Eventually, she returned to her room, asking a passing footman to send up some brandy. When it arrived, however, itwas a stout middle-aged woman who brought a decanter and glass on a silver tray, which her shaking hands seemed in danger of dropping.
“Where is the footman?” Izzy said sharply. “Careful with that! Put it down here.”
“Men ent allowed in t’ladies’ chambers,” the maid said, setting the tray down with a thump that almost knocked the glass over. “Ee, now, what’s that mess there?”
“My clothes,” Izzy said, with an indifferent lift of one shoulder.
“Who put ’em there? Lord, they’s reet messy! Look at that!” She held up a badly creased silk evening gown. “Pity, a reet pretty thing like that.”
“I put them there,” Izzy said impatiently. “What does it matter? I was in a temper, so I threw them on the floor.”
“Well, now,” the woman said, resting her hands on her hips in a manner that reminded Izzy forcefully of her nurse of many years ago. “Anyone’d think tha’s a bairn not a grown woman, behavin’ like that! Maggie spent hours pressin’ them dresses and now it’s all to do again.”
“That is what she is paid to do.”
“Not twice! That’s just makin’ work, that is. Ent no one ever tell thee to behave yersel, lass?”
“I will not be lectured by aservant!Get out! Go on, get out, now!”
Izzy was not so angry as to risk any harm to the brandy decanter or glass, but those pretty little figurines… they would smash beautifully, would they not?
They did… oh yes, they did. Izzy screamed as she hurled the first, neatly missing the maid’s head by about three inches as she ran to escape, and landing in the corridor outside, just before the maid slammed the door shut. The second landed plumb on thecentre of the door, with a splendid crashing sound followed by a cascade of tinkling shards of porcelain.
Izzy laughed and poured herself a brandy. There was nothing like breaking things for relieving whatever frustration was building inside her.
And yet… it was not the same without Ian there to watch over her, waiting until the storm had blown over to hold her tight and murmur, “Better now?” into her ear. Dear Ian! Always so tolerant. What would have happened if he had not been tolerant, if he had told her not to be so childish? Or, as the maid had put it,‘Anyone’d think tha’s a bairn not a grown woman. Ent no one ever tell thee to behave yersel, lass?’No, no one had ever told her to behave herself. Not her parents, and not her husband. Only Josie had rolled her eyes sometimes and murmured, “Really, Izzy! Was that necessary?”
She looked guiltily at the shards of the figurine scattered over the floor. That had not been necessary. Perhaps it had been a precious heirloom, or a much-loved gift from a favourite aunt, and now it was gone, and all for what? A moment’s relief from frustration.
Not long afterwards, she heard sounds of sweeping outside the door, followed by muttered voices, one male, one female. After a while, silence fell. No one was brave enough, it seemed, to try to enter the room to sweep up inside.
Sophie came up a little while later, carrying a dustpan and brush, and a bucket. “Well,” she said, surveying the devastation. “The butler was right, there has been a breakage. Does it help, throwing things around?”
“It does. It is very satisfying to break things,” Izzy said defiantly.
“Those figurines were so pretty, too. I hope they were not valuable.”
“They are onlythings, Sophie,” Izzy said. But then guilt made her add, “I hope no one was fond of them.” Sophie gave her a quizzical glance, and Izzy chuckled. “Are you going to lecture me to behave? The maid ticked me off in no uncertain terms.‘Anyone’d think tha’s a bairn not a grown woman.’”
“Good heavens, did she say that?”
“She did. Itischildish of me, but I must have some way to release my rages. How do you deal with it when you get angry, Sophie?”
“I go for a long, very brisk walk until I have calmed down.”
“I do that, too, but sometimes… that is not enough.”
“Have you always had these… outbursts?”
“It started when I was quite small — seven, eight maybe. Papa refused to let me ride one day, and for no good reason that I could see. I had a new pony and I was wild to try her out. There was a line of snuff boxes on a shelf, and I just swept them to the floor. Then a glass vase filled with dried flowers. Poor man, he was horrified, and immediately gave way. He even rode with me. So every time I wanted something, I knew how to get it, and it felt so good, Sophie! So easy and no one punished me for it, as they probably should have done.”
“I do not remember such a thing when we were in town together five years ago.”
“Oh no, not then! That spring was perfect, nothing happened to make me angry at all. But then I married Ian, and… there are times now that are not perfect. Not Ian’s fault, but there it is. Sometimes I feel as if I am about to explode, but then I break a few things and I feel much better. It clears the air in my head like a summer thunderstorm. I wish I liked brandy more. It would be less destructive if I could simply drink myself into a stupor. A man can drink his temper away, but nothing is more disagreeable than a drunken woman. But I suppose I should find some other way. Ian is wonderfully forbearing, but not everyoneis.” Then, as Sophie knelt down and began sweeping, she added, “Leave that for the girl to do tomorrow.”
“Suppose there was a fire in the night,” Sophie said, sweeping steadily. “We might have to leave this room in our bare feet, and think of all these tiny shards we should walk over in the dark.”
Izzy laughed again. The last of her anger had seeped away, and the brandy was warming her inside, so she merely shook her head indulgently. “That is exactly the sort of thing Ian would say. He is sensible like you, Sophie.”
