* * *
With the heart of the season on the horizon, Maddie had to meet with her uncle to learn what the family had in mind. She came prepared to argue, to bargain for certain balls that Cecily and Caroline Thompson were eager for her to attend. To set the right mood, Maddie opened the negotiations with talk of horses, which she expected would lead to a mention of the races at Ascot that signaled the season was open. “Until May at least, I must return to the country to see about the construction of the new stable,” she said. “There is yet much to be determined, and I cannot leave all to the estate agent. He has written me, in fact, with questions that require an answer before the end of June, or construction will be delayed.”
“Would you miss out on the entire season for the sake of this hobby?” Lawrence asked.
“That will not do,” Lady Jane said. “You will accept a few, carefully selected invitations prior to Ascot. By doing so, you might increase your allure. Lucy found it to be so, to be seen less often while my friends spoke glowingly of her.”
“If I wanted my own Mr. Ellsworth, I suppose,” Maddie grumbled. She found Lucy’s intended to be somewhat dull, poorly educated, and too pretty for his own good. That he was attracted to Lucy because her father was expected to become Lord Bransmore one day was a fact that only Maddie noted, and only Joseph Ashford acknowledged.
“Now then, as you have matters of importance to deal with in the country, we must schedule your time,” Lady Jane said. “It would be unseemly, would it not, if you were otherwise engaged on the day of Lucy’s wedding? As before, you will of course present all invitations to me so that I can best advise you.”
“And avoid the need to make excuses for one that should have been declined from the first,” Lawrence said. “It would be bad form, and give the impression that you found something amiss with your host, which would create some very unpleasant gossip.”
“I expect to decline all, with the exception of small gatherings of friends,” Maddie said. To be forced to live her life under her aunt’s thumb, to have no control over a single minute of any day, was unthinkable. She was perfectly capable of managing her calendar on her own, and had no desire to go where and when she was told.
“Friends of friends must be taken into consideration,” Lawrence said.
“Extended family of friends,” Lady Jane said. “All must be suitable.”
“I am returning to the country,” Maddie said. Her voice must have taken on a sharp edge, judging by the way her aunt and uncle shifted in their chairs. “Should I receive an invitation to an event I wish to attend, I will consult with you. But I do not care to flit from ball to ball.”
“To retreat too completely could be detrimental to your reputation,” Lady Jane said. “People will think there is something wrong with you. They will question your health, I assure you.”
“But I do not mean to disappear. You see, I have engaged an architect to design the new stable. He is going to provide instruction in his craft, so that I may gain a rudimentary knowledge.”
“You must not continuously improve your mind, my dear, for you run a great risk of ruining it,” Lawrence said.
“Too much education is not healthy for a woman,” Lady Jane said.
A sense of foreboding followed Maddie home, and then trailed her to the country. Two months remained before she had to submit to the authority of those who did not share her mother’s ideals in regard to the female mind. How was Maddie to cultivate her intelligence when she was surrounded by those who would pull out all knowledge as if it were a noxious weed? She would have to fight for her right to be literate, to be interesting to men who preferred a woman with a spark of intelligence. To be meek and obedient to such tyranny was to deny her heritage and all that her mother had sacrificed.
A study of architecture, coupled with the arrival of the foals, kept Maddie so busy that she was surprised to wake up one morning and find that the cherry trees were in bloom. She began her day, as usual, at her desk in the morning room, declining whatever invitations arrived in the mail rather than go like a beggar to her uncle to seek his permission. The request from Lady Gravier could not be turned down, and Maddie wrote out her reply, confident that permission would be granted for political reasons. A letter from Eliza Monroe wiped all thoughts of dancing out of Maddie’s head. Her friend invited her to call at her earliest convenience, but did not specify the reason. There had to be news, such as could not be conveyed by the written word. Without delay, she would head to London and the home of the American minister.
Nipper held the carriage door open while Sophie climbed in, and then busied himself with the baggage. “I can fly to places a caged bird can’t reach,” he said. “You could have the information you seek before the week is out.”
“You are being particularly impertinent today,” Maddie said. She resented his familiarity and his habit of remarking on captivity in some form or other. Fool. What woman was free, except for an independent widow of means?
“With her ladyship running your life, I might be impertinently unemployed soon.”
“Don’t be silly.” She adjusted her skirts so that she could arrive with a minimum of wrinkles. Sophie fussed with the pile of hat boxes on the opposite seat in a way that annoyed Maddie. “Do sit still, Sophie, and leave that alone.”
“Here’s a promise.” Nipper leaned into the open door. “After she stops that Miss Monroe from seeing you, I’ll go see Miss Monroe myself.”
“Drive on,” Maddie said. “Concern yourself with your job and stop seeing what does not exist.”
“Like swamp mist, Miss Maddie?” he asked. “You remember that from back home, now, don’t you. You see it, and then you don’t.”
The Second War of Rebellion Page 29