Page 72 of Lady for a Season
Anger pushed up inside him. “Do not call Maggie a maid.”
She fixed him with her gaze again. “That is what she is, Edward. A maid. An orphan raised by the Foundling Hospital, sent to Doctor Morrison as a servant, to care for you in your affliction.”
He put his face close to hers. “She is the only person who has shown me any loyalty, any care, any kindly feeling. For years. Perhaps ever.”
She looked down. “I am sorry you think so.”
“You think differently? Do you wish to name someone else who cared for me? You, perhaps?”
“I –” Under his angry gaze she faltered.
“As I thought.” His own mother making such a weak attempt at declaring any sort of feeling for him was unexpectedly wounding. His body tried to return to its old ways, shoulders hunching against the pain, head dropping. He fought against it,but the fear crept up in him. “So I am to marry Miss Belmont, and when you lock me away again, she must do as she’s told, is that it? Will she be brought to me once a year to breed with, a mare brought to stud to keep the Atherton line going, to secure the title? Is that all she is to you? Poor girl. Wife to a locked-away husband. And I? Married to a woman who barely knows me, shut away from my own home and family.”
“She is the best possible match for you.”
“You cannot imagine anyone else better suited to me?”
“You will propose to her.”
“Will I?”
“Yes.”
“And if I do not?”
“Then you have lost your wits again and I will have to call on Doctor Morrison’s services.”
“Refusing to marry a woman I do not love on command is enough cause to lock me away as a madman?”
“Refusing to marry a woman of your own station because you have crazed notions of being in love with a maid? Yes.”
They stood staring at one another, but it was Edward who first dropped his gaze. “I love her,” he whispered.
“You will not speak to her again unless you must do so in public. You will not be in a room alone with her again, not even during your night-time… disturbances. You will marry Miss Belmont. If you refuse to comply, Edward, you will return to Ivy Cottage.” His lips opened and hope entered his eyes, but she shook her head. “Without her. If you do not comply, she will be sent away at once.”
Standing alone in the morning room, Maggie tried to stop her tears falling, but they would not, despite wiping her face more than once. Swallowing, she turned to leave, anxious to return to her room where she could be alone without being seen by anypassing servants. Stepping into the hallway, she heard footsteps coming and hastened towards the stairs just as Edward burst out of the drawing room, his expression that of a desperate man. He stopped at the sight of her, the two of them standing for a moment, eyes locked together in mute misery, before Maggie turned and ran up the stairs, a sob escaping her as she reached the landing. Edward stood watching her flee, his hands in fists by his side.
Chapter 9:
Proposals of Marriage
May passed in a wretched haze. Whole days would go by when Edward and Maggie did not speak to one another. Mealtimes were silent. When Edward screamed at night, as he did often and more violently as time passed, Maggie would sit trembling in the darkness of her room, not daring to go to him, listening to Joseph trying to comfort him next door.
Outside of Atherton House, the social season continued, inexorably demanding their presence. They walked, they rode, they attended picnics and balls, church on Sundays, even a few weddings as theton’s marriage mart started to bear fruit. The young women who knew they were not being considered for Edward chose other suitors, whether for love or money. Maggie changed her dresses repeatedly, from morning dresses to walking dresses to riding habits and evening gowns, allowing Jane to pick and choose as she wished, having lost any pleasure or interest she might once have had in the lavish wardrobe and the regular additions to it that her modiste was all too happy to provide as the season progressed towards its final stages. By the end of June, many of thetonfamilies would head home to their estates, as the summer sun made London too hot and toomalodorous for their sensitive natures. The men might need to stay or come and go for the final sessions of parliament at the end of July, but even they would head home as soon as possible. Time was running out.
Where Maggie had once hoped for Edward to be happy and healthy, free to make his own choices, now she could only hope for a quick marriage to a suitable woman. Her own desires, her own feelings for him were not only utterly impossible, they were also dangerous to him. She pushed them down when they rose up in her. The only way she could care for Edward was to keep him free. And that meant married, to a woman of theton. And so she attended the parties and encouraged the young women who flocked to Edward, stepping out of their way, nodding and smiling when they indicated they wished to join them on a walk. Edward’s freedom was all that mattered, she told herself, even though the idea of him marrying another woman gave rise to an ache inside her that grew each day that she saw him bow and smile to one lady after another, offer his hand to help them into their carriages, partner them in dance after endless dance. In the brief moments of their days when there were no social obligations or Parliamentary sessions, a stream of important-looking men made their way into Edward’s study and then left, looking well pleased. Maggie could not fathom their purpose in visiting him, until, at a more than usually dull ball, she overheard the Duchess speaking with an elderly man.
“Your Grace. I wanted to say again how greatly we have appreciated His Grace’s interest in our efforts at the Foundling Hospital where I am a governor.”
The Duchess’ expression stayed carefully blank. “His Grace is interested in so many charitable institutions,” she said at last. “I do not think he has yet apprised me of his attentions tothe Hospital. Will you tell me more? I do so admire your work there.”
“He has made amostgenerous donation to our funds.” The gentleman smiled. “But he has also made arrangements that several children each year should join the Atherton estates both here in London and in Buckinghamshire, to be servants or apprentices. It is more than we could have hoped for from such a young man, to already be so thoughtful of the needs of those less fortunate.”
“He is very charitably minded,” agreed the Duchess, her voice lacking all warmth. “I will let him know his bequest has been well received, Lord Gibbs.”
Maggie turned away, aware that her eyes were filling despite her best efforts to seem unaffected, but over the course of the month she heard from more than one source that Edward was busying himself with charitable works, from supporting the building of a new site for Bedlam atSt. George’s FieldsinSouthwark,to large donations to the Philanthropic Society,whose efforts centred on beggar children being taught crafts.
“We are most grateful for your generosity, Your Grace.”
