Free Lady Madeline's Folly by Joan Smith

not the running of the country’s affairs but her own running of one particular young man.
    If Henry were there to put forward, to make shine in front of the two ministers and several other influential gentlemen, she would be well entertained. She wrested what pleasure she could from visiting old country friends; from one skating party, for the weather remained cold; and from one country assembly. But on the whole she was just plain bored.
    She was giving serious consideration to curtailing the party, to returning to the city in time for the new year. Perhaps Henry would be there. She would have a party. That she and her father already had a party planned at Highgate was not so much forgotten as ignored.
    Then she received a letter from Henry, which changed the mood of depression that was settling over her. It was brief, but contained good news. His mother had recovered—it was not so serious a cold as he feared. Might he present himself at this late date for the tail end of her party? It was a rhetorical question. He was already on his way, to arrive that same afternoon.
    How brightly the sun was suddenly shining! It gleamed an iridescent orange, gold, and green on the new-fallen snow. Her own new year’s party suddenly seemed an excellent idea after all. It would be enlarged, more youngsters invited to give it a livelier air. The old men around the fire were listened to with a keener ear, now that there was a specific purpose to understanding their chatter.
    It was on that day she acknowledged to herself that she had fallen in love at last. She was in love with Henry Aldred. She had always supposed that when love came, and she had not actually despaired of its coming, despite her allegations to the contrary, it would be some highly placed, worldly, older man who would win her. That it would be a provincial fellow younger than herself, and a good deal less versed in the doings of the world, was a fascination to her.
    It was true love then, the head-spinning, heart-lifting, oblivious-to-the-rest-of-the-world sort of a passion she had been waiting for. Henry had not yet made his mark, but with her behind him, doors would open swiftly. Money would no longer be a problem. They could live with Papa for the present, saving up her income to buy a place of their own when Lord Fordwich died and his heir took over the estates. By then Henry would be established too, making a worthwhile salary of his own. All this was settled in her mind before ever he arrived.
    She knew as soon as he came in that the absence had worked the same miracle on him. He looked at her with a brighter, more proprietary eye. His conversation was more personal, more closely verging on the lover-like.
    “How nice to see you again!” was his first speech, when she met him at the door. He seized her two hands in his cold fingers. After an awkward moment, he bent down and placed a cousinly kiss on her cheek. “There, that is for looking so beautiful,” he said with a shy smile, as though conscious that he imposed on her good humor. “Even better than I have been dreaming... remembering,” he adjusted quickly. She drew him into the hallway, still holding on to his hand, to see her Aunt Margaret coming forward.
    Her aunt was a comfortable middle-aged matron. Lady Margaret preferred the ease of country life to the bustle of the city. She had no keen interest in fashion. Her gowns were dark and simple, her hair unstyled, her figure unbound by a corset. She had achieved a roly-poly shape, and a wide, round face, whose main charm was its good-humored smile.
    “So you’re the young man I’ve been hearing so much about,” she said, running a practiced eye over him. A modish many-collared greatcoat hid his jacket, but even without a view of Weston’s work, it was clear to her that Maddie had found herself a very handsome one this season.
    Madeline made the introductions. “Your niece has been holding out on me,” Henry said. “She hasn’t told me a thing