Maude scowled at her day calendar with the air of one fully intending to kill the object of their intentions. It was 27th of the month already? Lord, help her. She'd intended to be back in Georgia by now, but no. She was on a train, almost to Georgia, but not quite. She wouldn't actually get to the Mercer's plantation until tomorrow.
She was going to miss her darling boy's birthday. She jammed the calendar back into her bag with a solid thumping noise.
It had been a difficult task to escape from the clutches of Mr. Calvin. She had finally managed to turn a servant or two to her side and had made her escape in the dark of night. She'd stolen some of his money- heck, he'd already accused her of far worse to get her to marry him; and the skunk deserved it anyway, as far as she was concerned- and, wearing a high necked dress to hide her most recent bruise from his heavy hand, she bought tickets home and sailed across the ocean once more. She traveled across country by train and carriage, alternating, and here she was, seven hours from Georgia, nine from the plantation.
She knew Ezra would react badly to her in person, trying to decide what she was doing exactly, trying to see what she valued him as exactly, if as anything at all. She was going to make sure she didn't give any hint as to how she valued him or loved him.
It was the only way he'd ever learn, she scolded that niggling little voice she hated so.
Just as she'd thought, her carriage pulled up outside the main house of the plantation very early the next morning, on the 28th. She knew Mrs. Mercer would be up, and a knock on the door brought the woman herself hustling over from her morning tea, greeting Maude in surprise and delight.
Maude went up to Ezra's room, finding her son predictably still asleep. She leaned down to adjust the blankets, and smiled when a pair of sleepy green eyes blinked at her. "Mother?"
"Yes, dear. I came as quick as I could but I didn't quite make it. I am sorry love, but we can celebrate today, if you like." She gave him a kiss, not giving him time to respond. "Go back to sleep, Ezra."
He blinked at her a couple more times, but finally nodded slightly and closed his eyes.
Maude sat down in a chair on the other side of the bed and leaned back with a huge sigh. Her son was ten years old. And she'd missed it.
For the first time, she really questioned her lifestyle, the lifestyle she provided for Ezra- but she quickly dismissed that. She'd begun this way, and she'd carry on this way. End of conversation, as far as she was concerned. There was no turning back, not admitting to being wrong, now.
She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, to wait for Ezra to decide how to react to her when he was actually awake. He would set the pace- animosity, or doting mother? She would play whichever part he prompted.