the alternative bride 8

 .... I plum forgot. Sorry. 

Chapter 8

 

“I don’t suppose you feel hungry, Gerard, but we ought to eat. It’s a shame to waste the food, and we need to keep our strength up, to fight the cold that will inevitably ensue overnight,” said Jane.

“You are right; and the pain is bearable now. I think I had a healing doze,” said Gerard.

“You did, and you awoke in pain, which alerted me, so I trickled more cold water onto your neckcloth.”

“What, madam, did you desecrate my neckcloth to make a bandage?”

“It was available, and my handkerchief is but a poor little thing and trimmed with lace, being one of Madelaine’s, and about as much use to rise to the occasion as Madelaine would be. It took one look at you and fainted. And your handkerchief would be no good, as you are in the habit of using it to wipe your hands, and I suspect you did so outside when manhandling the wheel.”

“Guilty as charged,” said Gerard. “A cravat is a useful length of linen. I don’t recall being in pain when I woke.”

“No, you dozed off again and then awoke naturally. Do you need the utensil?”

“Damned if I will; help me with my trouser fall, and guide me to the door. I will relieve myself into the road.”

“If you are sure. Though it will let in the cold.”

“Oh, I had not thought of that, only of my own dignity. Hold the thing for me, then, if you please.”

Jane did so, glad that he could not see her blushes, and emptied it out of the window of the coach.

“We will have to wash for dinner using your handkerchief soaked in water,” she said, cheerfully.

“Well, it is better than nothing; I fear I am not going to assume smallclothes and a clean shirt,” said Gerard. “We might, however, change our linen in the morning, since we have an overnight bag, which will be more comfortable.”

“Indeed,” said Jane. “I am tempted to take off my stays to sleep, though.”

“I think it wise,” said Gerard. “What comestibles do we have?”

“A Melton Mowbray pie, slices of ham, beef, and chicken, a jar of pickled gherkins, boiled eggs, bread and butter, cheesecakes, all in great quantity,” said Jane.

“Put together some sandwiches; the pie will keep longer. Use the chicken first,” said Gerard.

“Yes, because it is more likely to spoil; I do know that,” said Jane, with asperity.

“Of course you do; my apologies,” said Gerard. “I’m in the habit of assuming I have to oversee a lot where society women are concerned. I momentarily forgot that my wife is a paragon.”

“I have the normal training for a lady in household management,” said Jane.

“Ah, then it is that others are lacking; but it makes you a paragon in my eyes,” said Gerard, and winced. “At least, in my perception.”

“Your eyelids are badly burned and swollen, which gives me every hope that your eyeballs were protected by you blinking fast enough,” said Jane. “Did we just have our first lover’s tiff?”

“If so, may any others be as mild,” said Gerard. “I am thanking God for Freddie; without his... how shall we put it? Faux pas? I would be married to Madelaine, who would have despised me for falling to a low trick, and if then ditched here with me, would have insisted on being escorted back to town, leaving me to die in the cold. Actually, most women I know would have done so.”

“You know some very odd women, Gerard.”

“Maybe I do. Or maybe you are just extraordinary,” said Gerard.

“I’m just a mouse.”

“A mouse who rose to the occasion to order about Jelves, who is not shy, and to impress him enough to do as you ordered instead of suggesting things with heavy patience.”

“But he had the idea of the bale of hay.”

“And you suggested using it spread under horse blankets, and to use two of them as door-curtains, which is a clever idea, and you took care of me.” He turned a grimace into a wry smile. “It seems to be a habit....”

“And you take care of me, so we are a good team.”

Gerard reached for her, and she took his hand. She knew, without him saying, that he was wondering if he would be able to care for her properly, by his own measurement, if he were blind.

“Yes, because you will have the ordering of servants who will help me look after you,” she answered the question he had not asked. “You need to have the conditions of your tenant farmers described to you, but you are not a tailor whose livelihood depends on seeing. They will not strip your title if you are blind, and that gives you the income to have others see for you.”

“Practical, as always. I will never drive again if I cannot see.”

She bit her lip.

“Possibly not,” she said. “But I think you will see again, and drive as well as ever. But you will not get well if you do not eat; here is a plate of chicken sandwiches.”

“Thank you,” said Gerard, meekly.

 

oOoOo

 

An unremarkable-looking man rejoicing in the name of Elphinstone Wilbrahim Eversfield, and know to his associates as ‘Belwether’ for his initials, read the viscount’s letter to him, and chucked with almost malicious glee. His soubriquet suited him, if the truth were told, since he was intelligent, tenacious, unlikely to lose his way in the most convoluted maze of legal chicanery, and hated being told what to do.  All were attributes to be expected in the belled gelding sheep dubbed the belwether, which led a flock. And Belwether might have taken more offence from the name were he not very happy in his family life with a sufficiency of daughters to disprove any suggestion of loss of manhood. It meant, too, that Belwether knew to a nicety the cost of rearing a young girl, and how they thought.  And what was normally considered the prerequisite belongings of the same, since his management of the Wintergreen and other estates did him very well, as did his own speculation, and his daughters could all expect very handsome dowries when the time came for them to leave his household.

The Henderson girl’s monies were to be in her name as Lady Wintergreen, under Wintergreen banker, as a marriage settlement; a little irregular after the fact, but Belwether Eversfield was known as the King of Casuistry for a good reason. He would enjoy stirring up Henry Daubrey, who had permitted everyone to believe that Frank Henderson had left his only child penniless. Penniless indeed! Far from it, as long as her money in the funds had been left untouched, and the income from the interest ploughed back into it.  It should be over thirteen thousand by now, even if left untouched in the funds, and not grown by whoever had been Henderson’s financial advisor. A nice little income of more than five hundred a year. And Henderson’s library, and all Jane’s mother’s effects; silver and ivory dressing-table set, purloined by the step-mother; really, that could be construed as theft. He would need to see the Henderson solicitor of course, to ascertain that the wills were in order. But even if the girl’s mother died intestate, personal effects should go to her daughter, not to some new wife.

He frowned at the scrawled post-script; “Bel, find out all you can about one Arthur Whittington. He took me down boxing using the foul trick of getting his horses involved. I believe he also tried to abduct my bride because I did not slink away in shame, but rather was ready to tell the tale of his cheating... though the nice straight left  my wife knocked him out with may have had something to do with it. She has no knowledge or science, but it was a damned fortunate blow.”

Belwether only permitted the viscount to call him ‘Bel.’ He had guided young Gerard Wintergreen when the youth had ascended to the title at the tender age of fifteen years, after an unfortunate carriage accident had left the young man bereft of mother, father, and two sisters in one blow. He would not have taken kindly to someone ‘hunting the squirrel.’ The young viscount knew only too well what could happen, though his family had been in an open-topped carriage which had been forced off the road and into a canal, where the women had drowned despite the best efforts of the wounded former viscount, whose demise had been from a pleurisy taken from the unfortunate incident.

It sounded as if his client was happy, on the whole, with the substitution of his intended bride, though Belwether could not like the idea of women taking up pugilism. Still, if she had no knowledge, like as not it was just a wifely fit of anger, and justified too. What was Gerry doing taking his wife to a mill? Well, doubtless he would learn more in due course.

The man of affairs took himself off to visit the appropriate solicitor’s office, and thence to the bank, armed with a certified copy of the marriage lines. At the bank, examining the accounts, he queried a sum taken for the girl’s keep.

“There is no way that Daubrey was spending three hundred a year on that girl; she was a frump, I’ve seen her, kept out of the way, and treated like an upper servant,” he said. “You will countersign with me a request for the accounting of what was spent on her, and how much was pin-money? My client, Lady Wintergreen, spoke to my client, Lord Wintergreen, of being given a few guineas now and then for fabric for new costumes.”

“It’s been since that new female married Miss Henderson’s stepfather, and insisted that she could not care for an orphaned girl for less than that,” said the bank manager. “I can attest that of that, five-and-twenty pounds a year went to her schooling, since that was a standing order for the last three years since the poor child was packed off to school, when the new Mrs. Daubrey took over as mother to Daubrey’s heir. He doesn’t bank with me, so I can’t do an audit.”

“I suspect it went on the worthless older sister,” said Belwether, who was delighted that his client had lost his temper and picked the better of the two girls. “As her guardian, he’s entitled to her keep and upkeep, but even allowing for her having a horse, since the household needed a groom for the other girl’s horse and for the carriage, keeping a girl whose costumes were frankly a disgrace should be no more than one hundred and fifty pounds a year, the majority of which is the keep of the horse.”

“Well, let us see what a letter querying it finds,” said the banker.  “As you are to collect her personal belongings, then they will stand as evidence of how much was spent on her, since the trunk of clothes for the trousseau was originally intended for the other girl.”

“I will have a great deal of amusement in stripping that harpy of what she has stolen from my lord’s bride, who appears, from his lordship’s writing, to have a great deal of personality, common sense, and the instincts of a lady,” said Belwether.

“As Frank Henderson’s banker, I will do all in my power to assist you, Mr. Eversfield,” said the banker.

“I am most appreciative,” said Belwether.

He made a trip home to ask Florence, his eldest, to list the bare minimum a girl of the estate of a lady should own. Florence was a sensible body, not given to flights of fancy, and her list for another girl her own age would be very useful to refer to.

Belwether went to bed to sleep the sleep of innocent delight of a man about to make miserable the lives of those who have not done right by another.

 

oOoOo

 

“I’ve never known such cold nights in September as this year,” said Gerard. “Even when the days have been warm, I’ve noticed it has been chilly at night. I’ve been glad to share a bed with you... that sounds awful.”

“I’ve enjoyed your warmth, too, as well as the... intimacy,” said Jane, blushing. “Is your hot stone cold?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’ll go and see if I can dig up the ones in the fire-pit,” said Jane.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m cold and getting colder.”

“Use the brake to dig; it’s shaped a lot like a shovel,” said Gerard.

“Thank you, I had forgotten it,” said Jane.

“The utensil is pewter; if the wood has burned down to charcoal, why not fill it with charcoal and if we are careful, it will warm the whole coach. If we relieve ourselves first we should be able to get warm, and it may burn long enough for dawn to come, when it should get warmer.”

“That is a good idea,” said Jane.

 

It was dark, the waning moon hidden behind a clammy mist. Jane was terrified, the weight of the pistol she took with her only scant comfort. A white shape hurtled over her head, and an unearthly shriek made her gasp, almost dropping her not inconsiderable load. The white shape seemed briefly to hit the ground, and then ghosted up into a tree, a squealing rodent with it. A barn owl! No wonder they were also called screech-owls, thought Jane, her heart hammering. It was said to paralyse small creatures in fear, and Jane could see why.

“I am a mouse that roars, owl, so d... don’t even try,” said Jane, defiantly.

She found the pit Jelves had dug for a fire, and the lantern revealed thin trickles of smoke from it. Jane dug into it with the brake, and the odd flame crackled into life. Jane dug out the two big stones in the embers first, to place in the sacks Jelves had found for the first stones, and took them back to Gerard.

“Put these at your feet,” she said. “I could get the fire going again if I only had something in which to heat water. Gerard, we will never travel again without a thick pot to hold fire, a kettle, and tea.”

“Jelves keeps a tin mug under the dash, and a twist of ready ground hot chocolate; we might not have any eggs, cream, or sugar to go in it, but it will be hot,” said Gerard.

“I’ll stand him the richest, thickest cup of chocolate he’s ever had,” said Jane. “I think I’ll start the water heating on the fire, and finish it on charcoal in the utensil.”

She climbed up to the driver’s seat, and found Jelves’s stash of emergency succour, including a twist of tobacco, an apple, and a few macaroons. There was a chocolate whisk there too, and Jane soon had chocolate in heating water, and inserted the stones that had cooled into the embers. Filling the chamber pot about three-quarters full with charcoal, she threw more wood on the fire, and raked the earth back over it with the brake.

She took it back to the coach, stirring all the time.

“You’ll need gloves to hold it,” she warned.

“Yes, and it has a wire handle contrived by Jelves when he cooked off the handle held on with solder,” said Gerard.

The chocolate was bitter, but it was hot, and it was welcome to have a hot drink inside them. There were enough grounds for Jane to be able to fill the mug again so they might have more than half a mug each. The second warmed less well, but it was still some warmth inside them. With the utensil stood on the seat on the cheap tin tray sent in the picnic hamper, giving out what little warmth was left in it, Gerard and Jane were able to sleep, holding each other for warmth and comfort.