* * *
More so now than before, Maddie was concerned with the state of her finances. She called on Mrs. Pinkney, whose brother was the Commodore of the United States Navy, to obtain the newest information in regard to the state of South Carolina’s economy in light of the trade embargo. The policy was proving to be a disaster, not only to the rice farmers but to the tobacco growers of Virginia and the factors in New England. As always, there were men who saw opportunities in blockade running, but the risks were as high as the rewards and a few privateers were not enough to keep goods flowing. Maddie’s funds in the Bank of England were tapped, and tapped again, while she sought economies. There was no telling how long she would be at war, and to surrender because she was out of funds was unimaginable.
Balls, suppers, dances and evenings at the theater became business meetings where Maddie attempted to sell horses without appearing to be conducting sales. She enjoyed the thrill of it, along with the sensation of being truly independent. Her bills were paid from her holdings, and never once did she touch a penny of Edmund’s paltry salary. She preferred not to think of him at all, as if their relationship had never changed and they were nothing more than friends. Even the tone of her letters to him remained the same, never slipping into intimacy, always at a distance.
“Are you tabulating your winnings?” Cecily asked when she came upon Maddie in the morning room of Ridgeley’s country estate. With the London season ended, Maddie had embarked on a round of visits that would keep her moving through the English countryside for months. It would keep her gambling at cards as well, as she fit into a way of life that embraced a mania for wagering.
“Such a count would take less than a minute,” she said. There was no need to keep count. She kept an accounting book in her head, the sum of her cash reserves always known. “I was writing to the Admiral, to inform him of the grand time I am having. Did I ever tell you that I tried to run away when he came to fetch me? Truly it was the best day of my life, when he brought me here. How else would I ever have been introduced to such dear friends?”
“And such jealous gentlemen,” Cecily said.
“Not that I meant to encourage Shackleford, but he did send a solicitor to verify that I never signed the parish registry,” Maddie said.
“He expected more in the way of gratitude than your expression of thanks,” Cecily said.
“All that I give away freely are words,” she said. “But the rumors are of some use. The Admiral is absolutely apoplectic over some of the things he has been told. Not one of them true, or even about me, but as long as the Prince of Wales continues his countless dalliances, my ammunition will never run low.”
“Tread carefully, my dear, and do not let anything lend credence to idle chatter. We are surrounded by bored women who crave excitement at the expense of others.”
“Indeed, just my being seen with your brother on Rotten Row was enough to fire up the tongues, but no one can claim we were alone together.”
“Not alone when your aunt is sitting in the same carriage, with your cousin at her side. Clever, I grant you that, but do not lose your head.”
Maddie sanded the page to dry the ink and then folded the sheet, more empty space than prose. She was about to affix a wafer when Sunderland marched in, brow furrowed in deep thought.
“Here it is,” he said.
“Here is what, dear?” Cecily asked. She poured him a cup of tea, tipped in a splash of milk, and watched her brother down the hot brew in a single gulp.
“We run off to Gretna Green, get married, and I return to my regiment. There is no other solution. Lady Madeleine must go to Charleston before I am gone. At the end of the war, I will emigrate.” He almost dropped the saucer onto the floor when he tried to put it down on the table.
“The first place the Admiral will look for me is Charleston,” Maddie said. “And might I add that you would stand out in the Low Country until you learned enough about rice to engage in a general conversation.”
“By the time this campaign on the Continent is ended, I shall have acquired a rudimentary knowledge, and more besides,” he said. “You must disappear, your presence in Charleston denied by all who know you.”
“You would abandon friends and family forever?” Cecily asked. “Because if you proceed with this scheme you could never return. Good heavens, the scandal.”
“And then a divorce decree on the heels of a charge of bigamy,” Maddie said. “To return to England is to court a prison sentence, to say nothing of the lawsuits that would fall on you.”
Sunderland dropped into a chair, defeated. “Then you should return to Charleston and await events. While an annulment is procured, you would be safe from any attempt to force you to meet your marital obligations. I cannot bear to think of it.”
Spying a lap, Captain Tar jumped onto Sunderland and proceeded to lick the gentleman’s face. “A poor substitute for the kisses you desire, brother,” Cecily said.
“Everything is so unsettled,” Maddie said. “Mr. Powell implies that the navy will take some aggressive action against the Danes. You yourself are soon to be deployed to Spain. I should be less lonely if I remain here, I believe.”
“In my opinion, you would be safest among your friends,” Cecily said. “Through November, at least. Certainly Lord Gravier can keep any sailor well away from shore if he so orders.”
“If he can buy us a year’s time,” Sunderland muttered.
While he pondered, Maddie returned to the task of sealing her epistle. Her stepfather had expressed great hope that the gossip he had heard regarding his daughter and Sunderland would soon be dispelled with the dragoon’s departure for the Continent. That meant Maddie had to add to the pressure soon, until the pot was well and truly boiling over. Only then would she bring her stepfather to the negotiating table, where he would have to undo the damage he had caused. Then, and only then, would she demand that he honor the contracts he had signed in the drawing room at Riverside Plantation. She handed the letter to Cecily for posting, another broadside from her pen. She wanted the Admiral to know where she was spending the next fortnight.
By accepting an invitation from Lady Norville, Maddie placed herself within the circle that included Lord Norville, a civilian member of the Admiralty Board and an acquaintance of Lawrence Ashford. By adding yet another ally, her voice grew louder, loud enough for Lawrence to hear. Within a week of her stay, where she flirted with the future Lord Norville, Maddie received a note from Lady Jane. The thick fog of male indifference had been penetrated. Lawrence understood the damage that his brother had inflicted on Maddie’s honor when the wedding was conducted in secrecy. Lawrence would write, lay out the facts, and urge his brother to return to London where he would have to make repairs before the Ashford family was sunk.
Her complicated plot was bearing fruit, but she was becoming tangled in her own web. Douglas Shackleford, son of Lord Norville, was as dull as dry toast but he was a perfect specimen of male beauty. Desire was her companion when she danced with Shackleford, but to yield was to become the sort of woman she did not wish to be. His handsome face entered her dreams in images not suited to a respectable lady, as if some part of her well-developed mind retained a portion that was beyond the reach of reason. The powdered cotton root bark called to her, the temptation to fall tormenting her until she could not sleep. In the back of her mind, she heard Afi’s stern advice, the only thing that kept her from opening her door when Douglas knocked in the middle of the night.
The arrival of a large party of weekend guests put some much needed distance between them. Maddie was concerned that her victory might come at the cost of her honor until Lord Norville invited her to play chess. “Lady Madeleine, you must indulge me,” Lord Norville said. “Gravier tells me you are a skilled tactician.”
“He is too kind,” she said.
“You shall be white,” Norville said.
“The advantageous position. On the attack.”
She slid a pawn forward on the bo
ard, opening up routes for the Queen’s bishop. Lord Norville responded with his own pawn. Next she sent her knight, and Norville did the same; in response Maddie made an aggressive move with her bishop. Norville raised an eyebrow. Douglas stood behind her, hovering, his hot breath tickling the back of her neck.
“You know where you want to go,” Lord Norville said. “Each move has been contemplated prior to execution.”
“This is possible because the rules of the game are adhered to during play. What would become of my opening gambit if you were to suddenly decide that my bishop could not move forward, or that I must yield the center of the board to your whim?”
Shackleford turned from the window and cast his longing gaze on her. His pretty eyes held hers for a moment, a brief interlude in which Maddie saw her future if she did not force an annulment. While she was young and pretty, she could amuse herself with men like Shackleford or his deliciously handsome friends. Loneliness would be held at bay, while she moved further and further from Edmund, until an abyss opened between them. No pleasant companionship would be had between husband and wife as they grew old, when her allurements had faded with age. Instead, their union would be an empty shell, a façade without a foundation. Tears sprang up and she bit her lip to drive them away.
“Are there hard and fast rules that a father must follow?” Lord Norville asked. He looked at his son, took note of Maddie’s wet eyes, and he smiled.
“A signed contract binds all men under the law.”
“In the case of a breached contract, does one not find remedy under the law as well?”
“There are those matters that are best kept from public scrutiny,” Maddie said. Norville took her pawn, and she considered her opponent’s possible strategies. Her queen’s knight came into play. “When a broken contract can be made good privately, would that not be the preferred solution?”
“What can you tell me of these contracts?”
“A state of enmity existed between my grandfather and my stepfather. I have considered this as his cause of action, an act of retribution initiated upon the death of my grandfather.”
“Frankly, that seems out of character.”
“So would I wish to believe. I fear that the fault lies with me, in that I was a burden foisted upon him by my late mother. At the first opportunity, then, he disposed of me.”
“A rather harsh assessment, my dear.”
“It is indeed, yet in light of events, I do not know what else to think.” Shackleford continued to hover like a carrion crow. The more she considered his usefulness, the more she determined that he was not a man of action. She would jettison him at the first opportunity and search for a stronger ally. “I would seek your advice in this matter, as a father. Would you not wish happiness for your daughter? If it were within your means, would you not provide her with the finest gown possible for her wedding?”
Norville moved his knight, only to wince when he realized he had misplayed the piece. “My son tells me that you failed to sign the parish registry. Is this your indication that you were not acknowledging the validity of the union?”
“I recall but little of the day,” she said.
“As you have said, there are matters best settled behind closed doors.” Norville leaned forward to study the board. He touched a pawn, then a rook, but he remained undecided.
“Tell me that it will all come right in the end,” Maddie said.
“A better end than Mr. Monroe’s treaty, I trust,” Norville said. “What is your opinion in regard to Mr. Jefferson? And your brothers, what are their views?”
Maddie did her best to ignore Shackleford’s nearness while she shared Ethan’s gradual abandonment of the Virginia politician, the result of disillusionment and disappointment. “Because of our heritage, we have an attraction to all things French,” she said. “An inherent bias that is slowly falling away as we come to see that the France of our ancestors is not today’s France.”
“That would explain the thinking of many who believe you are French,” Shackleford said, drawing himself into the conversation and drawing Maddie’s attention. “Your grace and refinement do have a Continental origin after all.”
“The apple not falling far from the tree?” Norville quipped.
“The Beauchamp apple must have rolled a bit farther away,” Maddie said. “Despite my brother’s support for Mr. Jefferson, he has always looked on England as our primary trading partner. Except, of course, when it comes to fine wines.”
“There it is, then, British blood flowing through the head, the seat of rational thought,” Norville said.
“And public policy will change soon,” Maddie said. “With the election of a new president, the merchants who have suffered under the current embargo will make their displeasure known.”
“So all will come right in the end,” Norville said. “I believe it is my move.”
The Second War of Rebellion Page 42