The Second War of Rebellion
Page 28
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To hear the soft lilt of Virginia was soothing, as if Maddie had left England and gone back to her childhood. Since discovering that the Monroe family was in London, Maddie had written reams of letters to her boarding school classmate, and it was Eliza who invited her to call. Mr. Monroe, the Minister Plenipotentiary, was in a position to provide answers and counsel not to be had from an Englishman. While Mrs. Monroe served coffee, Eliza distracted Maddie from her worries with insignificant chatter about their shared impressions of the city and the unbending system of social caste that was unlike anything they knew from home.
In time, the discussion turned to the matter most important to Maddie. Mrs. Monroe confirmed her suspicions, that trade had been seriously damaged by England’s iron-fisted control of the sea lanes. The kidnapping of sailors was a problem, but of greater concern to Mr. Monroe was the damage inflicted by the British embargo on trade with all nations allied with Bonaparte. Neutrality was ignored, ships were seized, and the merchant fleet found it safer to transport goods along the coast, rather than attempt to cross the ocean. Goods did not flow, but then neither did the mail.
“My brother Stephen has often said that our country must have a stronger navy, not to attack, but to protect our interests,” Maddie said.
“You have no idea, then, where your family stands?” Mrs. Monroe asked.
“Not a word for nearly three months,” Maddie said.
“Perhaps something will arrive yet,” Eliza said. “Belated birthday greetings, at the least.”
“Why not compose a letter now,” Mrs. Monroe said. “Mr. Monroe could send it in the diplomatic pouch, and your brother could then forward his reply through the same channels.”
“How clever, Mama,” Eliza said. “John Bull may take our goods and toss our private letters over the side, but he does have respect for a diplomatic seal.”
“I would be so grateful,” Maddie said. “Especially after Ethan informed me that my grandfather was ailing. Any further news, whether good or bad, will set my mind at rest.”
Not to abuse the privilege, Maddie kept her letter short, and it would be the only time she would prevail upon Mr. Monroe’s generosity. After she filled the single page, she realized that she had composed a list of questions, so many that a single sheet would never suffice to provide even half the answers. She affixed a wafer to seal it, mentally counting the weeks until it arrived in Charleston, and the weeks until Ethan’s reply came. Events would go on, with or without her, but if she knew of them, she would be whole again, and not feel as if a large part of her had been lost.