Two nights before they departed for St. Petersburg, Lady Gosforth held a farewell party for Nash and Maddy at her London house. “Just a small, intimate affair,” she’d told Maddy. “Quite paltry, really. A few friends, nothing more.”
When Maddy informed Nash of this, he snorted with laughter but wouldn’t explain why.
It was a wonderful night, a crowded, glittering reception, but for Maddy, the real farewell took place the next afternoon, when just the family and close friends gathered for tea.
It was an occasion of laughter and tears. Everyone brought presents.
Lady Gosforth gave gloves and warm fur-lined hats to the boys and white fur muffs and fur-lined bonnets for the girls. And for Maddy, a blue velvet cloak, fully lined with soft, luxurious fur, and a matching fur muff. “Gets cold in Russia, I’m told,” she said gruffly, twitching it into place as Maddy tried it on.
“I used to think you detested me,” Maddy admitted.
“No, my dear, I was simply testing you. And you passed with flying colors. The moment you told me to mind my own business, I knew you loved that boy of mine.”
“How could you know from that?”
“If you’d been any sort of a schemer you’d have assured me you loved him more than life itself.” Lady Gosforth smiled. “Instead you told me it was none of my business. And I knew then that it was love—new, tender, private, and precious. Too precious to be shared with a meddling, obnoxious old woman.” She blinked away a tear. “Dratted piece of dirt in my eye.”
Maddy, her own eyes misty with emotion, hugged her again. “I do love him, with all my heart. And I love you, too, Lady Gosforth. And you’re not meddling, obnoxious, or old.”
“Lady Gosforth? Lady Gosforth?” the old woman said crossly, scrubbing at her eyes with a wisp of lace. “Aunt Maude, if you please, young woman. You’re family now.”
Maddy smiled mistily. “I’ll take good care of him, I promise.”
“Pish, tush, foolish gel. It’s his job to take care of you.”
For the children, there were all sorts of things to help pass the time on the journey: knitting needles and wool, a chess set, a set of drafts, playing cards and books, none of which were of the improving sort, and blank journals, writing paper, and ink. “To write about your adventures in Russia,” Tibby told them and, glancing at Jane, added, “and any stories you might dream up, as well.”
Jane received a pair of red riding boots, John, a whip and a book about horses. Henry was delighted to receive a magnetic compass and a book of star constellations, and Susan was thrilled with a beautiful painting set and a pad of fine art paper.
“And this is for you,” Nell said to Lucy, who’d been hopping up and down in excitement, watching everyone else unwrap their presents.
Lucy unwrapped it and stared. “It’s a doll,” she said. “And she’s got red hair.” She frowned. “And she’s wearing my old blue dress.” She gave Nell an odd look, clearly not as impressed with her present as she’d hoped.
Nell smiled. “Turn her upside down.”
Bemused, Lucy turned the doll upside down and gasped as the old blue skirts fell down to reveal a head. “It’s another doll,” she exclaimed, and then, “She looks like a princess.” The doll was dressed in a sparkly white dress with blue satin bows, and she wore a glittery tiara in her elegant, red wool hair.
Suddenly Lucy’s eyes opened wide. “It’s Cinderella!” she almost shouted. “Look, here she’s Cinders, and here”—she turned the doll upside down—“she’s the princess, going to the ball!”
“Yes, but she’s not Cinderella,” Nell corrected her.
Lucy turned, quite prepared to argue her case.
“She’s Luciella,” Nell said with a smile.
“Luciella?” Lucy whispered. She turned the doll back and forward, marveling over the transformation. Then she clasped the doll tightly to her chest and turned to Nell. “Is there a prince?”
Everyone laughed.
“Not yet, darling,” Maddy told her. “You’ll have to wait a while yet for your prince.” She leaned contentedly back against hers.
Lucy nodded, content, and turned her gaze to Nash. “Isn’t there a present for Mr. Rider?”
He laughed and slipped his arm around Maddy. “I have the best present of all, Lucy—a new family.”
“And we’ve got a new family, too,” Jane said with quiet satisfaction.
Now, in the cold gray light of dawn, they stood on the deck of the ship, about to sail with the morning tide.
On the docks below, Harry and Nell waved, Torie sitting on Harry’s shoulders, one fist knotted in his hair, the other hand waving vaguely. Marcus stood aloof and grave beside Lady Gosforth, who was swathed in furs and dabbing a lace handkerchief to her eyes. Rafe, Ayisha, and Luke had come to wave them off, too, Ayisha with her little spotted cat on a leash, like a dog. Only Lizzie was absent. Maddy had said good-bye to her at Whitethorn. Nash had given Reuben the position of estate manager, and Lizzie was as proud as punch. She’d wept, though, promising to write.
Maddy stood with Nash and the children at the rail, waving, smiling, and teary-eyed. Nash slipped his arms around her. “You’re not sorry to be leaving England?”
She shook her head. “Not as long as I have you. I’ll miss everyone, of course, but we can write, and we’ll be back from time to time, won’t we? So go ahead, Nash Renfrew; waltz me away. Wherever you lead, I’ll follow.”
“To the world and beyond,” Nash told her. “A team.”
