The Matchmaker's Marriage

by Meg Alexander

  ‘You are right, but legend has it that they were allowed to leave in safety after the surrender. The officers kept their weapons and the men escaped unharmed.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it, but, James, ain’t it time that we stopped to eat? Blest if my stomach ain’t stuck to my backbone… May we not try the local inn today?’

  ‘If you do so, you will offend the Earl,’ James said quietly. ‘He prides himself upon his hospitality, and here he comes.’

  Laverstoke’s warm invitation to enjoy a light nuncheon was welcomed by the entire party. That enthusiasm was lessened, at least upon Amy’s part, by the realisation that the Countess had returned from Bath and was awaiting them in the salon.

  The Countess was not in the happiest of moods. Her expedition into Bath had not produced the desired result. She had learned only that Miss Amy Wentworth’s position in society was unassailable, whilst her snide comments upon Miss Skelmersdale’s background had gone unremarked. Another scandal was setting the gossips by the ears.

  Lady Waring had been unwise enough to confess to her husband that her latest child was not his own. She had at once been locked in her own apartments, denied access to her children, and informed that she would be examined by certain doctors who would determine the exact nature of her madness.

  It was all too enthralling, and the Countess was unable to resist the temptation to relate the story.

  ‘She will be confined in an institution for the rest of her days,’ she concluded with satisfaction.

  ‘Why? Has not the Earl a dozen bastards of his own?’ Amy was incensed by this injustice.

  The Countess gave a cry of outraged modesty. ‘Miss Wentworth, please! What has that to say to anything?’

  ‘Quite a lot, in my opinion. Is Lord Waring to be deemed a madman because of his own indiscretions?’

  ‘Of course not! I fear that you do not understand—’

  ‘I think I do. Apparently there is one law for Lady Waring and quite another for her husband, simply because he is a man.’

  ‘Naturally!’ The Countess smirked at her. ‘That is the way of the world.’

  ‘It is monstrous!’ Amy’s cheeks were pink with indignation. She might have said more, but Charlotte tugged at her sleeve.

  ‘Pray don’t distress yourself,’ she pleaded. ‘Surely the child’s father will come to the aid of Lady Waring—?’

  A shriek of horror greeted her words. ‘What are you saying, Miss Skelmersdale? Do pray mind your tongue, I beg of you! The gentleman moves in the very highest circles. His name may not be mentioned in connection with this case.’

  ‘So her ladyship is to be abandoned to her fate? I do not regard that as the conduct of a gentleman, no matter who he may be.’

  The Countess gave Amy a patronising smile. ‘Well, well, we women of the world do not expect young girls to understand these matters…’ She looked up as her husband came towards her. ‘I have been explaining to our young friends here that gossip about the unfortunate Lady Waring is quite unsuitable for their ears.’

  Amy could have struck her. It was the Countess herself who had introduced the subject in the absence of the gentlemen. Now she was trying to give the impression that Amy and Charlotte had been pressing her for the unsavoury details.

  ‘Amy would agree with you,’ James said mildly. ‘She has a positive horror of gossip. Is that not so, my dear?’

  Amy gave him a grateful look. ‘It is. It is often both hurtful and malicious. Charlotte agrees with me. Gossip loses nothing in the telling and sometimes bears no relation to the facts.’

  The Countess seemed to have been affected by a sudden attack of deafness. Ignoring Amy, she turned to her husband.

  ‘I did as you wished, my love,’ she murmured plaintively. ‘I tried the waters in the Pump Room, but, alas, I found them much too strong for my constitution. They made me feel quite ill.’

  The Earl took her hand in his. ‘I understand,’ he soothed. ‘My dearest, won’t you try a little food? You eat barely enough to keep a bird alive. This notion of eating nothing in the middle of the day cannot be good for you, though I know that you have no wish to expand.’

  The look she gave him was vitriolic, but it was fleeting.

  ‘La, my dear, you quite mistake the matter. I do not fear to eat, though there are others who may need to do so.’ Her glance rested briefly on both Amy and Charlotte.

  It was enough to restore Amy’s good humour. The Countess’s open spite was so blatant that it made her want to laugh, especially as she and Charlotte were so slender. She turned to her friend.

  ‘Pay attention, Charlotte!’ she insisted. ‘The Countess is an expert upon this subject.’

  Her statement was equivocal, but James understood her perfectly.

  ‘No open warfare, Amy!’ he warned. ‘You will not wish to upset the Earl.’ His voice was low, and inaudible to the others.

  Amy had been sorely tried, but she was contrite at once.

  ‘No, of course not!’ she said quickly. ‘Oh, James, I wish I were more like Charlotte. She feels just as strongly, but she manages to hold her tongue.’

  James gave her a heart-stopping smile. ‘Charlotte is changing. Had you not noticed? She will speak out when she feels strongly. It is a pleasant thing to see.’

  As always, Amy felt comforted by his words. She allowed him to lead her into the dining-room, much relieved by the absence of the Countess. Not all her husband’s entreaties had persuaded that lady to join them at their nuncheon.

  Much encouraged by the hearty appetites of his employer’s guests, the chef had outdone himself that day, preparing one of his own specialties in addition to the usual selection of cold meats, pies and pasties.

  The Earl nodded his approval as the dish was carried in with some ceremony. He turned to Amy.

  ‘Now, Miss Wentworth, I shall be glad of your opinion. Your aunt, I know, is said to provide the best food to be found in Bath. What would she say to this particular way of cooking salmon?’

  Amy allowed herself to be served with a generous helping of the fish, which had been baked in the oven in a light and flaky pastry case.

  ‘It is delicious, my lord! I believe she would warn her cook that he must look to his laurels. I shall try to remember the ingredients. I detect ginger and raisins in a butter sauce, but is there not something else?’

  Laverstock gave her a solemn look. ‘Chef guards his secrets jealously. I shall tell you only that there is a flavouring of mace. I dare not say more, unless I wish to lose him…’

  Amy laughed. ‘Then I shall not press you, sir. It is kind indeed of you to offer us your hospitality in this way.’

  He bowed. ‘It is a pleasure, ma’am. I can think of nothing more delightful than to see my friends at my table. I regret only that my dear wife felt unable to join us, but she is not strong, you know. A morning spent in Bath quite oversets her for the day. Doubtless she has retired for her afternoon rest.’

  He was mistaken. When the party returned to the salon the Countess was reclining upon a chaise longue. Standing before her and looking extremely nervous were the two black pages. The splendour of their clothing could not disguise the fact that both were shaking uncontrollably.

  Laverstoke interrupted a shrill tirade of abuse. He gave his wife a worried look.

  ‘My dear one, has something happened to distress you?’ he asked in an anxious tone. ‘Do you tell me that the boys have been behaving badly?’

  ‘Of course they have!’ Her reply was pettish. ‘They are little better than idiots! Neither seems to understand a word I say!’

  ‘Perhaps they don’t speak English,’ Amy offered helpfully.

  The Countess stared at her. ‘Of course they don’t, but what has that to say to anything? Cassius has been with us for a week, but he has not above a dozen words. As for Prospero—’

  ‘Prospero…?’ Sir William intervened. ‘You are an admirer of Shakespeare’s plays, my lady?’

  As an attempt to divert the Countess
’s wrath, this statement was unsuccessful. She gave him a baffled look.

  ‘Shakespeare? I do not know that person. I heard the name Prospero mentioned somewhere, though I cannot quite recall…’

  ‘Don’t let it worry you, my love. You have chosen well. The name will please your sister.’

  ‘Possibly!’ came the tart reply. ‘What will not please her is the child’s stupidity. If he does not improve de Vionnet must replace him. I have repeated my commands over and over again, and all to no effect.’

  ‘Perhaps if you raised your voice?’ Amy’s expression was bland.

  James gave her a warning look, but his lips were twitching. During the past week he had entertained Amy with stories of his travels in the East. She had relished so many of the comic aspects of his tales, which included the belief held by many of his fellow countrymen that if one shouted loud enough even the most benighted native could not fail to understand the English language.

  The allusion was lost upon the Countess, although she suspected that Amy was making game of her. Without taking her eyes from Amy’s face, she beckoned Cassius to her. Then, with great deliberation she took the child by the lob of his ear, sinking her long nails into the soft flesh.

  As an act of deliberate cruelty it was astonishing. Amy could not believe that she was witnessing such sadism. As the boy’s eyes filled with tears of agony she rose to her feet. Then James blocked her view.

  ‘Perhaps I can help?’ he offered. Two quick strides took him towards the Countess as he began to speak in a language incomprehensible to anyone in the room except for Sir William and the two boys. Then he took Cassius by the hand and drew him towards a chair. Only then did he address her ladyship.

  ‘If you have some instructions for these children, ma’am, I will endeavour to pass them on.’ His voice was very quiet, but Amy detected the hint of steel beneath his words.

  The Countess was not entirely stupid. An overpowering desire to infuriate Amy had persuaded her into folly. She knew that she had gone too far. She raised a languid hand to her brow and lay back among her cushions.

  ‘Oh, Laverstoke, I cannot think! My head aches so! In fact, I feel an attack coming on.’ She gave her husband a melting gaze. ‘I am sorry to be so feeble, dearest. Perhaps we have delayed our departure for Brighton for too long. Possibly the change of air might restore me.’

  The Earl was all solicitude, and Amy’s heart ached for him. Swept off his feet by a lovely face, he had succeeded in tying a millstone about his neck. When would he come to understand the true nature of the woman he had married? It must be true that love was blind, but it seemed so unfair that this kindly, amiable man should have shackled himself to such a creature.

  As the Earl helped his wife away, Amy turned to James, to find that he and Sir William were deep in conversation with the two boys. Both men were looking stern.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked at once. ‘What have the boys been saying?’

  Sir William hesitated. Then he looked at James. ‘The tale is an ugly one, my friend. Perhaps we should not repeat it.’

  ‘I think we must,’ James replied very quietly. ‘These ladies should be told the truth.’

  Even so, he was silent for so long that Amy grew alarmed.

  ‘Oh, pray do not keep us in suspense,’ Amy cried. ‘We are not children, James, to be shielded from unpleasant facts.’

  He sighed. ‘Well, if you will have it then, we seem to have stumbled upon the Comte’s latest money-making scheme.’

  ‘Go on!’

  ‘It is rather worse than we feared. When the slave ships dock at Bristol he goes aboard and buys the male children of a certain age.’

  Charlotte paled. ‘He takes them from their families to sell them as pets to the aristocracy? Oh, that is monstrous!’ She was clinging to the back of a chair and seemed about to faint.

  James was the closest to her and he slipped an arm about her waist. ‘Sit down, my dear,’ he said gently. ‘Believe me, he won’t be allowed to continue with this filthy trade.’

  Amy was feeling rather sick herself, but an overwhelming sense of outrage sustained her. ‘What can we do?’ she cried. ‘May we not buy these children from the Countess and return them to their parents?’

  ‘An impossible task!’ James told her. ‘Their ship is already upon the high seas on its way to the New World. Aside from all else, you can have no idea of the conditions on board, and I don’t propose to describe them. The children would be sold as slaves in any case when they reached the Indies.’

  ‘But we can’t do nothing,’ Amy insisted. Tense with frustration, she began to pace the room. ‘This is sickening!’

  ‘We intend to take some action,’ Sir William promised. ‘The…er…removal of the Comte might be a start.’

  There was something in his voice that brought Amy to a sudden halt.

  ‘Removal?’ she enquired. ‘I do not understand you, sir. Surely you cannot mean…?’

  ‘No, Amy, we don’t intend to knock him upon the head.’ James took her hand in his. ‘Won’t you trust us, my dear?’

  ‘Of course…that goes without saying…but what can you do?’

  ‘We have our own methods, Miss Wentworth. Certain facts have come to light about Philippe de Vionnet that cannot endear him to our Government. For one thing he is not a Frenchman, driven from France under the Terror.’

  Amy’s eyes grew round. ‘You mean that his stories about his lost estates are all a pack of lies? Who is he, then?’

  ‘We believe him to be Italian, and a dangerous double agent. It can be a lucrative business.’ Sir William eyed her with deceptive calm. ‘If he is deported from this country, the trade in these unfortunate children may be lessened.’

  ‘But the slave trade will not stop,’ Charlotte said sadly. She had recovered a little, and was stroking the head of Cassius who had come to sit beside her. When he looked up and spoke she appealed to Sir William.

  ‘I cannot understand the boy, sir, but he seems to be asking a question. What is he saying?’

  ‘He is asking what is to become of himself and his friend.’ He turned to the child and answered at some length. London and Brighton were mentioned, but clearly they meant nothing to either boy. Another question followed, but Sir William’s reply reduced Cassius to silence.

  ‘He seems distressed,’ Charlotte said at once. ‘What is troubling him?’

  ‘He asked if London and Brighton were far from Bristol. Poor child! I fear that he hopes to take ship for the Indies to find his family.’

  It was at this moment that the Earl returned. He looked surprised to find his guests still in the salon.

  ‘Forgive me!’ he said at once. ‘I have been remiss, leaving these children in your charge. You will be wishing to continue with your work.’ He dismissed the boys.

  ‘How is the Countess?’ Politeness required Amy to ask the question, but it was done without enthusiasm.

  ‘She is resting, my dear Miss Wentworth. How kind of you to ask! My wife is highly strung, you know, and the least little thing is inclined to overset her. She worries so about these little creatures, fearing that she has not done her best by them, and that her sister will be disappointed in young Prospero.’

  Amy gave him a sympathetic glance, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The Countess might have convinced her husband of her good intentions, but as far as Amy was concerned the lady was a positive virago. All her concern was for herself.

  She said as much to James when they returned to the site of the excavations.

  ‘A trying creature!’ James agreed. ‘But I beg you to bear up. Laverstoke tells me that his wife has insisted upon a change of air. They will leave for Brighton in the morning.’

  That was a relief, but Amy was still deeply troubled. James slipped her arm through his.

  ‘Let us guess?’ he said. ‘You cannot stomach these disclosures about the slave trade? Am I right?’

  Wordlessly, she nodded.

  ‘Take heart, my dearest g
irl, this trade cannot continue. There are those in Parliament who oppose it. In the end they will win the day.’

  ‘I hope so, but in the meantime…?’

  ‘In the meantime, we shall do what we can. Now tell me, what do you think about our latest finds?’ He picked up a roughly fashioned axe of flint set into a wooden handle.

  ‘It looks very old,’ Amy said doubtfully. ‘This cannot be from the Civil War.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. It comes from Neolithic times, and the flint arrowhead which you see here is from the Iron Age.’

  ‘Then the site is much, much older than we thought?’

  ‘It is possibly chosen because the river is so close at hand. That must have been the easiest way to travel in dangerous times when there were no roads and wild animals abounded.’

  ‘And the bowl?’

  ‘That too is from the Iron Age.’ James stroked it with a loving hand. ‘Someone used it four thousand years ago.’

  Amy looked at his face and felt a warm surge of affection. ‘I am beginning to understand why you enjoy this work so much,’ she said. ‘It makes the past come to life. Our ancestors are very real to you, I think.’

  ‘They are!’ James was absorbed. ‘Just look at this rubbing stone! It is as smooth as silk…’

  To Amy it was just another stone, but it must be of importance to produce such a reaction. ‘What is its purpose?’ she enquired.

  ‘It was used on leather, Amy, to make it soft. Even in those far-off days, fashion must have been of great interest.’ He was teasing her again, and she responded with a smile.

  ‘Now let us see how Charlotte goes on,’ he said. ‘I confess that I was worried about her. I felt at once that we should not have gone into such detail about the Comte’s activities.’

  Amy nodded. ‘She’s a gentle soul. The story came as a shock to her. We had imagined that he had taken pity on those two young boys, and rescued them out of kindness. Neither she nor I had any idea that this was a money-making scheme.’

  James looked across to see that Charlotte had resumed her seat beneath the parasol and was already drawing. Sir William stood beside her, reading out a list of measurements.