The Marriage Market

by Cathy Spencer

  Jemma smiled at her friend. “Thank you. But enough of me. Let’s talk of other matters for the remainder of the evening or I shall not be able to sleep tonight. Tell me about your latest conquests, Patricia. Which young men are flocking to your door these days?” Patricia smiled and glanced down at the table, and the conversation turned to family matters.

  Mr. Wovington, Sr. wrote that he would be pleased to be Mrs. Greene’s domestic supplier, and that he would be visiting Bath to discuss the lady’s plans in the near future.

  “Your father is very kind to come all the way from Salisbury, Mr. Wovington. I know that he is a busy man. I appreciate his taking time away from his own business to assist me with mine,” Jemma said in one of her frequent visits to James’ office. “When does he arrive?”

  “The post has outdistanced him by only two days,” James responded. “He has asked me to book rooms at the Black Swan Inn for Monday.”

  “Please don’t. Of course, he must stay with me while he is in Bath. I shall make him quite comfortable. We will be able to confer more privately and conveniently there.”

  “Are you sure that you will not be inconvenienced? My father has been a widower for many years and is rather set in his ways. He keeps early hours, for instance.”

  “Nonsense, your father is being most generous with me. Housing him is the least that I can do. And while your father is here, I hope that you will come and go from my home as freely as you would from your own. We must make the most of his time with us. Will that suit you?”

  James bowed. “I am at your service.”

  Jemma beamed. “Really, I am so very excited at finely making a beginning. We will really make it work, won’t we, Mr. Wovington?”

  James smiled back at her. “Yes, Mrs. Greene, I am confident that we will.”

  James and Jemma met Mr. Wovington’s coach on the day of his arrival. It was a warm summer day, and while other people arrived looking travel-worn and dusty, Mr. Wovington looked immaculate. The small, spare man stepped down nimbly from the vehicle and bowed over Jemma’s hand, every silvery-blond hair in place as he doffed his gleaming hat.

  “Mrs. Greene, how kind of you and James to meet me. It has been some time since we’ve met, hasn’t it? I am glad to see you under happier circumstances. A new beginning, eh, my dear?” Turning to James, he said, “And how are you, my boy?”

  “Very fit, thank you, Father. You look none the worse for your travels. How was your trip?”

  “Travelling by post is never as comfortable as riding in one’s own carriage, but it gets one there with a minimum of fuss. The accommodations were adequate.”

  “Speaking of accommodations, Mr. Wovington, there has been a change in plans,” Jemma said. “I coerced your son into foregoing your reservation at the Swan in favour of staying with me.”

  Mr. Wovington frowned at his son before turning to the lady. “Nonsense, Mrs. Greene, I would not dream of inconveniencing you with a houseguest when there is so much to be done.”

  “I disagree, sir. It is quite the most efficient way of conducting our business together. We can be at each other’s disposal all day and evening. Your son has promised to dedicate himself to my affairs while you are in town, and will even take his meals with us. Come, it is all settled.”

  Mr. Wovington bowed. “Mrs. Greene, I will defer to your wishes. James, kindly have the coachman forward my baggage to Mrs. Greene’s address.”

  The older gentleman took Jemma’s arm and walked her to her carriage while his son made the arrangements. James joined them at the carriage, and they proceeded to Mrs. Greene’s residence.

  Once they arrived, Mr. Wovington paused outside on the sidewalk to gaze around the neighbourhood. “Quite a respectable area, Mrs. Greene. Impressive, but not so grand as to make your associates feel out of their element.”

  “I am glad that you approve of my location, Mr. Wovington. But do come inside out of the heat.”

  Jemma’s butler admitted them and took the men’s hats and gloves while Jemma spoke to her maid. “Please come into the sitting room and make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen. I have ordered some lemonade.” She led the way into a room painted an airy blue and white with lacy drapes softening the sun’s glare. They made themselves comfortable on two chintz-covered sofas.

  “Do you visit Bath very often, Mr. Wovington?” the lady asked.

  “I come now and then, Mrs. Greene. My former sister-in-law resides on the outskirts of town, plus there are some distant cousins living here, too. And business brings me on occasion. Personally, however, I prefer Salisbury. My people come from there, and I prefer being a big fish in a small pond, as it were. But I agree that you have a fine business opportunity here, and with some effort, I believe that you can make a success of it.”

  The maid came in bearing a pitcher of lemonade and glasses and placed them on the table beside Jemma. She left and returned a few minutes later with a plate of sandwiches, passing them to the gentlemen while Jemma poured the lemonade.

  “Flemmings Fabric Importers will be my major competition,” Jemma commented.

  Mr. Wovington nodded his head. “Yes, they have been supplying the stores here for many years. The goods they deal in are quite adequate, but the ladies must visit London or Paris to purchase anything finer. I can supply you with the staples, of course, but your European connections will supply the more exotic items. The continentals still have the upper hand in that.”

  Jemma smiled. “Yes, I mean to accommodate those women who are unable to afford a trip to the continent, but wish to appear as if they had. There is nothing like some Parisian frippery to bolster a lady’s confidence.”

  “How do you propose to begin, Mrs. Greene?” Mr. Wovington inquired.

  “Your son and I have already discussed which shops to approach first. I had hoped that we could start our visits tomorrow, after you have had a day to settle in and rest after your travels.”

  “What do you say, my dear, to a carriage ride this afternoon to spy out the shops? Then we can spend the evening discussing our plans for tomorrow.”

  Jemma turned to James. “Are you free to join us this afternoon, Mr. Wovington?”

  James wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I’m afraid that I have some pressing business to complete this afternoon, but I am free to join you this evening. I have cleared my obligations for the remainder of the week and will be at your disposal.”

  “Thank you. You can join us over dinner to discuss our observations.”

  “That would suit me very well.”

  “Wonderful. We have a beginning for our campaign. Just give me a few moments to freshen myself, and I will be at your disposal, Mrs. Greene,” said Mr. Wovington, Sr., springing to his feet. Jemma had the butler show the gentleman to his room, and walked James to the door herself.

  Later that evening, the three had finished dinner and were settled comfortably with some cognac in Jemma’s sitting room. The lady had thrown fabric samples over the backs of the couches and chairs and had spread an assortment of gloves, hosiery, and ladies’ undergarments across a table. Neither gentleman seemed the least bit embarrassed surrounded by this intimate feminine apparel.

  Mr. Wovington was saying, “I am of the opinion that we should tackle Carleton and Madame Suzanne first. They have the grandest shops. Once we have won them over, the other stores will feel lucky to do business with you. Show them your fall and winter fabrics. The samples that you imported from Paris are excellent, and the lace from Milan is very fine. I would also promote the corsets and petticoats. Umberto’s work is always reliable.”

  “Yes, he is an artist, and the ladies who work in his shop are excellent,” Jemma murmured, bent over an extravagantly tucked and pleated petticoat. “Have you seen the petticoats yet, Mr. Wovington? I mean, Mr. James Wovington.”

  “You had better start calling me James, Mrs. Greene,” the gentleman responded. “Otherwise, it will be too confusing with Father here. And no, I have not seen them.”

 
; “Have a look at this, James,” Jemma said with a smile, handing over a delicate item trimmed with pink ribbon and black lace. “And you must call me Jemma.”

  James examined the garment. “What a nice little confection,” he said. “You are right. You will not find better even in the most fashionable of London shops.”

  “I have found the smartest sample boxes and paper to display them in, too,” she replied. “Wrapping them up like Aladdin’s treasure will help to impress the shop owners.”

  “You’re right. Presentation is very important,” Mr. Wovington said, standing up to stretch his back. “So, we agree to tackle Carleton’s tomorrow morning and Madam Suzanne’s in the afternoon?”

  “Yes. I will send my card around to both establishments first thing in the morning.”

  “Very good, Mrs. Greene. And we also have the appointment to inspect the warehouse that Mr. Brown has to let. I believe that I can bargain him down a little on the rent if you agree to a full year’s lease. It’s a bit of a gamble, my dear, but I feel confident of your success if you can guarantee the European suppliers.”

  “I put my faith in them, Mr. Wovington. I can procure the fall and winter merchandise before summer’s end, and I plan to make a trip to the continent before Christmas to procure next summer’s shipment.”

  “Well, it appears that all is planned. You have done some excellent preparatory work.”

  “As I told your son, sir, I began making my plans some time ago, and I have had much time to bring this scheme to fruition. Plus, your son’s assistance in securing a reliable warehouse manager has been invaluable. I think that Mr. Edwards will do an excellent job, James.”

  “He is a trustworthy man with an eye for quality, and the wage that you have offered him will secure his fidelity. I agree with your policy of trying to get the best that money can buy.”

  “Yes, but I must still get my money’s worth, James. I am no spendthrift.”

  “No, I know that you are shrewd with your money,” he said with a smile. “Buy the best, but without waste. You were made for this business, Jemma.”

  “What a nice compliment,” Jemma said, also rising. “With you and your father helping me, I feel assured of success. Now, if you will excuse me, it has been a long day and I need to look my best for tomorrow – that is, if I can sleep tonight.” Impulsively, she kissed Mr. Wovington on the cheek and bent to kiss James, as well. “You cannot imagine how happy and excited I feel. Thank you, my friends, for helping me to make my dream come true.”

  James rose to his feet as his father took Jemma’s hand and raised it to his lips. James said, “Sleep well tonight, Jemma, and I will call at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  Jemma and the Wovingtons spent the remainder of the week visiting the better shops. Mrs. Greene was already known to them as a client of style and discernment; now she impressed them with her knowledge of the trade and her business acumen. The Wovingtons kept to the background after the initial visit to allow Jemma’s charm to work upon the merchants. However, when the bargaining began in earnest, the Wovingtons’ experience and reputations helped to sway the negotiations. After several visits, Jemma was at last able to procure orders for the fall.

  When Sunday came at the end of the second week, the trio enjoyed a well-deserved rest and spent the day out-of-doors. James rented a boat, and they spent the afternoon drifting languidly upon the river. When they were hungry, they came ashore to devour the picnic lunch that Jemma’s cook had prepared. Satiated, the men covered their faces with their hats and rested under a tree while Jemma fed crusts of bread to the ducks.

  “Mrs. Greene has done very well this week,” Mr. Wovington said, sitting up to watch her stroll beside the river.

  “Yes, she has made excellent progress, Father. You were shrewd as well as generous in joining her in this venture.”

  “I agree with you, James, but Jemma Greene means more to me than just a business opportunity. I think that she is quite a prize herself.”

  James lifted his hat and glanced at his father. “How do you mean, sir?”

  “She is a rarity, my son. Some females combine womanly allure with intelligence and ambition, but lack the traits that make for a comfortable wife. I believe that Mrs. Greene possesses all of these attributes. A man would have to go a long way to find a woman better-suited to both business and home life. She is a pearl of great value.”

  “Really, Father? You surprise me. I had no idea that you had personal feelings for her. Do you intend to act upon those feelings?”

  “Before I propose anything to Mrs. Greene, my boy, I want to know where your interests lie. Do you have a personal interest in the lady?”

  “She is an esteemed business associate as well as a friend, sir, but no more than that. To tell you the truth, I haven't really considered her in any other light.”

  “Why not, James? Have you heard anything against her?”

  “Nothing of the sort, Father. If I stop to think about it, I suppose Mrs. Greene just isn't my type. She's a little too serious for me. Besides, I am not looking for any permanent entanglement, yet.”

  Mr. Wovington snorted. “The lady is only four years your senior, James. She has enough seasoning to make her more interesting than some of the little ninnies I’ve seen you with, but is still young, fresh, and vigorous. I like her, Son. She has quality. I think that she is also wise enough to value a man in his personal and professional prime. I mean to speak to her.”

  “So soon, Father? Pardon me, but that is fast work. Do you really know her well enough for such a step?”

  His father lay back and contemplated a plump white cloud drifting slowly overhead. “I first met Mrs. Greene when her husband introduced us soon after their marriage. She was a lovely thing back then – charming, but rather cloistered. I ran into them at social functions after that, and we dined together occasionally. Then they lost their son. I was struck by her courage and dignity during that ordeal. I did not see her again until her return from Italy when I helped to close out her husband’s business, and I was impressed by the graceful creature she had become. And now we have spent this time together. Yes, I believe that I know Mrs. Greene well enough to appreciate her potential as a wife.”

  James watched Jemma climb the hill toward them. “When do you plan to speak to her, Father?”

  “I’ll be leaving for Salisbury by mid-week. I mean to speak to her tomorrow night. If we come to an understanding, I shall make arrangements for a wedding before the end of autumn. No sense in wasting time.”

  James murmured to himself, “Imagine, I could have a new mama by Christmas.”

  Jemma reached their resting place and smiled. “I see that you are both awake.”

  “Yes, my dear, and we have ignored your comfort for much too long while taking ours,” Mr. Wovington said, climbing to his feet with a groan. He offered a hand to his son, and dragged him to his feet. “Are you ready to go, Mrs. Greene?”

  “It has been a wonderful day, but I am ready for home.” They gathered up the blankets and picnic basket and strolled back to the boat.

  Mr. Wovington made an appointment to dine with Jemma at the best restaurant in Bath for the following evening. Jemma asked if James would be joining them, but Mr. Wovington said that he was otherwise occupied. When Jemma came downstairs to join her dinner companion on Monday night, she saw that Mr. Wovington had taken extra care with his appearance, his hair and his shoes gleaming. He pulled a magnificent bouquet of roses from behind his back and presented them to her with a bow. Jemma accepted them with a gasp and bent her head to inhale their sweet fragrance.

  “How beautiful. Thank you so much for the exquisite flowers.” She preceded him into the sitting room and placed the bouquet in a crystal vase. Pulling a pair of scissors from a drawer, she snipped two of the blooms from their stems. One she inserted into her upswept hair; the other she tucked into the gentleman’s lapel.

  “There, we are both quite splendid now,” she said with a smile.


  “My dear, you are never otherwise,” the gentleman responded, offering her his arm.

  They left the sitting room and walked to the front door. The butler handed Mr. Wovington his walking stick and hat while a maid draped Jemma’s silk shawl over her bare shoulders. Jemma instructed the maid to attend to the roses, and the couple descended the stairs to her waiting carriage.

  James had made plans to meet his father for lunch at his club the next day. Naturally, he was very curious to hear how his father’s evening had gone. Mr. Wovington was already seated in the smoking room when James arrived, precisely on time. They chatted about the weather and the rising price of muslin until the waiter had conducted them to a private table in the dining room and taken their order. Only then did James say to his father, “Well, sir, I am all ears. What did the lady say?”

  Mr. Wovington eyed his son for a moment. “Not what I had hoped, unfortunately.” James began to express his dismay, but his father interrupted him. “We had finished an excellent meal, and were enjoying a glass of wine when I told Mrs. Greene how highly I esteemed her company. I said that I had been widowed some fifteen years, and that I missed the companionship and comforts of a wife. I explained that I could provide very well for her, and that in the event of my predeceasing her, she would inherit an income that would sustain her more than comfortably for the remainder of her years. At first she smiled, but the longer I talked, the more frozen that smile became. Finally, I finished, and waited for her response.”

  “And what did she say?” James asked.

  “She said that while she had the highest respect and admiration for me, she could not accept my proposal because she had feelings for another man.”

  “Blast. You don’t say! Why, that is unexpected. Did she say who the man was?”

  At that moment, the waiter returned to place a plate of soup before each gentleman. Mr. Wovington placed his napkin on his knee and reached for his spoon as the waiter left. “Yes, James,” he said, taking a mouthful of soup, “she said that the man she has feelings for is you.”