by Dayna Quince
“I hope nothing was wrong?”
“Nothing at all.”
Maddie watched him carefully for a moment. “You didn’t want him there.”
“No.”
“Why ever not? He seems a nice chap.”
“He is that.”
“But…”
“But what?” He stopped to face her.
“You didn’t seem to want his presence at the practice round.”
“Well…no. He looked a bit smitten with you after breakfast, so I thought it better he not attend,” he admitted.
Maddie gasped. “You made him not attend?”
“Does that bother you? And here I thought I was the one you proposed to, and I was the only one to be courting you. But there you were flirting with Banks over your eggs.”
“I—I most certainly was not flirting with Mr. Banks. I don’t think I’ve flirted before in my life.”
“My congratulations. You’re as natural at it as you are shooting arrows.”
Maddie scowled at him. “I don’t believe you.” She stomped off toward the summerhouse. She could hear him following on her heels.
“I don’t wish you to follow me,” She looked over her shoulder, but he wasn’t there. She frowned, huffed in annoyance, and continued on to the summerhouse. She was only there a moment before she heard the crunch of boot on gravel. She smiled to herself.
“I knew you couldn’t resist—.”
Two men rounded the shrubbery, one Lord Rigsby, the other her brother.
“There now, you see? I knew I saw her going this direction,” Lord Rigsby said.
Maddie hesitated in the shadows of the summerhouse. Her brother’s expression did not bode well for her. She had braced herself before she stepped out. “Rupert?”
“You’ve been summoned,” he said coldly.
“Let us sojourn to the house together,” Lord Rigsby said cheerily.
“I’m afraid I require a private word with my sister,” Rupert grumbled.
“I cannot make Father wait if I’ve been summoned.” Maddie hurried on.
“I insist you take my arm.” Lord Rigsby caught her. “The path is damp from yesterday’s downpour.
“Thank you, but we must hurry.”
“You wouldn’t need to if you hadn’t been hiding in the first place,” Rupert grumbled as he stalked behind them.
She sent Lord Rigsby a sideways glance, but he was staring ahead of them. Rupert was not happy about fetching her, but he certainly couldn’t suspect that she had been waiting for Lord Rigsby. She hated the sickly feeling that filled her. Uncertainty was never a comfortable emotion for her. She liked things to be direct. But Rupert always liked to drag her through the mud before depositing her on the executioner’s block.
“The lady’s archery should be starting soon. We shouldn’t miss it,” Lord Rigsby said.
“I’m certain I won’t,” Rupert answered.
Maddie’s dread sat like thick mud inside her, churning and gurgling. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. They reached the house.
“See you at the field, Mr. Prescott, Miss Prescott.” Lord Rigsby nodded. Rupert turned away with a clipped nod, but Maddie let her eyes linger on Rigsby. They shared something, a ripple of awareness passed between them and then he had to turn away.
Maddie marched after her brother as they climbed the back stairs. Reaching the parlor, she braced herself. There were many voices, and they were calm and friendly sounding. But when she entered, she had to force herself to keep moving.
Her father caught her eye and glared his warning. Maddie swallowed her revulsion as Lord Berett stood.
“Good day, Miss Prescott. A pleasure to see you again.”
“Good Morning, Lord Berett.”
“I’m so happy to be joining this thrilling medieval party. It is a great interest of mine, you know.”
“I do recall.” Maddie gave her best smile, but her stomach revolted as he licked his dry lips and a string of saliva webbed the corner of his mouth
“My sister, Lady Flora, was able to join me.” He waved the woman forward.
Now her father stepped forward. “Lady Flora has so graciously offered to chaperone you for the duration of the party.
Maddie froze. “Oh…how wonderful.”
“Kindly show her to the room you will be sharing.”
“Sharing?” Maddie pictured her small room. Her low status at the house party did not afford her much space.
“The housekeeper will show you to your new accommodations. Do remember to thank Lady Worthington for her gracious understanding.”
Maddie nodded absently. “Yes, Father.” The gentlemen turned away, dismissing her. She turned toward the door, and there Rupert stood with a smug smile. She ignored him and entered the hall where the housekeeper stood waiting.
“If you would follow me, my lady,” the housekeeper said. Lady Flora followed her with the solemnness of a great queen. Maddie followed in her wake. They were shown to a decently sized room with a dressing room in which Maddie would be sleeping on a small cot. This didn’t bother her in the least. It was the woman barking orders at the poor maid who ruffled Maddie’s feathers. Never before had she required a chaperone. Not after her dreadful first season when she’d acquired her infamous nickname. Maddie was only too happy to be deemed chaperone-less. She saw the way the other ladies were caged like small creatures. Maddie did as she pleased as long as it didn’t interfere with her father’s day to day. When it did, she paid dearly.
“Miss Prescott,” Lady Flora intoned from the other room.
“Yes, Lady Flora?”
“I would have your attention.” Lady waved to the footstool.
Maddie blinked at it. “It’s a fine footstool.”
“Sit down,” Lady Flora barked.
Maddie hurried to do so.
Lady Flora sat in the chair at her vanity and looked in the mirror. “My brother apprised me of the situation. I offered my services as a favor to him and to ensure everything went off as it should.”
Maddie looked at the clock on the mantle. It was a quarter hour until the start of the lady’s tournament. Maddie needed to leave this moment.”
“I’m very sorry, Lady Flora, but I’m due to compete in the tournament just now. May we have this discussion after?”
“Oh yes, while I’m intrigued by word of your exceptional skill—a lady cannot have too many talents, you know. I was instructed that you would not participate.”
Maddie’s mouth popped open. “Why?”
“Lady Worthington advised against it.”
Maddie scowled. “I don’t understand. She doesn’t want me to compete?”
Lady Flora sighed. “I was warned that your mind was quite simple. Yes, dear. The tournament was for Miss Cecelia to show off her talent to the gentlemen. Not yours.”
“But…” Maddie struggled or a good argument. She recalled the look on Cecelia’s face as she stared at Maddie's target. It made sense now.
“There, there, you needn’t impress any of those gentlemen, only my brother.”
That statement awoke Maddie. “Lady Flora, what were you told before arriving here?”
Lady Flora spun on her stool to face her. She smiled down at Maddie, but the effect was not reassuring. Her eyes were small and sunken into her face. Her cheeks were heavily lined and plump. And her lips nearly indistinguishable from her skin.
“My dear, I am aware your father gave you a time limit to find a suitor, but I was also made aware that it was only in an attempt to mollify you. Marriage to my brother is your reality, and therefore, it is up to me to make sure you remain, for the duration of this party, a suitable wife.”
Everything in Maddie wanted to writhe and scream in revolt, but she managed to remain still. “And if I find a suitor?”
Lady Flora laughed as she faced the mirror again. Her smile broadened as she stared at herself. “Let’s not dwell on dreams, dear.”
Maddie stood and bolted for the door. “I must sp
eak with my father.”
“And where do you think you are going?”
“To find him.”
“I need to rest my eyes for a spell. You may not leave this room without my company.”
“That is absurd!” Maddie protested.
“You are my charge. You do as I say or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Your father suggested a good caning would suffice.” Lady Flora gloated.
Maddie fisted her hands to keep her control. She went into her small room and sat.
“Do remain quiet while I rest.”
Maddie stared at the small window. She walked to it and pushed it open. She could see the top of the canopy and could hear cheering. She swallowed the urge to cry. She fought the feeling of hopelessness. She would not succumb. She would not be broken so easily. If Lady Flora thought threats of pain would keep Maddie in line, she was going to be disappointed.
Chapter 5
Jonathan watched the tournament anxiously. Maddie had not appeared, and given her brother’s dark countenance when he’d intercepted Jonathan on the path to the summerhouse whilst searching for her, he was worried. He didn’t think Mr. Prescott had thought anything of his presence in relation to his sister’s vicinity in the summerhouse, but the man’s rank dislike of his own sister was readily apparent. Jonathan couldn’t ever remember feeling such an emotion for his own sister. There were times Lucy drove him absolutely insane, but he could never say he hated her.
There was something vile about the way he had spoken to Maddie. The loathing was so evident. It angered Jonathan to think how he might treat her away from outsiders. Was her father aware of it? Did he care?
He schooled his feathers toward impassivity as he watched Miss Cecelia claim more accolades for her shooting. She was clearly a level above the other ladies. All except for Maddie, who hadn’t shown up.
“Where is Miss Prescott?” Mr. Banks appeared beside him.
“I don’t know.” Jonathan chewed his lip.
“Miss Cecelia said her hand began to hurt after the practice round and she had to forfeit.” Miss Chantry clung to Mr. Bank’s arm.
“Is that so?” Jonathan murmured. He knew it was absolute bollocks. It had to be. He was going to find out the truth one way or the other. He turned away and strolled back toward the house. This afternoon would begin the gentlemen’s games. Jonathan had his own preparations to do, but first, he would need to enlist some help. He retired to his room and summoned his valet, Camden.
“Enter,” Jonathan bid at the knock. Camden entered.
“Yes, my lord?”
“I must inform you that I am considering marriage to Miss Madeline Prescott.”
“My congratulations, sir.”
“I’ve begun courting her, but no one must know that as of yet. Her father is trying to force her hand with another, a Lord Berett.”
“He has just arrived.”
“Has he now?” Jonathan said. That would explain Maddie’s absence.
“Yes, and he has brought his sister, Lady Flora, to chaperone Miss Prescott.”
“A chaperone?!” Jonathan groaned. That didn’t bode well. She would manipulate Maddie’s time, giving the advantage to Lord Berett. Jonathan was going to have to be more cunning in his courtship. Maddie was usually unfettered, unlike the rest of the young ladies here. She could be seen walking all over the estate, even talking with the hermit and no one cared.
“I overheard Mrs. Moss, the housekeeper, arrange to have Miss Prescott and Lady Flora roomed together.”
Jonathan sat at the foot of his bed and scratched the whiskers on his chin. He was going to have to increase his efforts. This was a new challenge, and he wasn’t going to accept it passively. This had deeper implications than he was wholly ready to commit. Going forward, he could not be subtle now. He was going to court her openly, which meant he must accept he had the honorable intention to marry her. Courtship didn’t guarantee their marriage, but the more he thought about it, the more certain it sounded. And that didn’t terrify him as it should.
“I’d appreciate if you could keep an account of the gossip downstairs. I’d like to know Lady Flora’s plans before she does. Discreetly, of course.”
“Yes, of course,” Camden said. “I will keep you apprised of all that is said.”
“Good. Now I may as well prepare for the tournament.”
“It is my understanding, sir, that Lord Berett will participate in sword, archery, and the joust. He has a custom suit of armor and specially trained horse.”
Jonathan paused as he was removing his shirt. “How old is the man?”
“Eight and sixty.”
“That is unnatural.” Jonathan laughed. It seemed Lord Berett was extremely committed to his interest in the period. He didn’t feel comfortable facing him in competition, not that he could best him—he was certain he could, but because it didn’t feel right to attack and elder lord.
“Indeed, sir.”
Changing to his athletic clothes, Jonathan made his way to the training field where stands and arenas had been constructed for the events. Some gentlemen were already practicing. His father was watching as two gentlemen were practicing with staffs.
“Won’t you participate this year?” Jonathan came up beside him and leaned on the fence post.
“Your mother has forbidden it.”
“After you hurt your shoulder the last time?”
“Aye.” Lord Heath nodded. “She never forgave Lord Everett for instigating me.”
“You were both drunk.”
Lord Heath shrugged. “It seemed a good idea at the time.”
“It was a pleasure to watch.” Jonathan elbowed him.
Lord Heath smiled crookedly. “There comes a time in every man’s life when he accepts that his time as a great warrior has ended, and his time as a spectator has begun.”
“I’ve heard Lord Berett has not accepted his fate.”
Jonathan’s own father was only two and sixty. He had yet to see if Lord Berett was fit enough to compete.
“Everyman must decide when to lay down his sword, but I'm not surprised Lord Berett is here to compete with the young lads.”
“You know him?”
“Know of him is more like it. He does his duty in parliament, but I cannot say we are more than distant acquaintances. He does not partake in the season.”
Jonathan nodded. If he didn’t know what he knew now, he would have thought Lord Berett a good match for a girl like Maddie. Better than ending up a spinster. But now he knew the truth, or rather, he knew her personal feelings about marrying Lord Berett. He was aware that he didn’t like the man and he hadn’t even met him yet. Perhaps he shouldn’t let Maddie’s fears cloud his judgment just yet. He needed his head together if he was going to court her in a meaningful matter.
He felt his father’s gaze.
“What is it?”
“You seem different from yesterday. A little bit more like your old self.”
Jonathan thought about confessing to his father but held his tongue. His father wouldn’t like what he was doing. Knowing his son was going to marry a girl and then essentially abandon her would not sit well. Not that Maddie would truly be abandoned. She’d have his name and a home of her own. She would have a place to be herself, just as she said she wanted. It felt like such a small thing to ask for. The ability to be free to be one’s self.
“It’s good to be home, Father. I’d come to miss home, but it does feel different in a way. I feel different.”
“That comes with age, son. Growing up doesn’t stop when one reaches maturity. A person is always growing and learning, even when one is as old as I.”
“A lot has changed.” Jonathan looked off into the distance. He imagined Lucy, the way she looked holding her baby. Her face was softer, her energy calmer.
“It has. Life has a way of doing that from time to time. Like seasons. We’ve entered a new season where your sister has settled into motherhood. I’d fear
ed I’d never see the day. Someday, you will find your place. It may not seem like it now, but it could happen as soon as tomorrow or many years from now.”
“My place?”
“I’m being ridiculously metaphorical, aren’t I?” Lord Heath chuckled.
“What is my place?” Jonathan wondered aloud. He was intrigued now.
“Your place is where you find your peace. Everything comes together as it should. It’s a sense of rightness, a sense of home that isn’t an actual building of any sort. It doesn’t mean things will be easy from then on. Life is a rolling hillside of easy and hard. But in your place, you face the easy and the hard with all the strength of knowing you are right where you are meant to be.”
“You mean with a wife and children.” Jonathan looked down.
“Not always. Your mother and I want those things for you because we know how much joy they bring. But in the end, you must find what brings you the most joy.”
“But what can I do except be the future Earl of Heath?”
“In this world, you are privileged to be a man of wealth and to do anything you want.”
Jonathan considered that. He was privileged. He knew of the difficulties Lucy had faced growing up as a girl. The cage she had to live in. Even now, Maddie was tucked away inside, her chaperone standing over her. All the young ladies were. They would remain inside until allowed out for the afternoon’s entertainment. Meanwhile, the men did as they pleased, when they pleased, how they pleased.
Dear God, it was unfair. He’d never seen it so black and white before. They called themselves gentlemen, and yet the women were very literally guarded from them.
“You’re right, Father.”
His father grabbed his chest and gasped. “Did…did you just say that I was right? I must tell your mother at once!”
Jonathan chuckled. “Please don’t. She will take it to mean I need even more nagging but will channel it through you.”
“I will take it to my grave, then.” His father laughed. “A father and son need secrets.”
“I’m sure Lucy and mother have a graveyard of secrets between them.”
“No. Your mother tells me everything.”
“No?” Jonathan had a look of horror.