They were barely out of sight of the barn when Lady Maclean launched into her recriminations. “How can you throw yourself away on adoctor? 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 adoctorfor 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.”
“Iwantedyou 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 setaside. 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 upsettingyourself,” 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 tighteningwith determination, even as she wondered—Shedidn’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 andyouare 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 perfectlyfine.”
“Oh please,” Lady Maclean said. “If you were fine, you would want a husband and a family—”
“I’m trying to keepthisfamily 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?
