“General Sheaffe got out his musical snuff box, as he always did when anyone crossed him. He snuffed deeply, sneezed three times, then he said, ‘Leave of absence granted.’
“So the captain mounted his horse, rode one hundred and fifty miles in an exceedingly short time, married his little girl, and returned on the following day to his duties, and to fight another battle.
“And he lived, Sophia, to be the father of a fine family of four brave sons and one gentle daughter. And he and I love each other as much as we did all those years ago.”
“I envy you, Mrs. Fitzgibbon,” Anna said. “You married a man of spirit, and you have been happy. How many married people can claim such bliss?”
Sophia took a cambric handkerchief from her cuff and dabbed her eyes.
The maid came in again, this time with a decanter of sherry, which she poured into six crystal glasses. Anna noticed that Eliza downed hers in a gulp and reached again for the decanter. Mrs. Powell moved the sherry out of her reach, setting it on a small table beside her chair and keeping her hand on it.
“Your local engraver, Mr. Tazewell, has been a great help in the preparation of ten etchings for my American publisher,” Anna said, seeking a diversion. “It took me twenty days to complete them, and now I must find a courier who will take my plates to New York.”
“Why, ma’am, there is no need to worry,” Mrs. Powell said. “I can assure you that I sent twelve place settings of Coalport to my brother in New York, and not a cup was smashed.”
“Coalport, Mrs. Powell?” Then Anna realized that she had not made herself clear. “Not china. The plates are glass, and I make my etchings upon them.”
Eliza laughed too loudly. “Oh, Mama, you are so…so…funny.”
The old woman’s face flushed. Anna took a pencil and paper from her reticule. “But fine china and glass are not unalike, are they? Both need careful handling. My dear ma’am, if you will be so kind as to give me the name of your courier, I shall send him a note and see what he thinks can be done with my engravings.”
Anna and Mrs. Jarvis left at the same time and stood together for a minute in the street as they waited for their sleighs to arrive. “Mama is greatly worried over Sophia, Mrs. Jameson. My brother has little interest in his family, and his wife is...is indifferent as well. That’s why Mama goes on about the rules of marriage. She thinks by laying down the law on the management of husbands, she can forestall catastrophe. Her other granddaughter, my niece Elizabeth, has just run off with a military man, leaving her two small daughters to the mercy of their violent father. I fear for their safety.”
“I can understand a woman fleeing from abuse, Mrs. Jarvis. But forgive my ignorance. Why does she not take the little ones with her?”
“Because the courts in Upper Canada always assign the custody of the children to their father. Even if he can scarcely remember their names. Oh, ma’am, you who have no children must find it hard to understand the burdens women bear in this world.”
“I am not completely ignorant of women’s burdens.”
“Have you heard it said that marriage is a nine-month preparation for death? That was my own experience with a stillborn son. And then little Eddie died at one year of age. But I have eight living children. And fortunately, a kind husband. But even if he beat me black and blue every day of my life, as Elizabeth’s husband did, I would not—could not—abandon my children.”
Anna took Mrs. Jarvis’s gloved hand in hers. “My dear, in some respects, I am fortunate in my own married life. I am free to pursue my own life and my own happiness.”
Their sleighs pulled up to the curb, and they said farewell. Yes, thought Anna, as the sleigh headed back to Newgate Street, there may be fates worse than my unhappy marriage. If I had children to worry about, I’d have to stick with Robert.
Lead up to difficult subjects gradually, and make sure you have your husband’s full attention when you speak.” Mrs. Powell’s comments came to mind as Anna sat across from her husband at breakfast.
“If you are to advance yourself, Robert, we must entertain. And since there are few theatres, ditto for clubs, we must provide an occasion where people can meet and talk. Put yourself forward, and you will find promotion.”
He folded his paper and cast it aside. He poured himself a cup of coffee and one for her. He leaned towards her, his brown eyes intent on her face. “And what ideas do you have, Anna?”
“We will have a levee here on New Year’s Day and invite all the most influential gentlemen in the town—and their wives—to visit and partake of excellent food and drink. I am told that the levee is the most important occasion in the holiday season. It will be an opportunity to show yourself to advantage.”
“In this town, it is a ‘gentlemen only’ function.”
“No, no. We must ask the wives as well. There is a good deal of gossip over the Derby cakes and tea. So what better way to spread the word about our ‘happy marriage’?”
“Gentlemen only, Anna. We must not flout convention.” Robert looked at his surroundings. “But these rented rooms are hardly suitable. And Mrs. Hawkins is hardly capable of providing good—”
“Have you not noticed how your meals have improved since my arrival?” She pointed to the crumbs and smears on her husband’s plate. “You appear to enjoy Mrs. Hawkins’s marmalade on your biscuits.” She did not tell him that the woman had made it with eight pounds of imported Seville oranges and two cones of the most expensive sugar that the grocer offered. “Indeed,” she continued, “I find that Mrs. Hawkins has a fund of recipes that you, in your bachelor state, have never required. The servants are the least of our problems.”
“What, then, is needed?”
“Your carte blanche to have the principal rooms repapered, and some comfortable chairs purchased. For the walls, when they are ready, I can furnish some sketches I have made since my arrival. Mr. Tazewell will frame them for a small outlay and provide some pleasant lithographs of his own for additional decoration. It will all cost you a modest outlay, yes, but the results will be worth it.”
Her husband stared beyond her at the peeling wallpaper and the sparsely furnished room. His lips opened and closed, as if he were doing sums in his head.
“Order whatever is necessary.”
“Leave it to me. Meanwhile, I shall get the invitations out.”
“No invitations. The gentlemen of the town make the rounds of the best houses without formality.” He consulted his pocket watch and rose. “You are right, Anna. Any expenditure that will facilitate my appointment as Chancellor will be entirely worthwhile. I confess to the desire to leave my name in history books as the first Chancellor of Upper Canada.”
“Amen to that. You shall be bound up in a book of jurisprudence. I say this from my heart.”
“Have your little joke, my dear. But I take it as a compliment.” He paused as he put on his coat and top hat. “And I must tell you that you have evidently made a favourable impression on Sam Jarvis and his good wife. They have invited us for Christmas dinner. It may be diverting, though I hope we are not subjected to all those children. At any rate—with some reservations, mind you—I accepted.”
From the front window, Anna watched Robert stride across the street on his way to the courtroom. It had been a satisfactory breakfast hour.
She turned away from the window, laughing to herself. In the space of a mere three