Mary Wardwell Novels & Stories

Mary still couldn’t believe her luck. She, Mary Wilberforce was waiting for a Maybach to pick her up and take her to the residence of Adam Scott. The Adam Scott! Her heart kept pounding till she felt her breasts were going to pop out from her very low cut crimson sun dress.

A tall, chubby girl—about six feet tall, red-haired, with cheeks like rising dough—barrels through the squabble, sending two maids crashing to the floor. “I will do it,” she says, not sparing a glance at the maids wincing on the ground at her dramatic entrance. Mira brightens. Martha chuckles. “This is MaryJane,” she says proudly. “She has worked in this mansion since she was a child. Hasn’t it…” She pauses thoughtfully. “Been twenty-five years?” “Yes, ma’am,” the bully replies stiffly. Martha gasps. “Wow, how time flies. I remember when she was a little girl, running around this kitchen, stealing biscuits.”

The brown liquid spread across my chest and dripped onto the floor. I looked up at her. My eyes were ice cold. “You stupid, clumsy girl.” The maid’s face turned pale. “It was an accident. Please forgive me.” “Accident?” I snapped, standing up. “You walk into my study shaking like a frightened animal and destroy my clothes and documents?” “I didn’t mean to—” “What is your name?” “M-Maria.” I repeated it with disgust. “Maria. How long have you worked here?” “Six months, Mrs. Cadwell.”

After that, they agreed to meet up later. "Debbie, you can text me the address and time. I will see you later, till then." She said and hung up. •• "Mary did you say, uncle Williams, is back?" Madeline who just got back from her mentor's place asked. Mary was one of the maids in the Luther household. she was particularly close to Madeline who she constantly flatters. No one disliked compliments. naturally, Madeline was not an exception. She likes compliments no doubt but she indulged in false praises making her proud and arrogant.

he remarked, his voice carrying an amused edge as he noted the decoration and military presence. Behind him, a beautiful, mature woman stepped down, her eyes calm and discerning as she assessed the scene. This was Alice Wentworth, Lord Edward’s wife, a figure known for her grace and keen insight. She placed a hand on her husband’s arm, her soft smile adding warmth to her composed expression. “It is indeed commendable,” she replied. “But given the academy’s unlimited resources, I imagine anything is possible.”

I would not be an exception to my professor. May was greeted with a bow. If you know your husband, May says you can go hug him. She walked up to me and immediately bowed. I took her hand in mine and sat her down. What's your given name? "My name is Pretty Martine Leeward", and I'm the first lady. Thank you The audience erupted in applause since practically everyone in the room knew who she was. Prof. I took a stroll over to Prof. Martin Leeward's office. Sir, we haven't discussed it yet, Prof.

Edmund three weeks old with his grandfather's name and his mother's eyes and apparently my eyebrows. Daniel two blocks from the water building things under his own name. Griffin answering questions a three week old cannot ask yet. Marcus and Sebastian on Fridays. Margaret with her window boxes and Archie and the twenty year game that landed exactly where she intended. All of it. Every piece of it. Exactly right. As it had always been going to be. From the moment a woman raised a paddle at a charity auction for a Maine vacation rental with a kitchen facing the ocean and looked across the room and found someone looking back.

Hell, he didn't even have the decency to stop or at least look guilty or ashamed that I had just caught him screwing a woman in our matrimonial bed. Instead, his face pinched with annoyance. "Jesus Christ, Evelyn." He snapped, "Either close the door and leave, or strip down and join us. But stop hovering there like a pathetic ghost." The girl—who I now recognized as Mara, his twenty-one-year-old secretary, when she lifted her head—smiled at me. "Sorry, Mrs. Hart. I told him we should've locked the door." My hands were shaking. I mumbled something that might've been an apology and yanked the door shut, stumbling backward. My shoulder slammed into the wall hard enough to send our wedding photo

I gave her first aid and treated her. Tonight, I'll cook dinner," I stated. But you are not strong. I'm okay , Daisy, I'll prepare something easy for us. I then left before she could say anything. **************************** She was Maris Graves, one of the most highly respected women in New York. She had never imagined feeling threatened by someone as disgusting as Kate. She didn’t like Sienna, and she wasn’t fond of Kate either but right now, Kate earned her hatred far more than Sienna ever could.

Mary followed without any more words. (Please leave me a review!)