“Things will work themselves out,” she said, not even allowing herself to think the idea might not come to fruition.
When Pensie came by for the mail a few days later, she remarked that it was foolish for Maud to get her hopes up. Her father had to see if Grandpa Montgomery was going out West; there were still so many things to decide. Maud knew Pensie wasn’t being cruel in being so practical; her friend cared about her, but that didn’t mean she needed reminding of all of the times Father had hurt her. It also confirmed that Maud was right to not tell her about the rumors she had overheard about her parents. Pensie wouldn’t understand. Maud needed compassion, not judgment.
But as winter faded into spring, so did Maud’s hope. She heard nothing more from Father or Grandpa Montgomery.
Maud took her mind off of the disappointment by going to lectures at the Cavendish Hall with the Musketeers and preparing for exams. Miss Gordon had planned a concert in June, so after the April examinations were over, the entire class turned their attention to that. Maud and Mollie were going to do a rendition of “Mary Queen of Scots,” and by then the winners of the Montreal Witness contest would be announced. Miss Gordon was hoping it would be one of her students. Each person had to practice reading their essay out loud.
Maud and Nate walked home regularly together after her organ lessons or school, or one of the many lectures. She was uncomfortable when he grew serious, talking about next year, when she had no idea when—or if—she would be going. Or if she would be coming back.
Still, with everything feeling so uncertain, it was nice to have the idea of a possible future, even if Maud knew somewhere within that her grandparents—if they ever found out about Nate—would forbid it. So she enjoyed her time with him.
Until everything fell apart.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Maud came home from organ practice one early May afternoon and found her grandparents sitting together on the sofa in the parlor. Waiting. Grandfather stared right through her.
“We know about Nathan Lockhart,” Grandma Macneill said. “You’re to end it now.”
Maud held her shaking hands in front of her. “There’s nothing going on between us…we’re just friends.”
“Really?” Grandma said. “Mrs. Macneill, Clemmie’s mother, was here earlier today with the most fantastic story.”
Maud balled her fists. Clemmie’s mother. Not Mrs. Simpson! They’d found a way to get their revenge after all.
“Mrs. Macneill said that you and the Lockhart boy have been seen together after school—”
“That woman should pay more attention. She knows I take organ lessons with Mrs. Spurr,” Maud said.
“Watch your tone!” Grandfather said.
“Sorry,” Maud mumbled. She unclenched her fists and sat down on the chair near the window. A crow pecked at the red earth and flew away. “We are only friends,” she said, but even to her this sounded false.
“Look at us when we are speaking to you!” Grandma said.
Sitting as tall as she could, Maud faced them. This was the hour of judgment.
Grandma glared at her over her spectacles.
“Gallivanting with boys—and a Baptist, no less,” Grandfather said. “All of Cavendish is talking about it. I will not have our good name sullied by a girl who is more interested in boys than her reputation.”
There was no need to stop the tears now flowing. Her grandparents were going to think what they wanted about her.
“Tears aren’t going to help you now,” Grandma said. “You need a steady hand—one we cannot give you.” She sighed. “I cannot believe it has come to this, but perhaps finally being with your father will help to curb this attitude.”
A long silence filled the room—a silence that stretched out until Maud’s heart broke. She was as unwanted as an orphan. There was nothing more she could do that would disappoint them. It was time to find out the truth. Her heartbeat almost drowned out her words, “All of Cavendish already talk about Mother and Father…what’s one more thing?”
Without a word, Grandfather stood up and left the room, banging the back door behind him.
“As if you haven’t upset your grandfather enough.” Grandma sank into herself. “Poor Clara has nothing to do with this.”
“How would I know? You never talk about her!” Maud was weeping now. She didn’t care that they knew about Nate. She was actually relieved.
Grandma rubbed her hands against her lap. “I will not discuss this.” She cleared her throat. “Your grandfather and I are deeply disappointed with you. We thought you had learned your lesson when we sent you away last year. It is clear that we were wrong. Perhaps by leaving Cavendish, you will finally understand what happens when you allow your emotions to guide you instead of the rules.”
Maud rubbed the cuff of her sleeve against her face and took a deep breath. It was no use. Grandma had judged Maud according to gossip and found her wanting. She had prioritized reputation over family. Again.
Grandma stood up. “It is settled. Your father wrote about you joining him, but I don’t think he was truly serious. Now it is time he was.”
How had her deepest wish suddenly become a punishment? Maud had always wanted to go to Prince Albert to live with Father, to have a real family. But now he was being forced into it. What would he think of her? Shame strangled her as tightly as one of her lace collars.
It would be best if she left.
—
That night Maud lay in bed, watching the sky, looking at how the cool moon shone on a dark sea of stars.
What was she going to do? How was she going to tell him? Part of her wished she could go back. Back to when counting nine stars for nine nights was only a game.
Nate was so in love with her that he would probably wait. He’d come back from Acadia University and she could return here and marry him. Nate would believe in their love because he thought he was a gallant knight and that was what one did.
Maud quietly slipped out of bed and walked over to her chest where she kept all of his letters, wrapped in two blue ribbons made from an old dress that no longer fit. She reread them, remembering his kisses, his touch, his whistle. Would she ever get that lilting tune out of her head?
Thank goodness her grandparents hadn’t seen these.
Maud had so little power over nearly everything in her life; she hadn’t ever experienced a thrill like the power she had over Nate’s emotions. There was passion. Their stolen glances. Their first kiss. And he loved her and would wait to marry her, and she—she wanted to travel and write. She couldn’t settle down. Not yet.