by Fanny Finch
“You take very good care of me,” Father acknowledged.
She didn’t like the sad tone in his voice when he said that. It made her worried.
“Any interesting news at the harbor?” she asked. “How is the war faring?”
“War is not a subject that a lady should be concerning herself with,” Father said.
“Is there any other interesting news you could regale me with instead?” Maria asked.
Father sighed. “My dear. Someday you are going to need to learn the principles of discretion and holding your tongue.”
Maria laughed. “Today is not that day, Father.”
“No, but it will be soon.”
Maria paused. There was something serious in his tone. A sense of…finality.
She sat down across from him. “Father? Is everything all right?”
Father looked down at his hands. Old, weather-beaten hands. Maria had often seen Father, when he was younger, helping out in the fields. All the gentlemen had to at some point.
She suspected that it surprised them. How hands-on they might sometimes have to get. She wondered if in England it was different.
She’d never been, of course. Both her parents were from there, but she’d been born on the plantation, on this island.
But she did want to go someday. The Caribbean was lovely. She loved the heat and the flowers and the wildlife. She loved the native songs and the relaxed atmosphere. But there was nothing to really do.
With Mother gone, Maria was left alone most of the day. She did a lot of reading and a lot of exploring around the land. She’d climbed trees until Father had put a stop to that.
Maria wanted to be around other people. She wanted to have proper friends for once. She wanted to be where there were people, where it was busy and exciting.
Her father spoke again, interrupting her reverie.
“I hate to uproot you like this, my dear. I know that this will not be easy for you.” He cleared his throat. “But the time has come.”
“The time has come for what?” Maria asked.
“For you to go to England. For me to return.”
“What?” Maria fairly gaped at him. “But—not that I am objecting Father but—why? This is all so sudden.”
“Perhaps,” Father acknowledged. “Or at least, sudden to you. But I’m afraid the time has come. I have just received a letter as to that effect. It sets aside many doubts I was having.”
“I think you had better explain,” Maria said.
She was his daughter, yes. And she did not know much of the finer things in life, it was also true. But she had been running this household for the past three years since Mother’s death. She was far from stupid and she did not appreciate being kept in the dark about something that so affected her future.
Father sighed. “I have worried for some time about your future.
“Dr. Perquon has made it clear that despite all attempts, this climate is not doing me any favors. That was part of why your mother and I came out here. It was hoped that the warmer climate would benefit my ailing health.
“And for a time, it did. I grew better. But now it seems nothing can prevent my health from fading. My body is determined to betray me.”
Maria reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing gently. She could hear a trace of frustration in his voice despite his casual tone and warm c’est la vie smile.
Father continued. “Since there is nothing to be done about my health, I turned to thoughts of you.
“I miss England. It is my home. I wanted to return to it, of course. Even more so, I wanted to introduce you to London society. I should have done so much sooner, in fact.”
“I’ve been happy here,” Maria protested. “I see no reason to take me away too soon. And you needed someone to stay behind at the house and take care of things there now that Mother is gone.”
“That is all true,” Father said. “Those were the excuses that I gave myself for keeping you here instead of sending you to London.
“But most girls your age were already presented to society a year or two ago. To be a young lady of nineteen who has not even been introduced…” Her father shook his head. “It is not unheard of, certainly. But it puts you at a disadvantage to be married.
“I should have sent you away to England. But you were all that I had. And I have been worried for you. The upbringing that you are used to is nothing like what you will encounter in London.
“Furthermore, I’m afraid that we are in a precarious position. I have been writing with the solicitors in charge of my family’s legal matters in London. I have striven for years but unfortunately this plantation and all my holdings are tied up in a legacy.
“They will be passed down to the nearest male relative upon my death. In this case it is my cousin’s son, a perfectly affable young man. I have heard nothing but good things of him.
“But he is not you. I have managed to leave you some money for when I die. It will help to inspire any man to wish to marry you. But you cannot live on it forever.
“You must find a husband and unfortunately you must do so quickly. Your age is against you and I am not much longer for this world.”
“Father, don’t speak like that.” Maria’s fears concerning marriage paled in comparison to her concern over her father’s fatalism. “You are in better health than you think you are, I am sure. There is no reason to think such things.”
“I must return to England and see about my affairs,” Father went on. “I am sure that my relative will want an income a year rather than having to sail across the ocean to a plantation in the colonies.
“Therefore, I must sell this place and see about wise investments instead. To provide an annual income. And of course I must see to providing you with a bit of inheritance.”
“But—” Maria stuttered. This was her home. This was all that she had known. The idea of visiting England was, had been, lovely but she also loved her home here. She didn’t necessarily want to go to England forever.
Father smiled sadly at her. “I am sorry, my dear. I know this must be a lot for you to take in. But I have contacted the son of my closest friend from boyhood. He and his sister will be happy to receive you and escort you.”
“And what of yourself?” Maria asked.
“I am too old and will be too busy to be a proper escort for you,” Father replied. “I shall stay in town and focus on business while you stay with them. They are younger and will be better able to help you in finding a husband.”
Maria shook her head. “I don’t want this. Father. Please. I want to stay with you. At least give me that.”
“This is for the best, Maria.” Father’s tone was firm and brooked no argument. “I will see you married and settled before my end if I am able. This is the way that it will be done.”
“But—”
“No arguing. My decision on this has been coming for a long time and it is final. I was only waiting until everything was confirmed before speaking to you.”
Maria felt frustration bubbling up inside of her and closed her mouth, nodding once before exiting the room. She didn’t want to say anything that she would regret.
How could Father spring this on her so suddenly? When she had no idea of what was coming? Surely he could have spoken to her about this sooner. About his illness, about his ideas, about going to London, about inheritance and the importance of marriage.
She had thought that she would inherit the plantation and all the rest upon her father’s death. She had thought that marriage was not something she need worry about as much because of that.
Now it turned out that she did need to worry about marriage, and fast.
Even worse than that sudden change was the fact that she had to leave home. A trip to a new place was one thing. But to leave all that she had ever known?
She was useful here. She ran the household. She was friendly with all of the servants and the workers. When she went into town everyone knew her name and she theirs.
/> Now she would know no one. She would be utterly alone.
How was she supposed to go into the house of strangers and trust them with escorting her? The son of her father’s closest friend was all well and good in theory but had Father met him in person? He couldn’t have unless it was when the son was quite young. Maria hadn’t even been born when Father and Mother had come to the Caribbean.
All Father had was letters of correspondence. It was easy to affect a certain manner in a letter. And even if the man was trustworthy, Maria wouldn’t know him or his sister.
She was to be placed with strangers.
How was she to manage that? She knew hardly anyone even on the island. Of course she knew them by name and such. But there were hardly any balls or anything of that sort. It was quite impossible to call upon someone given the terrain.
Only the few who lived in town could have a social life and those were usually of the lower class and therefore couldn’t be associated with anyway.
Now she would be expected to live with strangers for months? To…to associate with people?
A part of her was elated. Excited. She would love to attend the balls that her mother had always spoken about.
Mother had missed those balls terribly. She’d been a very social creature. It must have been for Father’s health that she had journeyed to such a remote and lonely place. She had never complained and had found much to love.
But Maria knew that her mother always longed for London society. And she wanted to experience what had made her mother love it so. It was a possible way to feel closer to her.
Not to mention that Mother had made them sound so terribly exciting and wonderful. Full of glamorous gowns and flirtatious gentlemen, the finest foods and beautiful music. It was like a sort of fairytale in Maria’s head when she pictured it.
But the rest of her was terrified. How was she supposed to fit in there? People in England must be quite different from people in the Caribbean.
Her father had said as much many a time. Telling her “not in England” was practically his hobby.
“They would not permit that in England,” he would tell her when she came in with three inches of her hem soaked in mud.
“In England you will not be allowed such behavior,” he would say when Maria was hungry and devouring dinner.
“When you are in England you shall have to watch your tongue,” he would declare when she had offered up her frank opinion on a shipping charter.
“Well we aren’t in England right now, are we?” she would always counter.
It wasn’t that Mother hadn’t done her best. Maria knew how to dance and could play the pianoforte and the harp. She knew needlework and was very good at drawing. In fact, the latter, along with watercolor, was her favorite hobby. She loved sketching or painting the plants and wildlife.
She was accomplished enough, in other words. It was just the idea of talking to people, of introducing herself to so many strangers for their scrutiny…well, it was intimidating. She dared any other woman not to feel the same.
But there was no way out of her predicament. Not that she could find.
Maria went back outside and sat on the edge of the porch. She had always felt best when outside.
She would have to go to England. If Father was being so firm about this then it was because he saw no other way. Father was not a man who made hasty decisions. Nor was he the sort of man who clung to a decision simply because it was his. He was almost always willing to listen to the advice of others.
The only times he refused to hear the opinion of someone else was when he had already gone through every option. When he knew that whatever this person was going to offer up, he had already thought of, tested, and discarded.
It had meant that he had sometimes missed the opportunity on investments because he would not act with haste. But it had also saved them many a time from getting involved in something that would have led to their loss of fortune and ruin.
No, if Father was being stubborn about this it was not out of ridiculous pride. It was not simply for the sake of feeling his power as the head of their tiny household. It was not so that he could look at himself in the mirror and say, I am right.
It was because there was no other way.
Maria wrapped her arms around her legs, tucking her chin over her knees.
She would have to be good for Father. She would have to be sure to do him proud. He must be stressed in such a trying time as this.
If only she were a man. She could help him out. Father wouldn’t have to leave this lovely climate if he didn’t want to. She could inherit the plantation.
Or, if Father insisted on selling it and giving her an annual income, she could at least assist him in dealing with the lawyers and such.
But she was a woman. And so there was nothing she could offer him but comfort and soft words.
And, of course, getting married so that he would not have to worry about her.
She was determined to make sure that he wouldn’t worry about her. That would be unfair to him. She had acted like a child just now, Maria chastised herself. She ought to be supporting Father. She needed to trust that this was the right thing to do.
Father was a man of very sound judgment, after all. She could trust him. If he said this was what they needed to do then she would do it. She could listen to him.
Her job now was to support him. That was what Mother had her promise when she was lying on her sickbed.
She had asked Maria to remember to be the rock in Father’s life. She had begged Maria to behave with the dignity and grace that Father would need as he grew older.
Maria intended to hold to that promise. She would go to England, then, if that was what Father wanted. She would make him proud.
She stood up, dusted off her dress, and went back into the sitting room.
Father was still sitting in the chair. He looked so frail. Maria wanted to throw herself onto her knees and put her head in his lap and cry. Her tall, strong father, reduced to a shell of himself.
But no, she must be the strong one. Just as she had promised Mother.
He looked up when she entered, his gaze inquisitive but not angry. Of course not. Father rarely got angry. He had such a good temper. Probably a better temper than Maria deserved. She knew that she was strong-willed and could be a trial.
“I must apologize,” she said. “That was childish of me, to run out on you like that. Of course, we must do whatever you think is best, Father.”
Father smiled up at her. “I must apologize as well. I should have informed you of this possibility much sooner. It was an oversight on my part to think that I need not include you in my planning.
“What’s done is done now, of course. And I do hope that you will see what a good opportunity this is.”
“Why of course,” Maria said. She knelt down and took her father’s hand. “I know that you are not as rich as some but you have always taken good care of us. Of me. I know you would have left it all to me if you could have.
“Never you fear for me. I shall go to London as you request. I’m sure that I shall get along with these people you mention. If they are at all like their father, with whom you were so close, and I am like you, we shall become the closest of friends.
“And I will find a husband. You know that must be my goal in any case.”
“I had wished that you might have time for love to blossom,” Father sighed. “And to be selective about who you share your life with. Now I’m afraid you no longer have that choice.”
“A season is a matter of months, Father, not days,” Maria reminded him. “I am sure that in that time I shall find a man we both deem suitable. I will make certain that he is someone of whom you may be proud to call your son-in-law.”
Father smiled down at her and squeezed her hand. “My dear. You really are far too well-tempered for what I put you through. Thank you.”
Maria smiled and squeezed his hand back. “It is my duty and my joy, Father.”
She stood up. “Now, let us see about a proper dinner.”
She shoved her fears into the back of her mind. Whatever her continued worries were about the future, they could wait until she was in London. For now, she would remain calm and collected for Father’s sake.
It would all work out, she was sure. That was what Mother always said. It would all work out.
It had to.
Chapter 2
