The Fencing Master's Daughter

by Giselle Marks

  Cousin Almira whose decorations of seasonal greenery festooned the room had also been influenced by Henri’s Gallic charms. She had altered her decorations at his request, adding huge bows of brightly coloured satin to them. Her plans for a massive centre-piece of hot house flowers had been cancelled, for M. Vallon had persuaded her to restrict her efforts to two table decorations incorporating coloured ribbons.

  A colourful Chinese pagoda constructed of layers of cake covered with brightly coloured icing set in a sea of green gellée with huge water lilies made from fondant icing occupied the pride of position on the table. The colours of this edifice matched those of the coloured ribbons and gave the room a festive and elegant mystique. Cousin Almira was gratified to be much complimented on her arrangements and was pleased she had accepted Henri’s advice to save the flowers to make more extensive displays for the St. Stephen’s night ball. The meal was served without mishap and with a number of accolades being sent to the kitchens. Most of the guests assumed the Charrington’s London chef Patrice was in charge of the kitchens and declared his culinary skills had never been better.

  Eventually the dinner came to an end and the ladies retired replete to the drawing room. As the gentlemen passed the port around, the subject of the earl’s engagement was discussed more openly. None of the gentlemen was disparaging about his choice, Madelaine being described as “a piece of perfection,” but they were not satisfied by Edward’s defence that nothing had been settled and he was not yet engaged to be married.

  If Edward’s situation was awkward, then he soon managed to turn the conversation as none of the gentlemen present wished to antagonise their host. The gentlemen were about to join the ladies when one of the footmen bore a note which he handed to Louis. The Chevalier read the missive and made his apologies following the footman out.

  Edward said nothing, but was concerned as to whether Madelaine was indisposed. Yet when he reached the drawing room, he found Madelaine seated neatly embroidering as always and attempting to fend off the intrusive quizzing from Sophia and some of the other ladies. Then a footman entered and asked her to attend her father in the kitchens, and for her to bring her other sewing bag. She nodded and curtseyed to the ladies and hurried away. Some tables for whist had been set up and three games were in progress when Madelaine and Louis returned to the gathering. Edward who had been curious as to the reason for their absence asked Louis quietly if there had been a problem.

  “Nothing major, my lord, one of the footmen slipped on the kitchen stairs and cut his arm. Henri asked me to bandage it. I have given him some laudanum and sent him to his bed,” Louis softly replied.

  “Then why was Madelaine required?” the earl persisted not understanding the situation.

  “The cut needed some stitching and Madelaine’s stitches are neater than mine.”

  “Then you have some training in medicine?”

  “I studied some years at La Faculté d’Art de Paris, although I have never formally practiced.”

  “So Madelaine has had some experience of stitching wounds?”

  “Senor Vargez made a point of informing me that Mr. Creighton had made some enquiries about me, so you know I was a duellist and you have visited me at my salle. Do you imagine a man in my profession never gets cut? Madelaine has put more stitches in human skin than I imagine most country doctors ever do in their lifetimes. Your footman will heal without difficulty.”

  Edward felt both relief and chagrin, because the information he had received about the early years of the Chevalier Louis Devereaux had indicated he had studied medicine in Paris for a number of years. No mention of his training with Messieurs Texier de la Boessiere pere et fils had appeared in the document sent to his lawyers; which had led Edward to doubt whether Louis and the chevalier were the same person. However if Louis had told the truth, Edward should not be addressing him as chevalier.Although Louis had been the youngest son of five, his parents, his four brothers and his sister had ended their lives in the embrace of Madame La Guillotine along with a large number of other members of his family. Louis would now be legally, the Comte de Morlaix.

  Tables for cards had been set up after dinner and Louis was happy to join a game of whist. Madelaine excused herself from playing and when Sir Bardolph would have encouraged her by insisting they would teach her the rules, she was forced to reply.

  “I apologize, Sir Bardolph. I didn’t say I didn’t know how to play, but that I do not play cards.”

  When pressed further she sought her father’s support on the matter.

  “Madelaine is quite correct, Sir Bardolph. I forbade her to play cards some years back and unless she wishes greatly to play, that prohibition still stands.”

  The idea that Louis should issue such strict an interdict, seemed strange to the others but not unheard of even among the ton. So Madelaine was allowed not to play and continued with her embroidery.

  Madelaine was grateful when the evening came to an end. The pointed questions seemed never ending. The ladies had enquired about her accomplishments, her background and her marital plans. Her answers were beyond her needlework skills, she had no accomplishments, that she had spent most of her life travelling and she had no plans to marry were disbelieved, despite Lady Chalcombe generously attempting to divert the inquisition from persecuting Madelaine with unwanted questions. The ladies soon returned to furtive probing to try and elucidate the truth from Madelaine about her romance with the earl.

  As the evening neared its finish, her father’s off hand question of “Tirerez-vous aussi, demain, Madelaine?” had been met with confusion. The suggestion she might wish to join the shooting party was fortunately not overheard or understood by most of those close at hand to Madelaine, but she thought she should decline.

  “Madelaine has agreed to come for a ride with me, tomorrow morning, Chevalier,” Lady Chalcombe declared coming to her rescue.

  “Yes, I am looking forward to going riding with Lady Chalcombe. It is very kind of her to ask me. Thank you my lady,” Madelaine agreed gratefully.

  Finally, those not staying at the Manor over-night took their leave, and most of the other guests thanked their hosts and headed for their beds. Madelaine was grateful to seek hers and wished the Earl and Lady Chalcombe good night. The latter kissed her cheek and said she looked forward to riding with her at eleven the next morning. Edward went with Jenkins to check on the injured footman to find Louis was just leaving the room the young man shared with another young footman, apparently satisfied that his stitches were holding.

  Sir Bardolph and Sir Anthony were the last guests to retire. Edward suggested they remove themselves to the library to enjoy a brandy before they retired and this was agreed upon. His uncle, a gentleman of ample girth stated he was feeling peckish and wondered whether a little supper might be forthcoming? As dinner had ended only three hours previously Edward suppressed an urge to laugh and summoned Jenkins.

  “Has M. Vallon retired as Sir Bardolph is feeling a little peckish?” he enquired.

  “I will find out, my lord.”

  A few minutes later Henri presented himself and asked how he could be of service.

  A brief conversation mostly in French ensued during which Henri offered to prepare a number of dishes for the delectation of Sir Bardolph, who eventually settled for a beefsteak and a piece of freshly cooked game pie, which Henri confessed had only just come out of the oven. Sir Anthony thought that suggestion sounded attractive and doubled the order. Henri glanced at the earl to see if he would also like some supper but he laughed.

  “Henri, I could not eat any more even of your delicious cooking. Thank you so much for taking over the kitchens during the holidays. I honestly don’t know how we would have managed without you. Your cooking has been absolutely superb.”

  “Il n’est rien, Monsieur le Comte. J’apprècie cuisiner pour ceux avec le bon goût.”

  Julian joined them in the library having seen his parents off on their short journey home to the vicarage in the
village of Chalcombe. A few minutes later the steaks and pie accompanied by some sweet pastries appeared. Conversation was limited as the gentlemen did justice to their supper. Edward had Jenkins fetch another bottle of wine to assist with their digestion. Sir Bardolph finished every mouthful of his steak and the game pie and was demolishing the pastries with gusto, before finally admitting he could eat no more.

  “Excellent chef, Edward, ugly little man but his cooking is far superior to Patrice’s. You are lucky indeed to have obtained his services,” asserted Sir Bardolph

  “Regrettably he is not in my employ. He came with the Chevalier Devereaux and took one look at the kitchens and took over. I have been expecting uproar from the kitchens ever since but so far all is quiet.”

  “Jenkins informs me that Mrs. Moss complains that M. Vallon is providing Mrs. Worters with more than cooking tuition. I understand that Milady has forbidden her to say another word on the subject,” confided Julian.

  “Are you saying there is any truth in the rumour?” Edward enquired, picturing the plump Mrs. Worters with the ugly little Frenchman.

  “The servants seem to think they smell of April and May, but they are so overawed by the quality of his cooking, they are determined to do nothing to discourage him from cooking. I visited the kitchens a while back and they are all but saluting M. Vallon and Mrs. Worters is wearing a most fetching new cap,” reported Julian.

  “The ladies seem to be extremely taken with the Chevalier. You should marry the girl if the chef comes too!” pronounced Sir Anthony assaying another pastry.

  “He was very attentive to my sister; of course, the French have such excellent address. I thought Henrietta looked quite beautiful tonight, considering the delay caused by our late arrival, I expected her to have been tearing her hair out with the thought of dinner being ruined.” Sir Bardolph mused.

  “I found him and his daughter quite charming although I wondered why he disappeared for so long after dinner this evening,” added Sir Anthony.

  “He was asked to bandage one of the footmen who fell and cut his arm. Apparently he studied medicine in Paris,” answered the earl.

  “Oh! Fellow moves well, dresses like a fencing master! I don’t suppose you’ve heard the gossip about Sir Robert Dickinson?” Sir Anthony offered as a new topic of conversation.

  “No, what is the latest gossip? What has Sir Robert been up to?”

  “It appears he had some expectation of inheriting from his godfather. Some old buffer who has just cocked up his toes over in Markshire, but the on dit is he is most put out to find he had been completely cut out. He has left town in a fit of pique and retired to his hunting lodge to sulk. I’m told he’s finding it difficult to pay his bills.”

  “You wouldn’t know who his godfather was?” the earl asked Sir Anthony but looking at Julian who raised an eyebrow in response.

  “Sorry, all I heard is he was a recluse who lived in Markshire and never came to town.”

  Chapter Eighteen - L’Animaux et Les Enfants

  Edward noticed Madelaine had been avoiding him since he had kissed her, but was not greatly concerned. It was the behaviour he expected from a modest young woman. He was sure when he got her alone, she would melt once more into his arms and then breaking down her resistance to their marriage would be a foregone conclusion. He went to bed thinking of their kiss and his body reacted in response. Sleep was a long time coming because his mind would not move from the sensations of her mouth upon his and the feel of her slim body held tight against his body. He threw off his night-shirt and the covers of the bed; for his body felt as though it was on fire. It had little effect and he opened the window and leant naked into the icy air, but it was not until he was shivering with cold, that he returned to his bed to sleep briefly dreaming of Madelaine.

  Madelaine slept worse than Edward. When her maid left her alone, the memory of Edward’s kisses filled her mind and what would have followed those kisses, if they had not been interrupted by their arrival at Chalcombe Manor. Her cheeks flamed with the memory of her wanton behaviour. She tossed and turned and tried to think of anything but the sensation of Edward kissing her and how her body had reacted to his caress. She tried to force all thought of Edward from her mind in an attempt to sleep. As she lay unsleeping she listened to the noises of the house as it settled in the night. She had travelled enough to know that a building’s night noises were often strange and could make one imagine all sort of things. But it sounded like someone had walked quietly past her door. Madelaine dismissed the idea, everyone had settled down to bed hours ago. It was only her guilty conscience keeping her awake.

  Edward also heard the sound of light footsteps and did not doubt what he had heard. It was not as if nocturnal perambulation was that peculiar during country house parties, although all those who were staying overnight had escorted their spouses except for Louis and Madelaine. Edward found it surprising one of his guests was walking the Manor’s corridors. He might have considered Sir Bardolph was intending ransacking the kitchens, if he had not seen the size of the supper he had put away. It was possible one of the gentlemen had made an assignation with one of the female staff but Edward rather doubted it. The enigma of who the mysterious lover was visiting, did not interest Edward sufficiently for him to dwell on the matter for long; his thoughts of Madelaine were far more consuming.

  Edward and Sir Anthony were the first down to breakfast and they were shortly joined by Julian, Louis and Sir Bardolph. While the gentlemen were eating Edward’s chief groom entered.

  “My lord, her ladyship said she intended to ride with Lady Madelaine,” Noakes stated.

  “Yes, Noakes?” Edward said looking up from his breakfast.

  “Which horse would you like her mounted on, my lord. Should I saddle Pinecone or Whisper? Both are quiet horses which are suited to a lady,” he asked.

  “How well does Lady Madelaine ride, Chevalier?”

  “Expertly, my lord. I have never seen a horse she couldn’t master. She’d be safe even on that temperamental Spanish black stallion your stable lads are so frightened of. You need not worry she will fall.”

  “In which case Lady Madelaine won’t appreciate being put on a slug. Saddle Circe for her.”

  “Are you sure my lord? She threw Lady Chalcombe.”

  “If Lady Madelaine’s as good an equestrienne as her father states then she’ll cope with Circe’s mischief. At least she has some speed.”

  Madelaine came downstairs with Lady Callista and joined the gentlemen for breakfast. Lady Sophia normally requested a tray in her room like Lady Chalcombe and cousin Almira. Madelaine thought her father and Edward looked rather tired, but as both seemed cheerful she said nothing. After breaking her fast she changed into her riding habit before the men went on their shooting expedition. A number of gentlemen had arrived either on horseback or having driven themselves. Some of gentlemen had brought gun dogs with them. Madelaine came out to wave the gentlemen off and the dogs rushed to attract her attention. Soon she was surrounded by a bevy of wagging tails.

  Henri appeared and spoke briefly to Edward as Lewis and another footman served mulled wine to the gentlemen who had congregated for the shooting party, before they all went shooting. Julian had gone ahead with a group of farm-workers who would act as beaters. The hunting party set off with the dogs called to order by their masters. The walk to the northern woods was only just over a mile from the Manor, but Edward found that his leg was hurting him in the cold as they walked and found he was limping more than usual. They passed the Doric folly, where a wagon was being unloaded by a number of servants who were setting up buffet tables and chairs under Jenkins’ instruction. Edward smiled to himself; Henri understood how these things should be done. The promise of venison stew and spiced hot cider for luncheon would take the chill off the morning’s expedition in the wintry weather.

  Lady Chalcombe was late appearing for their ride, but Madelaine continued with some embroidery while she waited, conversing politely with cousin
Almira. Lewis had been asked to inform Lady Chalcombe, she was seated in the drawing room sewing. Just before the clock struck half past eleven, her Ladyship appeared fetchingly attired in a dark grey habit decorated with black braid and wearing a stunning lavender hat with curling black plumes. Madelaine put away her sewing and picked up her hat, gloves and riding crop. They went together to the stables where their horses were being walked by the grooms, Lady Chalcombe chatting merrily as they walked.

  Lady Chalcombe’s chestnut mare was a placid beast, but the dappled grey who was tossing her head was a spirited animal. Circe made several attempts to kick out at one of the grooms who was standing slightly too near. The head groom boosted Lady Chalcombe into her saddle and offered to saddle up a quieter mount for Madelaine. Madelaine walked to Circe’s head and took her bridle in her hand and spoke quietly to the mare, while she tossed her mane. The stable dog, a huge wolfhound of indeterminate parentage, who acted as guard dog, sat at her feet as she crooned quietly to the restive mare. The dog’s huge jowls rested on her hip as his eyes looked up longingly at her. The grey quietened and shivered slightly and Madelaine reached down and stroked the rough furred brindle head staring up at her.

  Then she detached the leading rein from Circe’s head collar and tossed it to a groom before vaulting nimbly into the saddle. Circe pawed the ground and tossed her head, but Madelaine’s voice quietly soothed her. Madelaine checked the dowager was comfortably seated and then nudged Circe out of the stable-yard. One of the grooms hurriedly mounted a brown gelding and followed at a discreet distance behind. They set off towards the south gate, in the opposite direction to the shooting party. Madelaine settled Circe to an elegant trot and waited until Lady Chalcombe caught up with her pace. Circe waited quietly listening to Madelaine’s voice, as the wolfhound loped behind her heels.