The Second War of Rebellion
Page 43
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Nights of dancing, late hours and rounds of calls kept Maddie too busy to adhere to her preferred schedule. Constraints of time forced her to be selective when it came to dealing with her voluminous correspondence. Anything to do with business was given precedence, particularly with the onset of September and the yearling sales. Managing her finances was also of importance because she was determined to live on her own income and not touch a shilling earned by either Edmund or the Admiral. Letters piled up and the oldest fell to the bottom of a stack that never seemed to shrink. It was over a week before Maddie happened to find a request from Caroline Thompson to pay a call, but it was impossible to accept in any case. There was a brief from a solicitor to be reviewed, and until Maddie’s situation was corrected, she had to put her efforts towards a dissection of convoluted opinions and potential legal remedies that stretched the law almost to breaking. Idle chatter with dear friends had to be postponed.
Some notes were as dull as the person who had written them, and to respond to inanity was put off for another time. Letters from Edmund were included in the category, his epistles full of delight at the situation in which he found himself. The British planned to invade Denmark to force the nation to adhere to England’s embargo on French trade, which necessitated taking possession of the country’s navy in the process. Maddie was sorely tempted to debate the justification of such aggression against a peaceful country, but Edmund was oblivious to the finer points. By what right, she wanted to ask him, did he attack a neutral country for the purported crime of exercising its sovereign rights? Better to save herself the trouble and put off a response that would be an epistolary quarrel.
Even as she sorted through invitations and calling cards, she mulled over the implications of Edmund’s escapades. If the Royal Navy could enter the port at Copenhagen and land troops on Danish soil because they wanted to, how long might it be before England entered the Hampton Roads and marched an army into Washington? Her family, her plantation, her people were all at risk, put in grave danger by two men who had forced her into an equally undesired state of submission. And all because they could.
“Poor little puppy, you have been ignored,” she said to Captain Tar, who tapped her foot with his paw. “Very well. Time to play.”
An express arrived when she was chasing the dog around the garden, but the urgent message was forgotten when Lady Jane and Lucy came to call with Lucy’s infant daughter. Maddie did not give it another thought as she joined her family on a drive through Hyde Park, where little Horatia took the air in great, screaming gulps. After the ordeal of calming the baby, Maddie had to rest so that she could appear at her best at the supper party given by the Marchioness Sunderland.
The next morning, the express was still in the silver tray where it had been left, but first Maddie had to deal with yet another request from Sunderland to purchase two colts. That was followed by a missive from his estate agent who pleaded for the right of first refusal should Lady Madeleine ever wish to sell off any of the breeding stock, indeed, Lord Sunderland would buy up her entire stable should she ever grow weary of the enterprise. He stood ready to rent the buildings and grounds as well, so highly did he prize the stud at Albemarle.
With her head throbbing from the previous evening’s exertions, Maddie penned instructions to Mr. Turner, to inform him of Sunderland’s offer. There was no harm in giving him the chance to buy up what she might have to sell in the future, depending on how expensive an annulment would prove. If anyone shared her keen interest in breeding and bloodlines it was Sunderland, and if she had to let some animals go, there was no one in all of England she would rather see take possession. The dog whimpered at the door of the morning room and Maddie put aside her work. A little exercise in the fresh autumn air would do her good.
Normally, Captain Tar was content to chase birds or tree the occasional squirrel. That morning, his frenzied yapping and dash towards the house caught Maddie’s attention. “What is it, Tar? Is someone here?” she asked.
Coming towards her on the garden path was the Admiral, his eyes burning with anger such as she had not seen since she embarrassed him in front of his officers on the Intrepid. A coy smile lifted the corners of her mouth. He had felt her broadside, then. He had come to return fire. She was ready to take him on.