alternative bride 17

 and I wrapped it last night, yay! I have been thinking about Felicity and Philippa and I was thinking that I might approach each as a novella and put them together like I did with the two stories in Emma's Education

Chapter 17

 

“So, Gerard, why is coining a bad idea?” asked Jane. “I mean, I know it’s illegal, but they are making more money, not stealing it.”

“Now, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Gerard.  “Because they aren’t making more money, they’re making more coinage.”

“Well, isn’t that the same thing?” asked Jane.

“Not at all,” said Gerard. “Coinage merely represents money. But the extra money is not backed by gold in the Bank of England, and in theory, your coiners could break the bank by wanting to have all the false money replaced with gold. So, the government could not pay the soldiers and sailors, or the judges, and the whole country would grind to a halt.  Also, with extra money, it causes inflation, the price of things go up because with more half-crowns, each one is worth less, as with a glut of fruit.  So the prices go up, but the people not involved in coining aren’t getting paid any more.”

“Oh! So effectively it is stealing from the poorest who can least afford it.”

“Exactly,” said Gerard.

“Well, we shall watch out for a counterfeit half-crown.  How will we know?” asked Jane.

“Langcostard showed me one; no milled edges, and the face of the king looks singularly like a toad,” said Gerard.

“All the royal family have that profile, heavy lips and no chin,” said Jane.

“Well, yes, but more so than usual,” said Gerard. “You know, when we turn back, I’ve a good mind just to go to the hunting box.  And if Frith follows, we get to meet him on my home ground.”

Jane laughed.

“And he could hardly dispute who you were with the staff to prove your identity,” she said.

“Exactly,” said Gerard.

 

Leicester was a busy city, and as noisy as London might be, with street cries, a knife grinder, barking dogs, making Star cock his plumy ears, and a military band. Gerard negotiated his way through the streets at a sedate walk, and the horses flicked their ears contemptuously. They were used to the noises of London, including bands, fireworks, and cheering crowds. Gerard paused at an intersection to let the marching militia pass by. There was a moment’s silence as the tune they were playing ended, and the column wheeled. Boom! Boom! Boom! The big drum sounded to announce the next item. Unfortunately, the drum was right by a gentleman fresh in from the country, and his horse, already nervous from the noise; and the horse bolted. Gerard tossed the reins to Jane, and leaped down, running to intercept the runaway horse. Jane gasped, then made herself be calm, as an agitated mood would quickly communicate itself to the horses via the reins.

Star yapped.

“No, stay with missus,” said Jane.

Gerard reached the head of the charging, panicked horse, and grabbed the bridle, running alongside it. Jane thanked G-d that he was athletic and could run fast enough not to be dragged under the plunging hoofs. The running horse slowed, and Gerard managed to turn it before it crashed into a crowd of screaming women and children, trapped between buildings and with other people on either side of them. Some of the crowd who had assembled to watch the marching band had been passing children off to one side in a hurried effort to save life, but most were just staring.

Gerard helped the shaky man off his horse.

“G-d bless you,” said the countryman, a man in his forties. “I’d never have ridden Abraxus into town if I’d known he would have to face the militia.” He paused. “Masked?”

“I have facial burns,” said Gerard. “The frost in the mornings and driving pain me without the mask.”

“Ah, I see,” said the man. “Doctor David Thorby at your service; doctor of divinity.”

“Viscount Gerard Wintergreen at yours,” said Gerard.

“Ah, off to your hunting box? The papers say you got married.”

“Yes, and honeymooning out of society,” said Gerard.

“Very wise, very wise,” said Thorby. “I... dear me, I feel quite shaken.”

“If you’ve discharged your business, I will be pleased to drive you home; it’s a bit of a squeeze and my wife’s dog might be affectionate.”

“Oh, my dear sir!  I will not get between a newlywed couple, I believe I will take Abraxus to an inn, and take a dish of tea, to calm my nerves, and let him get over the shock, I have a whole list of duties from my good lady.”

“If you’re sure... I hesitate to leave you without support.”

“Too kind!” murmured the reverend. “No, the Good Lord provides me with my support, and the East India Company provides me with tea, and my good lady keeps me straight in all other ways.”

“Ah, the love of a good woman is a marvellous thing,” said Gerard.

“And how nice it is to see the aristocracy make a love-match, and that you speak so confidently despite an accident to your face.”

“She nursed me devotedly,” said Gerard, fondly.

He shook hands with Thorby, and returned to the curricle, to the wagging tail of Star and the relief of Jane.

“You are brave, Gerard,” said Jane.

“Someone had to do something,” said Gerard. “Reverend Thorby was glad of some assistance.”

“And so were those in the crowd he did not ride into,” said Jane. “Is he able to continue without aid?”

“Yes, I did ask,” said Gerard. “And though I’d be inclined to stay, one does not wish to unman a chap by insisting.”

“Well, then, how far are we going today?” asked Jane.

“Out of ruddy Leicester, to start with,” said Gerard, dryly. “I was planning on having nuncheon in Loughborough, and push on to Derby, stopping to rest the nags and drink tea at one of the villages on the way. There’s one toll gate, just before Derby.”

“Good,” said Jane. “How many days have we been going? I’ve lost count.”

“We’re on the fourth,” said Gerard. “Getting sick of it?”

“No... well, maybe a little,” said Jane. “But we do need to keep him occupied.”

“Of course, when we do double back, he may feel a need to go on and see if he can pick up the trail again,” said Gerard. “Now that dratted band has gone, I think we can finally escape from Leicester.”

Jane laughed.

“You make it sound like Dante’s ‘Inferno.’

“At the moment, it feels as if we have to make our way to the deepest circle in order to get out,” said Gerard. “I’m sorry, if I hadn’t slept so long, we might have been on the road before everyone was up and doing.”

“You needed the sleep after yesterday’s long drive,” said Jane. “I am sure we shall be able to be on the road soon... oh, dear, sheep.”

“You were saying, my dear?” said Gerard, turning left to avoid the herd of sheep. “I know Leicester well enough to avoid the main routes and still get back on the road north. Hold tight, this will be an interesting drive.”

They went through a number of back roads, bringing small children out of houses to stare, and some adults as well. Jane waved back to those small people who waved to her, and Star sat on her lap, tongue lolling, and wagging his plumy tail.

And then the numbers of houses were reducing, and they were out into the country. Hay still stood in the fields as yet unharvested, gaining such sustenance as it might from the sunny days, even though the nights were cold.

“The further north we go, the more behind the harvest,” said Gerard, grimly. “Will you mind if we make a detour?  I want my steward to buy in excess wheat to make sure my tenants all have bread.”

“Why should I mind something so important?” said Jane. “You must make sure your tenants are fed.”

 

oOoOo

 

Mr. Frith set off, hoping to catch up with his errant daughter this day, for surely the populace must have risen in outrage at her abduction by that man. Man was not the word he used in his thoughts, and he truly believed that Lucy must have been somehow trapped or tricked, for he could not understand that, having grown up with both Franklin brothers, Lucy did not even notice Peter’s colour. He intended to point out how forebearing and generous Abe Orpington was in continuing to offer marriage despite Lucy’s ruined reputation. She must surely come to see that this was the best solution to her foolishness in falling for some trick.

Frith was now almost a day’s drive behind Gerard and Jane, though Orpington was catching up on Tom and Sally, being a better driver, and with a better team than the stable lads had been able to put together in a hurry. Tom now drove into each inn yard singing ‘Hearts of Oak,’ as a protection. As it happened, they had left the region covered by the newspaper Frith had chosen for his advertisement, which brought Tom much peace of mind when he realised this. This led to him not hurrying as much at each stop, with the result that he and Sally stopped off to see a country fair, which was profitable for both, as Tom beat the local champion in the bare-knuckle ring, using tricks he had learned in the navy.

A purse of twenty guineas added to their largesse from Wintergreen would go a long way towards saving towards a small country inn to set up house in. They arrived at the inn where they planned to stay the night co-incidentally at the same time as Orpington.

Orpington might perhaps have been forgiven mistaking Tom for Mr. Franklin, whom he had never formally met, and having the prejudiced man’s inability to tell apart anyone not strictly Anglo-Saxon in features. It is less to his credit that, having met Lucy, he was unequal to recognising that Sally was not Lucy.

Consequently, he seized Sally by the arm.

“Come on, you naughty, tiresome girl; I have you now, and I have a special licence, so I can marry you whenever I want, and then you will learn how to behave.”

It is not to Sally’s credit that for one brief moment she considered letting an unquestioned gent marry her, and a life of luxury flashed past her eyes; the phrase ‘You will learn how to behave,’ however, pulled those thoughts up short and she looked up at the cruel eyes of her captor. Then she screamed.

Sally knew how to scream; in an inn, a girl who could scream could embarrass either a fresh or a drunken client into desisting with amorous endeavour. Anything jammed into the seat of origin of such unwanted lusts was also good, and Sally knew how to ply an expeditious elbow.

“Rape! Help!” squealed Sally.

Tom helped Orpington in his journey to the ground by hitting him once on the side of the head.

“’Ere, squire, wot d’you fink you’re a-doin’ of?” he enquired belligerently. “Looking to abduct a virgin to cure some loathesome disease, eh, finking vat a poor girl ain’t got no protection? Well, you lubberly jack-nasty-face, you can belay vat, acoss you’re scuppered if you takes on a jack tar!”

Being a declared sailor was again to Tom’s benefit. Orpington was seized by enthusiastic stable hands.

“Get a magistrate!” suggested Sally.

“Lucy! Lucy, what are you doing?” demanded Orpington.

“I dunno who this ‘Lucy’ is, but my name’s Sarah Harris,” said Sally. “Or Sally f’r everyday use. People like you orta be put away.”

Orpington peered at her more closely.

“You ain’t a lady!” he declared. “Where’s Lucy Frith? Are you her maid?”

“There ain’t no Lucy, you sneaksby doddering rake,” said Sally.  “I ain’t maid to nobody.”

“Then why are you with Peter Franklin?” asked Orpington.

“’Oo?” said Tom. “Tom Porter, I am, able seaman.”

“I appear to have made a mistake,” gasped Orpington.

“Yerse, an’ you’ll tell the magistrate about it,” said Tom.

“I... let me make amends,” said Orpington. “My wallet....”

Tom and Sally exchanged a look.

“It’ll cost you,” said Sally. “Beings as how you had your foul, diseased hands on me.”

“I am not diseased!” squealed Orpington.

“Well, what for would you seize an innocent maid if you wasn’t after debauching her for the cure?” demanded Sally.

“I... I mistook you for my bride!” cried Orpington, it being no less than the truth.

“A likely story,” said Tom. “What man could fail to recognise his bride?”

“Well, perhaps ten shillings....”

Tom and Sally both laughed.

“You’re having a joke, squire,” said Sally. “A man who drops enough blunt for a special licence isn’t going to buy himself off getting the wrong girl for less than it costs.”

“And then the inconvenience, the fright occasioned to the said innocent girl, taking away her good name... I don’t reckon you’d be paying less than a couple of ponies in fine, when we get you to the magistrate, and gaol time too, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Fifty quid then,” said Orpington, who really did not want to go before a magistrate.

Sally and Tom were happy; and as Tom shared around some of the largesse to the ostlers who had come to their aid, so were they. The forty-five pounds left added to their store meant that they were almost half-way to buying an inn.

There was no point staying on the road as they had been caught up with, so they stayed overnight, and set off back to their own abode, feeling very virtuous.

 

oOoOo

 

Frith came into Leicester to learn that a black man saved several lives from a runaway horse, and did not have the decency to get himself killed by said runaway horse.  Nobody could say where he had gone, but wherever it was, he had gone there.

Frith ground his teeth, and gave up for the day.