Mother’s gaze was ablaze with green fire. Her lips were pursed into a severe expression Maddie hoped she hadn’t inherited.
The silence was so thick Maddie could grow potatoes in it. Her tongue knotted. As much as she wanted to talk about the darn six thousand pounds, she could only stare at her mother. Drops of perspiration dampened her back, and her heartbeat drummed in her ears.
“Let me help you.” Mother put the embroidery on the low table in front of her and sighed heavily. “If you think I wasn’t aware of your little…” She flourished a hand dismissively. “Friendship with that woman, you’re sorely mistaken. Nothing happens in my house without my knowledge. I’m aware of what that woman wrote to you and you to her, including all those inappropriate details on how to draw naked male bodies.” Her voice rose.
A chill crawled down Maddie’s spine. “Did you read my letters?”
Mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re as gullible as your father. I wonder if you and your sister took after me at all.”
“You read my letters.” Maddie’s voice hardened. All that time, Mother had been reading Maddie’s correspondence and knowing what she’d been planning. “But the envelopes were sealed when I received the letters.”
Mother’s gaze travelled skywards. “Oh, dear child.”
Honestly, Maddie didn’t know if she should be furious or impressed by her mother’s Machiavellian skills. Right now, she leant towards furious. “Those letters were private.”
Mother thumped a fist on the armrest. “Not as long as you live under my roof. I pay for your food, clothes, coal, and even for your books and painting supplies. I have the right to know what you’re doing.”
Maddie gnashed her teeth. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“Because I wanted to see where this madness led you,” Mother said. “I’m not against learning a craft. Playing the piano, writing poetry, and even painting, as disgustingly untidy as it is, are all skills that enhance a woman’s value. But thinking of becoming a painter as a way to make a living? Painting naked bodies?” She placed a hand on her tightly buttoned bodice. “I want you to be respected and admired, not despised and ridiculed for being a promiscuous woman. Why do you think Mrs. Blanchet had to leave London? Because she couldn’t cope with the gossip and the hatred. Her name appeared on the scandal sheet twice a week.”
Did the scandal matter though now that Mrs. Blanchet had been vindicated?
“The fellowship would provide me with six thousand pounds.” Maddie handed the letter to her mother, which was useless since she’d already read it.
“That’s wonderful. But after that? After you attend this prestigious academy, what will happen to you?” Mother didn’t seem to want Maddie’s answer, so she didn’t provide any. “Do you think you will earn enough money to sustain yourself? No one in London would rent you a room, invite you to a soirée, or simply want to be your friend as happened to your Mrs. Blanchet.” Mother let out a polite scoff. “Absurd. Painting isn’t a secure future for yourself. Art is a fickle affair. It brings you money one day and takes it from you the next. You’ll starve, Maddie, become an outcast, die in solitude, and I will not allow it.”
The future couldn’t be so grim. Maddie inched closer to her mother. “But Mrs. Blanchet—”
“She’s married to a rich man who allows her to indulge in the nonsensical belief that she’s an artist.”
“Mother!” Maddie placed a fluttering hand on her chest. How could her mother talk in such fashion about one of the most appreciated artists of the moment? “Mrs. Blanchet’s paintings are worth a fortune. Yes, her husband supports her, but he doesn’t allow her to be an artist. She is one.”
Mother’s features tautened. “I’ve been generous to you so far, enduring all that wasted time to let you be a dauber, but enough of that.”
“Dauber!”
“We’re talking about your future.” Mother spoke with the tone of someone who was losing their patience. “What will you do when you’re old and poor and with only a handful of canvases no one wants to pay for? Alone, shunned, without a husband? Mrs. Blanchet was lucky after society had mocked her, but you? You showed no interest in the gentlemen I introduced you to, and the last Season was a complete disaster. I received more invitations to dance than you did. The only thing you can converse about is paintings. Do you realise how dull it is?”
“The gentlemen you introduced to me could only talk about themselves.”
“Oh, shush.” Mother rubbed the spot between her eyebrows.
Maddie swallowed past the lump swelling in her throat. It wasn’t her fault if the gentlemen she’d met during the last Season hadn’t appreciated her passion for painting. It was her fault if a couple of said gentlemen had stormed out of the ballroom because she’d offended them with her opinions on whatdidn’tconstitute a scandalous painting. Artists had painted naked bodies for centuries.
“This madness ends this instant.” Mother picked up her embroidery. “No more talking about this silly academy.”
Silly academy? Anger flared up in Maddie’s chest. “I want to meet Mrs. Blanchet,” she said in a low voice cracking with emotion. When her mother didn’t reply, she spoke in a firmer voice, “I want to—”
“I heard you.” Mother glared, pausing her embroidery again. “As your mother, it’s my duty to protect you from disappointment, or, in some cases, stupidity. But do you want to make a fool out of yourself? By all means, show one of your paintings to that woman.”
That hurt. Maybe Maddie wasn’t as talented or prepared as Mrs. Blanchet, but she worked hard and, with the right training, she was sure her technique would improve.
“But if she doesn’t like it, you’re going to do whatever I say. Is that clear?” Mother asked.
Well, if Maddie couldn’t receive the fellowship, her chances of entering the academy were nought. She gave a curt nod. After all, she wanted to impress Mrs. Blanchet.
Mother focused on her embroidery—the silhouette of an angel, ironically. “At your age, I was married and carrying my first child. Painting. Travelling. Adventures.” She huffed. “Nonsense. Life is harsher than what you think, Maddie, especially when you are a young woman in London.”
