My Lord Tremaine

by Oliver, Marina

  Elinor looked fondly at her old nurse.

  'You must be careful,' she warned. 'William could do you a mischief.'

  'He can't send me off, and his lordship won't. He's a good man. Now, back downstairs you go.'

  *

  When Edmund, after the briefest possible interval, went into the drawing room, linking his arm with William's so that his cousin was forced to accompany him, he frowned. Only his mother and Diana were there, but Elinor soon came in, saying Jane was asleep and Mattie was sitting with her.

  She cast an inimical look towards William, who avoided her eye and went to sit at the far side of the room, picking up a book which happened to be lying on a nearby table and apparently becoming absorbed in it. What had happened? Edmund was well aware that Elinor and William did not like one another, but this open enmity was something new. Perhaps, if he could find Elinor alone on the following day, she would tell him.

  Meanwhile, he was feeling more than normally irritated by the refusal of his aunt to join them in the drawing room. Tonight, when they had a guest, he felt they ought to have behaved with proper courtesy. He listened with only half an ear to Diana's lively chatter, as she talked about London and all the people she had met while complaining that the stuffy Patronesses at Almack's had refused her vouchers.

  'They are so puffed up in conceit! Just because Papa is a merchant they think I am beneath them! He is wealthier than many of them, too!'

  'Don't fret, my dear. It's the most tedious club in London, you would not have enjoyed it.'

  'No, Aunt, but it was an insult!'

  Elinor was absorbed in her own thoughts, Edmund saw. He sighed. Were all these problems which beset him caused by the women? He wondered how soon he might be rid of William and his family. First, though, if they continued to refuse to go to the Dower House, he had to find some way of forcing the women of that family to behave with normal politeness.

  *

  When Jane woke the following morning she was feverish, and could not stop crying. Elinor sent for Dr Carson to come and see her. She felt the situation was beyond her, and she needed support. Not even Mattie could soothe Jane or produce anything to bring down the fever.

  Jane was almost hysterical, saying she could not bear to tell Dr Carson what William had done, or show him the cuts on her feet.

  'They are better, and Mattie's comfrey paste is so soothing. It's just the fever. Please, Elinor, I feel so ashamed!'

  Elinor had to agree, but she determined to tell the doctor that William was importunate, and beg him to suggest to William to abate his ardour.

  Dr Carson listened to Jane, who was often incoherent as she tried to explain how she could not sleep, and felt so tired.

  'Your husband tells me you are having nightmares.'

  'You've spoken to William?' Jane was appalled. 'What did he tell you?'

  'How worried he is about your condition, and whether these nightmares will harm the child you are expecting.'

  Jane could not confess that the nightmares were imaginary, and resorted to tears. The doctor told her to drink as much as she could of fruit juices, take no laudanum in case that was causing her nightmares, recommended a different sedative, and said he would visit her again in a week to see if she were better.

  Elinor said she would show him out, but once out of Jane's room she halted.

  'Dr Carson, Jane is too shy to mention it, but one of the causes of her tiredness is her husband's unceasing attentions. Surely he should not be so – urgent while she is in a delicate condition? Could it not harm the child?'

  The doctor glared at her in disgust.

  'Really, Miss Darwen, I can understand your worry about your sister's health, but as an unmarried lady you cannot understand these matters. You must remember that your sister has not been wed for long. Besides, did she not promise to obey her husband? It is her duty to submit, and not mine to interfere between husband and wife. Nor, I may add, is it yours. You may be reassured to know that soon she will be feeling better as her pregnancy progresses, and then she will undoubtedly welcome her husband's attentions. When she does, the hysterical nightmares will cease, too.'

  Elinor gave up. He was determined not to understand. Perhaps she ought to have insisted Jane told him about William's use of the spurs. That might have shocked him out of his odious male complacency.

  When she went back to Jane she found her sister weeping into the pillows. She gathered her into her arms and stroked her hair. What more could she do other than what she already did, and for how long might she be able to keep William away from Jane? And did she have any right to interfere? For the first time she questioned her actions. Jane had chosen, indeed plotted, to marry William. She had, literally, made her bed. Perhaps, in time, William would grow weary. When they went back to Bude, perhaps he would find a willing housemaid. Had there been one before he came to the Court? She, however, would never agree to live with him. She would have to find a position before Christmas, when the house at Bude would be available.

  *

  Two days later, when Jane had recovered enough to join the rest of the company at dinner, Edmund announced that the Reverend Leamore and his wife, and Mr and Mrs Craven, were coming to dine on the following day.

  'Tomorrow?' Lady Tremaine exclaimed. 'Edmund, that is insufficient time for preparation!'

  'I don't require the sort of menu the Regent provides for his guests,' Edmund said, laughing. 'Do not worry, Ma'am, your housekeeping has nothing to be ashamed of, and I did warn Cook yesterday, so she has been able to obtain whatever she needs.'

  He might also have said that the number of dishes provided in both courses had increased since Diana's arrival, Elinor thought. No doubt there would be even more tomorrow.

  She looked forward to seeing Mr and Mrs Craven. For several days the weather, and her attendance on Jane, had prevented her from riding out so often. The prospect of seeing their old friends had also made Jane more cheerful. Jane seemed so much happier the following day as she donned one of her best gowns. It was not of the latest fashion, but the pale green muslin suited Jane, and she had a Paisley shawl which matched it. Elinor herself dragged out a gown she had not worn since her father was alive. It was white, a colour her father had insisted was most appropriate for girls not yet out, but it was embroidered with pale lemon thread, and she had slippers she had never worn, since they had been purchased just a few days before her father's death. She found an old fan someone had once given her, chicken skin painted with scenes from India. That, she thought ruefully, might interest Diana.

  Diana herself wore what Elinor considered an over-elaborate gown, in her favourite blue. It was ruched down the front, and cut far too low over the bosom for modesty. She wore a simple necklace of sapphires, and several rings, mainly with stones of sapphire and diamond. She even had a circlet of sapphires on her head, and her fan was scattered with jewels, not only sapphires, but rubies and emeralds too. She might have been an advertisement for a jeweller's shop, Elinor thought, then felt ashamed of herself, thinking she was jealous of Diana's wealth.

  The meal was splendid. Cook had excelled herself, even providing a third course, which she had confided to Mattie she had never been asked to do before.

  They started with a delicate chicken soup, which Lady Tremaine eyed with displeasure when the tureens were set out on the table.

  'If Edmund had given me more notice, we could have had turtle soup,' she apologised to the Reverend Leamore.

  'There is more than enough,' he replied. Elinor thought he sounded disapproving.

  Set out on the table were dishes of lamb cutlets, lobster patties, peas, artichoke bottoms in sauce, a braised ham, and larded fillets of beef. Elinor glanced across the table and caught a gleam of amusement in Mrs Craven's eyes. She pressed her lips firmly together. When these dishes were removed they were replaced by a pig's face, pork cutlets, fillets of beef, pigeons and hares, with cauliflower and French beans. Edmund was given the task of carving a goose, while Lady Tremain
e sliced a boned knuckle of veal.

  Aware that a third course was in prospect, Elinor helped herself to as little as possible. How Cook had managed to produce all of this she could not imagine. The third course was simpler, plum and strawberry tarts and some late raspberries, a syllabub and marchpane moulded to look like fruit, with plenty of rich cream. Thank goodness Cook had not been expected to produce elaborate gateaux, or ices, Elinor thought, stifling a chuckle.

  At last Lady Tremaine gave the signal for the ladies to leave. It had been a very unequal party, eight ladies and only four men. Edmund came to hold open the door, and Elinor saw he was gazing with some intensity at Mrs Tremaine as she followed the guests from the room. The reason became clear when Mrs Tremaine, after a slight hesitation, followed Mrs Craven into the drawing room. She clearly felt it would be too awkward to indulge in her normal practice of retreating to another room, though she and Amelia seated themselves on a sopha well away from the rest of the party.

  Mrs Craven beckoned Elinor to join her, while Mrs Leamore took Jane's arm and guided her to another sopha. Diana, after glancing round at the various couples, strolled over to the piano, found some music and sat down, softly playing Beethoven sonatas. Lady Tremaine seated herself near Mrs Leamore, and began to question her about the village news.

  'Jane looks pale,' Mrs Craven said quietly.

  'She has not been well of late. She had a fever a few days ago.'

  'It seems that breeding does not suit her. She has not looked well since she returned from her honeymoon.'

  'Dr Carson, I believe, thinks she is being weak and giving way to megrims,' Elinor said tartly, and Mrs Craven looked steadily at her.

  'Is she?'

  Elinor sighed. 'She has never been strong. But I don't think it is all to do with her condition. Mrs Craven, I know I can trust you. May I come to see you one day soon? I have no one else I can consult, and Dr Carson thinks I am being fanciful as well as indelicate.'

  'Of course, my dear. You know I will do all I can for you and Jane.'

  'Thank you. So what is new in the village?'

  'Great doings at the Black Bull. Mr Jackson's son and daughter have persuaded him to retire, and they are now running the inn. They mean to make it suitable for the quality, they say, and are providing private parlours with the bedrooms. I don't know who is likely to stay there, but they seem confident some of the people who visit the Squire but are not important enough to be asked to stay with him will patronise them. I hope they are right. Davey Jackson was in the navy, you know, and I believe acquired a considerable amount of prize money. Betty, his wife, told me they intend, if all goes well, to build more rooms.'

  'Ambitious,' Elinor said. 'I wonder if we could send Mrs Tremaine and Amelia there? They are resisting moving to the Dower House.'

  Mrs Craven chuckled, and slapped Elinor's wrist with her fan.

  'This isn't like you, my dear.'

  Elinor grimaced. 'No, I know, but life would be so much more pleasant, even if William were still here, without their constant airs of disapproval. This is the first time they have deigned to come to the drawing room after dinner. Normally they retire to a parlour they consider their own.'

  There was little time for more. The men, cutting short their port drinking, then came into the room and the conversation became more general. Reverend Leamore made some effort to engage Mrs Tremaine in conversation, while William went to turn over the sheets of music Diana was using. Mr Craven joined his hostess and Edmund, after a quick glance round, came to sit beside Mrs Craven and Elinor.

  'Have you completely recovered your memory?' she asked.

  'I think so. In all important matters. I occasionally remember something new, but I doubt there is anything important still to be recovered.'

  'It must have been dreadful for you, not knowing.'

  He laughed. 'Yes, in many ways, but I sometimes think back nostalgically to the simple life at the farm, where the most urgent task was to get the hay in before it rained!'

  'How did you manage to return to England?'

  'I walked, worked when I could in taverns, to earn some money, and finally helped some smugglers to pay for a passage across the channel.'

  'Smugglers!'

  'Yes, but pray do not betray me, Ma'am! I feel sure the Reverend would expect me to lay information. Though I knew none of the men who met us when we landed the goods.'

  'You may depend on me. I admire your resourcefulness. When does your cousin go back to his home?'

  'His house is let until the end of the year.' He glanced at Elinor. 'But I suspect Miss Darwen does not wish to lose her sister.'

  'Won't you go with Jane?' Mrs Craven asked.

  'I think it would be better if I obtained a post as a companion, as we were planning before William married Jane. William and I do not agree on many things, and perhaps Jane depends too much on me for his liking.'

  'I see.'

  Soon afterwards Reverend Leamore said they must leave, and the Cravens went also.

  'Come and see me as soon as you can,' Mrs Craven reminded Elinor.

  'Thank you, I will.'

  *

  On the following day Edmund announced he meant to travel to London.

  'I need to see my regimental officers and inform them I am alive,' he said.

  'Perhaps we could hire a house there for a few weeks,' Lady Tremaine said. 'I feel certain Diana would like that, and William can supervise matters here.'

  'London? Oh, but not at this time of year? Everyone will have gone to Brighton, and it will be impossible to obtain lodgings there,' Diana said. 'Perhaps we might go later for the Little Season?'

  'A good notion, but I cannot afford to stay away for longer than necessary, there is too much to be done here,' Edmund said, so firmly his mother made no further protest.

  She was beginning to realise she could not give him orders, Elinor thought. She herself was preoccupied by Jane's problems. She still slept in Jane's room, and Mattie had insisted on sleeping in the dressing room. William had clearly realised he would not be allowed access to his wife, and rather to Elinor's surprise appeared to have accepted the situation. Had he found some other woman, willing or not, to satisfy his lusts? It could not be any of the maids at the Court, and she had no evidence that he went to the village, or to any of the estate cottages. Most of these were occupied by families, and it would be difficult for girls to slip out undetected.

  She understood the truth when Mattie confessed she was dosing William with enough laudanum to keep him fast asleep all night.

  'Will it hurt him?' Elinor demanded. 'I've heard people can become dependant on it.'

  'He'll not hurt.'

  *

  CHAPTER 10

  Over the next few days Jane grew stronger, and less fearful. William appeared to have abandoned his pursuit of her. Perhaps it was due to Elinor and Mattie both sleeping within call, and Mattie's vigilance whenever Jane was resting in her room, but he showed no desire to see her alone.

  'Your laudanum appears to have doused his ardour,' Elinor commented.

  'And if it does not, there is always my purge. I have it ready.'

  Elinor nodded. 'But I am reluctant to use it. I don't know if it is my imagination, but he seems quieter of late. Can it be the laudanum is affecting him even the following day?'

  'It may be, with the amount I am giving him. It makes him sleep all night, which is what we want.'

  The weather improved, and Elinor persuaded Jane to drive out with her and visit Mrs Craven. She had herself visited her friend a few days before, and confessed to her William's iniquities. Mrs Craven had been both appalled and indignant.

  'His behaviour is far from normal,' she declared. 'I have heard there are men with abnormal appetites, and it sounds as though William is one of them. But I don't know of a remedy. Rosie is still with me, and she told me how he would often visit her at night, and then go to Molly. This is not normal.'

  'You have been very good to Rosie. How is she?'r />
  'Still determined to give her child to an orphanage. How else could she earn her living again? She can pretend to be a widow, but what could she then do? She has no skills apart from being a housemaid, and she is good at that. She has helped me a good deal, but I cannot give her a job after the child is born.'

  When Elinor and Jane came to Mrs Craven's Elinor was glad to see that Rosie was kept out of sight. Jane knew of her situation, but to be confronted by a girl bearing her husband's child, a half-brother or sister to her own baby, would be painful however much she detested her husband.

  They talked of the dinner party, other matters Edmund had mentioned to do with the estate, and village affairs.

  'How are the changes at the Black Bull?' Elinor asked.

  'They already cater for a couple of guests,' Mrs Craven said. 'One is a clergyman who knows the Reverend Porter. I cannot think why he is not staying at his Parsonage, though. He must ride ten miles to visit him.'

  'Perhaps he does not like young children,' Elinor said, laughing. 'Doesn't Mr Porter have several?'

  'Six by his first wife, and twins by his second.'

  Jane shuddered. 'One is enough for me!'

  'Who else is there?'

  'He has not said what his business is, though he has visited the Reverend Leamore. His name is Costain, I believe. A man of thirty, very good looking, I hear, and said to have made a fortune in the West Indies. Or to have inherited a plantation there, perhaps.'

  At that moment Jane gave a deep sigh, and slid from her chair to the floor in a swoon. Elinor exclaimed in dismay, and knelt beside her, while Mrs Craven produced smelling salts which she handed to Elinor.

  She rang for the butler, and he and Elinor lifted Jane onto a sopha. To Elinor's relief Jane began to revive, but then she started to sob, and would not be comforted.

  'It is her condition,' Mrs Craven said. 'Loosen her stays. She will soon be better, and I will send you back to the Court in the carriage. You drove here in the gig, I think?'