Page 55 of Lady for a Season
Maggie took pleasure seeing Edward grow interested in the matters of the day and how he might contribute to the governance of the country. He read the morning papers with care and attended his club, where he met with and discussed political matters with other men. She wished that he could beallowed more time to live this new life before selecting a bride, for he needed time to grow into his opinions and choices, but she doubted such time would be granted him.
Meanwhile they attended the balls and dinners the Duchess deemed most suitable. Maggie began to look out for Lady Honora at these gatherings, for she made a refreshing change from other young women of the ton, whose conversation was very circular and limited. Lady Honora, as an only child, would inherit her father’s estate and therefore took more of an interest in its day-to-day running than most young women.
“Our steward is growing advanced in years,” she confided to Maggie. “We may have to replace him one day, it’s a shame his son has no abilities to follow him. How is your steward?”
Maggie had to confess she had had no dealings with him.
“Worth getting to know them,” said Lady Honora, “They manage everything. Staff are always a problem, though,” she added, shaking her head. “We’ve just taken two new girls as maids from the Foundling Hospital. They’re not bad but one of them screamed when she first saw Hector.”
Maggie, thrown by the mention of the Foundling Hospital, could only manage, “Who is Hector?”
“Pa’s dog. Nice little spaniel, wouldn’t hurt a fly. Turned out the poor girl had never seen a dog, can you imagine? Of course, they know nothing about life outside of the Hospital.”
Maggie tried to give laugh. “Imagine,” she said. She had only seen a dog once when she had been younger, and it had come in with a delivery man.
“I go along there sometimes, Mama’s a great supporter of the Hospital. You can join us one day if you like.”
Maggie swallowed. The idea of walking amidst faces she knew well, while amongst the ranks of the lady visitors, was a horror too great to contemplate. “I am afraid the Duchess keeps me very busy,” she managed at last.
“Well, just say the word if you’d like to accompany us,” said Lady Honora. “We go often enough.”
Parliament was to be adjourned on the twentieth of December, but in view of the poor weather, most of the families left a week or so earlier. On the fifteenth, Maggie stood with Edward outside Atherton House, wrapped in her coat and furs.
“Will you be glad to be back at Atherton Park?” she asked.
“I’ll be glad not to have to socialise for a while,” he said.
The Duchess emerged in time to hear him. “When we return you will find out what a real social season is like,” she said, taking the footman’s hand to step into the carriage. “And we will expect a wedding by the summer.”
The day-and-a-half journey back passed in a cold silence which no furs or footwarmers could thaw.
Chapter 6:
Winter
They had barely returned to Atherton Park when the Duchess received news that her brother was unwell and decided to attend him, setting off again for Derbyshire with Celine and two of the footmen.
“You will have to have a small Christmas,” she said before leaving. “I had hoped to hold some dinners for our local acquaintances, but I will not expect you to do so without me. The servants’ ball, however, must go ahead. It is traditional, and the staff will be disappointed if it is not held. Mr Wilson will arrange everything; you need only show your faces for a dance or two.”
Maggie watched the Duchess’ carriage depart, and her spirits rose for the first time in months. She had not realised how much she had been crushed by her constantly disappointed or coldly watchful presence.
The weather turned savagely cold in the two days before Christmas Day, and heavy snow fell. Maggie was awakened not by the ever-attendant Jane but by Edward, who bounded into her room, dressed in a thick cape and boots. “Come, Maggie! A snowball fight before breakfast, what say you?”
She laughed at his wild enthusiasm, the lightness that his mother’s absence had created. “Out of my bedroom this moment, I am not even dressed!”
“Be quick about it,” he said, tugging on the bell-pull for all he was worth, so that a frightened Jane came panting into the room moments later, having run all the way from the basement.
They waded out through the knee-high snow and threw snowballs at one another before retreating to the drawing room for breakfast.
“We will toast our own bread,” said Edward, dismissing the footman.
He knelt before the fire and scorched their toast a few times until he improved, while Maggie poured hot chocolate. Curled up on sofas opposite one another, they ate and drank and talked, not of any of the past few months but instead of Merlin and Lacey, of whether it would snow even more, of what food might be served at the servants’ ball and with whom they should dance.
Edward seemed to mind the cold even less than Maggie. She retreated to the drawing room, where she sat watching him out of the window as he spoke with the gardeners about a new layout he had in mind. It was good to see him having his own ideas for Atherton Park. When he returned to the drawing room he called for his steward.
“Mr Wilson, as there are only two of us, the servants’ ball can be held the evening of Christmas Day, we will not mind having a tray for dinner. And spare no expense, make it the best ball you have ever had.”
On Christmas Day they opened gifts. The Duchess had left a book on politics for Edward and Fordyce’s Sermons for Maggie, which they made no comment on, only set aside.
