alternative bride 24

 wow all go here, and my builder cut himself badly on glass his mate had put in the bag with paper.... so had to patch him up.

I did manage a village vicar to come after this and might manage a second.

Chapter 24

 

If Gerard and Jane had had a rather busy week, so too had Belwether and Peter in finding and purchasing a fine Queen Anne house, once the rectory for a parish which had been absorbed into a larger parish as Dunstable had expanded. Lucy and the servants duly moved out of the cramped cottage, with Peter’s horses, and Gerard’s other two, Lady having healed fully. This being settled, Belwether had the pleasure of summoning Gerard’s solicitor for the purpose of suing Mr. Frith once Gerard’s letter arrived.

It is not to be supposed that Arthur Whittington had been entirely inactive. He had a nasty break to his arm to recover, but after several days doing little but sleep, he was up, and resenting Lady Wintergreen for having maimed him. Had he known Wilfrid Frith, and had joined forces with him, he might have managed to make life unpleasant for the young couple, in making hints in various newspapers to cause many people to murmur about ‘no smoke without fire,’ a statement which many a frustrated housemaid with a contrary chimney and the wind in the wrong quarter could refute, but the old saw persists despite the prevalence for nasty choking smoke to arise without a thread of flame. Whittington’s obsession, however, was to possess Jane, and ruin her, through bringing doubt on any child she might bear, after Wintergreen’s death when he had shot him. 

Thoughts of despoiling her, and her terror kept him sustained through the pain. And he would shoot her in the arm before he left her, so that she knew the agony, and then he would take her one more time. Whittington was very pleased with his fantasy.

Turning it into reality might prove harder.

He had no idea where Lady Wintergreen might be; and if she had fled back to London to her family when she was widowed, he would have to find out where that was, and make an uncomfortable drive there. Not to mention, having to have someone else to drive him. His mind went straight to Cuckoo Smith, his own half-brother, who had been his accomplice in killing their father, and who was therefore as deep in that business as himself. Cuckoo was happy with a nominal position as secretary, and would doubtless like a go with Jane Wintergreen as an incentive. Some evil genius had prompted the young Arthur to make a pet of the son of the blacksmith’s wife rather than taunt him, and he had won the loyalty of the young man who had known more blows than kindness before Arthur had installed him in the luxury of his house, once their father was dead.  Arthur suspected that Cuckoo had killed the blacksmith too, but he was not about to enquire too deeply into that death. Cuckoo was not clever, but he was cunning, so Arthur confided his problem to his only true confidante.

“Listen, that doctor who helped you, he’s the biggest gossip on earth, and I heard they had him out to the viscount,” said Cuckoo.

“I killed him,” said Arthur.

“Well, he was alive when Endicott came out to him,” said Cuckoo.

“Call in Endicott to look at me,” said Arthur.

 

oOoOo

 

Endicott bustled in.

“How are we doing today, Mr. Whittington?” he asked, cheerfully.

“In pain, what do you think, you old fool?” said Arthur.

“Well, well, it’s only to be expected,” said Endicott, making an examination. “When the bone has healed, you might be able to gently exercise your arm, to get some use back in it.”

“Damn you! Couldn’t you fix it all?”

“Tendons are funny things, Mr. Whittington, and torn ones don’t mend, I’m sorry,” shrugged Endicott.

“I heard someone else was attacked by footpads, the same day,” said Arthur.

“Poor young Lord Wintergreen! Yes, he had suffered nasty burns across the face, where a pistol discharged; no ball in him, thank goodness, but terrible burns to the face and eyelids, and some question of whether he will ever see again,” said Endicott. “Good job for him his wife kept her head, or he might have died of shock or sepsis. She’s taken him north to his hunting box for quiet, I believe.”

“Probably for the best,” said Whittington, managing not to give a savage smirk.  The little lady all alone in the country, perhaps with a blind husband tied to her... he might almost consider seducing her to give her a thrill in her life, when all her hopes of being wed to a society leader had been dashed. But no, he wanted to punish her, and so she should be dragged somewhere secluded, and know that her husband was useless and unable to help her. It might even be rewarding to take Wintergreen as well, and tie him up to hear her scream, knowing he could do nothing.  Whittington let his smirk grow as the doctor left.

“So, we’re heading north,” said Cuckoo.

“Yes, you can drive to an inn nearby, and we’ll leave the phaeton, and we’ll look for an abandoned cottage on his land. There are always tumbledown cottages on a landowner’s land where the peasants have been evicted for being annoying one way or the other,” declared Arthur, who would never have dreamed of spending out to improve peasant houses, but would evict a man for not having his house in good repair, whether there was material to effect repairs available or not.

The pair set off north about the time Gerard’s letter to Belwether arrived asking him to send for his lawyer, with Arthur padded up in the hard seat with a mountain of cushions and quilts, and laudanum with him for the pain.

Cuckoo enjoyed driving, even if the horses he was driving did not, and pushed on with his brother half conscious under laudanum, to go as far and as fast as possible.

Two days later, he was turning off towards Wintergreen House on the back roads, and Cuckoo laughed a sadistic laugh to see some fellow tottering towards them in most unsuitable footwear. It occurred to Cuckoo that it would be a laugh to set the phaeton at the fellow to make him jump into the ditch.

Unfortunately for Wilfrid Frith, he was too transfixed with fear to manage to leap into a ditch; and if the horses would not trample him, their passage made him fall over, and Cuckoo swore as the phaeton lurched when the hind wheel passed right over the unfortunate pedestrian. However, the vehicle seemed undamaged, so Cuckoo shrugged, and drove on.

When picked up by a local, Frith lived long enough to declare that the phaeton had been driven by two men who were probably on their way to sodomise Wintergreen.

The local doctor, who had mended Gerard’s broken arm in his youth, and seen him through childhood ailments, made a note only that there was a phaeton with two men in it. His report went to the local magistrate, who filed it, having no expectation of solving a death by dangerous driving. Frith’s body was sent to his home, which might be discovered by his box of cards.

 

oOoOo

 

Gerard had hurried back to be home as soon as he could, after the interrogation of the coiners; it was no longer his business, and he wanted to be back with his young wife, not leaving her worrying that he had been hurt,  as he told Sir Gifford when that worthy offered to put him up for the night.

Politeness decreed that Langcostard be offered accommodation, which that worthy accepted with alacrity, and was neither surprised, nor put out, to be housed with the servants. His brief foray into the lap of luxury had been an amusing adventure, but Langcostard did not expect to find it often!

Jane flew to Gerard’s arms when he got in, and it was some time later before they sat to eat. Gerard did justice to Mrs. Jevvins’s efforts, between telling Jane what had happened; and Jane waited until all had been removed to speak seriously of her day.

“Gerard,” said Jane, “I did my inventory.”

“I’m hoping some of my father’s shirts will fit me; I’ve been growing,” said Gerard.

Jane let out the breath she did not know she was holding.

“I will have them all brought down for you,” she said.  “I found a muff-pistol, and all that goes with it.”

“Yes, Papa liked Mama to carry one; lawless times,” said Gerard. “I was thinking of getting you one, but if you are happy with Mama’s?”

“Oh! Perfectly, but I wish you will show me how to shoot, and with the door pistols of the coach as well, because my hand was thrown up quite hard and I think I might have been hurt if I had not dropped it, when I shot Whittington.”

“Yes, and I will start teaching you tomorrow,” said Gerard.

“Oh, I shall look forward to that,” said Jane. “I like learning new things, and you teach me so well.”

She blushed.

“Well, madam, you are an apt pupil,” said Gerard.

“Have you got anything more to teach me in the bedroom?” she asked.

“Madam wife! I believe I can manage something new,” said Gerard. “Even if only adapting positions to see how many pieces of furniture we can christen.”

The conversation fell apart at this point, as the young couple went upstairs, giggling.

 

oOoOo

 

Arthur Whittington and Cuckoo had no idea that their presence in the inn might be reported to the viscount; nor that their sneaking around on the edges of the property might also be seen and passed on. Arthur would never bother to listen to anything a peasant told him, so he assumed no other landowner would do so either.

“We appear to have intruders, my dear,” said Gerard. “I don’t know if the people lurking on my lands are anything to do with those who drove in by phaeton to the inn and have been out a lot of the time, but I wonder if they are hirelings of Frith’s to spy whether Lucy and Peter really are here.”

“How tedious of them!” said Jane. “What are you going to do?”

“They appear to have taken refuge in the old millhouse, which is being robbed out gradually since I caused a better mill to be built downstream,” said Gerard. “I’m inclined to go over and tell them that they are trespassing.”

“I’m coming,” said Jane.

“Bring your pistol to intimidate them,” said Gerard.

“Bring yours, too,” said Jane.

“I will,” said Gerard.

 

oOoOo

 

Arthur and Cuckoo found the old mill house very convenient, and still in fairly good repair. They brought bedding and food to camp out there and await an opportunity.  They could hardly believe their luck when the viscount and viscountess could be seen approaching their hideout. He wore a mask over his face, and held on to his lady’s arm; as blind as a bat, crowed Arthur.  Gerard liked to cover his face from the early morning frost, and gallantly offered his arm to his lady, whose muff kept her hands warm, and her muff-pistol too.

Arthur and Cuckoo leaped out.

“Now I’m going to teach you a lesson my lady,” laughed Arthur. “And your husband too blind to do anything but listen to you scream when I do all I want to you.”

Jane shot him, through her muff, without any hesitation. Gerard knocked Cuckoo down.

Cuckoo was a man who did not stay down long, but levelled his own pistol at the viscount.  Gerard, seeing the finger tighten on the trigger, pulled Jane down as he ducked, and fired. His ball hit Cuckoo’s powder horn, which exploded, and set off Arthur’s as well, as they were close. Gerard lay on top of Jane, sheltering her with his body, and glad once again of his thick, fur-lined boat cloak which provided rudimentary armour against wildly flying shrapnel from pieces of powder horn, pistol, snuff box, watches and sundry pulverised body parts.

Men came running to see what was going on, and Gerard and Jane, rather dazed, made their way back to the house, as Gerard’s men blocked the lady’s view of the bodies.

 

 

“Any idea who those two were?” asked the local magistrate.

“Not a clue,” said Gerard, who had been assured that the features of their assailants had been well obliterated by the excess gunpowder they carried. “I suspect they may be part of the gang of coiners I helped break up – perhaps financers or backers of some sort, if they are the two men whom I have heard are staying in the Blue Pig, with a phaeton.  I can only think of revenge as being a motive. You will have to speak to Sir Gifford Peakes about that,” he added. “I witnessed odd behaviour, reported it to the Bow Street Officer investigating, and volunteered to help round them up; but otherwise it’s out of my hands. I just want to enjoy my honeymoon, and here’s my poor wife with a twisted ankle from where those ruffians attacked us.”

He received soothing words, and that was an end to it.

It was not for some weeks that Belwether discovered that Frith was dead; but by that time, Peter and Lucy were happily married, and Gerard and Jane had travelled south to act as groomsman and matron of honour for the happy couple. The Franklins would be meeting higher society than Lucy’s father might ever have dreamed of.

Frith’s death was laid at the door of the mysterious coiners who had attacked the Wintergreens; and when Orpington came south in search of his prospective father-in-law, he was arrested and spent a few unhappy days in interrogation, in case he was also involved in coining. His tale was considered too fanciful a rigmarole to hold any truth. Especially when Lucy was asked to identify him, and said she did not know him from Adam.  He was finally released because nothing could be proven, but it was not a pleasant experience.

 

Epilogue

 

Gerard and Jane went to London for the next season, so that Gerard could sit in the House and animadvert knowledgeably about corruption in Bow Street, as well as the ills of slavery; and Lady Wintergreen, despite being in an Interesting Condition, was acknowledged a most gracious, witty, beautiful, and charming hostess, passing effortlessly through society.

Mrs. Frederick Vane, who turned her looks into taking discreet lovers to fund her expensive husband, whilst living off her own small dowry, was to regret not having made a friend of the stepsister who was civil to her when they met, and no more.

Helen Dauntry took to drink after her husband beat her for slapping little Tommy, and died under the wheels of a brewer’s drey when she stumbled out of the alehouse which she was secretly visiting. Henry Daubrey engaged a housekeeper, and married her when he was satisfied she knew what she was doing.  Tommy grew up idolising his brother-in-law, Wintergreen, and content with his stepmama, having very few memories of any other mother but his half-sister’s loving care.

 

Sally married her Tom Coffee, who hated being an ostler and went on stage as ‘The Jolly Black Tar’ having a fine voice and having talked a few other beached sailors to join him, performed hornpipes and naval work songs for the public, and Sally, having a fine sense of the dramatic, wrote and produced short melodramas for the company, which were basically an excuse to dance the hornpipe, climb ropes, and perform cutlass drill in the cutting down of Frenchies and pirates. They brought colour to the lives of people through the year without a summer, and earned as well as if they had stayed in service, but had a great deal more fun.