The Matchmaker's Marriage

by Meg Alexander

  Very slowly, James brought his hands into view from beneath the table. They were empty.

  Amy groaned softly to herself. What could they do against an armed man? James must have been mad to think that he could defeat the Comte without a weapon. Now she and her love were in the most appalling danger. At any moment the captain and his crew might come aboard.

  Amy gritted her teeth. It was time for a diversion. If she could distract the Comte he might drop his guard. The answer was to bait him into fury.

  ‘Civilised?’ she snapped. ‘You don’t know the meaning of the word! I suppose one can expect no more from a bastard dragged up in the slums of Genoa.’

  There was a long silence. Amy looked at James and saw the fear in his eyes. That fear was for her safety. She could not see the face of the man behind her, but she knew that she had gone too far. Closing her eyes she waited for the shot which would end her life, but it did not come.

  ‘Dear me!’ the smooth voice said. ‘Will you never learn, my dear? Later, you will pay for that remark.’ He reversed the pistol as if to club her with the butt, but a sudden movement from James caused him to level it again.

  Amy would not give up. She had almost succeeded in giving James time to reach him. Now she would try again.

  She threw back the hood of her cloak to expose her battered cheek. The bruises were already discoloured.

  ‘I must suppose that women will always be your chosen target,’ she snapped. ‘Such an easy choice, monsieur! You would think twice before attacking a man…’

  ‘I have done so in the past.’ The Comte spoke in a level voice. He had recovered his composure. ‘How foolish of you to display your injuries to Sir James! It might persuade him into losing his head!’

  ‘Pray do not hope for that!’ James seemed to be in command of the situation, but Amy was unconvinced. She longed for him to take some action. Could he not see that the longer they remained aboard the vessel, the greater the danger?

  ‘These negotiations?’ he continued in the same imperturbable tone. ‘What do you have in mind, Monsieur le Comte?’

  ‘My dear sir, I hope to get away, of course, taking Miss Amy with me. I confess that I am somewhat at a loss to know just how you found me…’

  ‘It was not so difficult. Bristol seemed your most likely destination since you have connections here. You would not risk an inn, I thought, but I knew that you could not sail before nightfall. It was merely a question of seeking information along the dockside.’

  ‘I see. Do you tell me that, single-handed, you overwhelmed the captain of this vessel and his crew?’ The Comte did not trouble to hide his amusement.

  ‘Of course not. There was no need. A man who will take a bribe to aid in an abduction must be thought likely to accept an even larger bribe to change his coat.’

  For the first time Amy sensed a stirring of unease in the man who held her. His voice was harsh when he replied.

  ‘You lie! You could not be sure of that. Besides, sir, I do not think that bribery is your style.’

  ‘You are right on both points, sir. I did not rely on bribery alone, since, as you say, it is not my habit to do so. Nor did I take this vessel single-handed. I took care to summon aid from the authorities—’

  ‘You are bluffing! We came here unopposed.’

  ‘At my request. I did not intend you to slip away in the slums of Bristol. You did not remark the lack of bustle upon the docks tonight? That was careless upon your part. The wharves have been cordoned off for hours with militiamen in every building.’

  In the silence that followed Amy scarcely dared to move. Her captor was a trapped man. He would not surrender without a fight. He was breathing fast as he considered his next move. She was the pawn in this deadly game and he knew it.

  ‘My dear sir, you forget that I have your lady here. Will you risk her life for the sake of taking me? I think not. Allow me to suggest a compromise. My freedom in return for that of Miss Wentworth? I need not remind you that I hold the only weapon in this room.’

  ‘Not quite!’ Sir William had slipped into the room as silently as a cat, to press the barrel of his gun against the base of the Comte’s skull. ‘Throw down your pistol, sir!’

  For an agonising moment Amy wondered if Philippe de Vionnet would obey. Would his desire for vengeance triumph over self-preservation? The only sound in the room was the creaking of the ship’s timbers as the vessel rose and fell upon the tide.

  Then she heard a low laugh as the weapon clattered to the ground. ‘You win!’ her captor said. Then, surprisingly, he bowed to Amy. ‘Did I not tell you weeks ago that these were dangerous men?’

  ‘You may believe it!’ James rose to his feet, raising the pistol that had rested upon his knee. He rang the bell at his right hand and suddenly the cabin was filled with armed men. ‘Take him on deck!’ James ordered briefly. He did not look at Amy.

  A dreadful suspicion was forming in her mind. ‘What will you do with him?’ she breathed. ‘Oh, James, you will not hang him from the yardarm?’

  ‘What else?’ His tone was brusque. ‘He is not worth powder and shot.’

  This was a James she did not know.

  ‘You don’t understand!’ she cried. ‘He had good reason for what he did…at least he thought so.’

  James turned to face her then. ‘Did you go with him of your own free will?’ he asked.

  ‘No, of course not. I mean…he offered to take me home. It was only later, when I recovered, that I found we were in Bristol.’

  ‘And when you found that you had been drugged in order to bring you here? Was not that enough for you?’

  Amy tried to retrieve the situation. ‘I am not sure that I was drugged,’ she lied. ‘I drank some wine at the Assembly Rooms. Most probably it was that. I am not used to it.’

  No one believed her. That, at least, was clear. The tension in the room was palpable, but it was the Comte who broke the silence.

  ‘My dear, you must not try to shield me,’ he chuckled. ‘You will give your friends the wrong impression. They know that you were drugged. Now they must wonder if you have some sneaking regard for a man who would have killed you.’ He appealed to James and Sir William. ‘Women are a mystery, are they not?’

  Amy faced him squarely. ‘Would you have killed me, sir?’

  He laughed again. ‘Alas, we shall never know.’

  James interrupted sharply. ‘Take him on deck,’ he repeated. ‘Let us be done with this.’

  ‘No!’ Amy clutched at his sleeve, but he pushed her into a chair.

  ‘Stay here!’ he ordered. ‘It will soon be over.’

  ‘No, I won’t! And you can’t make me do so.’ Her mouth set in a mutinous line.

  He turned away, apparently indifferent. ‘Very well! Have it your way, if you must…it won’t be a pretty sight.’ He strode out of the cabin behind the others.

  Amy followed. She could not allow him to hang the Comte. For one thing, it would be murder.

  ‘I thought you believed in British justice,’ she ground out. ‘This man has not been tried or convicted.’

  ‘He has convicted himself by his own admission,’ came the uncompromising reply.

  ‘So you are to be judge and jury? I had thought better of you.’

  Richmond did not answer her. He strode across the deck to where the Comte stood between two militiamen.

  Amy saw to her horror that a hempen rope swung in the breeze above de Vionnet’s head.

  ‘Will you hang me without benefit of clergy, Sir James?’

  Amy ran forward to stand between the two men. ‘You can’t!’ she cried. ‘Oh, James, don’t you see that this is wrong?’

  ‘Pray save your breath, Miss Wentworth. There is little to choose between execution or transportation. I believe that I should prefer the former.’ The Comte looked steadily at James. ‘Will you object if I beg Miss Wentworth to shake my hand before you bind me? I have the highest possible regard for her courage. She is a jewel among women…’


  Ignoring James, Amy held out her hand to the condemned man. She was unprepared for what happened next.

  Philippe de Vionnet raised her fingers to his lips, but then he stiffened his arm and thrust her back sharply against Sir James, confusing the militiamen who stood on either side of him.

  He raced for the taffrail and balanced upon it for a moment, blowing an impudent kiss to Amy and ignoring the musket balls that flew through the air about him. Then he turned and dived into the murky waters of the harbour.

  Amy heard the splash and closed her eyes as a volley of shots rang out. None of them hit their target.

  ‘Damn the man! He has more lives than a cat.’ Sir William growled. ‘Can he get away?’

  ‘Unlikely! The harbour is surrounded.’ James peered below, but not a ripple broke the surface. He ordered the men to stop firing, knowing that it was useless. The darkness cloaked their target.

  Amy leaned against the mainmast. Reaction had set in, and her limbs seemed no longer prepared to do her bidding. She found that she was shaking uncontrollably. Summoning all her strength, she staggered away and made her way back to the captain’s cabin.

  She was close to tears. James had not offered her a single word of kindness. Perhaps he believed that in spite of everything she still had a secret tendre for Philippe de Vionnet? Her chin went up. Let him think so, if he wished. She had supposed him to be her friend. How could he know so little of her?

  Suddenly he was beside her. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked. ‘It is high time that we left.’

  Amy did not answer him. She rose to her feet and drew her cloak about her. In silence she allowed him to lead the way to the upper deck.

  Later she could not recall being rowed ashore, or climbing into the carriage that took them to their rendezvous with Charlotte and her father. She could think of nothing but the fact that James, her dearest friend and the man she loved, was treating her like a stranger.

  During her long hours of captivity she had prayed that he would come to rescue her. She would throw herself into his embrace, his arms would close about her, and she would be safe forever. How different was the reality! He had not touched her, even to offer her his hand, and she had heard no words of kindness from him.

  Well, she was done with begging for his affection. If he still believed that she had gone with the Comte of her own free will, she would not try to convince him otherwise. Her bruised face alone should have persuaded him of the truth. Gingerly she raised a hand to touch her cheek, and then she winced. The swollen flesh was acutely painful and her eye was almost closed.

  Yet she had begged for the Comte’s life to be spared. Perhaps that was the reason why James now sat beside her in silence, his face an unreadable mask.

  Amy’s chin went up. She did not regret her action, though Philippe de Vionnet had seemed prepared to kill her. That was no excuse for a summary execution. Some of his past deeds had been monstrous, but she could not banish from her mind the picture of the young boy who had watched his mother die of starvation. I hope he gets away, she whispered to herself, but she did not voice the thought. These past hours had seemed like a living nightmare, and she felt as if a band of ice had closed about her heart.

  She had begun to shiver and Sir William eyed her with concern.

  ‘We shall soon have you indoors,’ he comforted. ‘Bear up, Miss Wentworth, your ordeal is at an end.’

  Amy pressed his hand, but she did not believe him. No ordeal could be worse than to lose James and she had done so. A sense of despair possessed her and it did not lift even when they reached the inn and Charlotte came running towards her.

  ‘Oh, Amy, you are safe at last! I did not even dare to hope…’ Charlotte burst into tears.

  ‘Nay, lass, don’t turn into a watering-pot!’ her father chided. He gathered Amy to him and kissed her soundly. ‘Forgive the liberty, my dear, but we are that glad to see you. To look at my girl here you would not know how clever she has been. She’s seen your aunt and promised to fetch you back to her. She even thought to bring some clothes for you. Bless me, if she ain’t a chip off the old block—’

  James interrupted only once. ‘Sir, we should leave without delay,’ he said.

  ‘Back to Bath tonight? My dear sir, are you mad? We shall do no such thing. Miss Amy needs to rest and Charlotte ain’t in much better case, worn out as she’s been with worry.’

  ‘You wish us to stay here, Mr Skelmersdale?’

  ‘Indeed, Sir William, I insist on it. I’ve taken rooms enough for all of us and we’ll be the better for a hearty meal. Charlotte, will you take Miss Amy to her chamber? She’ll wish to change into her own garments.’

  No one argued with him. They had seen a glimpse of the successful mill-owner who brooked no opposition to his will.

  It was only later, when their meal was over, that Amy voiced her worries to him.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she said in a low tone, ‘but I can’t go back to Bath…’

  ‘Why ever not, my dear?’

  Amy was aware that the others were listening, but she went on bravely. ‘The Comte explained to me that I should never be able to retrieve my good reputation. No one will receive me when it is known that I was…er…missing overnight and that my companion was Phil ippe de Vionnet.’

  Mr Skelmersdale patted her dark curls. ‘Don’t trouble your head about it! It’s all sorted out. Our Charlotte thought about it first. She thinks you have forgot that you came to stay with her last night.’

  Amy stared at him. ‘You mean I stayed at your home in Bath? No one would believe it, sir. Mrs Skelmersdale would never have agreed…’

  She heard a low chuckle. ‘She’s done so, lass. It was her part of the bargain…she’ll back your story, never fear.’

  ‘And your part of the bargain, Mr Skelmersdale?’

  He leaned back in his wing-chair, stretching out his legs towards the fire. Then he assumed a solemn look. ‘It won’t suit our Charlotte or Sir William,’ he announced with a downcast air. ‘I’ve had to agree that they can be wed.’

  Charlotte gave a cry of joy and ran towards him, showering his face with kisses. Then Sir William seized him by the hand, pumping it up and down until the older man protested.

  ‘Bless me, you’ll kill me off between the pair of you,’ he said. ‘Save your energy for each other. Go and do your billing and cooing in yon parlour. Just a half-hour, mind!’

  ‘Oh, Charlotte, I do wish you happy!’ Amy threw her arms about her friend. Then she turned to Sir William and held out her hand. ‘Congratulations, Sir! You are a lucky man!’

  James added his good wishes, but as the couple left the room he excused himself. ‘I have unfinished business at the docks,’ he explained.

  As Amy looked up in alarm he bowed to her. ‘Don’t worry!’ he said stiffly. ‘I won’t shoot him out of hand.’ Then he closed the door behind him.

  Mr Skelmersdale did not break the silence and Amy bestirred herself at last.

  ‘Sir, are you happy with this betrothal?’ she asked quietly. ‘I would not have you persuaded to save my reputation if it goes against your own wishes.’

  He chuckled then. ‘I ain’t often persuaded to act against my inclination,’ he assured her. ‘I give way in the small things, but not when it comes to Charlotte’s happiness.’

  ‘You seemed so set against Sir William,’ she persisted.

  ‘You misunderstand me, my dear. I have grown to know Sir William and I think him a splendid chap. Charlotte was my worry. I thought her much too young and inexperienced to decide on such a fateful step.’

  ‘And you have changed your mind?’

  ‘I have. She has surprised me, and I suspect, herself. I wish you might have seen her when she knew that you were gone. No general could have ordered matters better. She thought of everything. We had no vapours and no tears. She has changed so much…thanks to you.’

  Amy brushed the compliment aside. ‘Her sterling character was always there. I’m sure that she and
Sir William will be happy.’

  ‘Aye, they’ll deal well together, digging up ruins to their heart’s content.’

  He received no answering smile from Amy. ‘Now then, my dear,’ he said at last. ‘Won’t you tell me what is troubling you? You’ve been that quiet this evening. Is it your face? It does look mighty painful.’

  ‘It isn’t that,’ she replied in a low voice.

  ‘No? I’m a clumsy brute, you know, but I ain’t forgotten what a time you must have had. Perhaps you wish to seek your bed? There is no need to sit with me.’ Then a thought struck him. ‘This Comte…he didn’t offer you insult, ma’am?’

  Amy knew what he was asking. ‘No, sir. He did not lay a hand on me except to strike my face.’ When she looked up her eyes were filled with tears. ‘Do you suppose that James will catch him?’

  ‘I doubt it. That fellow is as slippery as an eel and he’s been in tight spots before. Never took to him, y’know. He’s too smooth by half. Sir James won’t care to have him on the loose, but you are right. It won’t do to have the Comte’s blood upon his hands, even if he is a villain. Now don’t distress yourself, I beg of you. A good half of the things we worry about never come to pass. I’d put money on the fact that yon chap will get away. Is that what you want?’

  ‘It is. Mr Skelmersdale, you will think me foolish, but you do not know his story.’

  ‘Then you had best tell me, lass.’

  He listened without interruption as she outlined the pitiful tale of the Comte’s childhood. ‘Do you see now why he wanted to wreak vengeance upon my family?’ she said at last. ‘He swore it upon his mother’s grave.’

  ‘I see…And Sir James does not know this story?’

  ‘I only discovered it myself last night. Now I shall never be able to tell him.’ Her lips were quivering. ‘He will not speak to me.’