by R. G. Winter
“He’s a gambler with debts so high he had to flee the country right after the Season, after he failed to charm a lady into marriage! Imagine if Cecelia had wed him! Oh the shame and the scandal, and while those things would have been terrible, even more terrible would have been the fact that he could not support her. She would have been left penniless! Dependent on her parent’s charity.”
Madelaine wrung her hands. “I understand that Mama, but…but if young women were allowed to decide when they were ready to wed instead of just being shoved into it willy-nilly it would be far better.”
“Or not. Sometimes women wait too long. A woman’s place is never secure until she has a husband.” Lady de Winter’s words were surprisingly gentle.
“Mama…”
“If you but need an example of that look to Megan Lowell. She was so beautiful that her hand was asked for by at least a dozen men. What did she do but turn all her suitors down and then demand a second Season, nearly bankrupting her poor parents in the process. And while that second Season was in full swing—she fell and scarred her face so dreadfully. Now she hides in the country, unwed and unwanted, and where will she go when her parents pass away? She will have to rely on charity.”
Madelaine rubbed a hand across her face. “I understand Mama. A single woman must rely on charity, and often there is none to be had.”
“Precisely.” The concern was real. “There is no comfort in being a woman alone Madelaine, that is why it is so important that a young woman’s parents take the reins and guide her into her future.”
Like a horse. Or an ox. Madelaine squashed that thought. There were far too many horror stories of young women who had failed to make good matches and must now depend on their brothers, and live with their often-cruel sisters-in-law, to have a home and their keep. Madelaine had always known those things, she just had never considered them so strongly.
Her mother and father had obviously considered that though—and considered it very well. They only wanted her to be settled, to be safe and secure. She knew that but it did not make the burden any lighter to bear.
“Yes Mama.”
Lady de Winter patted her cheek. “You must come down for luncheon today. The duke will be in attendance, and he is eager to see you.”
Is he? She could not imagine him being happy to see the woman who had run away the night before their nuptials. She had shamed him in front of the whole of society, and she could not even consider how hard it would be to face him.
Still, if it meant getting out of that room she was going to go down there and smile her fool head off! “I would be happy to Mama.”
“Good. Why don’t you come sit with Victoria and me? We are having some tea in the parlor and doing some very interesting embroidery.”
“Yes Mama.”
“You might try your hand at doing some stitching.”
Lady de Winter’s eyes went to Madelaine’s hands. “I see you have been using that milk and almond paste I gave you. Your hands were so rough dear.”
She looked down at them. The lotion had made them smooth again, and the gloves she had worn to bed had helped to rid them of much of the redness that hard work had placed into her skin. “Yes Mama. I will use more this evening.”
“Good. Now come, let us sit for a while.”
Madelaine followed. The hallways were quiet. The above stairs maids worked quickly and well, always stopping as they approached to give them little curtseys and nods of their heads.
Madelaine knew that the maids likely envied her, but she envied them. At least they could decide for themselves when and if they wed. They might have to work hard but nobody, outside of their employers, got to tell them what to do. They had perhaps just the tiniest bit of freedom but they had far more than she did.
In the front parlor Victoria sat, her golden head bent to her sewing. As always she looked happy to be engaged in such a task. Madelaine sat. Her mother handed her a hoop and needle, and Madelaine engaged herself in picking out brightly-colored thread.
The time passed. Madelaine wanted to talk but Victoria was noticeably silent as was her mother. She knew that they simply dreaded luncheon, and were fearful that her bad behavior would continue so she decided to sit quiet and ply the delicate needle.
Eventually there was a knock at the front door. Madelaine tensed and pricked her finger with the needle, spilling blood in bright red droplets across the snowy linen.
“Oh, I’ve ruined it!” She set the embroidery aside as the servant announced that Reginald had arrived and was seeking audience with Lord de Winter, who was in his study.
Madelaine glanced over at Victoria’s face. She looked strained and solemn. Of course. Her future depended upon her older sister marrying well.
Time continued to tick past. Luncheon was announced and they all stood and walked sedately toward the dining room.
Reginald sat near her father. He gave her a smile and she smiled back, hoping it looked pleasant.
She sat next to him and he said, “You look well.”
“Thank you milord. As do you.”
He wasn’t so bad. He was handsome if bland. She had said, once, that he looked like a vanilla biscuit and her opinion had not changed. Victoria sat near their mother. Reginald’s smile broadened. “You look well too Victoria.”
Her smile was the first one that Madelaine had seen since her arrival home. “As do you sir. That waistcoat is most handsome.”
He preened under the compliment. Madelaine saw the look her mother shot her but she found she had nothing to say.
They were served a clear soup and she ate it. Then came fish. She ate her portion. Next was a light salad. She ate that.
Everything was neatly ordered routine. Nothing was joyful or happy. It simply existed to be done because it was what was supposed to be done. She found herself pondering that, and wondering what Jonathan was doing at just that moment. Having luncheon as well? Thinking about her? Out riding like the wind over some hill?
“Perhaps I could entice you and Victoria to go riding with me in the park today. It is quite lovely, what with all the flowers and the grass and trees.”
And the tonne, all of whom would be craning their necks to see them together again! Oh the unfairness of it!
“That sounds lovely Your Grace, thank you for asking us.” The words were automatic. Correct.
Victoria said, “I would enjoy that very much, thank you for including me in your invitation.”
He nodded. They all went back to eating the trifle they had been served. Lord de Winter cleared his throat. “I say, did I hear you had a new carriage?”
Reginald nodded, “yes and two new bays to pull it but I am afraid they have yet to be broken in. One is quite wild, in fact.”
Madelaine’s head jerked up. “Wild? I imagine it must be most magnificent!”
“Terrifying,” Victoria said, “Quite terrifying is how I imagine that horse must be. Tell us, Your Grace, those are not the horses that shall be pulling the carriage today, are they?”
He smiled and Madelaine saw with some wonder that his handsomeness actually increased when he smiled. That smile gave his face some character in fact. “No, of course not. I’d never put you, either of you, in danger. An unbroken horse attached to a carriage is a danger, and just last week that fool Buckley attempted to have his new one pulled by four!”
“Broke the wheels off,” Lord de Winter put in. “That man’s very lucky he did not harm anyone except himself.”
Madelaine set her spoon aside, “He was hurt then?”
“Oh quite badly,” Victoria reassured her with a shudder. “I cannot imagine the fright those riding in the park had.”
Madelaine sipped her water then said, “I can’t imagine the fright Lord Buckley had.”
She’d thought that rather witty. It was obvious nobody else did. She fell silent.
Lady de Winter spoke up. “You must tell us all about your recent outing in the country Your Grace.”
Victoria sa
id, “Oh yes! You must!”
Must.
Madelaine plied her spoon. There was a rule every young woman was taught. There must always be food left on her plate. Nobody must ever see a young woman of class eat everything she was served. To clean one’s plate was to cast doubt as to whether she would keep her lovely figure. Men were especially wary of a young woman with so great an appetite.
Victoria took only two small, virtuous bites of the delicious trifle. Her mother did as well. Madelaine ate all of hers. She saw the horrified glances her mother and sister shot her way but ignored them.
She was truly hungry. The soup had been bland, the fish overcooked, and the salad far too light. The last few days she had been served small trays, and she knew that that was deliberate. Her mother had likely seen the small amount of weight she had gained, most of it muscle from working so hard, and decided she must reduce her figure at once in order not to disappoint the duke.
And so she would fit into that wedding gown.
Winston’s advice came back to her. She considered calling for a second helping but the idea of her mother fainting dead away in horror at the table was not amusing.
Winston strolled in. “hello, looks like I’ve missed luncheon.”
Lady de Winter smiled at him, her fondness apparent. “Oh nonsense, I shall ring for you…”
He waved a hand at her. “No, it’s quite all right. I had a frightfully large breakfast.” He smiled at Madelaine, “They’ve let you out I see.”
Lord de Winter cleared his throat meaningfully. Madelaine had no idea why. It was not like her being locked away was uncommon knowledge. “It seems so. His Lordship is taking Victoria and me out for a carriage ride today.”
“Wonderful. The entire place is buzzing. Season is in full swing it seems.”
Lady de Winter stood. “Ladies, let us retire so the gentlemen can speak freely.”
Madelaine stood. She gave Reginald a cool smile but he was not looking at her at all. His eyes were fixed at a point behind her.
She turned to see Victoria heading out the door with her mother right ahead.
Oh. He was telling her to go quickly then.
She went.
**
In the parlor they sat again. A maid took away the spoiled cloth and gave her a new one. Madelaine stabbed her needle through it, nearly tearing it.
Victoria spoke. “Tomorrow night is the Cabot’s ball.”
There was such longing in her voice! Lady de Winter smiled. I know how much you long to go dear but this is not your year.”
Madelaine snarled a stitch, grimaced and began to untangle it, “Why must we only have one year Mama?”
Mama laughed. “Oh well, that is because if a young woman is not wed after her first year there is the assumption that she was simply left over from the year before. No man wants to marry a woman who failed in the marriage market, you know.
“As I have said too often, there are those who think themselves so beautiful and gay that they may have two years and pick as they please but…but quite often they find themselves alone at the ball.”
Madelaine managed to create a passable few letters on her linen. “I would rather think they would lower the age for admittance to the balls. Let girls Victoria’s age in so that they might have more experience when it is their year.”
Victoria said, “Oh yes! That would be lovely! Of course we couldn’t dance or drink champagne and wine but we could watch, and observe the young men from a chaperoned distance.”
Lady de Winter chuckled softly, “So eager you are Victoria.” She laid a hand on her younger daughter’s arm. “You shall be the toast of the town, just as I was!”
Victoria nodded and went back to her needlework. She said, “I have been asked to play for Lady Bellum’s recital mama. What should I play?”
“Oh, that is a great honor! You might not yet be old enough for balls and dances but what an opportunity!”
Lady de Winter beamed as she set her embroidery aside and considered Victoria. “Let’s see, you must wear white, of course, and keep your hair down as is fitting your age but you would certainly be allowed at the dinner table as you are occupying such an exalted place.
“Lady Bellum only asks those with great skill to play at her recitals you know.”
Victoria lifted her head. “You’ve never been asked to play anywhere, have you Madelaine?”
Madelaine winced. There was real cattiness in Victoria’s tone. Where had that come from? Victoria was the sweetest-natured person! “No. I do not play well.”
She gave her sewing a rueful glance. “Nor sew well either. I fear I lack in far too many places.”
Lady de Winter patted her cheek. “You are wonderful with the household staff. You can create menus faster than even I can. You have a wonderful way with fashion as well. You are quite accomplished really.”
Accomplished? Because she could decide what the food on the table would be and wear a gown well?
A hard lump rose in Madelaine’s throat. Was that really all that she had to offer, all that her value was wrapped up in? Her ability to wear a dress and know which servant was supposed to clean which room and when?
Those were valuable things for a young woman of her position, and perhaps that was the worst of it all.
She could be a dressmaker’s dummy for all of that! Or a servant!
Lady de Winter said, “We must have a fitting in the morning Madelaine. I think, perhaps, a little less trifle would be in order.”
Madelaine met her eyes. “I like trifle.”
“Perhaps a trifle too much,” Victoria’s fingers flew over her embroidery.
Lady de Winter tapped her hand with two fingers. “That is unkind, but you have a point. You seem to have left your manners behind Madelaine.”
Madelaine nodded. “Yes Mother.”
Victoria spoke again. “I heard that Gillian is to be wed this year.”
Lady de Winter frowned. “You don’t say! But she’s your age! How could she be? She’s not yet had a Season!”
Victoria lifted her head again. Her clear eyes held a shimmer that could only be tears. “Oh Mother does a Season and age really matter? Does it really matter so much if she wants to marry and it is a good match, the best match possible?”
“Of course not,” Lady de Winter bundled her thread neatly and stood. “Come ladies, I think we have had enough of our sewing today. We must get you dressed for your outing.”
Victoria quickly bundled her own thread and stowed her sewing away neatly. Madelaine’s thread was hopelessly snarled and tangled and her linen askew in the frame. She tossed it willy-nilly into the basket.
In her room she was undressed only to be dressed again. The gown she had worn earlier was sprayed down with lavender and water, pressed quickly and hung back in the armoire.
Her hair was freshly arranged and she was handed gloves and a parasol as well as a wide hat. She was sprayed with a little of the lavender water as well and scented pads were placed between her armpit and the gown just in case she began to perspire out on her ride.
She walked downstairs slowly, feeling more like she was headed to the guillotine than out for a ride in the park.
Vitoria was resplendent in a pink and white striped gown of lawn. Her hat had a childish, wide pink ribbon around the brim, and her parasol was decorated with soft feathers and more ribbon.
“You make a pretty picture, “Madelaine said softly.
The antagonism from Victoria earlier bothered her a great deal. She knew it was deserved, she could have cost her sister the dream she had had since childhood—to have a wonderful season and marry well then settle into the life she had been born to. Seemed made and so well-suited for.
Victoria smiled. It was the first real smile she had given her. “As do you. Oh if only I were you! You are so lucky! You are so very lucky Madelaine!”
Her face crumpled. The smile dimmed then faded. Madelaine crossed the distance between them and hugged her, hard. The stiffnes
s of their corsets kept her from being able to truly feel her sister’s body against hers but it was close enough.
“It will be your turn before you know it. Enjoy the time you have now. It goes far too fast.”
Victoria peered into her face. “Are you truly so unhappy with the duke Madelaine?”
“I am beyond unhappy. Oh if only he would fall in love with someone else and break the engagement!”
Victoria looked shocked. Color heated her cheeks. “Papa and Mama would die you know.”
“I know. But if I have to wed him I think I shall die.”
Her words made tears come up in the corners of her eyes. Little rainbows danced across her vision.
Victoria took her hand. “He can’t break the engagement. Even if he wanted to. There are papers already signed. Marriage is complicated and it requires a great deal of negotiations on the parts of a bride’s father and the groom’s as well. There are so many things to consider, after all.”
Madelaine placed her hands on Victoria’s shoulders. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you? I always assumed you were starry-eyed and…dreamy about the whole thing but you aren’t. You’ve learned all the hard truths and you still want to marry, to be…to be a wife.”
“Yes! It’s all I have ever wanted and what is wrong with knowing exactly how it shall come to pass? I mean I know some girls go into it without the slightest idea other than their parents will benefit in some way, or their new husband will. But if I am to marry I wish to know everything!”
Madelaine swallowed hard. “It doesn’t seem…well…like being sold off to you?”
Victoria shook her head. “It seems quite sensible, actually. I know the servants marry at will and often in haste and look how often that turns out badly. I should think a marriage should be plotted out and considered from every angle so as to give those within it the best chance of being happy.”
Madelaine gripped her parasol more tightly. “What if they aren’t? What if they don’t like one another or find each other boring or…or any of one of another hundred things?”