the alternative bride 10

 

Chapter 10

 

Henry Dauntry had an interview with his other stepdaughter which was painful for both of them, though not in the same way. He gazed on her and on his wife, both of whom chose to stand. They were not in the library, which was busy being emptied of its books. Dauntry had had to quickly empty a davenport of his personal letters, since it had been a piece specified by Jane; when Belwether went through the lady’s boudoir, Helen’s letters were just dumped out from the writing slope which had once belonged to Mary Henderson. The helpful maid, hoping for a place in the household of the new Viscountess Wintergreen, had pointed out which things had belonged to the old mistress.

Dauntry glared at his womenfolk, in his own sitting room.

“So, let me get this straight,” he snarled. “You, madam, encouraged your daughter to dally with her paramour, citing a marriage à la mode and anticipating that she would cuckold her husband by romping around acting the rantipole with his so-called friend.  To the extent that he caught them in our carriage, copulating with no more shame than a pair of cats in an alley. And I discover now that not only did you not discourage this behaviour, but condoned it!  Am I to assume you, too, entered a marriage à la mode with me, because I needed a mother for my son? How many paramours do you have, madam? Have you sold your daughter’s body to anyone else? Do I need to have you watched in case you are being swived by another man in my own marital bed? Or rather, in the marital bed I am permitted to use at the extent of the goodness of the heart of the girl you decided to treat as a charity brat, without finding out from me that she has her own monies? I assumed she had asked you for a raise in her allowance! And that leaves me questioning what happened to her allowance? Where did the five pounds a month I was withdrawing for her own purposes go?”

“I... I did not know it was for her,” said Helen.

“I told you, this was the allowance she was accustomed to have,” said Dauntry. “How many lovers have you had since we were married?”

“O... only two, and not in the house,” said Helen, trembling.

“There is one reason, and one reason only, that I am not going to drag you to the nearest market cross with a halter around your neck and sell you to the highest bidder after the manner of the countryfolk,” said Dauntry. “And that is that my son loves you.  He had better continue to have reason to see you as loveable, however, or you will be out of my household for the trouble and scandal you have brought upon me, and for your outright unkindness to Jane. I am not a man given much to sentiment, and I found her awkward, and I misinterpreted her calm assumption of ownership of the house as being a girl at that awkward age seeing a stepfather as an interloper. Not that she literally owned it. I regret that; but the only way I can make that up to the girl is making sure that she has everything she is entitled to.”

“But she shouldn’t have anything; I’m the pretty one,” said Madelaine, resentfully.

“Are you stupid, as well as morally profligate?” demanded Dauntry. “You ought to be with your husband; the one you chose by choosing his seed in you.”

“But he has a poky little apartment, and he isn’t allowed a wife there, and his father has cut off his allowance,” whined Madelaine. “I said I would ask if we could live here.”

“Oh, that would look fine, wouldn’t it?” said Dauntry, with heavy sarcasm. “A man who lives in the house now owned by his former best friend, who lost the friendship by swiving the wench who had been going to marry... lud, I am lost in a morass of pronouns, but do you really think Freddie could live in a house owned by Wintergreen?”

“I don’t see why not; if Wintergreen hadn’t made a fuss, Freddie would still have his allowance. And we could meet in Wintergreen House,” she added, resentfully.

“You have the brains of a gin-sodden whore from Covent Garden, as well as the morals,” snarled Dauntry. “Indeed, I’m not sure you don’t belong in some asylum for imbeciles!”

“Don’t talk to her like that!” cried Helen. “Isn’t it enough that that girl is stealing everything from us?”

“Helen! We stole, unwittingly, from her,” growled Dauntry. “And you have stolen from me, my trust. You will no longer go into society, but will remain at home, and we can economise by getting rid of some of Tommy’s servants as you can take over their duties. I have no more obligation to keep Madelaine, who has made her bed, cavorted in it with the abandon of a royal duke, and must cleave to her Freddy. I won’t feed her any more. It is up to him. And if he has no allowance, he must get a job, and if need be, so must she. And if she has no more skills than to lie on her back, well, that’s not my problem. You have both played me for a fool too long. Now get out; I’m sick of both of you. Madelaine can pack her valise to take to her husband.”

 

oOoOo

 

The Dauntrys were not the only ones who were unhappy. Freddie Vane had a royal verbal excoriation from his father.

“But it’s not as if Gerard cared about her,” said Freddie. “He just thought it was time he should marry, and she was suitable. I did him a favour; Gerard wouldn’t know how to awaken the passion of a girl of our class, he is such a cold fish.”

“You planted a cuckoo in his nest, you wretch! The wife to be of your supposed best friend!” roared his father.

“Well, we don’t know she’s with child; you can’t conceive the first time, and it was,” said Freddie.

“Yes, actually you can,” said his father. “And it throws doubt on the succession even if she did not conceive. He could probably have got away with running you through! But no, he paid for a special licence for you to marry the wretched female, but if you think I’ll fund you being a slugabed when you have a wife to feed, you are mistaken! What did you learn at university apart from drinking, whoring, and gambling?”

“Rowing?” said Freddie.

His father cuffed him.

“You’re a half decent driver; you could get a job driving a hackney carriage, or the mail,” he said. “Or use your boxing to be a bouncer at a knocking-shop, as you like associating with loose-lipped females.”

 

oOoOo

 

Arthur Whittington drifted out of the Laudanum dreams in a considerable amount of pain. His left arm was heavily strapped, to keep the broken bone immobile, but it felt as if it was spread all over the room. He could not reach a bell, so resorted to shouting.

Some minutes later, a large woman came in.

“Do you think I’ve nothing better to do than run about after you?” she said. As Whittington did think this, he was mildly offended.

“I need to relieve myself; send a manservant,” he said, haughtily.

“You can either put up with me, or piss the bed and pay for the laundry bill,” said the woman.

“I’ll tell your employer and you will be sacked!” yelped Arthur.

“Behave, little boy, or I’ll throw you out before your people get here to retrieve you,” said the woman. “Sacked indeed! I never heard such a thing.”

“I so can make the doctor sack you!” said Whittington.

“Not without an act of parliament,” said the woman. “I’m his wife.”

“Where is he?”

“Out on his rounds. His manservant is with him. Now, do you want the utensil held, or not? You’ll be the one in a cold, wet bed, so it’s no skin off my nose. And what’s more, I don’t believe a word of your tale about footpads. That ball is from a gentleman’s coaching pistol, and either you had a duel, or you thought it would be a good laugh to pretend to be on the high toby, and the laugh was on the other side of your face. Horseplay, or whatever  you young fools call it. You’ll live, but you’ve lost most of the use of that arm.”

Whittington let her hold the utensil, wondering if he dared twitch so as to wet the doctor’s wife; but somehow he suspected that he might end up with the contents of the chamber-pot upended on his head.

In this guess, he was quite correct. Molly Endicott had learned long since how to deal with recalcitrant patients left in her care by Dr. Endicott.

 

oOoOo

 

Jelves had had no trouble reporting Sir Henry Bayntun, magistrate, about what had happened, and that this was the second attempt at violence towards the Viscount and his lady.

“And you suspect someone?” Sir Henry demanded.

Jelves sucked his teeth, a habit he normally deplored, but it indicated a countryman’s reluctance to speak up.

“Wouldn’t care to be had up for slander, nowise,” said Jelves. “Mind, let me tell you a story.” He related how the brash young man had tried to force the viscount’s carriage into a ditch, and later cheated when about to receive a drubbing for his insolence.

“Didn’t Wintergreen’s family all die as a result of being overturned?” said Bayntun.

“Yes, sir,” said Jelves.

“Under the circumstances, going to knock the man down is a moderate response on his wedding day,” said the magistrate. “Dear me, what an unsatisfactory young man, but you are correct, no evidence connects him to either bout of violent highway robbery. I’ll send my own carriage to pick up his lordship and her ladyship; a woman of fortitude. I cannot see what else you could have done in the circumstances, but driving that road at night is too risky.”

“Yes, sir, so my lord thought,” said Jelves. “If it’s the same to you, I’ll go with your coachman so my lord knows it’s not some prank or trick. Being blind leaves a man feeling vulnerable.”

“Quite so,” said Bayntun.

 

oOoOo

 

Gerard and Jane breakfasted on boiled egg, ham, beef, pickles, and bread-and-butter. They were glad of a good spread, the cold had made them hungry.

“I’ll have a better look at your eyes before we start on the cheese cakes, if I may,” said Jane. “I might need to use another one.”

“It was remarkably soothing,” said Gerard. “Jane, if I am blind for any period of time, I think we should get a small house in Dunstable, to acclimatise somewhere I shan’t have people I know being irritating.”

“What a good idea,” said Jane. “It does not need to be large.”

She took off the bandage, and used it to wash away the eggy creamy dressing, getting out another clean cravat.

“I... I will try to open my eyes,” said Gerard. “I... I can open them a bit; it hurts a great deal, my eyelids I think... there is some light. I am sorry, Jane, I can do no more.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Jane. “Your eyes shut in time to save your eyes, and your eyelids haven’t melted into your cheeks to hold them closed.”

“Dear God, was that what you were worrying about?”

“One of the things,” said Jane. “Also that a spark had made its way inside the lid. But I think you would not see light with that eye.”

“Then let me try one at a time,” said Gerard.  He panted, and sweat blossomed on his brow at the pain and effort, but his face lit up with a smile. “I can sense some light with both,” he said. “Lord above! I feel sick and giddy, Jane.”

“I have asked too much of you,” said Jane, conscience-stricken.

“No; I have asked enough of myself to reassure us both,” said Gerard. “If I regain any sight, I will thank God on my knees praying, and, whatever, I shall endow a free school for the blind, so that poor children might learn other tasks and need not beg. And if I am blind, I will take lessons myself,” he added.

“Well, I might let you tack down the edges of fabric scraps around paper formers, whilst you recover,” said Jane.

“Considering how this quilt may have saved our lives, I will be glad to do so,” said Gerard, feeling for the quilt. “We shall have this on our marital bed; it is an old friend.”

“I hope it will not be too embarrassed,” said Jane, with a giggle.

“Ah, bedding does not get embarrassed by the goings-on between the sheets,” said Gerard. “Of course, I might consider seriously shocking my library by making love to you on the fur rug in front of the fire.”

“Those poor innocent books! Have you no shame?” cried Jane, in mock horror.

“None whatsoever, my wife; and I hope they rescue us soon, for I feel that I might manage to be amorous again, which I had feared had been burned out of me.”

“You and your monster will be able to look over your wife and, hopefully, approve of her,” said Jane.

“He’s alive enough to think that a fine idea,” said Gerard. “Hark! I hear hoofs.”