Sophia nodded emphatically.
‘My Mother used to know her when they were younger and shared an embroidery class. She says nothing could satisfy the woman. There was not enough red thread or somebody had taken her small scissors or she hadn’t finished in time because the other girls were so disruptive to learn beside. Then when she completed a piece, she would boast over her mediocrity to manipulate the teachers into thinking it was a masterpiece,’ Sophia gossiped.
‘What a charming individual,’ Hannah smirked hopelessly.
‘And when we were babies – well I suppose the Duke’s sister must have been only little then – Mother had the misfortune of crossing the Duchess’s path at a social event. I think perhaps a child’s birthday party of a mutual friend. Mother says Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess said not a word to the other Mothers, simply watched with disdain and had that awful frown about her. The thing Mother noted as the height of rudeness was that she did not once say ‘thank you’ and when she tried the birthday cake, simply turned up her nose and put it to one side with a grunt.’
‘Why, she is a joy to behold,’ Hannah’s voice lilted with sarcasm.
‘The woman has no grace – she is antagonistic and chilly at best,’ Sophia concluded.
‘….And is to be my Mother-in-law….’ Hannah reminded her friend once she had completed her rant.
‘Indeed, and my point is that you are not to take her hostility as a personal sleight. She was of an inhospitable disposition from birth, it would seem likely she will be so upon her deathbed. She should be grateful to inherit a daughter-in-law as wondrous, caring and talented as you.’
‘You are too kind, Sophia,’ Hannah reached out to touch her friend’s hand over the small table.
‘I cannot help but feel weak, like a small bird – a dainty canary perhaps, held behind narrowly set bars through which only my beak can taste the freedom beyond. I imagine being able to see a canvas and my paints across the studio, but being held so robustly within this confined cage that I am unable to break free and express my creativity…’ A small tear dropped into Hannah’s lap.
‘You do not believe they will allow you to paint?’ Sophia asked softly.
Hannah sniffed and clutched at a lace handkerchief she had procured from her dress pocket.
‘I do not believe they will. Despite Mother’s protestations at my artistic ‘time-wasting’ as she enjoys referring to it – she still allows me a room to set up my art so that I have my own creative space to go to. Can you imagine the Duchess of Montwood sacrificing a room in her precious house for me to paint?’
Sophia’s eyes dropped to the floor, telling Hannah all she needed to know.
‘The Duke might, though! It ishisestate after all! Perhaps the London town-house may be abundant in rooms that are heavily furnished, but I am sure the country estate out in Montwood has corridors of rooms without purpose. The place is enormous by all accounts. There would certainly be a room there that you could make your own!’
This gave Hannah a flash of hope.
‘Would they approve though? Her Grace Anne Exley no doubt would prefer a daughter-in-law who sings and plays the piano, dances and creates embroidery….’ Hannah suggested darkly.
‘We can only speculate. I will certainly be happy to make an argument for your art!’ Sophia raised her chin in defiance.
‘Oh, you mustn’t involve yourself, truly Sophia. I will need you as my ally and therefore must keep you on good terms with them. A friend they approve of will be much more welcome for frequent visitations…’
This was a new fear that assaulted Hannah. Should she be permitted to see her friends at will? She worried that her role as Duchess would be so stuffed full of social events and mandatory attendances that there would no longer be time to see the people she cared most about. Additionally, she was anxious that – even if time should allow – it may be frowned upon to entertain in the house where the Dowager Duchess resided. Her prior appointments would presumably take priority over Hannah’s. A tremor began in Hannah’s chest with the apprehension that her whole life and level of freedom should be dictated to her.
‘This is true,’ Sophia agreed reluctantly and bit into a jam tart.
Hannah stared out of the window at a carriage below which had stopped to collect the family from across the road – there were three young daughters; two of whom Hannah recognised as fellow debutantes. They were smiling and chattering excitedly – how she envied them the opportunities they still had ahead of them.
‘A Duchess, though, Hannah! You are to be the Duchess of Montwood! How extravagant!’ Sophia smiled with the realisation.
Hannah allowed herself a small smile ‘It does feel rather unrealistic and intimidating….’
‘Mayhap you should not want to socialise with the likes of Lady Camden any longer…perhaps you will only associate with Dukes and Duchesses, Kings and Queens from this point on…?’ Sophia jested.
Hannah laughed and slapped her friend’s hand playfully. ‘Do stop!’
‘Ah, there she is!’ Sophia laughed at the success of having broken out Hannah’s smile.
‘Now – let us settle upon the positive points….’ Sophia advised.
‘There are positive points?’ Hannah looked crestfallen once again.
‘Indeed there are! We have aweddingto plan!!’ Sophia squeaked in excitement and clapped her hands together.
