the alternative bride 6 cliffie bonus

 Now this also ends on a cliffie... so be warned....

 

Chapter 6

 

Jane was terrified, but she was also angry. She put her head down and ran at one of the bully-boys, catching him in the midriff with the ridiculous chip hat which was the only headgear she had. His breath whooshed out satisfactorily.

And then Gerard came out.

“Look out!”shouted one.

“Jus’ hit him; the boss says he’s next door to a molly,” said the second.

He went down spitting teeth as he said that, and the first thug received a pile-driving blow to the solar plexus which made him briefly lose interest. The one Jane had hit recovered his breath, and for a brief moment, as Gerard seized his wrist, he moved close to Gerard, and then in a movement of almost magical prestidigitation, to Jane’s eyes, he carried on going, but Gerard had spun, and the man flew through the air, and landed on his face.

He did not get up. The first one lumbered to his feet, but Gerard kicked his feet out from beneath him and he went down, hitting his head on the uncompromising millstone grit paving slab of the pavement. The remaining one tried to run away, but Gerard kicked his feet out from beneath him as well.

Gerard was breathing a little fast, but no more.

“Not Broughton’s rules, but when fighting footpads, the rules are, win,” said Gerard. “I’ll teach you some tricks.”

“Thank you,” said Jane. “I felt very inadequate.”

“Oh, I felt wonderful,” said Gerard. “It being my place to protect you. Ah, would you be the constable? Please take these footpads in charge; they attempted to rob my lady.”

“Yes, milord,” said the official-looking individual who had come over. “Will you prefer charges, my lady?”

“No, I’d prefer throwing them in the river,” said Jane.

“He means, will you charge them with assault and attempted robbery,” said Gerard. “Legal language, you know.”

“Oh! In that case, yes,” said Jane.

“I disremember when we had this much trouble in broad daylight,” said the constable, using his wrist-irons to handcuff two of the men together, and producing a length of binder-twine to tie the third. “Would you help me across to the lock-up with them, my lord?”

“Certainly,” said Gerard. He gave his aid in manhandling the big men over to the town lock-up, and hurried back to Jane, who had gone back to the mantua-maker with the soles, in case there were any more assailants.

“Gerard, they were looking for me,” she said. “Me, specifically; they said I was the wench. Who could hate me so?”

Gerard looked grim.

“A spoilt puppy made to look bad by a woman knocking him down,” he said.

“It was luck; and I was so angry,” said Jane. “So, you think it was Whittington who wanted me beaten?”

“I suspect he wanted you dragged off so he could humiliate you.  Jelves tells me the story of his cheating and ignominious defeat has spread to all the inns in town; there’s nowhere he can stay without the stablehands sniggering at him behind their hands. I fear he won’t forgive that in a hurry, and I am sorry that I did not think that ‘avenging himself’ on a woman would enter his thoughts as such should be beneath any gentleman.”

“Plainly, he is no gentleman,” said Jane. “Am I to look over my shoulder for him for the rest of my life?”

“With luck, his intemperate behaviour will lead him to biting off more than he can chew, and he will kill his stupid self,” said Gerard.

“And in the meantime?”

“All I can suggest is to stay alert,” said Gerard, grimly. “I’m inclined to suggest remaining within the inn until we move on, and have Alice collect your purchases.  I doubt he’s the sort of man to even look at servants, so she should be safe.  And I’ll send Jelves with her anyway.”

“Good,” said Jane. “And when we move on, let us do so without giving much notice.”

“Good idea,” said Gerard.

 

oOoOo

 

It was perhaps unfortunate that Gerard had already mentioned that the next stop he planned would be some thirty-five miles further on, in Northampton; and when Whittington learned that his plans to abduct the bride had failed, he set plans in motion which could be quickly accomplished without putting himself in the power of any of his servants, as he now regretted paying to have a chicken put in a coop, as the saying goes; but he had worn a mask, and was certain that his tools could not identify him.  Having to rely on the servants from his own lands, however, was more risky. So, once set up, he moved into an uncomfortable little ale house at a hamlet he did not even know by name, cursing the Viscount Wintergreen and his doxy.

 

oOoOo

 

Knowing nothing of the thoughts of Whittington, Jane and Gerard spent several days becoming acquainted. Jane slept in Gerard’s arms, needing their comfort after the attack; and his gentle, controlled caresses relaxed her no end.  Gerard put up with the frustration in the expectation that when his wife was ready for more, the result would be worth the wait.

 

Alice was very pleased with her own purchases, and could pass, Jane said, almost as a paid companion, with her canny purchases of secondhand gowns. Alice was delighted. She had acquired a muff and matching tippet to keep her warm, trimmed with cord to hide the marks of marauding moth.

Jane was delighted when her purchases arrived, along with a Norfolk shawl in black, brown, tan, and dull green with touches of orange, perfect for her ensemble. The modiste had written that, as his lordship had left extra for incidental purchases, having seen this, it seemed criminal not to add it.

“I will vail her well,” said Gerard.

“Thank you,” said Jane. “It is a very becoming shawl, and warm as well, I love it.”

“I am glad she found it; I hinted to her that if there was something suitable, I would be pleased,” said Gerard.

“Thank you!  It is a more frivolous gift than ordinary clothes, though I shall always treasure your first gift to me,” said Jane.

“Why, I have not got you anything before,” said Gerard.

“I was not counting marriage, though that is the biggest gift; but you got me a quilt to snuggle in,” said Jane.

“It is an old and faded thing.”

“But it is a symbol of your tender care for me,” said Jane. “And quite the nicest and most sensible thing you might have got for me. I hadn’t had a gift since Mama died, so it was very special. I don’t count my bridesmaid gown, it was not a gift to me but an exercise in making Madelaine look good.”

“My dear mouse! I am glad you like it,” said Gerard. “I am beyond angry, however, that such a poor thing makes you so happy and is the first gift you have had since losing your Mama. However, I understand, it is a sensible sort of gift.”

“Oh, and I can make up stories about where the fabrics came from as well,” said Jane. “I want to buy you things, but I am not sure how to reach my own dowry. Because if I can buy things out of that, it’s not like buying you things out of an allowance you made me.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Gerard. “If anyone used an allowance to buy expensive gifts with no thought in them, then it is not a real gift. When it is used with thought it is a true gift.”

“Oh! Yes, I understand that. And I forgot! You got me a toothbrush and stuff as well!”

“Oh, that was no gift, it was a replacement for what we went off without,” said Gerard.  “No real replacement for your own, or your mother’s dressing table effects.”

“Helen uses Mama’s,” said Jane, resentfully. “They are silver and ivory, and beautifully carved. They were made in India, and Mama saw them and Papa bought them for her. Not my stepfather.”

“Ah? Then I will write to my agent and ask him to see about the release of your funds, and to your stepfather, asking that your own clothing and your mother’s jewellery and dressing table effects are sent on. Because they are yours, not Helen’s.”

“Oh, Gerard, thank you! My stepfather has always resented me, and he gave everything of Mama’s to Helen, though it was not in his gift, but how can a child go against those who are in place of her parents?”

“You will receive everything you should have had, and if that is antiquated clothes from the attic, well, you can either have them made over, or use them for a quilt for us.”

“Oh, that would be fun,” said Jane. “I will need pasteboard to construct templates to cut hexagons and diamonds and triangles for the pattern.”

“You can construct a hexagon? That is the sort of mathematics I did not think they taught to girls.”

“Of course; it is easy. One fastens a pin in a knot in a piece of string to what is the centre in a piece of pasteboard, ties a pencil at the length of the radius, and draws a circle. Then you make a mark on the circle, put the pin in it, and draw part of another circle to cut the first circle twice. Then move on to the next mark made by that, until you have all the points, and with a ruler you draw between them. If you make two, then you can mark the second by drawing through the middle because a hexagon is made of three diamonds or six triangles and they all have the same length of side.”

“Equilateral triangles,” said Gerard. “And they say women cannot learn mathematics!”

“But it isn’t mathematics, it’s domestic economy,” said Jane, frowning.

“It is mathematics as well, and the sort of thing a man needs for university,” said Gerard. “I can teach you more if you want.”

“Only if it helps make more interesting quilts,” said Jane. “Mary Wollstoncraft is right, of course, that women should have the opportunity to learn. But those of us who are happier with domestic work should be allowed to pursue our avocations as well.”

“That seems fair,” said Gerard. “You are, of course, welcome to any of my books, and I will do my best to explain anything I know that you want to learn.  You should have your father’s library as well.”

“My stepfather likes sitting in there to receive people, looking wise,” said Jane. “I think he’d explode if he read anything more complex than the ‘Morning Post.’”

“Well, he can pack the books as well.  My man of affairs is going to be in his element.”

 

Gerard spent some time drafting letters, and Jane spent some time constructing a hexagon shape, and the shapes within it, in pasteboard, and then cutting out shapes from discarded newspaper to have enough formers around which to fold fabric, tacked into place, the completed shapes to be whipped together with oversewing on the wrong side.  The soft newspaper added shape, thickness, and warmth, and would bond with the fibres within when broken up in subsequent washes.[1]

“I miss having my rag-bag,” she said.

“I’ll send Alice to ask what offcuts there are from your garments,” said Gerard. “I doubt any of the modiste’s workers like to sew for fun as well as for work.”

“Oh, what a good idea,” said Jane.

Alice returned with a large parcel of scraps and offcuts of fabrics from other sources than her own gown, and was soon planning out a design. Gerard sent off his letters, and sat, watching.

“I need a novel to read to you,” he said.

“Oh, well, you can tell me more about yourself instead,” said Jane.

“Oh, I am not very interesting,” said Gerard.

“Why, I disagree,” said Jane.

“What, disagreeing with your husband already?” teased Gerard.

“I fear so,” said Jane.

“Why, I declare, I demand a forfeit for such disagreement,” said Gerard.

“And what forfeit might I pay?” asked Jane, feeling unaccountably breathless.

“A kiss, madam; as is traditional in games of forfeits.”

Jane rose and walked towards him. He drew her into his arms, and she put her arms around his waist, lifting her face to his, trustingly.

His lips came down on hers, a brief, chaste kiss to start with, then he kissed each corner of her mouth, and teased her lips by brushing them with his, noting her mouth open and press up as he lifted them away.

“I do not think that is a proper kiss,” protested Jane.

“No, but it is the preliminary for some most improper kisses,” said Gerard. He kissed her again, letting his lips cling, pressing harder as her lips clung to his. She pressed against him, unaware that she was rubbing herself against his arousal as he showed her how intimate a kiss could be. When he lifted his mouth she clung to him, shivering in pleasure.

“Oh, Gerard! I will disagree with you often, to pay such fine forefeits,” said Jane, breathlessly.

“Then I must make fatuously ridiculous statements for you to disagree over,” he murmured. His fingers ran down her side. Jane gave a happy little moan, and put back her head for more kisses. He obliged, then pulled away.

“I am not going to make you mine in a damned inn,” he said, thickly. “We’re leaving now; and we’ll take a nuncheon with us in a basket.”

“Yes, Gerard,” said Jane. “I’ll go and bespeak a picnic hamper to suit the four of us; for it would be unfair to leave out Alice and Jelves.”

“It would,” sighed Gerard. “Have them pack bottles of beer for Jelves as well as wine for us; dear me, and some canteens filled at the well, so Alice may also drink her fill.”

 

oOoOo

 

It was a surprise to Arthur Whittington to have the well-bribed contact in the inn almost fall from a horse to tell him that his lordship and his lady were leaving forthwith.

“The hell they are!” snarled Whittington, hastily paying off his stooge, and getting up to finish dressing a scene for the travellers. He lurked in a bush after he had finished, knowing that he would probably not have long to wait, if his informant had indeed only barely ridden out ahead of his quarry.

 

oOoOo

 

Jelves called on the team to halt at the top of a dip down into a lightly wooded valley. He tapped lightly on the communicating hatch, and after a decent interval, he opened it.

“Steepish dip ahead, my lord,” he said. “I can’t ask Alice to ply the brake, nor walk the wheels to get out the other side; reckon there may be frozen mud under the leaves in the dip, and it’ll be hard going.”

“No, Alice is too light, even if she knew what she was doing. Do you want me to take the ribbons?”

“I’d as soon not let them go, my lord. But if Alice could ride inside while we’re liable to tip....”

“Of course. And I’ll be on the brake,” said Gerard. He dropped a light kiss on Jane’s lips. “It’s a job that can take main strength, handling a brake, and if there is ice, I’ll need to turn the rear wheels by walking on the spokes to help the horses get out of the dip. Sit tight.  It’s as well that there are few highwaymen these days, it would be a perfect place for them... or it would if the road were better travelled.”

He pulled on his greatcoat, and got out of the coach, and Alice got in, looking a bit scared.

“Your uncle is a good driver; nothing to worry about,” said Jane. “And I’m going to get a pistol out of the coach door pocket as well, just in case there are highwaymen.  Gerard cleaned them, and reloaded them before we left, to make sure they had dry powder in them.”

“Ooh, milady! You don’t suppose there are?”

“No, not really,” said Jane.

Even if Whittington paid a highwayman... no, that was ridiculous, she told herself. But it was easier to feel brave with a pistol in her hand.

The coach edged down the hill, Jelves reassuring the team, which slipped a bit as they descended. And then they were coming into the bottom, a narrow valley with what could scarcely be called a ford, but certainly a place where cold air would settle to freeze leaves.  And one of the leaders whinnied in pain, and stumbled; and the other horses made their disapproval known, and then there was a sharp cracking noise, the coach lurched, and settled to one side.

Gerard’s voice rose.

“What the hell?” and then there was the sharp report of a pistol, and he cried out in pain.

 

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[1] In modern patchwork, the paper shapes are removed as modern paper-making techniques are different.