Trapped in an in-between place of longing, lust,
love; unable to reveal his feelings, unable to prevent Mary from being courted
by others. He could only sit by and watch.
* * *
“Mary, child, watch your skirts!” Mrs. Medlock
cautioned. “There is mud from the recent rains!”
Mary Lennox gathered her skirts as she stepped from the carriage, taking
Colin’s waiting hand to help her down to the street. He steered her away from
the small random puddles of water and guided her to the shop. Mary allowed it
but hoped he would not read more into her simple display of manners – she
worried that her cousin had taken a strong liking to her and had lapsed into a
sort of courtship in which she had not willingly taken part. Upon entering the
shop, Mary extricated herself from her cousin’s arm and moved forward amidst
the displays. To her chagrin, Colin kept pace beside her with precision.
“Quite a shop, isn’t it, Mary?”
“It is lovely,” she replied politely, not admitting that she had seen shops of
exceeding grandiosity in the city of
“I wish Father would have come with us, but he’s just home so he is, I suppose,
getting reacquainted with the place.”
“He had been gone for quite a while. I expect no less. He wants to relax.” She
paused, treading carefully with her next statement. “We might have asked Dickon
to join us; I am guessing he does not often come to the city.”
Colin’s attitude darkened. “What would he do here? He certainly can not make
purchases. He is a mere country boy, Mary. Why waste thought on him when we
have the city at our feet?”
“Why do you speak about him that way? He is our closest friend!”
“Things have changed, Mary.”
“Only because you have made them so, Colin. If you
wish to please me, you must never forget our dear friend Dickon and his family
who gave us so much. Do you not recall his hand in your cure?”
“I was never ill to begin with!” Colin’s voice rose and other patrons turned to
look at the couple.
Mary pulled away from him and walked brusquely past Mrs. Medlock
and Mr. Markham, both of whom were oblivious to the conversation that had just
taken place between the cousins only a few feet away. The older couple was more
than taken with each other and a few pieces of fine
“Do go away, Colin. I do not wish to speak to you.”
“Come now, Mary. It’s not as bad as that. You know what I meant – about Dickon.
I meant no offense.”
“But you did offend!”
Instead of an expected apology, Colin offered a curled lip and furrowed brow.
“Have at it, then,“ he spat. “Live like a pauper in a
tiny cottage with nothing to your name but a spade and pack of seeds!”
“I’d rather that than you and your sour disposition. I’d rather be penniless
and marry for love than to be consigned to a life full of every kind of wealth
and have to wake up to your face each morning and your heartless and empty
words!” She hadn’t meant to be so candid, so cruel. Forgetting her schooling,
she had brought to mind things that a woman should never suggest to a man.
Waking up to see him every day? Surely he would be reminded of the possible
activities that precede waking and sleep. She’d also almost told him outright
that she loved Dickon.
At that moment, the door opened and out stepped Mrs. Medlock
an. Ma.
“Come now, girl, we’ve another shop to see! I am to find a suitable gown for
you…” Medlock rambled.
Mary allowed herself to be shuttled from shop to shop for the next two hours,
enduring Medlock’s chastisement for her preoccupation
of mind. She simply could not concentrate on anything but what had transpired
between her and Colin. Would he tell Dickon upon their return? Though Mary
suspected Dickon fancied her, he had never made his intentions plain, and so
she was to presume there was no greater affection between them than that of
good friends.
The drive back to Misselthwaite proved almost unbearable as Colin fumed and Medlock and Markham cast their manners to the wind and
commented incessantly on every tree and rock they passed, critiquing each shop
and its wares, each tiny town and passerby. Upon her
return Mary ran to the sanctuary of her bedroom. She heard Colin stomp past her
door, clearly disturbed. When she was called upon to come to dine, Mary
refused. Martha brought her a tray later in the evening, and the two young ladies
sat down together as they had so long ago.
“Martha,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, as if the walls themselves
could hear her and transport her message to the ears of Colin or worse, Dickon.
“I have been harboring a secret all this time, and I wish
to share it. You must promise me that you will never utter a word of it to
anyone. Do you promise?”
Martha stared with wide eyes at her mistress. “I promise thee, Miss Mary,” she
said. “Not a soul.”
Mary took a deep breath. “It concernsr
far family, Martha. I do hope you will not think I am taking liberties.
You must know there is no understanding….I fear I am in love with Dickon.”
“Oh Miss Mary!” Martha said,
her mouth pulled into a glorious smile. She clutched her hands together and
bounced in her seat.
“Calm yourself, Martha! Please! No one must know!”
“But Dickon—“
“You mustn’t tell him – you promised!”
“No, no, Miss Mary I would never betray thy confidence. I am so happy, I can
not hide it!”
“Nothing will come of it, dearest Martha. I simply needed to confide it, I did
not mean for you to take an active part in these affairs. I don’t—.“ Here she paused. “I do not expect anything from Dickon or
you or your family, do know that. There. I’ve said it.”
Mary trusted Martha not to betray her secret, but something about the maid’s
gleeful response prompted questions she did not dare ask. Could Dickon have
feelings for her in return? Would Martha know this? Did Martha think them a
suitable match?
“I know there is no hope,” Mary said before Martha could speak. “We are not
suited to one another in terms of possessions and status. Medlock
would not allow it, even if it were a mutual affection, which I do not presume
to know. Why do you bite your lip so? You are about to bleed yourself!”
Martha could scarcely contain herself. “Oh Miss Mary, I’m not to say anything.”
“Should I take your unspoken news to be in harmony with the
smile that creeps across your face?”
“Aye!” Martha grasped Mary’s hands across the table. “He’s in the
garden, Miss.”
Mary stood and went to her window. Opening it, she looked out over the gardens
as the first few drops of evening rain fell in to settle on her brow. A summer
breeze stirred faintly as the sun began its descent behind the horizon.
Martha joined her at the casement. “He’ll be heading home soon, Miss Mary.”
Mary looked at her friend, then out over the land again. “He will have a long
walk in the rain,” she thought aloud. “I could lend him my horse for the
journey.” After a space, Mary asked Martha to fetch her overcoat and wait by
the kitchen door out back. She did not want anyone within to see her leave the
house, especially Colin, who would think only of scandal.
Sneaking through the house had not been necessary for many years but Mary found
that memory served her well and she was able to reach the outside without
incident. She left Martha in the kitchen and pulling her coat around her, set
off to the secret garden as the weighty raindrops began their descent to the
ground in earnest.
-----------------------------------------<
Author's Note:
This chapter is 3030 words and I wrote over 2000 of those in the past couple of
hours without rising. This is not proofread, so please bear with me on any
problems and report them, please!:)
chichi -- I've added rain for you:) More in the next chapter!I admit, I've thought of
them in the rain as well. There's just something about it...
Madame -- I will think about something between Mary and Colin. Colin must be a
bit of a foil for this to be interesting. I'm sure I have some wickedness up my
sleeve for him ;P
HealerAriel -- This will get more "sexy" in
the next chapter:)
Beth -- Thanks! I agree -- you see Dickon as I do. I had to give him balls here
and there, though. He is going to have to fight for Mary.
Jezz Jamer -- Chapter six
at your service:) Thank you for your review!
Anna -- Thank you muchly -- here's another longish
chapter. I do feel guilty and think it's too short! LOL!
Ginger -- I hope you enjoy Colin the Bitch, lol! I
will have him interact a lot more in subsequent chapters. He needs to get
naughty.
Jennifer -- Thanks for your review -- here's the update. I hope you enjoy it:)
Inzilbeth Andunie -- I
think you can see where this is leading, right? A first kiss in the garden .... :)
Sesshoumaru -- Alone time coming right up:) I shall call it the "calm before the storm."
ali -- Thanks! I'm working
on longer chapters. The problem with thatis they
usually take way longer to post because I can't always find time to write.
Today I was off from work so I could devote some time to it.
Katie M. Holmes -- Thanks! (Are you the REAL Katie Holmes? j/k:)
jezabel -- Good point. I certainly will. Next chapter
will be jam packed with new thoughts, sensations, feelings, intentions,
revelations...
Katherine -- Thank you:) I am trying to keep it slow
but at the same time I don't know if this should be a book ;P
The next chapter will have some "action" but knowing me and my
pacing, it won't be a full out rutting among the roses or anything. (Though we've probably already imagined that! LOL!)
OrinLeland -- Ah the pressure! I hope this chapter
lives up:)
Ashley -- Thank you kindly. For both you and OrinLeland
commented on the war insertion and I did it again here a little bit and it's my
way of including the experience but not makingit
focal. That'd be another story, I think:) Perhaps if it were a book...
BrownEyedGirl -- No problem! Review away:) More Colin coming up later on...
Aggie -- thanks -- I will email you soon for some ideas. I will be needing them for the next chapter.
Thanks again to everyone who has been reading and those who have reviewed. I am
always eager to hear what you think and to make sure this is going along as you
imagine it as much as I imagine it. I am surprised at how so many of us (if not
all of us) have such similar ideas aboutwhat we expectand would like to see happen. I hope I can keep it
challenging and entertaining. I know many of you are waiting with bated breath
for the sex and I will try to relieve you a little bit with the next chapter but
it will be more romantic than raw. All feedback appreciated for how much sex
should be in the story, how graphic it should be, etc. I am thinking it won't
be graphic at all by way of using crude terms. I can't "hear" Dickon
saying certain things we'd hear in today's world. I need help!:)
Thanks again and enjoy! I will try to write the next chapter soon as I know it
does take me a while but thank you for staying true:)