Madison Cleary

’I really cannot imagine the nerve of that girl, she kills her husband then flaunts herself in the streets the way she does. It truly is appalling,’ Maggie whispered to her husband. They were standing at the window of their shop. It was no surprise to John, his wife had the same statement every time Madison Cleary came into town. She was the unfortunate widow of Mr. Cleary, a man all of London knew prided in less than discreet affairs. He was supposedly to knighted by his Majesty and serve in the royal palace. Many said he died from a drunken stupor but like Maggie, a great number of the town believed, she, Madison had found out he was keeping a mistress or two and pushed him down the stairs when he was intoxicated.

The servants on hand that night had sent word she had stood at the top of the stairs for a long while not crying, just staring at him. She hadn’t mourned in the least bit, not a stitch of black fabric she owned. All she did was seal away his clothes. Her husband’s father had kept the house for her, he paid all the dues necessary so she could continue to live the lifestyle she was living but he was ailing and so Madison had taken to employment from those who would hire her.

She was known for her medicinal skills. She had healed one of the King’s bastard children and he forever sang her praises in the courts. It was said that was the reason her late husband was to be considered for Knightdom.

Maggie kept her face pasted against the glass and watched as Madison entered the bakery across the street. She pulled open the door and stood aside as Mrs. Harriden, the towns other widow, though her fall to that position was more gracious and did no harm to her reputation, if anything it only made her more appealing to the male population. Her husband had died in the hands of a mistress. It was quite the talk of the town, many pitied her and being young and still very agreeable and marriageable men stalked to her door promising faithfulness and love. She of course already scalded by the words of a man was not interested in being tortured by the male species anymore.

She smiled to Madison, from one widow to another. But that was all it ever was, an acknowledgment that they shared the same pain and it never went any further. Madison nodded her head slightly before watching her Ms. Harriden enter her carriage. She had wished for a life like the one Amanda was living but she knew she never really would be happy. She was a simple woman from a simple home and she had married a simple man. It was a surprise to her when they had received word her husband was to be Knighted. All she did was heal a child. Her mother had done it so many times. It was true what they said, the King’s gratitude ran deep.

She walked into the empty bakery and scanned over the bread and cakes available. There was not much in choice so she settled for the browner looking bread. She picked it off the shelf and walked to the counter. The old man sitting behind it had the same look all of London had when they saw her, it was a sneer and disapproval. She knew she was not welcome there. She removed a few coins from her reticule and put them on the counter when the door opened.

Madison did not have to turn around to know who had just entered, her scent could stale the bread where it was placed. Never had she known a woman to use so much scent or rose to enhance a beauty that was fading. She was followed in by two other ladies, her pawns, Sarah and Marigold, her ducklings. They went everywhere she went and tormented as much as she did. She heard the woman snicker and clear her throat before saying, ‘It seems this bakery is not clean enough ladies,’ this earned a laugh from her ducklings.

Madison rolled her eyes and added another coin on the counter before thanking the man silently and exiting the shop. She walked past Millicent and her ducklings, who studiously moved out of her way, careful not to get touched by the accursed woman.

Madison was glad she had escaped this society, she had always preferred a simple living a simple life and with her late husband it had been that simple, for a time. London had said she hadn’t mourned, but she had. She had mourned Baron’s death long before he fell down the flight of stairs. He had been dead a very, very long time, it was only his body that needed to follow.

She was thankful to be on her way home, she hated coming into town because of all the stares and whispers, she had no care for them but sometimes the words that came from their mouths only reminded her of what she did not have and what she had missed for most of her life.

There was a carriage waiting for her, Baron’s carriage, She hated it, but being the widow to a man who received favor from the King decorum dictated she must at all times travel in a carriage bearing her relevance. She climbed in and let out a breath, finally silence. Patty would be glad she was on her way back. Her dog hated being left alone for long periods of time but she could not very well walk into a bakery with a dog, it would cause even more of an uproar than her murdering her own husband. As her carriage started trudging towards the outskirts of the town, there was the sound of horse’s feet running hard against the ground and then a loud bang and before she knew it, she and her protection were falling sideways towards the ground. The carriage landed with a thump, then there was some yelling from outside it, before the door facing the sky was flung open only to fall back shut with a slam.

There was the sound of cursing before it opened again and this time it stayed open. The face looking down on her knocked whatever air she had left in her away. The way his dark hair fell about his face and his hazel eyes, almost clearer than honey, were trying to focus on her and his arm, that muscle that stood out quite clearly holding onto the side of the carriage for support. Madison scolded herself, she knew she had stopped feeling any kind of attraction to the opposite sex. She found them revolting and far too immature. But not now, now she was in a daze, it must the bump she suffered she said to herself, she was not in her right mind.

She heard another voice but it was quite a distance away she couldn’t make out what it was saying. She closed her eyes for a moment, when she opened them the stranger was now lowering himself into the carriage and trying to wrap his arm around her to lift her out. Madison was not sure whether she appreciated the fact that he did not ask her if he could place his hands upon her persons. He wrapped his left hand around her waist and used his right hand as support to pull her out of the carriage. When he was confident he had a firm grip on her, he released his right hand and adjusted her weight around on his left hand before calling out to someone. Another face appeared at the door of the carriage, similar to his but the eyes were different, this one had green eyes and more of a smiling face. They must be brothers. That was the last thing Madison saw before her eyes fell shut.

’James come now, you cheat far too often in these games.’

‘You say that only because you can never win,’ James, Duke of Abercom replied to his brother Charles. They were staying in London before they found comfortable accommodation in the countryside and retire there like most Englishmen. His great, great grandfather, the first Duke of Abercom James Hamilton II was bestowed upon this title for his allegiance with the King of England. Before that he was a lowly unnoticed man in the military from Scotland. A great deed he did to the King during their wars and his loyalty to the flag of England earned him a title. James had heard his father talk his great grandfather to the point of boredom. He had impressed upon him the need to impress this post on his deathbed for it did not come cheap or easy and just as easily as it was given it could be taken away.

They were not royal born and so had to ensure their family line remained titled. His father had served well from across the fence as his mother would call it. He had been warned he had to marry an English woman so there was reason to keep the title. James had never seen the need, whether or not he was titled he was a hard worker and he would be able to support himself and whatever family he was to have. His brother Charles, however, had gotten used to the lifestyle they currently had and should they fall from grace, James was sure he would die of starvation.

He tried to teach Charles some business principles but the boy was more interested in chasing skirts and causing all sorts of trouble. They had been in London no longer than two months and Charles had already entertained numerous ladies. Now James was not one to deny beauty when he saw it but he also knew vanity. He had once been attached to a woman so vain she leaked vinegar. He never knew why people always said Scottish women were soft and pleasurable. He knew not one woman with either one of those qualities.

There was soft knock and in came their mother. That was one other thing James loved beyond human imagination. His mother had been his support when his father had passed and did all she could to prepare him for the responsibilities he had waiting ahead. She was his father’s right hand man, or woman in this case. It was a wonder to how efficient he run his businesses and conducted himself, but James knew it was his mother. She was the rock of their household. He prayed everyday he would find a woman like his mother in his life.

He thought back to the woman he had rescued from the carriage earlier and cursed himself for the grand mistake he had made of letting Charles take the reins of the horses. He was a bad a rider as he was at cards.

‘I see you boys are playing cards again? What is the wager this time round?’ Justina asked.

‘Just that pin James always wears on his tailcoats mother, nothing too grand,’ Charles’ eyes landed on the pin on his brothers tailcoat draped over the side arm of the chair.

‘You both know that is how your grandfather started a gambling habit. Playing with his brother, then, he almost ran us all into debt.’

‘We shall not be gamblers mother, you needn’t worry,’ Charles said in his most formal accent. Despite the fact they were of Scottish descent their father had made sure they attended school in London and had the proper English tongue. He too had tried to fit in but failed gravely, his age and lifestyle was too far gone to let him learn anything new. Their mother cared not for what she sounded like and only removed all the short words she used and instead used longer ones. Now they were in London she knew she would have to host many of those balls and have to entertain a large number of people who would need to understand what she was saying.

‘I shan’t, you on the other hand are obsessed with winning. You put a wager the other night on which one of us would catch the attention that woman.’

‘It was a simple task James and you call it a wager because you know you would lose.’

James looked at his cards and placed them on the table, ‘I, my dear brother, never lose.’

Charles stared with his mouth open at the cards, ’you cheat, mother you have a cheat for a son.

The Duchess watched her sons, they were as precious as the day and yet so very different. James was more relaxed and composed whereas Charles was vibrant and at times obnoxious but they were similar in strength and passion for family and she appreciated it. Not like her late husband’s brother who had tried to do everything he could to be the one called Duke. He was now rotting away in a prison for being a traitor to the crown , that was a secret she and only she knew. If it ever found the light of day it would destroy the image they had worked so very hard to build.

‘How is the lady you both ran over?’ she asked as she placed herself on the seatee in the study. ‘Yes James I may be old but I do still have quite agreeable hearing.’

‘She is fine, no real damage was done.’

‘Yes,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘but what circumstance brought about her carriage falling over in the first place?’ she directed her eyes at Charles.

He sighed. Their mother never asked questions she did not have the answers to. ‘It was an accident mother, I had not held on as tight as James had instructed.’

She turned her eyes to James who already knew what was coming.

‘Yes mother I know, we do not teach lessons when on the road, we wait until we are in the country and can do as we please,’ his mother nodded her head. She was glad he learned to scold himself with her words, it meant he knew what he was doing wrong and he would take steps to correct it.

‘Does the woman know who nearly killed her?’

‘Mother,’ James rolled his eyes, ‘she was merely scratched.’

‘Yes, but you are now a Duke, any compensation will do, without her having to ask. Imagine the scandal she would cause if you did not offer her anything. The very thing your father was afraid of would most certainly happen.’

James stood from his chair. It was late, past supper, and all he had wanted to do was spend some time with his brother to make sure he had not gone astray being out on his own for most of the day and now here he was answering to his mother. ’I shan’t leave her destitute mother. At first light I shall go to inquire about her well being. Justina smiled. Just like she had raised him. She turned her attention to Charles, ‘and what have you to say on the matter?’

‘The lady we ran over is a widow, they say she killed her husband, pushed him down the stairs she did, no heart. No heart at all. She didn’t even mourn. She was seen about town the very afternoon of his funeral,’ he repeated as he had been informed by one of his conquests.

Justina eyed her son, ‘I was not enquiring on her life state Charles, I wanted to know what you would do for her, you are the one who ran her over,’ she said more of a statement than a question.

James collected the cards and looked at his brother. ‘Charles will ensure she returns safely to wherever it is she came from, if she is not from London.’

‘Where is she now?’ Justina asked still keeping her eyes on Charles.

‘At the physician’s mother. She will take her leave come sunrise if she is feeling well enough.’

‘I insist yours be the first face she sees James, I would not want our dear Charles to cause any further damage to her persons. He has proven to be a hazard,’ she raised herself and straightened her sapphire gown,

‘How is the ward shopping coming along?’ James sighed

‘Your requirements are far too grand, mother.’

’Yes, as is my title, she patted Charles on the shoulder, ‘good night boys, remember to say your prayers,’ with that she left the room.

Charles took to his normal grumbling as James cleared the table and laid the cards back in his desk drawer, his eyes landing on the envelope he was instructed to open on the day he turned thirty and one. It was odd his father would leave a note to be opened on such a specific date. He was a few months away from discovering a family truth that was promised to be kept hidden. He closed the drawer and turned to Charles. He had replaced his mother on the seatee, ‘Charles you are a grown man of twenty and five, you cannot afford to be having these female tantrums when your mother scolds you.’

‘Mother should not be scolding me if I truly am twenty and five.’

‘You nearly had a hand in a woman’s death, you deserved more than a scolding, count yourself chanced. Go to bed brother. Tomorrow we shall be at the physicians at first light.’ Charles sulked and left the study, a candle in hand. James lifted his eyes upwards and said a silent prayer. When he finally did take a wife, he would make sure Charles was far, far away.