Page 31 of Lady for a Season
Edward waved him away. “This fuss over clothes is absurd.” Once the clothes were complete, he would have to face the rest of the household, from whom he had so far been locked away, as well as be free to go outside, to see once again the gardens and grounds of his childhood, which held few pleasant memories. He stared out of the large windows, looking down onto the formal gardens below, hands gripping the windowsill. Maggie had been called away by Celine for another fitting and every time he was alone, the memories of his past rose up within him, making him fearful of what was still to come, which only emerged as testiness towards Joseph, which was unfair, making him only feel worse.
In the Wisteria Room Maggie watched Celine undoing a largeparcel, a delivery of everything that had ordered from Mrs Brooks, the bed now piled high with snowy white linen, from caps and nightgowns for sleeping, to a heap of petticoats, chemisettes and shifts. There were also short stays and two longline corsets. A box from the milliner provided the promised pairs of cotton and silk stockings as well as two sets of ribbons to hold them up.
The cobbler’s efforts arrived the next day, one box containing two pairs of kid slippers for indoor use, one pale cream, the other a dark blue. They felt invisibly soft on Maggie’s feet, as though she were only wearing her stockings and made her footsteps silent on the thick carpets and even on the wooden floors. The other box contained a pair of brown leather ankle-height boots, which appeared a great deal less sturdy than Maggie’s current boots, but were far more elegant, fitting tightly round her ankles and boasting pointed toes. Laced into them, Maggie took a few cautious steps. She would have to walk with more care for any dirt or puddles, should they ever be allowed outside again. She often caught Edward staring out of the windows and was unsure whether he was longing to go out or whether he felt unsettled by his surroundings and was happy being kept indoors, away from any people or places from his past.
The nursery rooms were their world, as though they were back at Ivy Cottage, but with a larger staff of unseen servants to wait on them. Only Joseph and Celine were allowed to enter, Joseph setting and lighting the fire each day.
“I feel like a scullery maid,” he said to Celine.
Whatever food they requested would be brought to them and Maggie took the opportunity to try and feed Edward better, asking for cream and sugar to be served with his morning porridge, serving him more potatoes with his meat.
The days passed slowly in the dusty nursery. They found aglobe, along with old games and toys and played with them as though they were children once more. Skipping ropes, hoops and whips, toy soldiers, spillikins and the board game of Fox and Geese kept them occupied for some time. Between and during games Maggie tried to draw Edward out on his childhood.
“Did you have a nursemaid?”
“I recall a few of them, they came and went.”
“Any favourites?”
He shook his head. “They favoured my brother because my father did. I was too shy for their liking.”
“Did you go to school?”
He looked at her oddly. “I had a tutor until I was sent to boarding school.”
“Was he kind?”
“He was not unkind. But it was my brother everyone cared for. He was the heir. It was his education that mattered the most.”
“And school?”
He swallowed, put down the battledore they had been playing with. “I hated it,” he managed at last. “It was full of bullies and my brother did nothing to protect me, he thought it all in jest, but I could not bear it.” Day after day of little torments, never-ending pranks or threats. Every day having to be on his guard. “Then I went to Doctor Morrison.”
Maggie did not wish to ask questions about the doctor. She had seen his treatments and, according to the doctor himself, what she had seen had been as nothing compared to Edward’s early days there.
For the first time in his life Atherton Park was rid of the two men who had made him miserable there, although what was to come still frightened him. What his mother wanted of him, to take up his place in society, to be the Duke of Buckingham, was as though a door to possible freedom had been opened and yet was guarded by demons. How was he to manage, when his lasteight years had been spent locked away and called a lunatic? How was he to manage, to pretend to be something he had not been prepared for? His only shred of hope lay with Maggie. If she would remain at his side, he might be able to confront the daunting task that lay ahead of him. He would have liked to better express his feelings to her, but she knew nothing of what his life had been like so far. It would only horrify her. “I am grateful you are here,” he managed, after a long silence had fallen between them.
Maggie reached out and touched his hand. “I would not have left you alone,” she said. “I was glad that you sent for me. Whatever is to come, we will manage it together.”
For all her reassurance to Edward, Maggie still found herself each night worrying about what she had agreed to. These days, playing in a locked-up room, with only Celine and Joseph admitted, was another version of Ivy Cottage, as though nothing much had changed. She could not imagine what was to come. At least Celine and Joseph knew who she was and could help her with the deception. When Edward fell asleep one rainy afternoon and Joseph came to ask if they needed anything, she took the opportunity to speak with him.
“Have you served here since you were old enough to go into service?”
“I have been part of this household since I was six.”
“Six?”
“I was a pageboy to Her Grace. A wedding gift from her father. It was fashionable for grand ladies to have a little blackamoor attending you.”
“But you were a child. Where was your mother?”
“I was taken from her and sent to England.”
“From where?”
“Jamaica.”
“I don’t know where that is.”
