Chapter Six #2
“I think it is dear that he has carried strong feelings for you all these years,” Portia said, thinking of Colonel Chattan’s request.
“If I’d wanted him years ago, I would have encouraged him. He was nothing like your father. Not half as handsome.”
“But, perhaps, the much better man?” Portia could not resist saying. “After all, he has position and fortune. Two things Father lacked at the end of his life.”
“Your father was a gentleman.”
“So is General Montheath,” Portia answered. “Of course, Father was more handsome, but handsome can’t take care of a woman.”
Those ostrich feathers quivered as her mother’s head snapped around to her. “And what would you know of it? What man do you have following you around? I will wait for you and Minerva outside.”
Several people around them heard Lady Maclean’s charge and now couldn’t help but look at Portia with sympathy.
Feeling humiliated, Portia wished she had bitten her tongue.
No good came of ever talking sense to her mother.
Lady Maclean refused to see Black Jack Maclean realistically.
Not that Portia doubted that her father had been dashing at one time, probably much like Colonel Chattan whom, she noticed, had rejoined the company.
Dear God, she hoped he didn’t hear of this small scene with her mother.
At that moment, thankfully, Mr. Tolliver led a beaming Minnie over to her. Portia gave her sister a huge hug. “I’m so happy for you.” She then turned to Mr. Tolliver. “Sir, you do not waste time.”
“I took your words to heart,” he confessed, his cheeks turning bright with color. “I walked right up to Minnie, apologized, and declared myself. I said I wanted to marry her, just bold as you please. There was a line of men waiting to dance with her. They all heard me.”
“And they heard me shout yes.” Minnie had hold of Mr. Tolliver’s arm in a display of unbridled affection. “I am so fortunate. Thank you, Portia. Thank you.”
“I dislike spoiling the moment,” Portia said, lowering her voice, conscious that many ears were listening, especially after the dust-up with her mother, “but Mother is waiting for us. She wishes to leave. I imagine neither of you said anything to her in private before agreeing to marry?”
Mr. Tolliver started to color, but Minnie quickly declared, “No, we didn’t and I wouldn’t have.
She would never have given her approval, Portia.
You know that.” She moved closer to Mr. Tolliver.
“Understand, I will not let her insult this man. I love him. She should never have interfered in the first place.”
“Agreed,” Portia said. “However, she is waiting outside for us to take her home.”
“Of course I’ll come,” Minnie said. She turned to Mr. Tolliver and gave him one more happy smile. He squeezed her hand.
“I shall call on the morrow,” he promised.
“I shall be waiting,” she answered.
“I am so happy.”
“I am happy as well—”
Portia stepped between them, or else they would be there all night. “Come, dear. We must face Mother.”
“Yes, we’ll be listening to an earful on the ride home.”
Mr. Tolliver made a commiserating sound but let them go.
As she was leaving, Portia had to steal one last look at Colonel Chattan.
He stood by the punch table. He didn’t hold a glass in his hand, which was unusual for any of the males in this group.
He was temperate and was still sober. The majority of the other men were not.
After having a father such as hers, Portia admired that quality.
And then Lady Emma walked up to him.
Portia looked away.
They were barely out of sight of the barn when Lady Maclean launched into her recriminations. “How can you throw yourself away on a doctor? A mere doctor.”
“No, he’s not a ‘mere’ doctor,” Minnie said. Portia had to admire the patience in her sister’s voice. “He’s a very special doctor. He has a heart as large as the valley and I am lucky to say that it is mine.”
“But Colonel Chattan was at that dance,” their mother said.
“His brother is Neal Chattan, the Earl of Lyon, one of the wealthiest men in England. You were presented with a remarkable opportunity to make a brilliant match with Colonel Chattan if you had impressed him in the way I know you could. Instead, you are settling for a physician, and a country one at that. What sort of opportunities will your children have with a doctor for a father?” she demanded, a plaintive note in her voice.
“Happy ones,” Minnie said. “Well-loved ones. I can’t wait to hold them in my arms.”
Lady Maclean shouted her frustration, a sound that echoed in the woods around them.
“Oh, Mother,” Minnie said, using a coaxing tone. “Think about how nice it will be to have me close at hand to you and not running around London. Oliver will always live in this valley.”
“I wanted you to run around London.” Lady Maclean pulled her cloak closer around her. “And you needn’t worry about caring for me. That is Portia’s responsibility. That is her purpose in life.”
Both Minnie and Portia looked to her in surprise. “Yes, it is,” their mother insisted in her defense. “Every family needs one child who dedicates herself to her parents. After all, now that I’m a widow—”
“You have been alone for a long time, Mother,” Portia interjected, indignation coloring her tone. Her mother’s statement echoed Colonel Chattan’s assessment, and Portia discovered, in this moment, she didn’t like being so predictable.
And suddenly, she discovered she didn’t want to be bundled off to spinsterhood. Yesterday, yes, maybe she had thought of herself ready to be set aside. Even before the dance she had thought of herself as on the shelf.
But at this moment, she was feeling, well, rebellious—and she didn’t understand why.
What had changed?
“Yes, it is true I was alone,” their mother said, “when your father was away in the service of his country.”
“He was away spending his money on his own happiness without a thought or care for us,” Portia said. “You may pretend it was something else, but I won’t. We struggled to put food on our table even when he was alive. He’s only been dead three years but I’ve barely noticed a change in our lives.”
“Except I’m a widow,” their mother declared.
“If I’d been his wife, I would have been a widow much sooner, such as the first time he stepped out of line,” Portia announced, a declaration that earned a scream of horror from her parent, but Portia was in the mood to be ruthless.
“In fact, you should encourage General Montheath, Mother. Then you will have a man who would truly take care of you.”
For a second, Lady Maclean appeared ready for an attack of apoplexy.
“Mother, Mother, please, you are upsetting yourself,” Minnie said, but the words were directed at Portia as a command for her to ease off their parent.
Lady Maclean punctuated Minnie’s chastisement by breaking into tears. “I don’t understand what has happened to my girls. Minerva has contracted a marriage, announcing it in front of everyone without so much as a by-your-leave from me—”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Minnie said, sounding as if she meant the words. Such was the power of their mother’s tears on her youngest.
“And Portia is trying to push me in a direction I do not wish to go. Why, you may ask? Because, apparently, she’s tired of comforting me in my dotage. She wants to rid herself of me.”
“You are far from your dotage,” Minnie hastened to say. “And you will always have a place at Oliver’s and my table.”
But those promises didn’t offer solace. Directing her comments to Portia, Lady Maclean said, “I know your father wasn’t a good husband, but what could be done?
I’d married him. I tried to make the best of things but I’m not like you, Portia.
You don’t need a man. You will survive one way or the other. ”
“Yes, I will,” Portia agreed, her jaw tightening with determination, even as she wondered—She didn’t need a man? Where had that idea come from?
“And that is the worst,” their mother said, “because it is not natural. A woman should be submissive and you are not in the least bit docile.”
Portia pulled back on the reins so hard, Honey’s front feet left the ground. She turned to her mother, stunned by the accusation. “I am perfectly fine.”
“Oh please,” Lady Maclean said. “If you were fine, you would want a husband and a family—”
“I’m trying to keep this family together,” Portia answered.
“Which is my original point. You are the child who will stay and take care of me in my declining years.” And then she had the audacity to smile, because she’d neatly maneuvered Portia to where she wanted her.
And Portia realized the whole purpose of the argument had been lost. She really had only herself to blame. Why hadn’t she tossed aside all worries for family years ago and encouraged one of those young men who had courted her?
Because she hadn’t wanted either of them. Her gentleman callers had not pleased her. She’d thought them boring and had preferred being alone than with one of them. Perhaps she was unnatural.
The idea was unsettling. Almost as unsettling as her realization that Minnie didn’t speak up to counter their mother’s accusation. Did she believe Portia was unnatural as well?
Portia snapped the reins and trotted Honey home.
When they reached their front door, Portia broke her silence with a terse, “We’re home.”
“Yes, please don’t be too long seeing to the animals,” Lady Maclean said, rising and opening the door of the pony cart.
“Do you need some help?” Minnie asked.
Portia swiveled in her seat to glare as hard as she could at her sister who had not stepped up to defend her. It felt good to have a focus for her own discontent.
“Do you?” Minnie repeated, apparently unmoved by the glare.
“It won’t take but a moment,” Portia replied through clenched teeth.
Minnie ignored her ill temper. “Then I shall help Mother. I’ll see you inside.” Minnie hopped out of the cart.
“Yes, go help Mother,” Portia echoed. Minnie waved off her mockery.