The Gilded Cage - Taking my Place

Mixed Blessings

My last day of maidenhood was intended to be relaxed and restful, for everyone. Grandmama had worn herself to a frazzle organising everything and everyone, and after the final rehearsal at the church, where we heard my sisters sing and Pastor John took Steven and I through the service, Miss Knight took Mama, Nicola and I for coffee. She had sent Grandmama home with everyone else, with orders to rest, although she admitted that Catriona would ignore her, but she wanted me to take things easy. I was just nervous, I suppose. Not scared, but aware that the whole day would revolve around me, which I had never enjoyed, and determined that I would do my adoptive family proud, for once. I was in a reflective mood, as we settled around a table outside, and suggested that I had caused a lot of trouble over the past two years.

"I think I did that...you just got caught up in my mess, Hermione?" Nicola suggested, before lifting her cup delicately to her lips. Both of us were wearing gowns of blue pinstripes, one of our favourite outfits for our last day of dressing alike. "Considering you were a heathen; I think you've done pretty well?"

"One mistake does not amount to causing trouble, darling...and Hermione, your maidenhood has been quite a journey, but Nicola is right...you had to change so much?" Mama replied with a loving smile for both of us. "There is no precedent for a convert coming straight into the First Congregation...and you know very well that many maidens return to their nurseries once or twice, whilst they grow up a little?"

"Did Grandmama have a smooth maidenhood, Miss Knight?" I asked, because we had never really talked about Catriona's formative years. Miss Knight often made little comments, but I had never found the courage to ask any more.

"Smooth would not be the word I would choose to describe it," Miss Knight replied, looking inscrutable. We all looked at her expectantly, including Mama, and she sighed dramatically as if she was being interrogated. "She was never returned to the nursery...although it was certainly suggested and often threatened...getting that girl to hold her tongue and moderate her opinions was an absolute nightmare!"

"How often did you paddle her?" Mama enquired, sparing us from daring to ask, joining in with the fun.

"She was such a stubborn little thing...so, many times...and I will confide, in confidence of course, that once I beat the indignation and anger out of her, she used to scream the house down and cry rivers!" Miss Knight said, allowing herself a smile at the memory. "She never suffered fools gladly, regardless of their age or standing in the community...and whilst I could make her regret her behaviour, she never once apologised for her crimes. She would deign to say sorry to me, but she would never say sorry about whatever she had done, because she was not sorry and she would never lie...and her tongue was like a whip, even at eighteen!"

"But you have stayed with her all these years?" I commented, resting my hand on her arm.

"Yes...one would get a much lesser sentence for murder...but I love Catriona and all of you girls like a mother...and tomorrow will be one of the proudest days of my life."

"Oh, Miss Knight..."

"And mine," Mama added, resting her hand on mine.

"And I'll finally have my own room!" Nicola said, making the rest of us giggle. But then, as my love for my family swelled inside of me, Mrs Deacon appeared on the café terrace, flanked by both my mother and Sheila Radcliffe, both of whom were under discipline. No one had seen Mrs Deacon or the other traditionalists since the election, partly because Deepdene had broken up for the summer. But they had not been at church, either. The rumour was that Mr Ellesmere was hosting Sunday services in his private chapel, with a retired Pastor presiding.

"Good afternoon, Edwina...how nice to see you?" Miss Knight called out brightly, giving Mrs Deacon little choice about coming over, as most of the other tables were taken. "Do please join us...my treat?"