The Fencing Master's Daughter

by Giselle Marks

  Madelaine could hear little of the conversation, except the man was leaving, and wished Furet “Au revoir.” The door closed again and the man’s footsteps clattered down the stairs and exited through the locked door into the street. Madelaine was relieved the number of Edward’s guards was now fewer by one and listened for further conversation through the wall but although she could hear the unmistakable accents of the French spy shortly after talking loudly she could not distinguish his words. He seemed to be repeating something but she could not figure out what he was saying. The one-sided conversation continued for ten minutes or so then subsided. The room behind the wall fell silent, or the conversation within was so quiet that no noise filtered through the brick wall dividing them.

  Madelaine fought to stay awake and tensed her muscles in turn to try and keep prepared for action. It seemed like hours had passed since Alfred had left, surely he must return with help soon? Madelaine tried to estimate the time that had passed but without a timepiece in the dark she feared her estimate might be very inaccurate. She hoped Edward Charrington was alive and not badly injured and they would be able to rescue him from his attackers.

  Chapter Twelve – Dérangement

  Edward Charrington was conscious but utterly uncomfortable. He had been only briefly out cold but had feigned a far more serious effect. A hour or so before he had been hauled to a table and ordered by the French man to sign some documents, but despite water being thrown over him he had pretended to be unable to sit upright or remain awake. Edward had slumped in the chair and despite a couple of vicious slaps to his face had remained apparently oblivious of all around him. He kept his eyes shut, but tried to determine how many assailants were in the room with him. He was damp and trying very hard not to shiver in the unheated room. He settled on the number of four, although one of the two who had carried him said very little.

  His original assailants were both Londoners from the working or criminal classes. Furet spoke heavily accented English and fluent very correct French. The fourth spoke only to Furet in French, but although his French was accurate Edward believed from his pronunciation that he was English. The conversation the group of men had was not very informative. Furet had complained to the men for knocking Edward unconscious and they had rigorously defended themselves as having treated him with great gentleness. The more voluble of the two men argued in his own defence that Edward was pretending to be unconscious which had brought about the thrown water and Furet’s attempt to force him to concentrate on some papers and affix his signature to them.

  What the papers were for had not been explained to him and Furet’s threats that if he did not obey, he would be killed had so far not been put into effect. One advantage had come from the attempt to revive him and get him to sign the documents, was that they had untied his hands to allow him to write and although they had refastened his wrists behind him after their ineffective threats, they had not been able to tie him as securely as before. So he was beginning to get the blood moving within his pinioned hands and he tested the knots binding him believing that he would be able to untangle them if he was left undisturbed for long enough.

  Edward was not expecting an early rescue, for he had not realised Madelaine had followed and although he was sure that Timothy would be searching Vauxhall Gardens for him, unless someone had seen his capture there was little chance anyone would discover his place of concealment. Edward had ascertained that he had been carried upstairs within what he suspected was a warehouse or work shop of some kind and that the carriage had driven some miles before stopping. The room he was in seemed to be that of a resident care-taker and he had been thrown onto a small malodourous bed on top of a roughly woven blanket. He did not dare to risk opening his eyes and looking around him for fear that they would realise he was fully conscious and repeat their attempts to make him sign the papers which lay upon the rough wooden table. For now all he was hoping for was for some time, some opportunity for them to be off their guard and a chance to escape. The departure of the French-speaking Englishman shortened the odds, but the two Londoners were burly and from their conversation Edward was certain they had no moral scruples about despatching him.

  Edward lay unmoving, awaiting developments, but worrying at the knots that bound his hands behind him. Noises from the street filtered up, it sounded like a group of very drunken lads were revelling riotously in the road. Then there was the unmistakable sound of the street door being battered with enthusiasm and the group of drunks were calling out for some person called “Norton” to come down and join their revels. Furet got annoyed as it was plain from their persistence that they were not going to go away any time soon. If they continued to make so much noise they might attract the watch from neighbouring streets and they could not afford for the watch to get curious. The earl would already be being searched for, they could not afford for him to be discovered.

  Furet sent the more garrulous Londoner down the stairs to try and persuade the drunkards that no Norton was in the building, and to go away. The man descended the stairs and shouted through the door for them to go away but the group continued to bang on the door and insisted he produce Norton to come and celebrate with them. Eventually he unlocked the door from within only to find himself pushed to the ground as a large and heavily armed group of men forced their way past and over him, rushing the stairs. Those had been his last thoughts as one of the men brought a weighted stick down hard upon his cranium.

  Madelaine stood quietly as she heard the noises below and unsheathed her sword preparing for action. She moved silently to the opening as the group surged up the stairs, the other Londoner opening the door and observing the mob rushing upwards with consternation. He did not notice her foil sliding neatly into his chest until it was too late. He fell, spurting blood from his lips and chest upon the floorboards of the warehouse landing.

  She stepped quietly into the room to discover Furet was grappling with Edward Charrington, who had managed to free his hands, but not his feet. Madelaine moved forward silently, the bloody point of her foil extended towards Furet’s unprotected back, but Edward was briefly distracted by the sight of Madelaine dressed in men’s clothing appearing in the room.The Ferret took advantage of Edward’s lapse of concentration and twisted himself free from the earl’s grip, leaving behind only his greatcoat in Edward’s hands. The Ferret turned to retrieve his coat and saw the bloodied foil coming towards him, as the noise of men thundering up the stairs was heard by them all.

  Before the earl could grab Furet again or Madelaine could impale him on her sword, the French man dove through a piece of sacking that was pinned to the rear wall of the room and disappeared into the darkness. Edward reached the sacking before Madelaine crossed the room and ripped it from the wall. Behind the sacking a small hole opened into the dark depths of the adjoining building.

  Edward had been amazed to see Madelaine appear as if from nowhere. He could not begin to guess how she had managed to discover where he had been taken by his abductors so speedily. He wondered why she was dressed in male clothing; but it seemed an unimportant detail. Edward realised he was tired and finding it difficult to make sense of anything but he was overjoyed to see her, however she was dressed. Before he could discover any explanation for his questions, Madelaine had followed Furet through the hole. While Edward struggled to untangle his feet from their bindings the others had reached the corpse of the quiet Londoner. The earl was relieved to see that the men who were now crowding into the room included Henri Vallon, Charlie Griggs and others of their friends.

  On the further side of the wall, Madelaine could see nothing of Furet or of the space’s contents. Very little light filtered through the hole which was far too small for Edward when he tried to follow her through. He passed her a lantern through at her request and a couple of the smaller men divested themselves of their coats to enable them to squeeze through the gap. As Edward thanked Charlie and Henri for his rescue, the other men searched the adjacent building which appeared to be m
ostly empty but they found no sign of where Furet had disappeared to.

  Charlie gave Edward a cursory explanation as to how Madelaine had observed his kidnapping and followed them from Vauxhall. He told him that she had alerted Alfred who had been shadowing Furet. Alfred had informed Timothy Griggs who together with Henri Vallon had collected the others to attempt his rescue.

  Henri explained in French that he had been escorting Madelaine to Vauxhall to see the rope walker. When Edward suggested that Madelaine’s mode of dress was not what one would normally expect of a young lady visiting Vauxhall, Henri had said that she had not attracted any attention and had worn a mask. He thought Madelaine had been much safer dressed as a man than she would have been in ladies’ clothes. When Edward discovered next that Madelaine had left the salle without Louis’s knowledge he was shocked, and had remonstrated with Henri for colluding with her deceiving her father. Henri had shrugged his shoulders and said that if he had not escorted her then she would have gone on her own.

  Some of the men ran back out the warehouse and looked for Furet in the road and some approached the warehouse in the same way as Madelaine by climbing over the walls of the adjoining buildings. The only movement they spotted in the darkness of the last hours before dawn was a small boat moving down stream away from the warehouse. They could not be sure that was how the French man had made his escape but whether he had left by the river, the road or descended into the sewers of London town no trace of him could be found and reluctantly Edward ordered the search called off.

  Furet had left behind the papers that he had been demanding Edward should sign; these and Furet’s great coat they carried away with them. The corpse of the quiet Londoner they left behind. The prone, battered, but living body of the more talkative man accompanied Alfred. Charlie Griggs drove Edward, Madelaine and Henri to the Salle Deschamps in convoy with several other cabs carrying their comrades. Charlie was thankful Edward had been rescued in time, but he was annoyed that despite all their precautions it had been so easy to separate Edward from his protectors and kidnap him. Madelaine and Henri entered the salle noiselessly and reached their beds without Louis ever discovering their absence.

  Edward however arrived home in Grosvenor Square to find the house lit up as if for a party. It was alive with his concerned mother, her escort, his sister Sophia, her husband Sir Anthony Wynstanley, most of the servants and several Bow Street Runners, including Brean, who had been summoned to assist with the search for the earl. Charlie Griggs took charge of the crowd and explained to the Runners where the earl had been imprisoned and that they would find a corpse of one of his assailants there. The runners left to examine these details.

  Lady Chalcombe having assured herself that Edward was not seriously injured; ordered a carriage to be brought to the door to bear Sophia and the two men to their homes. Most of the servants she then ordered to their beds but Jenkins was requested to provide Edward with a glass of brandy before she grilled her son for the details of what had happened to him.

  Charlie Griggs exited, leaving his nephew Timothy behind to watch over Edward. His candour in informing the runners about the dead felon had not stretched to mentioning the live one held prisoner by his friends and relatives. He doubted that individual would know much more than Eustace had known about Furet, but tomorrow they would seek to find out what he did know. Nor had he named Furet or given a description of him to the runners. Charlie and the earl had decided that Furet’s involvement was something that should be revealed to someone who specialised in the field of espionage.

  Edward’s mother’s curiosity had to wait until the following day to be satisfied because once she had dismissed the others and he knocked back the warming brandy.

  “Mother, my clothes are damp and I don’t want to catch a cold, so I’m heading straight to my bedroom so I can get out of these wet things,” he informed her.

  “Oh, you poor thing, how you have suffered, but yes of course you must change at once,” she fussed over him. He kissed her cheek and wished her goodnight and ascended the stairs at speed before she could detain him further.

  Plovett had already prepared a hot bath for him and, having tutted over a few new bruises his master had acquired in the course of his adventure, had soon put the exhausted Edward into a warmed nightshirt and into an even warmer bed. Plovett himself blew out the last candle and drew the curtains around his master’s bed before leaving to seek his own rest.

  Edward went to sleep dreaming of Madelaine and the view of her neat rump dressed in her father’s breeches disappearing through the hole in the wall. Madelaine clad in overlarge gentleman’s apparel had given him a far better impression of the details of her figure than he had managed to achieve from the ugly, dark, all-covering clothing he usually saw her in. It was rare he caught even a glimpse of a curl of her glorious long blonde hair and despite the greater ease with which she now conversed with him, she had not relented at all in displaying herself in finery to please him. He had offered her several pretty presents, each of which she had refused to accept or examine.

  Madelaine had said little after she returned from searching the other building and seemed all the more determined to hold him at a distance. He hoped that she was merely tired after the stress and discomfort of the rescue attempt, but he allowed himself desperately to hope that she might care a little for him. His conversation with Charlie Griggs whilst the search for Furet had been carried out had informed him, once more he was in Madelaine’s debt for his discovery and rescue. So even if she did not fancy herself in love with him, as he knew he was deeply besotted with her, perhaps she cared enough to now consider how miserable he would be if she refused to spend her life with him.

  What had started for Edward as gratitude and desire for Madelaine had escalated with every minute he spent in her company. His desire had not lessened and he had felt no wish to visit another woman to ease his lust, even though thoughts of Madelaine regularly disturbed his sleep. His respect for her courage and intelligence together with the beauty and grace of her face, voice and movements had grown with everything he learnt of her. Edward had no doubt Madelaine would fill the role of his Countess in every detail perfectly. If his mind now and then concentrated on the prospect of her filling his bed, then it must be argued in his defence that Edward’s mind had also fantasised about her in many other settings.

  Not only had he imagined their wedding at Chalcombe St. Mary, he had pictured her dining wearing an elegant evening dress at Chalcombe Manor laughing at his gentle banter and entertaining his guests. He envisaged her walking about the grounds on his arm with a pair of fluffy spaniels at her heels and visualized her riding through the estate at his side. One of his prettiest imaginings had been fancying her waltzing in his arms around an empty ballroom, with only the strains of music floating in from a neighbouring salon. Not least among Edward’s dreams was of her playing with their children, half a dozen of them no less and her not looking a day older or a mite less beautiful.

  What he could not conceive was an existence which did not include Madelaine as his wife, his lover and the woman he would spend his life with. He could not believe that he would ever tire of her or want to put another woman in her place. If at the end of all these dreams he lusted after her slender body naked and touching his, then his desire for her body was not his only motivation in seeking to marry her. As Edward drifted into sleep he reviewed the arguments he had tried to persuade her to accept him. He could find no new arguments that might sway her resolution to deny him.

  Perhaps when she had spent some time with him at Chalcombe Manor she would be tempted to consider him more favourably. He loved the Manor and hoped it might help her decide in his favour. He feared that after her second rescue of him she would never see him as a man who she could desire. She had denied finding fault with him but had she been trying not to offend him? Whenever he had asked if there was some other man she might have feelings for she had denied any such paragon’s existence, but could she be hiding an il
licit love that she dare not reveal to her father?

  Edward was sure that she was not frightened of him, yet she seemed obstinately to keep her distance and avoided allowing him even the slightest touch of her hand. When she had frightened off Furet, her first thought had been to go after him, not to check on Edward’s well-being or to throw herself into his arms and cry with relief at his survival. Edward, while wishing that Furet had been killed or apprehended, could have hoped that just once she would embrace him and show she felt more for him than the mildest affection.

  Within the warmth of his commodious bed Edward dreamed contentedly and through his dreams Madelaine strolled, danced and rode and the man whose eyes she looked up into with overpowering love always wore Edward’s face. If he woke with his body on fire with physical desire for Madelaine, then at least for one night he had slept happily in her company. Madelaine however had slept little, finding that Edward Charrington would not be driven out of her thoughts try as she might. If only he had realised he might have felt less despondent about his failure to persuade her to be his wife.

  Her hatred for Furet had been her overwhelming thought as she had followed him through the hole in the wall. Her failure to rid the world of the elusive ferret disheartened her, as had the realisation that she had wished she could simply slide into Edward’s arms and forget about Major Furet’s existence. She had discovered nothing more of the rationale behind why Edward had been attacked, kidnapped and threatened, but the reasons behind the assault worried her less than the brief longing she had felt wondering what it would feel like if Edward were to kiss her.