My Lord Tremaine

by Oliver, Marina

  'Don't you fret. I came to say you'll not be turned out of here for the time being. Mrs Tremaine called me in yesterday after the wedding guests had gone, and told me to send you packing. Her very words. She said you could find a home with the Cravens, since they had been so friendly with you both, and even promoted the match with her son.'

  'They did nothing of the sort! Oh, how odious of the woman to spread such gossip!'

  Johan grinned, then hid his face in his hands.

  'I shouldn't say this, Miss Elinor, but many's the time I've seen Miss Jane on the estate, lurking to meet his lordship. If anyone promoted the match it was her. I hope she will not regret it.'

  'Why should she?'

  'I don't suppose she will. The man was hot for her.'

  Elinor felt she ought not to listen to this. That Jane had contrived meetings with William she was certain, but it would not do for Jonah to gossip about it.

  'What about the cottage?'

  'Oh, yes. I told her his lordship had left me with complete authority, and it wasn't in her power to turn you out. Besides, I said, she'd be cold-shouldered in the village if people knew.'

  'You've been a good friend to us, Jonah.'

  'Your father was a good man. Nor can she employ the builders she wants till his lordship comes home. She'd have torn up all the garden otherwise. I'm hoping his lordship will listen to his wife, for Miss Jane – I mean her ladyship – always liked that garden.'

  'Will they be moving to the Dower House?' Elinor asked. 'It would be the normal thing for them to do once the son brings home a wife.'

  'She'll resist any attempt to move her. She's not had much time to queen it at the Court, and she won't give that up so easily. Miss Jane will have to be firm if she wants to be mistress of the house.'

  'Oh dear! I foresee some pleasant times ahead. I don't think Jane will be able to withstand her unless William supports her against his mother.'

  'Her ladyship – I'll never become used to speaking of Miss Jane as that! – will have you there to support her.'

  Elinor was far from looking forward to this prospect.

  'Has she said anything about Mattie? Whether she will be given a home there?'

  'No, but neither has she said she can't go. My wife thinks she will be afraid of criticism if she turns Mattie away. And Miss Jane will have something to say when she comes home.'

  *

  It was the middle of May when Jane and William returned to the Court. Elinor had been making her deliveries in the village, and returned to the lodge to find Jane sitting in the parlour. Mattie was sitting beside her, patting her hands, but looking distraught. Jane was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and wearing the same gown she had worn when she left for her wedding journey. Elinor went to hug her, and Jane burst into tears as she clutched at her sister.

  'Dearest, what is it?'

  'I'll fetch us some ale,' Mattie said, and went out to the kitchen.

  'Jane, dear, what in the world's the matter?'

  For several minutes Jane sobbed and could not speak. Mattie came in with two tankards of ale, put them on a table nearby, and went out again without speaking. Elinor held one of the tankards to Jane.

  'Drink it!'

  'Oh, Elinor! I should not be talking to you about such things, but I'm so very miserable, and there's no one else.'

  'Hush, dry your eyes, and drink this ale.'

  Jane drank, took a deep breath, and looked piteously at her sister.

  'I thought he was taking me to London!'

  'Did he not? You must have been so disappointed after looking forward to it. Then where did you go? To Bath, perhaps?'

  Jane shook her head.

  'Even that would have been preferable! I could not believe it when I found out where we were! Oh, Elinor, he took me to Exmouth!'

  'Exmouth! Well, I suppose it is a popular resort. People say the air is very beneficial.'

  'But I don't need beneficial air! Or I didn't, then, even if I do now. Do you know why he went?'

  'Tell me. Is William in need of the air?'

  'Of course not. He is fascinated by a man called William Kyd. Just because they have the same name!'

  'William Kyd? But his name isn't Kyd.'

  'It was a name far back in his mother's family, he said.'

  'Who in the world is he?'

  'You may well ask! He lived four hundred years ago, and he was a pirate who brought his ships into Exmouth! William wanted, he said, to discover more about him. He spent all the time talking to old sailors, and visiting churches where he said there might be some details in the records.'

  'How exceedingly odd!'

  'I suspect he believes in reincarnation and thinks he was once a dashing pirate!'

  'Surely not?'

  'Surely yes! He hired a little boat and went sailing. I suspect he was pretending to be a pirate. But it's worse, Elinor. He left me alone all day! But not all night, more's the pity!'

  Elinor frowned. She knew about the ways of married persons, but what did Jane mean? Her sister had not been ignorant either, she must have known what to expect when she was married.

  'I don't understand.'

  Jane began to weep again.

  'Oh, Elinor! He was insatiable! I had managed to hold him off before we were married, much though he wanted to – well, you know what I mean. But now I'm his wife he says I must never refuse him. I thought married people might, well, do that when they wished for a child, but he insisted, every single night, and sometimes two or three times a night. I'm exhausted! Elinor, will he wish to be like that for ever? I can't bear it!'

  *

  CHAPTER 5

  Paul left Amiens early the following morning.

  'I have received a message to say my father is ill in Paris, and wants me to go there at once,' he told the tavern owner.

  'I am sorry to lose you, but of course you must go to your father. Now, you have some wages to come?'

  Adding the wages he was given to his small stock of coins, he slipped away along less frequented lanes. He was not, he thought, a coward, but like Lord Wellington knew when to make a strategic retreat. Where had that thought come from? Yet another fragment of memory? He had no doubts his assailants of the previous night would be burning for revenge after their ignominious defeat at his hands, and also no doubts they would come in force, not just the two of them. Two he could deal with, but if they brought a half dozen companions he would certainly lose his ring, and possibly his life. He needed to guard the ring, his only means of discovering his real identity, and after all he had gone through during the past ten months, his escape from a living grave, and the hard work as well as the mental torment of not knowing who or what he was, he meant to preserve his life.

  Once clear of Amiens he had no need to evade the British army, and it took him only three days to reach Rouen. Anxious as he was to get to England, he decided he dared not be in too great a hurry. He had very little money, would need to spend most of it buying food, and without more could never pay for a passage to England. Rouen was a large city, he would have more chance of finding casual work here and increasing his funds than in the smaller towns further along his route.

  It was a dirty, bustling industrial city. Paul spent a day wandering around it, considering his best chances of finding work. Once more he came to the conclusion that work in a tavern gave him the most likely opportunities for receiving tips as well as a wage. This time, he decided, he would try to find a job in one of the better inns, where wealthier patrons might be more generous.

  He surveyed himself and decided that to look more respectable he needed better clothes. By now the weather was warm, and carrying the army greatcoat somewhat of a nuisance, and when he once more resumed his trek to the coast he would not need it for warmth at night. He sold it to a shop dealing in old clothes, and from the same place bought himself some barely worn breeches, a cotton shirt which, though darned under the arms, looked respectable, and a plain grey waistcoat. He bundled up the old
breeches and shirt from Gervaas. They would do when he set off once more.

  It took him two days of searching, but at last he was offered a job as a tapster in one of the best inns, close to the river. Once more he had to sleep above the stables, but this time he had the small space above the tack room to himself. He would remain here until he had sufficient money for the rest of his journey.

  The work was less hurried than in his previous jobs. The patrons were men of a better sort, and as he listened to the talk Paul realised they were mostly the owners of the industries on which Rouen depended. Rouen was important for textiles, but the recent wars had disrupted the import of wool from England and cotton from Portugal. Some of the industrialists had lost everything and were very bitter against the English. Throughout his journey Paul had presented himself as a Frenchman, and when anyone commented on his Parisian accent he grinned, and admitted to having been born there.

  'But I prefer Normandy,' he said, and they applauded him, laughing.

  The only problem he encountered came from one of the chambermaids, Mathilde. She was a pretty blonde, and popular with the regular patrons. Paul realised within a day that she and four other girls, all young and pretty, had duties in addition to looking after the rooms. They regularly went up the stairs followed by patrons. When she was not otherwise occupied she lingered in the bar, and made it very plain that she admired Paul.

  'You have a room above the stables, I think?' she said on his third day at the inn.

  He nodded, suspicious of her interest.

  'I will come to you tonight.'

  Paul laughed and shook his head.

  'I have no money to give you a present, like these other men,' he said. 'I need all I can earn.'

  She opened her eyes wide, then looked down in pretended confusion. She spoke so softly he could barely distinguish her words.

  'I do not ask for money, Paul. Not from you. Naturally I come because I like you.'

  Would it hurt? For a moment Paul was tempted. He had known women in the past, he was sure. He had not been attracted to Marga, and he had wondered then if it was because he had been married in his old life. Whether she expected a present or not, he knew that to become entangled with any girl, especially one who earned her money in the way Mathilde did could lead to complications.

  'I have a wife,' he said, hoping this would deter her, and turned away to put some tankards on the shelf behind the bar.

  Mathilde laughed and stroked his arm.

  'But she is not here, and you must be lonely. Why are you working away from home?'

  'There is not enough work for all of us on the farm.'

  'But you come from Paris. I heard you tell the big fat man.'

  It was, Paul realised, more difficult than he had thought to invent a fictitious life and remember it.

  'I was born there, but now I have a wife who lives on a farm near Nivelles, with her brothers.'

  At least he could keep some of the story as near the truth as possible, he thought with an inward chuckle.

  Mathilde smiled. 'You miss her. She is not here, is she, and she cannot see what you do.'

  'But I know. You are a very pretty girl, Mathilde, but you must not come to my room. If you were found there we could both be dismissed.'

  'I will be careful.'

  'No, it is too risky.'

  She pouted and turned away to smile at one of the younger patrons. Paul breathed a sigh of relief. He confessed he had been tempted, but he did not want possible complications.

  He was in bed, about to douse the lantern that night, when he heard someone climbing the ladder to his loft. Mathilde's head appeared, and she smiled at him triumphantly.

  'You see, I am here, and no one saw me.'

  'No, Mathilde. Go away.'

  'You don't want me?'

  He decide he had to be blunt.

  'No, I don't. My wife is much prettier than you are, she does not give her body to other men for payment, and I love her.'

  If only that were true, he thought, and felt a wave of loneliness sweep over him. He needed a family, but not a lover, and was determined not to encourage Mathilde.

  She stared at him for a moment, then began to weep.

  'It won't make any difference. Go away, child.'

  'You'll regret this! I'll make you pay!' she shouted as she clambered down the ladder.

  At least, he thought, she was leaving.

  On the following day Mathilde tossed her head when she saw him, and smiled at one of the patrons, who soon followed her upstairs. It was an hour later when the innkeeper called him into the tiny office.

  'I'm told you attacked one of the girls last night, Devos. Here is the money you are owed. Get your belongings and be out of Rouen by tonight, or you'll be in trouble.'

  *

  Elinor cradled Jane in her arms, hushing her as though she were a baby.

  'Jane, dearest! I don't think you should be talking to me about this. Surely it is between you and William?'

  'Who else have I got to confide in? Oh, I know you are not wed, you cannot understand my disgust, but if I cannot speak of it I shall go mad!'

  'Have you tried to tell William how tired you are, with his – attentions?'

  'Yes, I plead with him, but all he says is I must get accustomed to it, and it is my duty! I swear, Elinor, if I had known what marriage would be like I would have preferred to drown myself in the river! But when his despicable mother has had the river diverted and provided me with a lake I shall be able to drown myself almost from my bedroom window!'

  Elinor was startled. She knew how Jane tended to exaggerate her emotions, but never before had she seen her in such a distraught state.

  'I suspect that in the first satisfaction at being married and with you, he has been too enthusiastic,' she said slowly, not at all sure whether this was possible. 'Now he is at home and has the estate matters to claim his attention, perhaps he will be less – urgent.'

  'If only I could believe that.' Jane sat up straight, pushing Elinor away. 'But there is nothing you can do for me, except to be there, as you always have been. I haven't appreciated you properly. However, I came to beg you to come to the Court.'

  'Do they really agree?'

  'Mrs Tremaine is furious, but William insists. He says you can act as my maid until he has found me someone else. I don't believe he intends to,' she added, and sighed. 'He has told Rosie, the housemaid he took with us to be my maid, she must go back to her old duties. She is threatening to leave, she says he promised she could remain my maid. Not that I care, she was not any good at pressing my gowns, or mending them, and she tugged my hair abominably when she brushed it.'

  'Then you are well rid of her.'

  'But it's not suitable for my sister to be in a menial position!'

  'Dearest, I don't care for that! Has he made plans for Mattie?'

  'He says she can come too, and when I have a baby – ' she shuddered, 'Mattie can look after it. What he means is he need not pay her, as he would have to if he employed a nursery nurse. But I don't want his baby!'

  Elinor suppressed the thought that with William's energies seemingly devoted to impregnating his wife, she was certain to start breeding soon.

  Before she had a chance to reply Jonah was coming through from the kitchen.

  'My lady, Miss Elinor, Frank will be coming with the handcart in an hour, to carry your trunks up to the Court. Will that give you and Mattie time to pack?'

  Elinor almost laughed.

  'We have very little to pack, Jonah. Jane's clothes are either there already or still put away in trunks.'

  'Then that's settled. Miss Jane, I mean my lady, his lordship was asking where you were. He wants to take you riding.'

  Jane groaned. 'I hate riding! And it's raining again, I'll be soaked. I only rode when I was a girl when there was no other means of transport!'

  'There's a very pretty mare, gentle as a dove, for you. Old Lady Tremaine used to ride her, and she was a nervous horsewoman. Have y
ou a habit?'

  She sighed. 'Yes, in my trunk here. I suppose I will have to.'

  'Come, I'll help you change,' Elinor said, trying to sound encouraging.

  'I have the trap,' Jonah said. 'I'll take you back to the stables as soon as you have changed.'

  *

  An hour later Elinor and Mattie, swathed in cloaks to protect them from the rain, walked away from the lodge. Why could William not have sent a carriage for them? Did he consider them unworthy of such a courtesy? The Court was a rambling Tudor building, almost an E-shape with two wings stretching back, and Elinor much admired it. They followed Frank and the handcart. He led them to the kitchen door, explaining rather self-consciously that the mistress had ordered it.

  'That's no problem,' Elinor reassured him. 'She would not wish for our trunks to litter the entrance hall, especially when they are wet.' Though why she would fuss, since they rarely had visitors who might be discommoded, Elinor did not know.

  One of the footmen came to help Frank unload the trunks. Mrs Tremaine followed him into the kitchen.

  'Good, here you are. Follow me.'

  With an expressive grimace to Mattie, Elinor did so, catching at Mattie's hand so that she also came. They were led up the back stairs and shown into two small rooms near the top of the first flight.

  'My lady's bedroom is along here at the west corner of the house, and there is a dressing room attached. Your room is the one normally occupied by my lady's maid, close by in case she needs you. It is easier than being in the attics with the other maids.'

  So that was how she was regarded, Elinor thought wryly, just one of the maidservants. Mrs Tremaine was still speaking, but to Elinor alone, just as though Mattie were not there. Elinor had to strive hard to suppress her anger at the woman's rudeness.

  'The one your servant will occupy used to be for a second maid, or when there was an elder daughter with her own maid. My lady says no one but your old nurse can launder her clothes adequately. She is too particular. Though why anyone should need even one maid is beyond me. I have always managed without. But William insists. I will leave you to unpack, and my lady will no doubt need your assistance when she is dressing for dinner.'