“You seem to have Circe under control. I couldn’t handle her at all. She threw me over a gate and then bolted for home.”
“She’s a little nervous. She just needs to know who’s in charge. I doubt if she has been properly exercised for a while. Do you know what the dog is named? And do you have a direction you wish to go, Milady?”
“Our chief groom called him Gelert, which always appeared an overblown name for a dog with such a dubious pedigree. I understand despite his size he is a good ratter, he is certainly a good watch dog. No-one he doesn’t know gets past him. There are a couple of visits in the village I should make. Would you mind if we went to see a couple of our pensioners?”
“Not at all, but I think it might be better if I gave Circe a run to settle her down, before taking her into the village. Would you mind if I run her to the gate?”
The ladies pushed their horses into a canter, but Madelaine moved Circe into a gallop toward the side gate. As they reached the gate Madelaine did not pull up but sailed over the gate, moving on a little further down the lane leading to the village before reining in and moving back to the gate. Madelaine lifted the catch and swung the gate open manoeuvring the horse while opening the gate from the saddle. She waited for Lady Chalcombe and their groom to catch up. The wolfhound sat beside her as she waited, looking up adoringly. The visits to two of Chalcombe Manor’s retired employees were to confirm whether they wished to attend the Christmas Eve party and to arrange transport as they were no longer capable of walking the distance.
Madelaine ordered Gelert to remain with the horses when she dismounted and the dog seemed to understand her. The first pensioner, a venerable gentleman in his late seventies had been the Manor’s butler until ten years previously when he had to retire, because he was getting too slow on his feet. He lived with his widowed daughter and her two unmarried daughters. The ladies were welcomed into a pristine cottage and offered parsnip wine and fresh scones. Lady Chalcombe took the opportunity to catch up on old times with the august gentleman, who thanked her effusively for offering to send a carriage for him at noon in two days’ time. Madelaine quietly conversed with the three ladies of the house as their fat ginger cat sat purring upon her lap.
The second cottage, a little further down the street was home to a tiny old lady who had been seamstress at the manor and had retired not long before Edward’s father died. She lived alone with an elderly black-and-tan spaniel. Her cottage was also immaculate with her handiwork decorating the furniture backs, table cloth and walls where a surfeit of intricate samplers displayed a number of religious texts, giving Madelaine the impression the lady might be of the Methodist persuasion.
Although Peter’s words exhorting one to be ‘sober and vigilant to avoid the devil as a roaring lion,’ the lavish embellishment of ivy leaves and lilies did seem an inappropriate backdrop to their endeavour. Then their owner apparently saw no biblical deterrent to the party. Even though James’s declaration that “Blessed is the man that endureth temptation, for when he is tried he shall receive the crown” was set above the fire place. The old lady too was gratified to accept the offer of transportation to the Christmas Eve party at the Manor and chatted vivaciously to her ladyship, barely allowing her to get a word in.
Gelert had waited outside with the horses, but as soon as she was within the cottage the spaniel was demanding her to notice her, although the animal completely ignored her Ladyship. Having concluded their visits they remounted and rode through the village to the Church of Chalcombe St. Mary and then turned and returned to the grounds of Chalcombe Manor. Lady Henrietta chatted with Madelaine about their visits and how the animals had been attracted to her.
“Edward says you have not yet accepted his proposal. Although I don’t wish to increase the pressure you have been under to accept his offer. I would like you to know I think you will be the ideal wife for Edward and I could not be happier if you would become his bride.”
Madelaine mumbled in reply that she had no intention of marrying.
“I will not argue that matter Madelaine. If it had been my late step-son George I would simply accept your words as truth, but Edward has always been determined to get his own way. I have never known him to fail at anything he set his heart on. He can be very stubborn and very persuasive.”
They talked of other things as they returned to the Manor by the road and main gate. They took a detour past the dower house, where it was clear there was some considerable activity. Madelaine had a lot to think about as she reached the house. Lady Chalcombe had clearly accepted her as a daughter in law and saw their nuptials as a fait accompli. Madelaine climbed the stairs to her bedroom to change out of her habit. She entered the bedroom and was at once aware she was not alone. For a few seconds she prepared for flight or fight but then relaxed.
“I know there’s someone here, come out now,” she said. Her hand on the bell cord to summon assistance she now suspected was unnecessary.
A few shuffling movements and a muffled giggle greeted her as four young bodies crawled out from their hiding places. Three boys whose average age was probably ten and a young girl with dark auburn curls who might be a little older than the boys appeared. They were crumpled, but clearly from their costume they were the offspring of the Purcells and possibly Wynstanleys. With more detailed inspection Madelaine noted two of the boys had the reddish hair colour that must have been Sir Bardolph’s when younger and that they strongly resembled the girl. The other boy, the youngest of the group had black wavy hair and resembled his mother, Lady Sophia Wynstanley closely.
“So would you like to tell me Master Purcell,” looking at the largest boy, “what you are doing in my bedroom?”
Master Percival Purcell and the other boys looked shamefaced and said nothing. Miss Purcell was made of stronger stuff and declared, as Madelaine put down her hat, gloves and riding crop,
“Oh, you’re just as pretty as they said you were. We came to see the pretty lady. Are you going to be the new countess?”
After this the boys joined in to the conversation, all speaking at once, from which Madelaine ascertained they had overheard some of the servants discussing her and their hopes she would become the next Lady Chalcombe. The children having escaped from their nurses and governess, had decided to lie in wait for her in her bedroom.
“Well now you have seen me. You will be being sought for. It would be better if you return to the nursery before they turn the house upside down, searching for you. Then your parents are sure to discover your disappearance.”
“It’s not fair, everyone is having more fun than us. We get shut in the nursery and no one comes to see us, it is decidedly flat,” declared Percival Purcell.
“If we go back, will you come and see us?” Miss Purcell wheedled.
“Very well, if you go now I will come to the nursery after I have changed out of my riding habit.”
A couple of hours later Lady Sophia Wynstanley visiting her two sons in the nursery before going to change for dinner discovered Madelaine seated on the nursery floor with the youngest Purcell and her younger son seated upon her teaching the older children to play Scratch Cradle or Jeux de ficelle with a piece of string. Lady Sophia had been a little put out when her mother had written to inform her Edward wished to marry a penniless French émigré. She had done her best to make Madelaine feel unwelcome and to discourage the match especially when she discovered no proposal had actually been accepted.
It soon became clear to Lady Sophia, she was alone in her opinion and that everyone including her mother had come to believe her brother would be a lucky man, if she would accept his proposal. As her sons and the young Purcells chattered to her, of how Madelaine had been playing jackstraws with them and how they hoped to go for a walk in the grounds with her when the weather was fine. If even her children adored Madelaine who was she to stand against the tide? The two ladies excused themselves and headed to change their clothes once more.
“I’m sorry, Lady Madelaine, if I have ap
peared unfriendly. I am very fond of my brother and only wish him happy. I think I have made a mistake and you are just what he needs. Everyone expects the announcement of your engagement at the St. Stephen’s Day Ball and I hope you will agree to become Edward’s bride.”
While Madelaine had been playing in the nursery, there had been an unexpected arrival. Sir Horace Charrington, Lord Edward’s heir had arrived together with his valet and a mass of baggage. He had not been expected, as he had written in November to Edward stating his health would not allow him to make the trip. The Baronet had retired to his bedchamber looking ashen faced and exhausted by the journey and Louis was sent to check on him as soon as the shooting party returned.
Louis recommended Sir Horace rested through the night and did not make the attempt to join the party for dinner. He prescribed laudanum to help him sleep. For Madelaine, the pleasures of the countryside and her enjoyment of the children was forgotten, as she struggled to get through another dinner and evening being interrogated about her future plans. Madelaine ate little of Henri’s finest efforts and left the table hoping only for the evening’s end. She struggled to control her temper and remain polite in the face of the continued inquisition. Finally she could take no more and asked permission to retire but her father called her to his side.
“You have prevaricated enough, Madelaine. This situation cannot continue. You must accept my lord’s offer at the earliest opportunity. I had not thought you could behave so heartlessly to make him suffer like you are,” Louis sternly berated her
Chapter Nineteen - La Vérité
The evening dragged on for Edward. As host he was expected to stay up until the last guest retired to bed. The wound in his thigh had pained him since morning and had steadily worsened through the hunting party and the walk back to the Manor. He thought he had overstretched an under-used muscle and had tried to rest before dinner on his bed but it had only reduced the pain. He drank more than usual during the meal and had not been interested in eating. He played whist with Sir Bardolph against Louis and Julian and a small pile of florins and half guineas had accumulated at their elbows as his concentration had not been on the game.
After Madelaine and the other ladies retired, Henri appeared to take orders for a late supper and noticed Edward seemed a little flushed and moved as if in pain. He mentioned the matter quietly to his master, who informed him he had noted it, but declined to point out to their host that he had overdone it and had enflamed a nearly healed war wound. Louis pleaded tiredness and retired leaving Sir Bardolph and Sir Anthony to their supper and Edward to the brandy decanter, the level of which he had been responsible for substantially lowering. Although he had not been alone in indulging in these potations, he had been the largest consumer and Jenkins had replenished the decanter earlier in the evening when it had run low.
He was not obviously drunk, but the earl, who was usually a moderate drinker, was noted for his strong head. The servants noticed he was acting out of character, but were mostly unconcerned. Jenkins was too old a family retainer to not be surprised. When the other gentlemen retired and he was requested to bring a fresh bottle to Edward’s bedroom, he coughed and suggested perhaps my lord had had sufficient.
Edward apostrophised him as a “Misery-guts,” and bid him do as he was asked. Jenkins was more concerned as he watched Edward limp painfully up the stairs escorted by Timothy Griggs. He fetched the brandy and did not express his opinion that the earl would be better taking a sleeping draught and retiring to bed. Edward clad in a claret brocade velvet banyan, sat upon the sofa at the side of his bedroom and put his foot up as he tried to read the first canto of Childe Harold, but he was finding it difficult to concentrate.
He found the concept of Childe Harold “basking in the noontide sun disporting there like any other fly,” a singularly displeasing metaphor. Nor did he see why “one blast might chill him into misery,” if he was basking in the sunshine. He thought this Harold ungrateful for his advantages and far from patriotic. The remembrance of his patriotic injury that agonised his body, made him far less sympathetic than he might have been to Harold’s complaints and the brandy far less tolerant to my Lord Byron’s verses. He let the book fall to the floor and poured himself another glass of brandy, hoping soon he would feel drowsy and shut out the pain of the wound.
Madelaine was unable to rest when she reached her room. She had prepared for sleep, taking down her long, blonde curls, and plaiting them into two thick hip length braids. On top of this she wore a lacy night cap of her own manufacture. She had buttoned her nigh-trail tightly to her neck. It was a roomy garment made from thick flannel and over it she wore a dressing gown of navy plaid. Replacing either garment with a more flattering or fetching mode had never occurred to Madelaine as necessary. They were practical and warm but their sensible comfort did not assist Madelaine to sleep. Her thoughts were of how quickly time was passing and how everyone expected her and the earl to announce their engagement to marry at the ball which was only four days away.
Madelaine had hoped his family and friends would offer some resistance to help support her arguments, she was an unsuitable bride for the earl. Edward had made it apparent he would not withdraw his offer, without some genuine explanation for her refusal. He had begged her to confide in him her reasons. He was an honourable man and she believed he would keep his word if she told him the truth. She regretted telling him would greatly disappoint him in her character but she was sure if she did so he would understand her decision not to accept his proposal. It would be difficult explaining to Louis they had decided they would not suit, but that would be better than being bullied into a marriage, which would be doomed from the start.
As the house quietened and the house party settled into their beds, Madelaine walked up and down as she tried to decide what to do. She could see no alternative, but to reveal the true obstruction to her marrying him. She could only hope he would keep her secret and not drive her and Louis straight from his home. It had been easy to avoid having private conversation with the earl with the house so full. It would be better to get the conversation over for during the day there was every probability of their discussion being overheard.
Edward would now be alone in his room and despite the impropriety of visiting a man in his bedroom; Madelaine convinced herself he was a gentleman who would hear her out before making his decision as to how to deal with her. It took Madelaine some time to gather her courage before tip-toeing into the hall with her candle and walking the short distance to the earl’s bedroom. Madelaine was terrified someone would surprise her as she walked down the corridor. She reached the door and knocked quietly upon it. She was now hoping he would already be asleep and would not hear her knock.
“Enter,” slurred the earl “Plovett I told you I no longer...” Edward’s jaw hung open as he saw Madelaine enter and place her candle on a sideboard, before shutting the door carefully behind her.
“Madelaine what are you doing here?” said the earl definitely worse for brandy.
“I have to talk to you, Edward. You must promise me you will not tell my father what I say to you. Then I’ll try and explain why we cannot marry.”
“But I want to marry you Madelaine. You know how much I want you.” He staggered to his feet and limped towards Madelaine who was pacing the room. He took her in his arms and tried to kiss her but she shook off his embrace.
“You can’t marry me Edward. I told you I’m not fit to be your wife. I’m not pure. I am not a virgin.”
“You told me that you didn’t have a lover! Who is the bastard?”
“There is no one, I have no lover.”
“There has to have been a man for you to lose your virginity! I don’t understand why Louis promoted my suit if he knew you were not a virgin. He seemed to me to be an honourable man.”
“My father knows nothing of this. He must never know, you promised I could trust your confidence. We must explain we decided we would not suit.”
“So I am to lie to yo
ur father because you are a slut? I sought your hand in good faith believing you to be honest. For months I have burned for you and now you tell me you are not pure and refuse to name your lover. There is no reason why I should not sample what you have bestowed elsewhere. Your father has every right to know his daughter is not what she should be.”
“Edward, I’m sorry, you have every right to be angry. I’ll pack my things and leave at first light.”
“You’ll do no such thing. Unbind your hair and undress. I have behaved like a gentleman quite long enough.”
Edward stood and untied his dressing gown throwing it on the sofa. “Please Edward don’t make me do this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I hoped that you would try and understand…”
“Undress now Madelaine, or do I have to strip you myself?” Edward said his voice hard and angry.
Madelaine took off her night cap and unbound her hair, shaking it loose. She took off the dressing gown and unbuttoned her night rail, slipping it over her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Edward’s stomach lurched as he looked at her revealed. She was every bit as beautiful as in his fantasy. Her long blonde hair rippled in waves to her thighs. She was thinner than he had imagined her but her skin was white and luminous in the candlelight. The nipples of her small round breasts were tight and hard in the chill of the room. Madelaine looked down as Edward came towards her and embraced her, turning her face away unwilling to meet his eyes.
“Get into bed Madelaine.” She hurried to obey pulling the bedclothes up to her chin and turning on her side. Edward threw off his night-shirt and climbed in beside her, reaching to take her into his arms. Madelaine lay still as he touched her body and did not react, her face turned away from him.
“I do not want to do this Edward,” she said in a small voice.
The Fencing Master's Daughter Page 18