Catherine however, a fading beauty in her mid-forties, felt neglected.
“It’s always business, business, business with him,” she complained querulously to her closest friend, Alice, who sympathised appropriately.
“And if he’s not at his desk, he’s away in London or discussing business with that young bobbit Woodburn.”
The latter was de Neufville’s personal assistant. Barely in his twenties, the blue-eyed stripling would accompany his master to all business functions and was his vade mecum in Bristol, Bath or London.
“And you should see him stripped for the bedchamber!” confided Catherine. “Bald as a coot without the wig. Belly sagging from the effects of porter! And two legs you might see on a pigeon!” she treacherously let slip.
Catherine would console herself in his frequent absences with shopping, entertaining a circle of lady friends with cards and gossip, or arranging musical interludes to fill in the longueurs of idle life.
She had heard of Thomas Linley and Hugh Wortley from the Bath social network and had arranged for them to play for her and a few friends. They were now a regular Thursday afternoon entertainment and Catherine became increasingly transfixed by the late adolescent Hugh with his fine wig, tight breeches, handsome face and the shining radiance of youth. He had the bloom of a sixteen-year-old, clean and taut with the early makings of a strong young man.
Enticingly tempting for a woman of a certain age.
“Oh please come and play for me again next week,” she clapped. She put on a little girly voice. “It is my birthday and no one has planned anything special for me. I am such a poor neglected girl,” she pleaded.
Thomas Linley regretted that he could not attend owing to a prior commitment for his father in London.
Hugh, however, agreed to the request and presented himself in the private salon of the house on Queen Square the following Thursday. He was surprised to find that he was alone with Mrs de Neufville.
“I wanted a special private concert only for me,” she whined. “I think I deserve one, don’t you?”
He played a short selection of pieces including the solo part from Handel’s A Major violin sonata whilst being watched admiringly by Catherine.
“You play beautifully. Come. Stand over here near the light,” she said, indicating the shaft of sunlight from the casement over the chaise longue and across the floor. “I want to study your technique closely.”
Hugh dutifully moved his music stand to within touching distance of Catherine. She tilted her head upwards as he played and her eyes half closed, like a cat.
“Now, shall I accompany you?” she asked, in a slow voice.
“Do you play? Of course. That would be excellent. What do you play?”
Catherine ran her hand slowly up and down his thigh and looked at him challengingly.
“Oh, I am more than passable with the flute. Perhaps you should just play on and I will come along with you.”
She continued to stroke his thigh and Hugh, although playing, breathed hard as he felt her hand straying onto the buttons of his breeches. He looked enquiringly at her as he took an intake of breath. She looked up at him lasciviously.
“Keep playing. I have given instructions not to be disturbed. Let me just see if I can remember my fingering exercises.”
She slowly unbuttoned his breeches, slowly so that he would not take fright. He sprang free, erect and hard. He struggled to focus his mind on the music. She employed two hands expertly, all the while stroking and looking up at him until with a gasp he puddled into her hands whilst she expertly cupped him. After wiping her hands on a napkin she stowed him away and buttoned him up, giving him an arch smile.
“Yes, I believe I did remember all of the notes. I am sure I will remember my birthday as I hope you shall. But we must keep our little duet to ourselves.”
She looked earnestly at Hugh who swallowed and nodded.
“And perhaps next week when you come and play for me again we can move on to more intricate pieces?”
She lifted her eyelids languorously then stood up and gave him a kiss on the cheek whilst straightening his tunic.
“I shall expect to see you again here at the same time next week.” She placed a finger on his cupid bow lips. Hugh, stunned with the events of the afternoon simply said, “Yes Mrs de Neufville.”
He left.
Catherine watched his lithe limbs from behind as he left the room with his violin and music. Her lip curled animalistically.
CHAPTER TEN
Maundy’s death was exactly as Dr Chevalier had predicted. Progressively his functions shut down until he could no longer move, swallow or speak. Only with his eyes could he register his gratitude as Faith and Constance took turns to minister to him.
Thomas Chilvers had become a regular visitor. Before Maundy became incapacitated, Chilvers was deferential and solicitous towards him and Faith. The latter actively disliked him but she had decided that she would honour her father’s wish to marry. She was also aware that their financial status was inextricably bound up with Chilvers’ Bolivian silver mine venture. Without warming to him, Faith was formally polite.
Occasionally Chilvers would call requiring a signature from Maundy on share certificates, contracts and records of financial transactions, although even signing became an increasing burden on him.
Maundy had called Faith in to him before terminal decline had taken its grip.
“I have asked Thomas to arrange your marriage, my dear. He is a good man although I do see that there is no passion on your side. But that will come. It is my dearest wish that I see you safely married before I join my Verity.”
*
And so it happened, a joyless and functional occasion at St Ermin’s Church with the requisite numbers present only. Chilvers immediately moved into the house in Bloomsbury.
On her wedding night at the age of twenty-one, Faith understood what her duty was. Chilvers appeared, somewhat the worse for wear with drink. She lay in the canopied bed in her nightgown and watched warily as he undressed. The tone he had used to her when in the same room as Maundy had changed into an angry snarl.
“Now you are my wife you will do as I say. Do you understand?” he demanded, gripping her wrist.
She nodded, frightened.
“And you understand that when he dies his property may pass to you but then to me. You understand I am now master of this house? And remember that you are but a reclaimed half-caste.”
She nodded again.
Unbuckling his belt with one hand he pulled back the bedclothes with the other. Gripping her arm painfully, he threw her over onto her belly and lifted her nightdress. The copulation was impersonal, perfunctory and searing. When he had finished, he left with a parting sullen scowl.
“And remember that your duty now is to me and you would do well to keep details of any marital matters between us alone. Do I make myself clear?”
He did not need to wait for an acknowledgement from Faith, who was weeping quietly, the bleakness of her life smothering her.
*
Dr Chevalier came for the end. He sat with Maundy as his laboured breathing slowed. He gently administered a few drops of some fluid into Maundy’s mouth and turned to a softly weeping Faith.
“I do not think he is in any pain, but that will ease any suffering or distress. It is tincture of laudanum and will make his last moments more bearable, poor fellow.”
As Chevalier had predicted, Maundy’s body progressively shut down until his breathing was barely perceptible and finally ceased entirely.
Chevalier left, placing a gentle hand on Faith’s shoulder whilst whispering a few compassionate words.
At the funeral, several days later, Faith was touched to see so many musicians, former pupils and patrons to whom the tall man with the permanent half-smile had been a friend, tutor and pleasure-give
r. Faith played a mournful and affecting farewell on the Italianate violin. The congregation sat transfixed and emotional as the deep, sad notes resonated around the church. The violin was also taking its elegiac leave of its creator.
*
Chilvers wasted no time in asserting his dominance over the household. He implemented a set of rules covering the regimentation of mealtimes, pathological attention to cleaning routines and a requirement for absolute silence when he was about his business in the upstairs study, which he had requisitioned. Entry to this room was only by invitation.
Faith was instructed that she would not be playing her violin in public again and that her meetings with Thomas Drinkwater for music-making were to cease forthwith.
Constance was summarily dismissed. Faith’s understandably cowed dissent was airily waved away.
“She is old and no longer nimble and her standards are not what I require. I will be instructing new maids to my own specifications. You will secure a cook and scullery maid. Now please leave as I am dealing with important financial matters.”
It was left to Faith to console a tearful Constance and provide a letter of reference, although her chances of securing another position were limited.
*
Chilvers had chanced upon the investment in the Bolivian silver mine whilst working as a clerk at Maundy’s bank. He had been present at a meeting with an exotic foreign client styled Baron Vicente Santiago Alvarado. He claimed excellent South American connections, letters of introduction from ambassadors and had banked a sizeable deposit as a token of good faith. Chilvers had surreptitiously expressed his personal interests in the scheme as he was showing him to the door. A private meeting had ensued at which the Baron laid out his prospectus.
“It is an untapped silver mine in Las Canos, Bolivia. I have the entire mineral rights – see here the papers.” He waved some thick documents tied with red legal tape. “There is a local agent in place who will provide labour. The shipping will be contracted as soon as the excavations prove productive but I have seen the mine and the seams are virtually on the surface. I need a few investors to cover initial costs although they will be given a signed share certificate, backed by a reputable South American bank as security. And of course the company will begin paying a dividend of four shillings in the pound annually. If you wish that dividend can be paid immediately every month following investment.”
Chilvers sniffed an opportunity to break away from his modest roots and become wealthy. Lacking capital, he had persuaded Maundy that this was an opportunity not to be missed. The latter had taken out a loan on the entire value of his house in Bourdon Street of around £700. But with a guaranteed annual dividend of £140 and the real prospect of capital appreciation in the value of shares, the scheme offered security for Faith.
From the inception of the plan it was but a short step to set the seal on the transaction by agreeing marriage between the two. Chilvers, who remembered Faith from Coram’s, had seen her in his visits to Maundy and was not unhappy with the idea of securing his fortune.
Now the first monthly dividend had been paid and Chilvers congratulated himself on his brilliance. The Baron sent monthly updates on the progress of the mine coupled with increasingly optimistic forecasts of the price of silver and the putative capital appreciation in each share. Chilvers, who had long since resigned his position at the bank, wasted no time in acquiring the trappings of a gentleman; silk shirts, Spanish leather boots and, as a gesture towards the source of his new wealth, a silver-topped cane.
He assumed total control of all household matters and accounts. The bills for necessities that Faith required in order that she be dressed as a lady were overseen, controlled and monitored by Chilvers. He would challenge any unnecessary frippery.
In the meantime, although to Faith’s private relief, physical relations between them had ceased. They slept in separate bedrooms and Chilvers treated her with an icy formality, although affecting endearments in the company of others.
Chilvers also approached Mr Falaise, the Governor of Coram’s, for maids to replace Constance.
“It would be a good start in life for them. Of course they will be responsible to my wife Faith, your former pupil, who will ensure they are treated fairly and given sound discipline and learning,” he oozed to the Governor.
Chilvers dismissed the first two girls proposed: Elizabeth, a plumpish girl (‘Rather homely and a little too quiet for me’) and Alice, a plain girl (‘Very pleasant but perhaps a little too “country” for our purposes and does not seem very robust.’).
However, he was fulsome about two pretty girls, Winnie and Sophie, both aged nearly fourteen.
“Thank you, Governor, I will see to it that their development is satisfactory.”
He introduced the two girls briefly to Faith and said that he would personally oversee their routines as they needed a firm hand, preferably that of a man, at the outset.
The two were established in a spartan room at the top of the house, up a flight of stairs from Chilvers’ private quarters. Faith directed the work of the cook and the scullery maid and rarely saw Winnie and Sophie, whose work was supervised directly by Chilvers. On occasions she sat with one or other of the girls. They seemed unnaturally quiet and unresponsive, their eyes downcast.
“How do you find your situation here?”
The girls looked at each other anxiously until Winnie nodded to Sophie who replied.
“Thank you very much, mistress. Yes, we are grateful for the positions.”
“Come girls,” said Faith, smilingly. ”There is no need for such formality. When I first came from Coram’s, I was just like you. Constance who was here before you used to say ‘The cat’s got that girl’s tongue’, but it was not long before I felt at home and here I am now all grown and mistress of the house. One day I hope you shall be similar but I want you to feel that this is your home now. Shall you try?”
The girls looked at each other again and nodded, obediently but bleakly.
*
One morning there was a tremendous rattling of the front door. The scullery maid opened it to a large man in a cloak waving a piece of paper. He asked for Chilvers. The maid quickly summoned Faith, who asked his business.
“I am a clerk from Hinge, the solicitors and lawyers to Baron Alvarado. I have an urgent draft here that needs signing before the banks close at three o’clock.”
Faith left him at the door and took the papers. Mindful of Chilvers’ injunction not to be interrupted, she hesitated at the door of his office before knocking and entering, in view of the apparent urgency of the matter.
She looked down as the papers as she went in.
“I am sorry to interrupt you sir, but—”
She looked at a scene she could not readily absorb. Chilvers, red in the face and frowning, was wielding a rush cane. Bent over the desk was a naked Sophie sobbing quietly. Weals were visible on her buttocks and legs.
Chilvers turned angrily.
“I gave you strict instructions never to interrupt me here!”
Hesitatingly, Faith continued.
“A man. Solicitors. He must have a signature immediately.”
Chilvers snatched the papers from her and threw them on the desk. Sophie stood up, covering as much of her nakedness as she could.
“I will deal with those anon. Now, you girl,” angrily addressing Sophie, “let that be a lesson to you and ensure that my standards are followed. Do I make myself clear?”
Clutching her clothes, Sophie sobbingly nodded and left.
Chilvers realised that at least some minimal justification was required as Faith continued to look at him quizzically.
“Wretched girl. Spilt wine over some important papers. Totally unrepentant. Needed a lesson. Won’t do her any harm. Must maintain standards,” he said, excusing his actions with a dismissive hauteur.
Faith loo
ked at the floor and said softly, “The girls are young and they are learning as I had to do when first I left Coram’s. I beseech you, sir, to make some allowance for their inexperience.”
Chilvers, not looking at her simply said, “I will be the judge of standards in this household. Now I need to deal with these urgent matters.”
Faith made as if to speak again.
“Alone, and undisturbed,” said Chilvers, waving in the direction of the door.
After Faith had left, he scanned the papers brought so urgently to his attention. They were a call from the Baron for further capital. A second mine had been purchased in Bolivia and there was an opportunity for the original shareholders to invest a similar sum to their original outlay and double their profits.
Chilvers knew this was an opportunity too good to miss and mentally mapped out a plan to borrow the money from the bank. After all, paying the bank interest of, say, ninepence in the pound in order to receive four shillings in the pound was a deal that only a dolt would miss.
He signed the papers and had them delivered to the clerk at the door.
Faith engineered an opportunity to speak to Winnie and Sophie whilst Chilvers was out one day about his business. The girls were clearly under some duress not to be forthcoming about their treatment. Looking at each other for a signal as to how far to respond to Faith’s questions, Sophie would only venture, “The master has strict standards and we are here to serve.”
Their incident in the office faded.
However, within a year Sophie was visibly, shockingly and shamefacedly pregnant.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The fashion for sporting elaborate wigs in the 1760s percolated down to aristocratic ladies and thence to those of lesser stations.
Edward Wortley had sub-contracted the rather artisan and tedious business of making and selling hairpieces and now was finding ways to amuse himself by channelling his wealth into furnishing his fine Georgian house in the King’s Circus in Bath. A series of enfilade rooms were decorated with ornate plasterwork, illusionistic paintings and wood carvings.
The Violin Page 7