The Reluctant Bride

by Meg Alexander

  'My dear, the landlord will see you to the coach,' he murmured. 'I shall be with you in a second.'

  His companions spun round as India turned away. She felt humiliated. It was clear that he had no intention of introducing them to her. Was he ashamed of her? She glanced down at her sombre clothing, unrelieved by ornament. Compared with the stunning creature so recently in Isham's arms she felt like a bedraggled crow. Even so, it showed a want of courtesy on his lordship's part, and it had surprised her.

  He was as good as his word. India was barely settled in the coach with a fresh brick at her feet and the rug tucked round her before he joined her and gave the office to his coachman.

  She did not speak to him. She could not trust herself to treat him with civility when he had shamed her in front of his friends.

  Isham appeared to find nothing amiss. 'Are you ready to do battle with Briggs?' he asked with a smile.

  'I am.' India relapsed into silence.

  'Oh dear, now I am in disgrace.' With his usual quick understanding he had seized at once upon the reason for her annoyance. 'The young lady is not someone you would care to know,' he told her quietly. 'I could not...would not introduce you.'

  'You seemed to know her very well...' India replied in haughty tones.

  'My love, did I not know you better I might think that you were jealous!' His eyes were twinkling with amusement. 'And no...she is not the opera-dancer.'

  India flushed scarlet. 'I did not think so for a moment,' she said untruthfully. 'And you, sir, are certainly not mealy-mouthed.'

  'Have I shocked you? I had not thought it possible!' Isham looked at her averted face and relented. 'She and young Stillington are...er...close friends,' he continued. 'Under the circumstances I could not make him known to you.'

  'I see.' India felt a little mollified. 'She is very beautiful.'

  'Quite ravishing!' he agreed. 'And also very expensive...'

  India coloured again. 'I beg that you will not go on,' she murmured. 'I mean, I know that gentlemen have their...er...friends, but it is no concern of mine.'

  'Really?' Isham looked at her with interest. 'That is a very liberal attitude. Clearly, you have given the subject some thought. How refreshing! Won't you honour me with your views upon the matter?'

  His casual tone annoyed her, and she stiffened. If he wished for her views he should have them. 'I am told that fidelity is unfashionable,' she said coldly. 'Gentlemen may please themselves, and as for wives...? Well, once the heir has been provided one may take a lover...' If she had hoped to anger him she had succeeded.

  Isham sat bolt upright. 'You may disabuse yourself of that idea!' His lazy manner had vanished. 'Is this your notion of marriage?'

  'No, it is not!' India recoiled. Something in his look had frightened her, but she attempted to recover her composure. 'Yet, my lord, I'll admit that we cannot compete with such as Mr Stillington's friend.'

  Isham's expression changed. 'What a goose you are! She cannot hold a candle to you! Have you no idea of your own beauty?'

  India stared at him in disbelief.

  'Oh, come!' he said impatiently. 'Will you believe that paint and fine feathers make the woman?'

  'They help,' she told him, unconvinced.

  'Nonsense! One day I shall convince you...' He paused as the coach drew to a halt. 'We have arrived, I think. Heavens, what a place!'

  India could only agree with him. They had drawn up beside a long, low, brick-faced building sadly lacking in windows.

  'It looks like a prison,' she whispered.

  'We shall not be long.' He handed her down as the groom rang the bell. 'You are quite sure that you wish to be present?' he asked. 'If you prefer I will deal with this alone.'

  'No!' she told him quietly. 'I want to see for myself.'

  'As you wish!' He followed her inside.

  They found themselves in an open hall which did not boast a stick of furniture. India shivered. The cold indoors chilled her to the marrow, but the woman who came towards them clearly did not notice it. She was short and plump, small-featured, clad in innumerable shawls, and smelling strongly of gin. As she reached them she sank into a low curtsey.

  'Such an honour, my lord!' In that moment the beady eyes missed nothing. India was aware that every item of her clothing had been noted and priced. She faced the woman squarely and stuck out her chin.

  'Briggs is here?' Isham wasted no time upon civilities.

  'Awaiting your lordship's pleasure, sir. If you will come this way...' The woman moved ahead of them and opened a doorway at the far end of the hall.

  The contrast was striking. Here an enormous fire burned merrily in the hearth, beside which a small thin man was helping himself from a steaming bowl of punch.

  'You will take refreshment, sir?' The woman looked hopefully at his lordship, clearly disposed to spend a pleasant hour in such exalted company.

  'I thank you, but no, ma'am.' Isham's civility was such as to be insulting. 'We are here upon a serious matter.' A hard eye rested upon the unfortunate Briggs, who had risen to his feet.

  'Briggs, is it not?'

  'That's right, your lordship, and at your service.' The man made an obsequious bow.

  'I doubt that, Briggs. I doubt it very much.' Isham turned to the workhouse matron. 'You have dealings with this man?'

  'Yes, my lord. Such a help to us, he is! When the childer are of an age to earn a living Briggs here takes them off our hands.'

  'I see. How many children has he taken from you in the last six months?'

  'Sir. it's hard to say.' The matron considered for a moment. 'We do try to keep a tally, but it ain't so easy when they comes and goes so fast.'

  'Then Briggs may have a better idea?' His lordship transferred his attention to the sweep.

  'Well, sir, it's that 'ard to tell. These young 'uns comes and goes, you know. They comes and goes...'

  'And where do they go, Briggs?'

  For the first time Briggs scented danger. This polite gentleman was mild of manner, but there was something about him which did not encourage ease of mind.

  'Poor creatures, most of 'em,' he announced. 'Too weak to stand up to the work. T'aint surprisin', sir. Orphings, most of 'em, or cast off by their parents with too many mouths to feed. It's right sad!' He shook his head. 'Right sad!'

  'You are right! Are you telling me that we shall find them in the churchyard?'

  Briggs pursed his lips and nodded.

  'Yet there must be some who do not succumb?' Isham suggested pleasantly. 'What of them?'

  Briggs was undeceived by the charming manner. This swell had come here for a purpose, and the lady was looking daggers. She'd be at the back of it. He had his own opinion of females who took it upon themselves to interfere in matters which were none of their concern. None of this showed in his servile bowing.

  'Poor critters, most of 'em, I say again, but cunning little varmints, in spite of all. Dooty is unknown to 'em. Why, sir, you'd think that they'd be grateful to be given work, but no such thing!'

  'Grateful!' India turned upon him with flashing eyes. 'Must they be grateful to be thrust into a burning chimney and forced aloft with pricks and prodding?'

  Briggs gave her an inimical look. Had she been alone he'd have sent her to the right about, but the threatening presence of her companion caused him to think better of any attempt at insolence.

  'How else must I persuade 'em, ma'am?' he whined. 'A poor man 'as to earn a living, and these lads is lazy critturs. You never 'eard such moans and cries as they give way to when I arsks 'em to obey their master.'

  'Are you surprised?' India cried hotly. 'I am tempted to pluck a brand from the fire here and give you a taste of your own medicine.'

  'No call for that, miss!' The sweep removed himself as far away from her reach as possible. He was in no doubt that she would carry out her threat. 'I 'ope I am a reasonable man, but chimneys must be swept. And it ain't agin the law to use these childer, as 'is lordship 'ere will know.' He shot a triu
mphant glance in Isham's direction.

  'You are quite right, Briggs. The law is clear and the penalties for breaking it are severe.' Isham's tone was silky smooth. 'You know ft well, I see, so you will be aware that murder, for example, will lead you to the gallows.'

  'Murder?' Briggs paled. 'Nay, my lord, you shan't lay that charge at my door. My lads is 'ere, as you may see for yourself. Fetch 'em, Em'ly!'

  The matron hurried away, anxious to remove herself from a situation which promised to turn ugly. When she returned she thrust two small boys into the room and prepared to dart away.

  Isham would have none of it. 'Come forward, madam,' he said firmly. 'Pray take a seat. I have some questions for you.' His eye rested upon the terrified urchins, neither of whom were eight years old. 'Did these children come from here?'

  'No, your honour.' The matron was relieved to be able to deny all knowledge of any misdemeanour committed by the sweep. 'These lads are from the orphanage. We don't take 'em under nine years old.'

  Beside him Isham heard India gasp. He turned again to the sweep. 'How long have you had these boys?' he asked.

  'Not above a week, my lord. If they be sickly it's nowt to do wi' me...' Briggs smirked. His native cunning had come to his aid once more. The lads were filthy, but that was in the nature of the job, and if they looked clemmed, well, he hadn't had time to feed them up, as he was ready to explain.

  Isham stopped his excuses with a lifted hand. 'What happened to your previous climbing boys?'

  Briggs was ready with his answer. 'Burned to death, I fancy, sir. When the factory was torched.'

  'And how did they come to be working there?'

  Briggs was wary now. So those two deaths were at the bottom of this. Still, he was in the clear. He hadn't set fire to the place himself, and he could not be held responsible.

  'The overseer took 'em on, my lord. They 'ad to 'ave work, you understand, and they wuz too big to be of use to me.'

  'A charitable creature, this overseer! Is he a friend of yours?'

  'I 'ardly knows the man.'

  'So he did not pay you for the children?'

  Briggs hesitated, cursing inwardly. Where had this swell come by his information? A lie formed upon his lips and then he thought better of it. He had no wish to be confronted by the overseer, and there had been a number of other witnesses to the transaction.

  'T'overseer might 'ave give me a copper or two, just for my trouble. I'd 'ad those lads for a full six months, trained 'em up, and treated 'em like my own.'

  India could contain herself no longer. 'Then it is God help your own,' she cried. 'Those boys are in such case at present that the younger child may not live.'

  'Sorry to 'ear it, ma'am. A tragedy...to be caught in the fire, and so young, at that.' Briggs assumed a mournful expression, but he was thinking fast. The young varmints must still be alive, but how had they come to the notice of these toffs?

  'They were not injured in the factory fire.' Isham had not raised his voice, but no one in the room was insensible to the underlying menace in his tone. 'Their injuries are of long standing. You have told us yourself that they were in your care for many months. Have you an explanation?'

  'Must have been injured in the factory,' came the swift reply.

  'In the course of a few days? No, that will not serve. I am speaking of neglect, starvation, beatings and the cruellest of torture. If the child dies you will appear before the magistrates on a charge of murder. In the meantime a lesser charge of cruelty will serve to keep you behind bars.'

  Briggs fell to his knees, babbling for mercy, but Isham strode to the door and summoned his groom. 'Take him in charge,' he ordered. 'The magistrate is expecting him.'

  There was a scuffle, punctuated by much cursing, but Isham's man had been chosen for his muscular build. The struggle was soon over.

  Now it was the matron's turn to beg for mercy. Her tears flowed freely as she tried to justify herself.

  'I didn't know how bad he was,' she wept. 'Sir, we are forced to send these children out to earn their bread if anyone will take them.'

  'Do you tell me that when they leave you your charges are in the best of health?' Isham demanded.

  'My Lord, you heard the sweep. Some of what he said is true. You should visit the orphanage if you doubt me. Babes are left on doorsteps, or in the church porch even in bitter weather. Others have been starved for years before they come to the notice of the parish. We can't save them all. And we can't afford the doctor.'

  'In future you will be able to do so.' Isham's voice had softened a little. 'Mrs Witham, is it not?'

  The woman nodded, drying her eyes with the corner of her apron.

  'Madam, in the future I intend to take a close interest in this place, and also in the orphanage. Miss Rushford, who is soon to become my wife, will also do so. I suggest that you place no more children for the present. The board of guardians, including ourselves, will interview prospective employers. They will also consider the suitability of those at present in charge.' He cast a significant look at the bottle of gin in evidence on the dresser.

  'Thank you, sir. What am I to do with the children here? Am I to return them to the orphanage?'

  'I think not. You will oblige me by washing them and giving them some food without delay. Sadly, we have not time today to inspect these premises, but we shall return.'

  With that dread promise Isham rose to his feet and ushered India out of the room, leaving behind him a much chastened Mrs Witham.

  India stopped him as he was about to hand her into the coach.

  'Oh, Anthony, should we have left the children with that dreadful creature? She may go straight back to the bottle...'

  'I doubt it, my love. I believe I made my views quite clear and she has had a fright. If she does not wish to be dismissed without a character she will change her ways.'

  'I hope so, but perhaps we should have looked about the workhouse. Heaven knows what horrors we might have found.'

  'I am aware of it. That was why I promised to return without giving her a date. I am persuaded that conditions will improve at once.'

  'And the orphanage?'

  'I have been there, India. There is...er...a complete change of management.'

  India gave him a warm smile. 'You do not waste much time, my lord.'

  'Not when my heart is set upon a certain course of action.' Isham twinkled at her. 'You have not wondered why I offered for you in such haste?'

  He knew at once that his words were a mistake. India retreated into her shell.

  'You offered for either of us, I believe,' she said austerely.

  'Why, so I did! I had forgot!' Isham returned to his normal teasing tone. 'Does it still gall you, India?'

  'It never did!' she replied untruthfully. 'I understand your motives, sir.'

  'Do you, my dear? I wonder!' He left it there and India did not pretend to understand him. A silence fell between them.

  India was the first to break it. 'What will happen to Briggs?' she asked.

  'He'll be left to cool his heels for a week or two. These cases are difficult to prosecute, you know. There are no specific laws to protect these climbing boys...'

  'But you told him...'

  'I told him that he might not murder them, which is true. As to a charge of cruelty which might lead to death...well...it is a fine point, and must be proved. The doctor will support the case, but even so...'

  'That is so wrong!' India was appalled. 'Why, the two we have just left are little more than babes. So you tell me that the law will not protect them? What can the Government be about?'

  'There are moves afoot to bring in a bill to prohibit the use of climbing boys. It may pass the Commons, but it will not pass the House of Lords.'

  'Your peers?' India did not trouble to hide her contempt. 'I must suppose that rich men take no interest in the young and helpless.'

  Isham was watching her closely. 'They have a strong self-interest in this matter, India.'

  'How c
an that be? There must be other ways of sweeping chimneys.'

  'There is another way. Let me tell you a story. Some years ago certain individuals formed a Society for Superseding Climbing Boys. We...they...offered a reward to the inventor of a machine which could replace the boys and girls.'

  'Girls too?'

  'Oh, yes, it is not unknown.'

  'And did anyone come forward?'

  'The prize was won by a Mr Smart. His machine is now in use throughout England.'

  'So where is the problem, sir?'

  'Mr Smart's invention works well on ninety-nine per cent of chimneys. The others, which it cannot reach, are in the country homes of the rich.'

  India stared at him in disbelief. 'You believe that the Lords would defeat a bill to outlaw this wicked practice for the sake of a few chimneys?'

  'Nothing is more certain. My friends assure me of it.'

  'Then I despise the pack of you!' India felt close to tears.

  'Steady on, my dear. I did not say that I agreed with them.' Isham took her hand and held it in his own. 'I had hoped that you would think better of me.'

  India looked up at him. On this winter evening dusk was already well advanced and even within the close confines of the carriage she could not see the expression in his eyes.

  'Is it to take a lifetime to prove myself to you?' he asked softly. 'On this matter, it least, I thought we were agreed.'

  India did not withdraw her hand. She felt ashamed, and knew that she had been unfair. Isham had done all that she might have asked of him in preventing the sweep from injuring other children.

  'I'm sorry!' she said quickly. 'I spoke in haste. It is a fault of mine to lose my temper when I am upset.'

  'I have noticed,' he said drily. 'I begin to think that only when I anger you do I get your full attention.'

  'Oh, that is not true! I always know...I mean, I am always aware...' India stopped in confusion. She attempted to withdraw her hand from his strong grasp, but Isham would not release it.

  When he spoke there was a new warmth in his voice.

  'From the moment I first saw you I was aware of you, India. It was at Almack's, I believe. You sailed through that gaggle of silly girls like a graceful swan through a flock of geese. Since then I could always sense when you were in a room even when I did not see you.'