Without Troubling Their Consciences

　　Mary explained the whole conversation. Kitty understood at last and shook her head.

　　"Your mistake was to mention your cousin. You should have asked for money for a new dress for yourself and used it how you wish. That's how it's done. But it's too late now. He knows your secret." She spoke regretfully but lightly, as if this was a mere game of manners not a matter of life and death.

　　Looking around the room, Mary saw them in a new light: these dazzling women and their wealthy men. To get what they wanted, the women had to lie and cheat a little, so as not to upset their menfolk's feeling of superiority. It was expected and accepted. It mad her feel quite ill. She thought being rich and cosseted as Kitty would bring a sense of freedom but it didn't. She began to understand the jealousy Kitty had expressed towards her in Cremorne Gardens. True, up to now Mary had lied on an epic scale - but not to people she loved. Not as a matter of course. Not as these women seemed to do without troubling their consciences.

Following Ophelia, P313-314
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»

Persephone

　　For a while, Mary indulged in being Persephone. She smiled graciously when her hand was kissed and coquettishly when complimented. When the conversation was dull - when it turned repeatedly to her 'charms' and 'the pleasure of regarding a beautiful woman', she smiled politely. When it was the subject of painting or poetry, she joined in and watched as the men - they were always men - looked surprised at her knowledge and curiosity. Some like it, she noticed, but most seemed to prefer it when she kept her full lips shut, so they could admire the curvature and not to distracted by her opinions.

Following Ophelia, P308-309
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»

Not Her Friend or Anything More

　　"It's not your fault. You were made to be enchanting to gentlemen, not to clean a grate."

　　"More than that, I hope," Mary said. Annie made it sound lovely: being 'enchanting to gentlemen', and at Little Holland House it had felt that way, but it didn't seem worth much tonight. What was the point of enchanting gentlemen if you couldn't help someone you loved in trouble, or even take a carriage where you wanted? It still rankled Mary very much that Felix had been so cross about that carriage ride. She was a prisoner unless he deigned to let her out. He thought of himself as her master - not her friend or anything more.

Following Ophelia, P299
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»

No Artist Ever Painter This

　　"Soon everyone will know!" Harriet snorted through her tears. Her face was distorted with fear and misery. No artist ever painted this, Mary thought bitterly. This was not a girl serenely floating in a river, chanting songs, but one very much alive, mad ugly and despair. With a baby, noby would want Harriet. No one would employ her. How would she survive? Mary wanted to hit something, howl at something, break something.

　　Slowly Harriet brought her sobs under control. She was eager to speak in defence of her lover. "He-he ... he's so sorry. He never wanted this to happen. Yesterday he brought me a little posy of the prettiest flowers." Her eyes softened at the memory of it. "He'd marry me if he could. He's sworn he'll love me forever. But he'd be cut off without a penny. We'd have nowhere to live. He couldn't complete his studies. I can't ask that of him."

　　The thought of flowers made Mary's blood boiled harder. He gave her a baby and then matched it with a posy? "But Harriet, he's asking it of you. What will you do?"

　　Harriet's eyes were deep wells. The dim light was gone again, at the thought of loosing Edmond. "I ... don't ... knoo-ooow!"

Following Ophelia, P275-276
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»

A Very Different London

　　But soon she stopped thinking about herself. In the open carriage, she was easily distracted by the view. London was as busy as ever - an endless building site it seemed. The Thames flowed relentlessly dark and grey beneath them as they crossed it on a wide stone bridge. Looking east, towards the sea, steamers and barges steadily plied their trade. West were the Houses of Parliament, a nest of stone and scaffolding, nearly finished after the fire. London was all about changing and making things. Mary found it as compelling as she had the first day she arrived.

　　Once they reached Southwark, the clamour of the tenements spoke of a very different London from the West End. Here, there were ragged children begging on every street and washing hung out to dry between high windows in crumbling buildings. Omnibus drivers fought for road space with carts freshly loaded with goods from the docks. The stink of the river hung rank in the air, mixed with the foul smell of tanneries and drying leather, intensified by the summer heat. Several workmen, caked in brick dust, turned to stare at the ladies in their smart, open carriage. Mary shivered with self-consciousness but Kitty ignored them with ladylike composure.

Following Ophelia, P199-200
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»

You Didn't Have to End Where You Started

　　That night the book, like the paintings, became a key to the magic world. Hunched up in bed with a candle, Mary read about goddesses who could summon storms and kill sailors who displeased them; heroes who would travel the world for ten years, battling gods and monsters to return to the woman they loved; mortals who married gods; humans transformed into a tree, a stag, a spider.

　　For thousands of years, it seemed, humans had been transformed. You didn't have to end where you started. Mary thought of Lizzie Siddal and the girl in Felix's drawing, and wondered who she could become.

Following Ophelia, P160-161
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»

Made for Adventures

　　"... ... You seem like someone who's made for adventures."

　　The look he gave her was so intense that Mary felt her temperature rise. His eyes had an effect on her that she'd never experienced before. Made for adventures. That felt so much more real to her, and true, than 'made for laying tables', or 'made for cleaning grates'. To be here, now, with the balmy summer air rushing by them and the carriage full of Roly and Kitty's laughter - this was living. Mary was soon laughing alongside them. The impossible had just happened and they made it seem easy. Her heart sang, the way it had in Felix's studio.

Following Ophelia, P138
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»

Be That Girl

　　Down in the scullery, rubbing her shoulder to take the sting out, Mary couldn't help feeling she didn't belong here. She wasn't made for service and service wasn't made for her. If God had meant her to be a drudge all her life, surely He would have made her good at it? Her dreams turned to Felix's studio and the drawing he had done for her. The girl in that sketch would never be hit by a servant or sent to mad old lady's house to read to her. Is seemed forever until she could be that girl again.

Following Ophelia, P130
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»

He was Like No Man

　　The flush on his cheeks bought out the dark Byronic beauty of his face. Mary marvelled again at how a man should choose to be a painter when he was so obviously born to be painted himself. Today he wore a soft white linen shirt with a scarlet neckerchief. Nothing about his appearance was careless but everything was carefree. He was like no man she'd ever met in Westbrook.

Following Ophelia, P111-112
Sophia Bennett
ISBN 978-1-84715-810-9

read more»