Page 30 of Lady for a Season
“So be it.”
Maggie was surprised by Edward’s stubbornness on these matters, but he would not budge and insisted he would continueto wear his “farming clothing,” as the Duchess referred to his suits.
“You cannot go anywhere or be seen by anyone until this is dealt with,” the Duchess said. “And you will eat in this room. We cannot have the other servants see you like this.”
“We will spend our days in the nursery, then,” said Edward. “Since you treat me like a child, it seems the best place.”
The Duchess swept out of the room in a fury, leaving the four of them in a long silence.
“Order the tailor from Aylesbury,” said Celine at last to Joseph. “They will gladly come if they think they can claim to be clothing the Duke of Buckingham. I will order a seamstress to make the undergarments. His Grace and Miss Seton will remain here for a week, and we can be done by then, I am sure of it.”
Celine and Joseph left and, soon after, Maggie and Edward were sent food, two large trays of it, including a soup of spring greens, pigeon pie, tongue, asparagus, mushrooms, stewed pears and a syllabub.
“All this for us?”
Edward gave her a look. “You have not yet dined amongst theton,” he said. “This is nothing.”
The food was very good although they could not finish it all. Afterwards Celine brought the nightdress and the toothbrush with the tooth powder and mouthwash for Maggie to use, along with a green shawl to drape over herself. Joseph brought a matching set of toiletries for Edward, who reluctantly agreed to wear a clean nightshirt so that his shirt could be washed and dried.
“Goodnight, Edward,” Maggie said once they were alone again.
“Goodnight, Maggie.”
The side room had been where the nursemaid would have slept, Maggie supposed. The bed, freshly made up by Celine andherself, was comfortable enough, but she had only been asleep for a little while when Edward’s nightmares began.
“PLEASE!”
Startled awake and unused to her surroundings, Maggie at first struggled to find the door into the nursery.
“FATHER! NO!” and a scream, worse than she had ever heard from Edward.
She burst into the nursery at last, tripping over her feet in her haste to reach Edward’s bedside. The lamp’s dim glow revealed him, bolt upright in his too-small bed, arms flailing as though seeking to stop someone. Maggie grasped his arms, brought them down, put her arms about his shoulders.
“Edward! Edward, it is me. Maggie. Edward?”
At her voice, he slumped, as though suddenly released from some unseen struggle, leant into her arms. “Maggie. Oh Maggie.”
She felt tears, wet on her bare arm and held him closer to her. “Edward. It was a nightmare. You are safe now.”
He pulled away from her embrace, now fully awake. “I am sorry.”
“There is nothing to be sorry for. “Will you tell me of what you dreamt?”
Silence.
“Never mind,” she said gently. “Will you sleep now? Shall I leave my door open? I could barely find it in the dark,” she added.
“No, I will – I will sleep.”
Carefully she made her way back across the room to her bed. Once there she wiped his tears from her skin and lay back down. What horrors had there been in this house, she wondered, that had led Edward down the path of lunacy?
Within a day, lured by a generous purse, a local seamstress andher assistant were installed in an unused small parlour and set to work sewing over a dozen shirts for Edward, then moving on to nightshirts, while a hasty order of cravats, stockings, shoes, boots and slippers was made to local suppliers, sending Edward’s measurements to them. A tailor with three assistants and a carriage full of rolls of cloth arrived from Aylesbury, was allowed brief access to Edward in the Iris Room, dressed only in one of his new shirts for fear of them even catching a glimpse of his current attire, before taking over the parlour as the seamstress left, the four of them cutting and sewing for days. Maggie would have liked to have seen how their work was progressing, but Edward wanted nothing to do with them. Various parcels had also arrived with the tailor, including hat boxes and a parcel containing a beautiful long silk robe in shimmering peacock blue.
“A banyan, Your Grace,” said Joseph, unpacking it and shaking out the folds. “For morning or evening wear when you are at home without guests. Worn over your shirt and breeches.”
“My father never wore them. He said they were like a woman’s frock.”
“They are very comfortable; most gentlemen wear them.”
