Horrified, Anna managed a squeaking protest. “M’lady, your husband will be furious! All that beautiful hair!” She ran her hands through the soft mass at Mariah’s feet, as though it had been her most treasured possession instead of her mistress’s.
Mariah, in a good mood for the first time in days, wouldn’t be depressed. Turning her head at different angles, she admired the reflection in the mirror. Curls framed her face, falling about her neck and shoulders in a profusion of ringlets. Because her hair had been so heavy and thick, it had become wavy instead of curly, but now as she tossed her head, it felt light and airy and she smiled happily at the effect. Rinsing her face with cool water, she lay down for a half hour’s nap with tea-soaked cotton over her eyes and when she finally rose, the difference was amazing. Once again, she looked young and carefree.
Excited now, she dragged Anna over to review her wardrobe and finally chose a sheer green lawn over a deep-green silken underskirt. It was simply designed but had a low-cut bodice that looked both innocent and alluring. The next order for Anna was a steaming hot bath filled with perfumed water.
Finally she arose, pink and glowing healthily from the steam. Wrapped in a towel, Mariah relaxed while Anna massaged the same perfumed oil over her shoulders and throat. After she had dressed, she studied her face in the mirror’s reflection and decided she was too pale. The lightest touch of cream rouge brightened her cheeks and a light dusting of powder completed her face makeup.
Now Mariah surveyed the finished product in the minor, tying her hair back on each side of her face with tiny jade velvet ribbons. As she moved, the dress made an entrancing swishing sound and she whirled once more, just for the sheer joy of feeling good again.
Watching her mistress, Anna smiled at the effect but added an admonition. “I just hope Lord Carleigh approves of your hair, m’lady!”
"Don’t fuss so, Anna,” Mariah commanded. “He’ll be so happy to see me without a tear on my face he won’t even notice!” Satisfied with her results, she went downstairs to seek her father-in-law’s approval. Unable to locate him, even in his favorite spot, the library, Mariah sought out Henges to inquire where his Lordship was.
When Henges informed her that Lord Maubrey had gone out to shop and then have dinner with an old friend, Mariah smiled to herself, realizing what Stuart was up to. The dear old rascal…he’d gone out purposely so that she and Jared could be alone that evening. Drew was almost never home, but always out drinking or gambling with his friends. Mariah told a downstairs maid to let Henges know she would be in the music room when Lord Carleigh arrived home.
The room was seldom used. Stuart’s second wife, the Russian Vera, had made use of the grand piano but since her death there had been no one who played well enough. While she waited for Jared’s return, Mariah sat at the bench and caressed the keys, wondering if, after three years without practice, she could still play. Her parents had made sure she had the best music tutor available and for over three years she had faithfully practiced at least two hours each day. A few trial notes assured her she had not lost her touch. She set a classical piece on the stand and filled the room with melodic sound. When she had finished, she was startled by the sound of applause and turned to find Jared, listening at the door.
“I never knew you could play so beautifully! It seems I discover something new about you almost every day.” Mariah jumped up and ran to him, eager to be held close. “Oh Jared, I’ve been…
Jared interrupted her speech to apologize. “Mariah, I’m sorry I’ve been such a hopeless boor. I know how troubled you’ve been and I haven’t been too understanding. Forgive me?”
Mariah laughed at the dual apologies. “You didn’t give me a chance to finish, darling! I was about to confess how dreadful I feel about the way I’ve treated you. I’ve been immersed in self-pity.” She snuggled against him. “You’re the one who must forgive me,” she insisted. Smiling up at him, she asked, “Don’t you notice anything different? Not one tear, they’ve all dried up. I don’t think I could cry anymore if I tried!”
Jared held her at arms length. “You looked lovely even with tears on your face! There’s something different though, something you’ve done…it’s your hair, you’ve cut it!” He sternly ordered her to turn around for his inspection.
She slowly revolved and then faced him once more. With one hand she felt the length again, suddenly unhappy with her impulsive decision. “It’s still long, Jared. It grows very fast.”
The slender oval face seemed so forlorn, Jared laughed and pulled her close again. “It makes you look like a little girl, sweetheart. No one would believe you’re a mother already and about to be again. You could have considered my feelings,” he teased. “Now, when I take you to bed, I’ll feel like I’m robbing the cradle!” After dinner when they retired early and Jared emerged from his dressing room, the Mariah who awaited him in bed was obviously no child. Only a sheer, diaphanous gown veiled her still slender, seductive shape, and she was totally woman.
Afterward, when they lay exhausted and sleepy together, Jared said, “Why don’t we get away for a while, just the two of us? Father has a hunting lodge in Surrey. The area’s lovely but rather deserted this time of year.”
Mariah was thrilled by the idea. Her fingers played teasingly across his chest. “It sounds delightful, Jared!” Smiling and cuddling close to him, she was already anxious to be away, spending her last two weeks alone with him.
Chapter 35
Looking back on this time together would later be very painful for Mariah; but now, with a soft mantle of winter white overlying the secluded, wooded area, she thought herself the luckiest woman alive. With one servant to take care of their needs, she and Jared were alone and lost in a suspended world of their own, a world neither wanted to end. Each morning they rode along the forest paths and each evening they lay before a roaring fire at the lodge. Intermingled with the days were the sweet, dark moments when they sought comfort in each other’s arms. Both refused to think of the separation soon to come.
When they had to return to London, Mariah kept up a bright, effervescent chatter the entire trip, but Jared could sense the brooding sadness beneath the gay wit. As soon as they reached home, he had to begin packing, for within the next two days he was to report to the barracks for final orders. On the third day a dress color parade had been scheduled for review before the Queen and Prince Albert. Mariah and Beth planned to attend with Stuart.
The day of the parade, the air was cold and crisp, with a slightly bitter scent that predicted snow. Bundled well against the weather in her warmest cape and muff, Mariah sat in the reviewing stand that had been reserved for the wives and relatives of the officers. Glancing about, Mariah was forced to remember that she wasn’t the only one suffering the heartache of seeing one of the soldiers off to the war. Withdrawn and preoccupied, she had to ask Beth once again the question she’d asked.
"I said, I’d heard that quite a few women were going along to the Crimea with the troops, dear. Not just the ordinary soldiers’ families but ladies too. It seems it’s quite the thing to do.”
Mariah’s face registered a brief excitement before her expression fell. “I thought for a moment, you and I could go, but…She glanced down at her slightly rounded stomach. “I almost forgot…Jared would never allow it.”
To draw Mariah’s attention away from her disappointment, Beth suddenly pointed down at the troops passing for inspection. “Look, Mariah, Lord Maubrey—it’s Jared and Tony! See, in the first row.”
Straining forward, Mariah finally caught sight of Jared. He was tall and dignified astride the big bay stallion his father had given him. Mariah stared through misty eyes and her heart filled with pride at the sight. As the troops passed the royal stand, the regimental flag, with it's motto, Death or Glory, was dipped in salute and all officers glanced toward the stand, then went forward again. Every movement was smartly precise and, like a well-oiled piece of machinery, the regiment moved down past the stands and out of the
courtyard.
Mariah was choked by a mixture of longing and pride and as Stuart patted comfortingly at her tightly clasped hands, she realized he shared her feelings. Eyes that were so like Jared’s glowed at her with gentle reassurance.
Following the parade, time was a blur until Mariah found herself at the train station. She had the briefest moment to be held in Jared’s arms before he boarded the train. In the crush, she lost sight of him and frantically clutched at Stuart’s arm, searching the faces of the men who lined the open car windows. Victoria Station was a madhouse, a riot of loved ones, all anxious for that one last glimpse.
The train began to chug away. Steam gushed forth and whistles sounded, drowning even the raucous babble of voices calling last-minute endearments to lovers and sons. As the clacking wheels picked up speed, moving the long line of cars away, Mariah finally caught sight of Jared. He leaned from the second car, waving to get her attention. Their eyes met one last time and he blew her a kiss as the train issued another belch of dirty steam, obscuring everything in a gray mist.
For the first time in weeks, Mariah gave in to her tears. Stuart put a supportive arm around her shoulders. “Go ahead,” he insisted, “you’ll feel better afterward. Jared’ll be home before you know it—in time for the baby’s birth perhaps!” He steered her through the shifting throng of other saddened people; but before he reached the front of the station, where his carriage awaited them, he took one last look at the empty track. He wondered if his comforting words would prove true. Surely he couldn’t lose his son so soon after finding him.
Mariah kept determinedly active the next few weeks in an effort to keep her mind from Jared’s absence. Stuart had introduced her to a friend of his, Sidney Herbert, the Minister of War. Herbert was supportive of the efforts of Florence Nightingale, who was desperately trying to improve the military hospital systems in the war zone. Florence had an excellent reputation in London as a crusader against antiquated hospital conditions, but, as a woman, she was having a difficult time drawing financial support for her improvements.
The meeting was an extremely cordial one. Herbert’s secretary served tea and small sandwiches. After the amenities were over, Mariah settled down to business in a manner that surprised Herbert. He was quite taken aback when, after a short discussion of Miss Nightingale’s problems in the Crimea, Mariah drew a bank draft from her reticule and handed it to him. She had only one stipulation.
That will be my first contribution, Mr. Herbert. I hope Miss Nightingale will be able to put the amount to good use. I’ve given a great deal of study to the subject; and as my husband is assigned to the area, you can be assured of my continued interest.” Mariah smiled and added, “I should like to correspond with Miss Nightingale, if possible. I realize how busy she must be but I truly would like to help as much as possible. As another woman, I might be able to help to make her work easier.”
Sidney Herbert had all he could do to keep his shock from showing. The bank draft was a sizable amount and lady Carleigh had promised that it was only the first of her contributions. He’d been practically begging wealthy friends to contribute for hospital supplies and had to report his failure to Florence just a week ago. Her long letters from the Crimea, pleading for further support, had been answered by, of all people, Maubrey’s American daughter-in-law! Florence would be thrilled. She’d be inspired to write a thousand letters for continuing support of this type.
"Lady Carleigh, I can’t express my gratitude or that of Miss Nightingale in properly eloquent terms. You have no idea how welcome this draft will be! I admire your astute appraisal of the situation and your kindness in contributing. Florence will be more than happy to let you know of her progress at Scutari. In fact, should you care to visit the area and see your husband, we could make arrangements for that also. Lord Carleigh is a Seventeenth Lancer if I’m not mistaken, under Lord Cardigan’s command. Should be easy enough to arrange.”
Stuart broke in and cut the conversation short before Mariah filled her head with a mad desire to accept Sidney’s offer. “Lady Carleigh is expecting my second grandchild' in August, Sidney. It’s hardly the time for a strenuous journey by ship to a war zone. However, should Jared still be stationed in the Crimea after the child’s birth, I might let Mariah venture forth under my supervision. At any rate, I’m afraid we must be going.” Surprising Herbert further, he pulled a bank draft from his coat pocket and handed it over. “I’d also like to see those boys get the best of care. Please accept this with my best wishes, Sidney.”
Herbert was at a loss for words. Lady Carleigh’s contribution had been an unexpected bounty and her father-in-law’s draft matched the amount. He came from behind the large desk and took Lady Carleigh’s delicate white hand in his, placing a light, respectful kiss upon it. “Would that England had more gracious ladies such as you, Lady Carleigh. The country and our fighting men owe you a debt of gratitude. Allow me to represent the wounded in thanking you for them.
“Stuart, you mustn’t keep Lady Carleigh hidden away so much. Society would greatly benefit from exposure to such a fine and generous lady.” Turning once more to the smiling Mariah, he added, “You must come to a reception I’m giving for the Royal Majesties in two weeks. The Queen is very interested in our American cousins and I’m sure she’ll be delighted to meet you!” Mariah smiled her acceptance and withdrew her hand.
“Stuart, forgive me for ignoring your contribution. I’m afraid I’ve been carried away with admiration for your lovely daughter-in-law. Your son’s a very lucky man. Please accept my thanks, and that of Miss Nightingale for your support.” He showed them out, laying a friendly hand on Stuart’s shoulder. “Please, you must accept my invitation to the reception. You’ll receive a formal invitation in the mail, of course, but do say you and Lady Carleigh will come!”
Stuart grinned in amusement at his friend’s change of character. Normally, Sidney Herbert was all business, a man who had little time for the niceties of social contact. “I’ll have to let you know, Sidney. With Mariah’s condition, I don’t like to tax her strength too much.” When Herbert seemed crestfallen, he added, “She’s been feeling fine, though, I don’t see why we wouldn’t be able to come.”
Sidney stood watching as Lady Carleigh and Stuart moved off down the hall, noting the warm bond of affection that seemed to exist between them. The young beauty fascinated him, with her soft voice and startling interest in a subject most ladies of society would disdain to even discuss. Smiling to himself, he reentered his office to jot a quick note to Florence.
Chapter 36
Mariah had managed to convince Stuart she felt well enough to attend the reception by pleading prettily and Stuart could see how easily she got her way with his son. “All right, dear, we’ll attend, but you must tell me if you tire,” he said, adding with fondly paternal sternness, “I insist on it!”
Wearing a very demure afternoon gown, Mariah was escorted on the third of February to Sidney Herbert’s elegant townhouse on Park Lane. Long white gloves covered her nervous hands and a slight perspiration dampened her palms. Raised to be at ease in society, she still found a sudden shyness overwhelming her at the thought of meeting the one woman who had set the moral standards of the day, in America as well as England. One of the last guests to arrive, Mariah was soon near the end of the receiving line with Stuart’s comforting presence to give her support. Finally they made their way before the royal party. As Mariah sank into a deep perfectly executed curtsey, she heard Mr. Herbert introduce her to Queen Victoria and the Royal Consort, Prince Albert. A dry, gentle voice crackled a command that she rise, and doing so, she found herself face to face with a rather plain, sweet-faced woman who was the Queen of Great Britain. Kindly blue eyes twinkled; and dazzled by the woman’s diminutive, yet commanding presence, Mariah found herself unexpectedly speechless and numb. Her Royal Majesty smiled a greeting. “We’ve looked forward to meeting you, ever since our Mr. Herbert told us of your kindness to our wounded fighting men.” Her imposin
g glance swept the room filled with her subjects and her eyes narrowed sternly before they returned to smile at the girl who stood before her. “I understand you’re an American by birth, my dear. Under the circumstances, your generosity, compared with that of some of our subjects, is even more outstanding. I’m looking forward to discussing your homeland in detail.”
Relaxed by the Queen’s gracious manners, Mariah at last found her tongue. “I was born an American, Your Majesty; however, since my marriage to Lord Carleigh, England is my homeland and commands my loyalty, as her Queen commands my loving respect.”
Turning to her husband, Victoria smiled with satisfaction. “Prettily said, was it not, my dear husband? As lovely as the lady herself! Would that we had more such subjects!” Mariah was dismissed with a royal nod.
Stuart, after making an obeisance to his monarch, escorted Mariah into the large reception hall, leaning close to praise her poise and bearing. “Her Majesty was impressed, Mariah. Usually she nods a welcome and is already greeting the next person, but to hold a conversation…well,” he added proudly, “I should have known she’d be pleased!”
Later, when the elegantly dressed couples filled the floor with dancing, whirling blurs, Mariah was summoned to a small anteroom for a private audience with Victoria.
When she arrived, the Queen was attended only by her ladies-in-waiting while Prince Albert performed the duties of socializing with her subjects. To Mariah’s surprise, the ladies were dismissed, leaving her alone with the Queen. After she had kissed the Queen’s hand and risen from her curtsey, Victoria patted the cushion next to her. “Please, while we’re alone we need not attend to the formalities. Sometimes even a queen tires of proprieties!” When Mariah was seated, the Queen began a long, interesting dialogue. For all the world like two ordinary women anywhere in the world, they discussed bearing children and Mariah’s expected child. When Mariah informed her that she already had a two-year-old daughter, she added, “We’re praying for a boy this time, your Majesty, a son to carry on the title.”
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