Madeline did not know what to say…or admit.
“Listen,” Elsbeth finally said when the silence stretched out painfully. “Sitting here and complaining about all the things you do not know how to do will not change anything. You want to be useful?” A challenging look came to Elsbeth’s eyes. “Then do something. That’s the only way to learn. Stop being afraid; ask your husband for help.” A smirk came to her face. “That’s what husbands are for, you know?”
Smiling, Madeline nodded. “I shall try,” she promised, hugging her friend for the last time, wondering how Elsbeth always knew exactly what to say.
Do something.
For the next few days, Elsbeth’s words echoed in Madeline’s mind. However, despite her resolve to finally do something, Madeline was stuck at one point in the process of doing something. The problem was: she had no idea what to do. Where did one start?
Tossing and turning at night, Madeline finally realised that what she wanted more than anything was to help her husband. However, working on the roof or assisting with the repairs of one of the tenants’ cabins was a completely ludicrous idea.
For hours she racked her brain trying to find something to do, and then when a small idea slowly took root toward the beginning of the new day, Madeline almost jumped from her bed, a large smile on her face. Eager to get started, she rushed to dress, which had been far from easy since the day she had sent her lady’s maid home shortly after her arrival. However, with a little practise, Madeline had learnt to manage by herself, realising that Elsbeth was right. Practise did make perfect. If only she tried, she could learn.
After preparing breakfast, Madeline spent the morning in the kitchen, assisting Bessy wherever she could, trying to learn as much as possible from her mother-in-law.
“Ye seem different this mornin’,” the old woman observed, her eyes slightly narrowed as she regarded Madeline. Then a grin came to her wrinkled face. “It suits ye.”
Toward noon, Madeline filled a small basket with bread, fruit and dried meat and stepped out into the cold October air, pulling her coat tighter around her. Although her toes felt frozen after only a few steps, the wet grass staining the leather, Madeline strode on, determination wild in her heart. She had to do this. She had to prove to herself that she was not useless, that there was something she could do, that she could be of help.
Even if it was only in a small way.
Remembering Kara’s simple but warm-looking dress as well as her ugly but sturdy boots, Madeline wondered if she ought to make changes to her wardrobe. She might be a lady, but her life had changed. Maybe her wardrobe ought to as well.
From afar, Madeline could hear hammering as a group of tenants, among them her husband, restored a neighbour’s cottage that had been damaged by the storm a few days ago. Half the roof had come down, injuring the middle-aged father of five.
Wading through knee-high grass, Madeline felt her skirts absorb the morning dew as they began to cling to her legs, which grew colder by the minute. In that moment, she wished for nothing more than to return to the warm kitchen and rest her chilled bones by the sizzling fire, but she did not.
She was a woman on a mission.
No matter how uncomfortable she felt.
As she drew near, Madeline felt all eyes turn to her, the expression in them far from friendly. In fact, some of the tenants eyed her with such open hostility and derision that Madeline almost turned on her heel and left. How had her husband managed to gain their respect? And why did they resent her so?
“What are you doing here?” her husband asked as he came toward her, his gaze sliding over her, briefly lingering on her wet skirts as well as the basket dangling on her arm.
Ignoring the hateful stares around her, Madeline stepped toward him. “I’ve come to bring you lunch,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “You must be hungry.”
“I am,” he confirmed, his eyes resting on hers for a moment longer, and Madeline thought to see honest delight there. Was he glad she had come? Or did he merely appreciate the food?
As new doubts began assaulting her mind, Madeline determinedly pushed them away. She truly ought to be as self-confident as she had trained herself to appear. However, that was easier said than done.
Taking a seat on a small bench by the side of the cottage, Madeline handed her husband the lunch she had brought, careful not to look at his tenants directly. Although she did not care for their presence, Madeline could not help but enjoy the few precious moments she had with her husband. While they ate, he told her about the repairs that needed to be completed before the next downpour, voicing his admiration that so many neighbours had come to help one of their own.
“This is loyalty,” he said, admiration in his voice. “When people stand by you in your time of need, even when they themselves have not much to give.”
Glancing at the men working on the cottage, Madeline realised that her husband’s words were true. These were neighbours who supported one another, each of them neglecting the work on their own homes to assist someone in need. A strong emotion filled Madeline’s chest, one generous and noble.
And yet, it was not her, was it?
These men might help one of their own. In time, they might even come to her husband’s aid should he ever need them. But not to her. At least not for her own sake. If so, then only because of him.
Her husband.
Despite everything, he had found a way to their hearts, had gained their trust and their respect while she inspired nothing but hatred.
After finishing their lunch, Madeline packed the remaining food back into the basket, bid her husband a good day and headed back to the manor house all the while fighting back the tears that threatened to come. As the house came in sight, Madeline changed her mind and continued to walk onward, terrified by the thought of meeting her mother-in-law like this.
Suddenly, the task of making herself useful seemed unachievable, an insurmountable obstacle in her way to…what? What did she hope for? What exactly did she want? What was her goal?
Madeline could not say. All she knew was that it was no longer the role she had always desired. The role she had been trained for.
A society lady.
Wife to an influential man.
A top member of the ton.
Respected.
Admired.
Envied.
And yet, utterly alone. Unfulfilled. Trapped.
Cursing under her breath, Madeline walked and walked until the sun began to set. As darkness fell, she blinked, realising how much time had passed and finally accepted that there was nowhere for her to go…but back. Slipping into the house through the front door, she made her way upstairs to her bedchamber, afraid she would lash out at anyone who came near her. For they did not deserve her anger. They were good people.
Still, Madeline felt as though the world had played a most hurtful trick on her. Raised to be a lady of the ton, that life had been snatched out of her grasp while the life she had been thrust into only showed her that she did not measure up. What could be crueller?
Frustration clawed at Madeline’s heart as she paced up and down the length of her chamber, occasionally casting hateful glances at the two jugs still standing in the corner…in case a new leak was to spring up unexpectedly. What was she to do? The simple answer was that she could not do anything.
If anything at all, today had proved that she was the woman she had been raised to be. She could not change who she was, no matter how hard she tried. And the simple fact was that the woman she was had no place at Huntington House.
Nor by her husband’s side.