THIRTY-TWO
Among her souvenirs, Maddie cherished the letter from Stephen that detailed his experiences as a defender of Fort McHenry in Baltimore. She pressed it into the sketchbook she had created in August of 1814 as she wandered the street of Washington, following the path of Sunderland and his band of vandals. How close she had come, the entire nation had come, to losing all. Yet they were not defeated and neither was she. On the contrary, the British were seeking a peaceful solution after their attempt to invade Baltimore failed so disastrously.
The Beauchamp siblings gathered on Riverside’s piazza, where Maddie expected another session of subtle pressure to marry again. She distracted Stephen with a question and changed the topic. “The issue of impressment is made moot, yes,” he said. He paused for a moment, to watch the third generation race through the garden.
“For the moment,” Ethan said. “Until the next attempt to forcibly re-introduce the aristocracy into France. Until the next conflict.”
“We hold a mortgage on Canada,” Stephen said, referring to the peace treaty. “That ought to keep them out of mischief.”
A lazy afternoon on the piazza would have been a celebration if not for Stephen’s return to duty. His next mission was intended to put American élan on display, to use the recent defeat of the world’s mightiest fighting force as a weapon. Captain Beauchamp would ship a fresh crew, drill them to perfection, and then set sail for the Barbary Coast, to pound the pirates into submission. To a man, his colleagues saw their small navy as a force deserving of respect, and they intended to demonstrate that very fact on the coast of North Africa.
“In regard to mortgages, I expect you will soon hear from the bankers in England,” Ethan said to Maddie.
And so the conversation turned to her. Feeling cornered, Maddie braced herself for the expected banter, the sweet words that would not stop until she yielded and agreed to be courted by some Low Country gentleman approved by her brothers. The fact that her sisters-in-law were absent from the gathering was proof of the plot. Emma had taken her side when she rejected a suitor from up the Cooper, and Anna had scoffed at the mention of another. Without allies, it was Maddie against a force she had never been able to conquer.
Armed with only facts and figures gleaned from friends in Charleston, Maddie was prepared to counter no less than four possible spouses based on their excessive liabilities or profligate spending habits. She did not need a man to extract her from her problems, not when she had pared down Heywood’s debts to a manageable level. Thanks to Jim Nipper’s business acumen, along with the help of his two brothers who ran the other plantations, the farms were models of efficiency and economy. She lived as cheaply as possible, and with the war ended, expected the future to hold promise.
“Beau, don’t touch auntie’s roses,” she called from her perch on the middle of the stairs that led up to the piazza. “Johnny, you mind your brother.”
The distraction ended, and with Captain Tar curled on her lap, Maddie twisted around so that she could see both of her brothers. Let them dare to suggest that her small entertainments were not up to Beauchamp standards and she would remind them that she was a Taft. Not that her dinner parties equaled the lavishness of Heywood’s parents, but in a year or two Maddie expected to be in a position to provide more extravagance. Let Ethan dare to suggest that she was not an adequate teacher for her children and she would point out that no one could find fault with Johnny’s ability to read and write and speak French.
“With peace between our countries, I believe we can return to normal,” Ethan said. “Get back to living as we once did, as we planned to do before the war.”
“It is what we all desire,” Maddie said.
“Stephen and I have discussed a certain matter and come to the realization that past enmities must be put aside.” Ethan looked at Stephen before clearing his throat and continuing. “There is no need to mingle with those we would prefer to avoid, of course. The education of our boys can be seen to without unpleasant entanglements.”
“Understand that we are not pushing you to go, as we mistakenly did before,” Stephen said.
“I will not go back,” Maddie said. Never had she expected such a scenario and she was unprepared to counter it.
“Before the month is out,” Stephen said. “Do not let me sail without giving me your word. Promise me that you will assure my sons of the education I was blessed to receive.”
“Send them with, with, why, there are any number of Low Country boys who study abroad,” Maddie said.
“Who will make a home for them during holidays?” Ethan asked.
“We are unfair in our request, we know that, but have we not done a great deal for you in our turn? Will you take up this one small burden out of love for your family?”
“If you knew what it is you ask of me,” she said.
“Take time to consider,” Stephen said. “You do not have to resume your former life, under a roof that offered no shelter.”
“The house is yours. Albemarle,” Ethan said. “Do not socialize with those you wish to avoid. Set up housekeeping there. Purchase some accommodation in London if you prefer. Be at liberty, to come to the arrangements most pleasing to you. Stephen and I stand ready to paper over any financial considerations.”
“After so many years, I am all but a stranger to those I once knew,” Maddie said. “For my peace of mind, can you not allow me to remain so?”
“But that is what we have suggested. Do as you please in regard to your social circle,” Ethan said. “Indeed, we would prefer it, would we not, Stephen?”
Another look passed between brothers, a glance that reflected a shared enmity of one person, a hostility that no peace treaty would erase. Maddie wondered if her old friends might feel the same about her. Wars stoked bitterness that lingered, created ill will on both sides. What was the lifespan of such feelings?
At her desk later that day, she sat and stared at a blank sheet of paper, just as she had stared at several others since her return from Washington. Was she wise to reach out to those she loved, in the event that they still loved her? Or was she inviting recrimination from those who had no desire to tie up frayed bonds?
And what would she write to Cecily? “I am a widow whose husband’s last years were made a living hell by your brother.” Without hesitation, Maddie would fly to England to see her dear friend, but she would do so only if she could remain invisible to those she did not wish to see. Her head began to throb as she worked at the opening of a letter.
Avoiding Cecily was the coward’s way, and Maddie was no coward. There had been a time when she considered using George Ashford as her conduit, but after her gift to the Admiral failed to elicit a response, she believed that further attempts to maintain family ties would be equally futile. With the page still empty, Maddie could not determine if it was best to turn away and pretend that her years in England had been blasted in a broadside of indifference on her stepfather’s part, or if there was some way to rebuild old bonds while ignoring his existence.
For the next two weeks, either Stephen or Ethan arrived at Belle Rive while Maddie was attempting to drum some knowledge into Johnny’s or Caroline’s little skulls. Each time it was the same, an unvarying script that left her feeling selfish for not finding a way to tolerate an onerous task. Would that she could reside at Albemarle and never see the Admiral or any other Ashford. Where did her brothers propose that she reside in London if she wished to avoid the country? Was there an enclave in the city where old friends could not find her? Was there a residence that Sunderland could never hope to locate?
He had managed to track her down in Charleston with some effort. To find her in London would be an easy day’s hunting. “Idiot,” she hissed to herself. “Do not encourage Sunderland, yet did I not do exactly that? Wise counsel, but I was so brilliant at sixteen. Stupid girl, to close my ears.”
“Are you talking to your dog again, baby girl?” Ethan laughed as he dropped into the chair that provide
d the best view of the side lawn, but his smile faded when he noticed that Captain Tar was not in the morning room. “It is not healthy to remain so isolated.”
Maddie flung the quill into the pen stand. “I am not marrying anyone for the sake of a companion who will jabber incessantly and fill the space between us with drivel.”
“I have released the tutor,” Ethan said. David’s former schoolmaster would not long be unemployed. His skill and intelligence were highly prized among the planters who could not afford the cost of an English education.
“Your children are welcome to my little classroom.”
“Do you have any idea how hard I worked, through war and blockade and economic crisis, to maintain your inheritance?” Ethan asked.
Sadly, Maddie knew only too well how difficult it was to manage a business and turn a profit. “I have often expressed my gratitude,” she said. “Do not ask me to now turn it all over to a husband. I have had enough husbands, Ethan.”
“Take our boys to England,” he said. “Do I ask so much? Is this denial your way of showing me your appreciation for years of unflagging service?”
“I would be in danger,” she said.
“Of what?”
“Of falling,” she said.
He took her hands and lifted her to her feet. Holding her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes, down into the depths of her most secret thoughts. “Was there someone? Before Heywood?”
“A childish fancy,” she said. “On my part.”
“Baby girl, if you marry an Englishman he will be welcomed into our family. Yes, Stephen fought them but that is done. Our own mother married one, for reasons known only to her, and Riverside did not tumble into the Ashley because of it. Find your happiness, wherever it may lie.”
No man could understand the twisting emotions that kept her from sleep. To try to explain was to risk saying too much, to expose her ridiculous behavior and pettiness. It was shame, perhaps, that formed the core of her resistance to an otherwise ordinary action taken by countless Low Country families. English schooling mattered a great deal to her brothers’ wives, and out of love for them, Maddie saw that she had to face up to what she had done and accept whatever amount of acrimony the Admiral determined was adequate punishment. Ethan was right, of course, she did owe her brother more than she could repay, but to deny a small measure of status to his wife, for the sake of Maddie’s pride, was unthinkable.
“I must write to our stepfather and advise him of my intention to educate his grandsons in a manner befitting their position,” she said.
“Can this not be done without bringing him into our lives again?” Ethan asked.
Their intimate discussion was interrupted by the happy shouts of Maddie’s children, who charged into the room expecting to find their cousins. With patience that had not been inherited from their father, Ethan fielded their questions as to why he arrived at Belle Rive alone. The pleasant interlude stirred up long-buried memories.
“Do you recall our father?” she asked after the little ones had been sent on their way.
“That he was very old, yes,” Ethan said. He stared out of the window, onto a vista that Maddie had created. “Distant, cold. We were for him, I believe, little more than chattel, pieces of a life properly constructed. Financial success, pretty wife, children, all in a row. All in order.”
“No love?”
Ethan turned to face her. “This all around us is his love. Possessions, baby girl. He worked himself to death out of what he saw as a demonstration of his love.”
He moved towards an elaborate bombe chest that had once graced their mother’s morning room. As a little girl, Maddie had explored its niches where bundles of letters were stored, the epistolary history of Sarah Mahon Beauchamp Ashford. Explored until she learned how to read, and then the chest was locked. It was Ethan who saved it for her after Stephen tried to smash it to pieces during a rage that had no explanation.
“That is why I have made a concerted effort to not follow his example in all things,” Ethan concluded.
“I must write to the bankers,” Maddie said. “The estate agent must be contacted. So much to do before we sail.”
“Stephen and I have asked much of you,” Ethan said. “Might I now ask that you keep your distance from Mr. Ashford?”
The idea of avoiding a near neighbor in a small village like Farthingmill brought a wry smile to Maddie’s face. There was no distance available, unless she could erect a tall wall around all of Albemarle, construct a prison in which to reside. “Given that he is forever at sea, I expect that the boys will never come in contact with him. They may not catch sight of him, ever.” A sense of serenity settled over her, relaxing the muscles in her shoulders. “The Admiral is married to the sea, Ethan. Not unlike our father, wed to the land, and being consumed by their love.”
Having made the commitment, Maddie came to regret it. An invitation arrived from Eliza Monroe Hay, calling for Mrs. Taft to return to Washington. Mr. Monroe was rumored to be favored as a presidential candidate, and what better place to be than in the midst of the rare air that would be the nation’s capital? Then there were friends from Charleston who were organizing a summer in Saratoga, where Maddie could find interesting companionship among fellow lovers of all things equine. She could only imagine the delights to be had in either location, whether making important connections in national politics or the horse set. Instead, she had to go back to Albemarle, where the stable would only remind her of dear friends like Nipper, who had to remain at Belle Rive if her plantations were not to run to ruin. Happiness lost would be her constant companion in the Hampshire countryside.
The Second War of Rebellion Page 53