Aubrey loved to titivate her appearance with powders and liquids. On a cold January day, she left the sole store in Regina that sold make-up, through the backdoor and veiled, lest another recognize her. For all that times were changing abroad, all was still extremely conservative on the prairies.
“Lady Kingzdon.”
A gentleman should refrain from acknowledging a lady in thought and action until she takes the initiative. But, there Richardieux stood. He was at the bonnet of a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost. His horseless carriage model was certainly one of the only ones in Saskatchewan, if not in western Canada. Aubrey could hear the voice of every mother she knew exclaim, “The automobile is the house of prostitution on wheels.” No lady entered one unaccompanied by a chaperone, the sole exception being an earthquake. The prairies did not have earthquakes, but she would think of an excuse later. She looked to either side to ensure the coast was clear.
She sat up in her seat and away from him, lest he kiss and therefore impregnate her. Like any young aristocratic female, Aubrey was left unaware of the process of procreation. Once the pair was inside the convent, Mother Augusta immediately asked for an explanation as to the whereabouts of one of her youngest charges. Mother Augusta was an aged, salt-and-pepper-haired, short, sharp as a whip “North of Scotland woman and hard to get along with.” Aubrey stood in the entryway, growing hotter. However, a lady did not remove an article of clothing in the presence of a gentleman. Richardieux excused himself for not having called earlier. In his best, if not quite broken, English, he introduced himself as her chaperone and a friend of the Kingstons from Ottawa, though he was in Regina to become a Mountie in the Royal North-West Mounted Police Force. It appeared, after more than thirty years, this man had finally unbent and was learning English. Aubrey played the fool. Richardieux never would have garnered the approval of Emmett.
Aubrey had few female companions in Regina, though she did share a room with two other young females, Christine McKercher and Hortence Gallaher. Christine was sweet and clever, with dark blond hair, green eyes, and porcelain skin. A Roman Catholic, she had the ill fortune of falling in love with a Protestant. Her parents forbade the match, given the two lovers were of opposing religious denominations. Instead, when Christine was eighteen, the McKerchers had sent her to Sacred Heart to become a nun. At times, Aubrey heard Christine crying at night over the loss of the love of her life.
In contrast, “Good men are hard to find” was the invariable reply Hortence gave when asked why she had yet to marry. Hortence was average height, with mousy brown hair that Aubrey always associated with rats and the eye colour to match. Her face was too plump, and her glasses were too large for her features. She was average in intelligence, kindness, and just about everything else in life. Her parents had sent her to Sacred Heart, too, though for the opposite reason. Hortence had lived all her nineteen years in Saskatoon, north of Regina. However, she had yet to make herself a match. Her parents hoped that a wider resource of connections would help her find a suitable marriage partner. It was not quite her plain features that caused Aubrey to think, “Beggars can’t be choosers.” Irritation always became Aubrey around Hortence, although Aubrey could not quite put her finger on the exact reason why.
At Sacred Heart, history class was in the morning. Aubrey’s final exams would be about England’s conquers across Europe and India, the triumph over Napoleon and the Spanish Armadas, as well as accomplishments on the Drake Sea. Canadian history had yet to be taught in the dominion. After dinner was religious studies. The bright spring afternoon had Mother Augusta lecture on “Forgiveness reigns supreme.”
“When you stand before The Lord, He will have those who wronged you apologize. More importantly, He will ask if you forgave those who wronged you and this — MISS AUBREY — will be the true judge of your character. Forgiveness is not about whether what the person did was right or wrong or if they should be punished.” Augusta went on.
Aubrey was not paying mind. She was looking at the pictures of Queen Victoria and the second picture of Victoria’s husband, Albert, that hung above the chalkboard. Aubrey often thought of their titanic love story. One thing Aubrey hoped for the most was to have a love affair for the ages.
Augusta continued, “In the eyes of Our Lord, spite is wrong. If you had the power to change someone for the better, through forgiveness, would you? As well, if you do not forgive your transgressor for how they treated you, they are the victor. But if you forgive your transgressor, you put them at your mercy, no matter the crime.”
After class was dismissed, Aubrey left the academy front doors. Across the courtyard and on the street, Richardieux sat astride his steed. Beside him and against the nearby tree was the infamous bicycle. The bicycle was thought to be a significant contributor to the fall of ethical behaviour among the youngest generation. Matrons and chaperones had a hard time keeping pace with the bicycle, and the newfangled invention was deemed an undeviating agent to immorality. Aubrey did not know how to ride a bicycle and would have to learn. She would also have to buy the almost equally infamous bloomers: a certain skirt designed for cycling that fell modestly at the back.
No lady should accept presents from a gentleman caller, not even her fiancé. However, Richardieux did not seem to care for her in a romantic way by any means. Edwardian couples were considered reputable if they appeared no different than any other pair in public. Physical affection beyond a handshake was heavily frowned upon, and he had always been respectful of physical boundaries. Richardieux retained the required eighteen inches of distance from her when they sat in a church pew. One did not move one’s head in church, and he never wavered from that rule either, even to look at her. A very serious man, he frequented church daily and confession weekly: not even the sisters confessed that often. He had not joined singing carols during sleigh rides down Wanuskeiwin Drive in winter. Any activity more amusing than church was not allowed on the Sabbath, but numerous times weekly he would escort her to non-existent knitting clubs, church events, and charitable fundraisers, always under the false pretence of “Mr. Kingston’s orders.” Females were raised to volunteer in all ways for the greater good of their Empire, so the plausible lies were believed by the sisters who thought it ever thoughtful of Richardieux to escort her, given so many young ladies were led astray by the decline of the chaperone. He routinely took Aubrey to picture shows, but spoke to no one, and to card games, though he did not play himself. At forbidden tango teas (Gran had almost fainted the first time she saw the polka), he sat and watched and did not converse with anyone.
While they went down the street, Aubrey proved rather fair at riding a bicycle. The lecture on forgiveness was related by Aubrey.
Richardieux concurred, “The old bird iz right. If you want to get back at someone, give them eh taste of der own medicine. But, if you want eh person to understand you, attack ze conscience. Your conscience might not prevent you from doing zomething, but it will prevent you from getting ehway with it.”
“In class, Mother Augusta said that remorse is the worst form of all punishment. That the very definition of Hell is knowing what you did was wrong, but you cannot receive forgiveness and are made to live with that all-consuming remorse for eternity.”
“And be careful with ‘om you associate, Lady Kingzdon. Denial ‘as the power to quite simply end your life. Ladiez are ze only creatures on earth who will sense danger and carry on. In fairness, you ‘ave been conditioned, as females, to be zis way, but you must be aware of zis.”
“How can one even know if one is in danger?”
“When something bad happenz, the first thing that went wrong iz that you did not lizten to your intuition. What you feel iz intuition. What you think iz merely logic. Regarding dangerous others, ze first thing you will not like about ze person is ‘is voice. The devil soundz harsh. Intuition, however, iz unmistakable, always right, and the ‘oly Spirit sounds far more beautiful than your intuition. Above all, always ‘eed your intuition.”
A few of the only friends Aubrey had in Regina were the mettlesome Agnew cousins. Briarch and Rupert were just older than her and born only months apart. Their mannerisms were exactly like the other from so much time spent together. They stood at almost the same height, had deep set shoulders, dark auburn hair, and merry grey and hazel eyes, respectively. The two could nearly pass for twins. The difference in their brogues set them apart. They moved from Ireland with their families when they were young. Their fathers had adjoining farms near Moose Jaw. The perpetually cheery Briarch and Rupert always had everyone in stitches, except their parents, who found them so very vexing.
Briarch said, “After our last ruse on the farms, father said we should be locked up!”
Rupert added, “Pa wanted for Kingston Military College. But Ma—”
Briarch continued, “—Nor mother would hear of us being so far away. So, we were shipped off to Depot,” the pair laughed while they told Aubrey why they were sent to Regina one cool spring day.
Richardieux could not be in Regina to find a wife because Mounties were not allowed to marry until they had served a minimum of five years on the force. Others found it rather odd. What was a gentleman from such an aristocratic family doing in the role of a Mountie? Mounties did not earn an aristocratic living. Richardieux was at first thought of as simply the strong and silent type, another “Forbidden Mountie,” by ladies in the city. But Regina was happy to have a French Canadian join the Force, since there were so few. However, after a paltry short time, Richardieux showed to be recalcitrant towards authority and the least fit to be a Mountie. He quickly became a renegade, Regina’s bête noir. How he passed the “morally upright” part of the examination before being accepted into the academy was beyond any matron. Before long, scrolls were passed throughout Regina to see him hanged, or at the very least, dismissed from Depot. Ahead of the trial, he was counted little above murderer. Maybe they will hang him. Then grandfather would never know about the tango teas or any of the other things I have done here that a lady should not, Aubrey thought. Aubrey knew not all offenses stacked against his character, numerous though they were. Not only was he not hanged, Richardieux was exonerated of all charges rightly laid against him. However, not a thing could dampen her spirits. She was shortly to return to Ottawa to stay, given her schooling had finished.
The Royal North-West Mounted Police Ball took place on a clear and charming June evening. Aubrey and Richardieux began waltzing in a sea of scarlet serges and elaborate ball gowns. For some time, Aubrey and her strong lead danced in silence. Richardieux looked positively dashing in his serge.
Because he arrived at the eleventh hour, to the point where she worried he would not come at all, she mocked him, “And where, pray tell, were you? Let me venture a wild guess: at the office?”
Richardieux answered, “Yes, I was working. Why iz that so funny, Mizz Aubrey? What iz more important to eh man than ‘is work and what he ‘as to show for ‘imself as eh result of ‘is work?”
“Love, family, or the pleasures of life are not more important than earning a living? Love is life, and if you miss love you miss life.”
He asked, “To be clear, ’ow can eh man enjoy such thingz without first ‘aving the means to acquire them? Zis is why work should be number one in eh man’z life, except, of course, eh man’z religion.”
“Though one is never entirely certain when the dance will end, and I do not mean waltzing, Mr. Richardieux. Priorities must be in place in the meantime, or so they say. Anyhow, am I correct to presume you were not playing hockey?”
He replied with barely suppressed sarcasm, “If you will agree with me, when you stop acting like eh lady and like one of those suffragettez, I will join eh ‘ockey team.”
He always did make her laugh. “If that will make you see things clearly.”
“May I ‘ave the word of her Ladyship?”
“I always get my man,” Aubrey teased one of the Mounted Force’s most famous, though unofficial, mottos in entering into the agreement with Richardieux. “Why did you come tonight? Was it for a lady?”
There was a pause from her partner. “I am only interested in women, not ladiez. There iz eh difference, to be sure. That term, ‘lady,’ meanz different things to different people. The term ‘lady,’ by conventional standardz, is what females are supposed to azpire to. But, the terms ‘lady,’ ‘woman,’ and ‘man’ for that matter, are all earned and dezerved.
She added, “And the difference between a lady and a suffragette is a lady does not fight and gentlemen respect her because of that.”
“And what of Mrs. Nellie McClung? Publicly laughed at and mocked by memberz of Parliament for wanting ze vote. Will she not be remembered in ‘istory? Iz that not rezpect worthy? Or those four other suffragettez. Ze five of them are becoming quite famous, no?”
Aubrey answered indifferently, “Well, if you ask me, it doesn’t make one button of difference if those suffragettes are extended the vote or if they’re not.”
“The government and general populace argue that eh wife might openly defy ‘er husband.”
The Dominion Elections Act decried, “No woman, idiot, lunatic or criminal shall vote.”
“‘owever, you ‘ave reason and are perfectly correct. Ladies take fright easily, whereaz women do not take fright. They alzo fight. They act like themselves — not what society tells them to be — and they are not ehfraid to do so. Most ladiez do not realize zis, but zis is ‘ow you truly garner eh man’z respect. And males ‘o think otherwise, you do not want that sort of respect any’ow.”
Aubrey wanted to know why he had come to the ball in the first place and asked, “You mean to say you did not leave work early to come here?”
For once, Richardieux lost all pretences. This time, however, his tone changed to that of impossibility as he replied, “Ma chere (my dear), the day I leave ze office early you will know I care more for eh woman than anything elze in my entire life.”