TWENTY-FIVE
“In the long ago days, a man had five sons, but one of the boys was greedy and he coveted the land. Off he went, to become a Protestant, one heathen in a nest of Catholics. Under English law, only he could inherit their father’s property. Inherit the land he did, but he lost the love of his brothers forever.
“His own sons came to despise him, and their sons in time. One day, the call went out for volunteers to overthrow the English king, and the oldest son of the oldest son, to spite his ancestor’s greed, ran to the side of Lord Fitzgerald.
“In the end, the rebellion failed and the oldest son of the oldest son lost the land, confiscated by the Crown. But he gained respect. He gained the love of his relations once lost to him. So you see, baby girl, freedom came at the cost of great sacrifice. Stand ready to give up all you possess, for freedom is more valuable than any earthly possession.”
“That was your cousin,” Maddie said. In response, her grandfather’s face blurred, shifted and became that of the Admiral’s father. Clinging to the wall to keep from falling, she made her way along the gallery, shivering in the cold, her sweat-soaked nightgown twisting around her legs. She would find him. She would have it out with him. Promises. Lies. They all left. Back to sea. The sea broke over her head. No, the rain. On her head. In the carriage drive, she stood in the rain. Good-bye. Glad to be quit of a husband and his tyranny. Wear this. Eat that. Go here. Sing. Play. Marital duties, repugnant.
Rocking, her sea legs gone, Maddie stood before the Admiral. “Can you not see how I could honor your mother’s memory by enforcing the ban on slave trading?” His lips moved but the words did not match the shape of his mouth. There, again, his mouth opened and closed but this time no sound came. Another step. The gallery grew longer, stretched into infinity. “And your dear Edmund, commanding a brig in Danish waters. Making his name, you see. A husband you can be proud of. Boast of. Wed in secrecy.”
Even as his face retreated into the distance, Maddie raised her voice so that he would hear. How odd, that his grey hair had disappeared. “You promised me if I did, and you have broken your vow. Now I will break my promise, God damn you. I swear on my life that I will make you curse the day you brought me to your home. I will sacrifice, sir. I will sacrifice all to topple you.”
He came closer, the younger Admiral, closer until Maddie was only inches from him. Then he became an oil portrait and the floor became a roiling sea. She sank to the warm planks, to put her cheek against the wood and hear the sea throbbing up from the keel, through the ribs. Her eyes closed, and when she opened them she was in bed. Lady Jane was holding her hand, not cruel Lady Jane but the loving one who had gone away after Maddie returned to Farthingmill Abbey. “I had to go,” Maddie said to her. Final good-byes to be made, a parting, a last look.
“I am so very sorry,” Lady Jane said. Tears trickled down her cheeks, catching at the side of her nose. “You tried to explain but I would not listen. Poor dear girl. We insisted that you come back, and to such a fate.”
“God in heaven, the resemblance.”
“How could it be possible?” Lady Jane failed to introduce her guest. Inexcusable rudeness. Maddie could laugh about it with Lucy. Later.
“Is Lucy well?” Maddie asked. “She must not come.”
“Quite well,” Lady Jane said. “When you recover, you shall visit her. She will be happier in her confinement with you at her side to amuse her.”
“How is it possible, you ask? A sailor, Lady Jane, surely you can see that they are everywhere.” The stranger resembled Cecily, a fat and powdery incarnation. Mrs. Parker. Where was Captain Tar? Where was her dear little pup? “She is his child, and I would wager my fortune on it.”
“As much as I would like to confirm your observation, I never met the late Lady Bransford. Although I have no reason to doubt you.” Lady Jane sponged Maddie’s head and the water was soft, like rose petals. “But I will agree wholeheartedly with your opinion regarding the haste and secrecy. To say nothing of the damage inflicted on her reputation.”
“I mean to get well,” Maddie said. So much business to finish, such a rebellion to be fought. A second war of independence. Sacrifice all, and gain respect.
“Yes, dear child, recover your health and you shall sit in my box at Ascot for all the world to see.” The stranger brushed loose strands of hair from Maddie’s forehead.
“Tommy Parker’s mama,” she said, recognizing the woman she had once seen across a crowded ballroom. The lady burst into tears and Maddie feared that she had made a dreadful mistake or hurled a grievous insult.
“My son did not exaggerate the level of their intimacy,” she said.
“Men and their juvenile feuding,” Lady Jane said. “The children have proved wiser than their fathers. Let us follow their example, and refuse to trade in pettiness.”
“In this we are united.” The dowager Lady Sunderland kissed Maddie’s forehead. “Your father’s mother was a woman I much admired, so much so that I aped her in every way. I will not stand by and allow anyone to cast shame upon you.”