‘There was indeed! A thousand men died here, I understand.’
Both ladies gasped.
‘Were…were there no survivors?’ Charlotte whispered.
‘Pray don’t distress yourself, Miss Skelmersdale,’ Sir William was quick to reassure her. ‘When the Countess surrendered at the last all of her people were allowed to leave unharmed. Her officers even kept their weapons.’
‘Well, that is something,’ Amy interjected. ‘What I shall never understand is why people of opposing views must resort to violence. In the end, and after all the killing, they must sit down and talk. Why can they not talk first?’
Much moved, James leaned forward and took her hands in his. ‘My dear one, if everyone thought as you do, this world would be a better place. Sadly, it is not so. Sometimes we must fight for our ideals.’
Amy allowed her hands to rest in his. ‘Am I being foolish?’ she asked.
‘Not at all!’ His voice was tender. ‘But consider the late war against Napoleon. He made himself the master of Europe and would have overrun our country too had we not fought against him. Many of his victims attempted diplomacy in order to save themselves, but it was all to no avail.’
‘I suppose so.’ Amy was reluctant to give up her beliefs. ‘Even so, surely it is better to talk than to fight?’
Charlotte was regarding her with awe. In her experience no woman had expressed her views so forcibly, or even expressed them at all. In her own household such remarks would have resulted in a sharp box upon the ears, together with the adjuration not to set herself up as a person whose opinion might be expected to carry any weight at all. Gentlewomen had no views upon these matters.
It was clear that Sir William did not agree.
‘And what do you say, Miss Skelmersdale?’ he asked.
‘Why, sir, I hate violence,’ she answered truthfully. ‘We are not allowed to use it in our daily lives, so why should it be right to do so in a wider context?’
‘You have been tempted to use it in your daily life?’ Sir William’s eyes were dancing with amusement.
‘Frequently, sir!’ Charlotte’s tone was dry. ‘To date I have resisted that temptation.’
Sir William laughed aloud, and she responded.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said at last. ‘I should not care to be forced to rescue you from the county gaol, and we cannot spare you now, you know.’
His words brought the hot colour to her cheeks, but she did not take them amiss. Her trust in Sir William was growing by the day.
By now they had turned in at the lodge gates and were driving along a wide avenue of elms towards the manor house. Then they began to pass small groups of men walking in the same direction.
Sir William eyed them with satisfaction. ‘Laverstoke has kept his word, I see. He promised me a workforce to help us clear the ground.’
‘And are these all his people?’ Charlotte asked in amazement. ‘At this time of year I thought that they must be bringing in the harvest.’
‘These are not farmers, ma’am. Look more closely. Do you notice anything different about them?’
Charlotte hesitated. ‘They are mostly young men, sir, and poorly dressed…some of them in rags.’
‘Anything else?’
Charlotte looked more closely. ‘Oh, Sir William, some of them are badly crippled. I see one or two without an arm or a leg. Who are they?’
‘Miss Skelmersdale, these are our victorious troops from the war against Napoleon. They have no pensions and many lack even basic food and shelter. Now they are thrown aside to fend for themselves as best they may.’
‘But that can’t be right!’ Amy cried. ‘How are they to live?’
‘Without such men as the Earl of Laverstoke many of them would starve. He cannot employ them all…their numbers are too great, but he has set aside some land for them, where they have set up a type of camp. Food is delivered to them on a daily basis.’
‘That is well done of him. He must be a good man. I cannot wait to meet him.’
‘You are about to do so, Amy.’ James smiled down at her. ‘Here is Laverstoke come to welcome us to his home.’
The carriage had drawn to a halt before an imposing flight of steps. The great doors of the mansion had been thrown open and in the entrance Amy could see an enormous figure.
In his youth the Earl had been a noted sportsman, slim and athletic, but now, in middle age, he had run to fat. This, together with his great height, caused him to dwarf the fairy-like creature who stood beside him, but all eyes were upon her.
The Countess was a vision of loveliness. Tiny, blonde and blue-eyed, her angelic looks contrasted sharply with those of the child who stood a little to one side. Huge dark eyes stared at the visitors from a face as black as ebony. The boy could not have been more than eight years old, but he was richly dressed in satin knee-breeches and a handsome brocade coat. Jewelled buckles adorned his shoes and a jaunty feather crowned his turban.
Amy heard a muttered exclamation beside her, but before she could question James, the Earl had moved aside and the man behind him stepped forth from the shadow of the doorway.
To her astonishment Amy recognised him at once. She was looking at Philippe de Vionnet.
Chapter Nine
As the Earl came towards them Amy glanced up at James, but his bland expression told her nothing. Then the Countess fluttered down the steps, clearly delighted by the appearance of four personable young men who would offer the tribute to her beauty to which she was accustomed.
Amy’s rueful look was not lost on Charlotte. Beside this exquisite creature both girls would be cast into the shade. The Countess did nothing to disabuse her of this idea. Had she not been warned of Amy’s aristocratic connections she would not have troubled to be civil to such dull-looking females in their worn gowns. What could they be thinking of, to pay morning calls in garments which might have been worn by a kitchen-maid?
Then Sir William was bowing over her hand, presenting the ladies to her and to his host.
The Earl gave them a warm welcome, exclaiming over the length of their drive and begging them to take refreshment. He led the party indoors and ushered them into a richly decorated salon. There he began at once to discuss the arrangements for the excavation.
‘You will wish to interview the men without delay?’ he asked as he looked from James to Sir William. ‘They are good fellows, but without experience, I fear.’ Then he hesitated. ‘I did not stipulate that only the able-bodied must apply, thinking that you might find employment in some way for those who have lost a limb.’
Amy beamed at him. Sir William had not exaggerated. The earl was the kindest of men.
Beside her, Amy heard a snigger of amusement.
‘La, my love! Will you foist your lame ducks upon your friends? What use can they make of cripples?’
‘Why, ma’am, they may sort and wash our finds, if any.’ James sounded calm, but Amy guessed that he was holding back his anger at her cruel remarks. ‘As the Earl knows, we shall be glad of any help—’
‘Oh dear, you too?’ The countess tittered. ‘I declare, I shall never understand you men!’ She cast a roguish look from one face to another. ‘Did I sound unkind? I suffer, you know, because of my dear Laverstoke. He is the target of every ne’er-do-well in the district.’
‘Really, ma’am?’ Amy wanted to slap her. ‘I understood that these men had fought in the late war.’
A sharp glance told the Countess that she had found an enemy. It did not surprise her. One must expect jealousy and envy from females not as fortunate as herself. The gentlemen would not condemn her. A beauty, after all, was entitled to some display of temperament.
She gave Amy what she hoped was a downing stare, but she did not reply. Instead she signalled to Philippe de Vionnet to pass her a small bowl of sweetmeats, feeding them alternately to the dog upon her lap and the child who crouched beside her, basking as she did so in the Earl’s fond gaze.
It was he who answered
Amy.
‘You are right, Miss Wentworth, for the most part, although we have attracted a few undesirables. My dear wife worries overmuch in her concern for me, but better to feed a few unworthy souls than to refuse help to the deserving.’
No one contradicted this statement, but Amy sensed that it did not meet with general approval. Then Philippe de Vionnet bent to whisper in her ear.
‘Satisfied, Miss Wentworth?’
Amy ignored him, for James was addressing the Countess.
‘Who is this child, ma’am?’ he asked.
‘My page? Why, this is Cassius! Is he not a perfect darling? Quite the height of fashion, I believe. My sister will not rest until I find a similar boy for her, but now Philippe has done so.’
‘I see. Has he been in your employ for long?’
‘Not above a month or so, but we have quite transformed him. Philippe, will you not fetch in that urchin which you brought to us this morning? Then our guests will note the difference.’
‘Does the child speak English, ma’am?’ Sir William’s vague demeanour belied his interest.
‘Oh, he has learned a word or two.’ The Countess looked at the child. ‘Sit up and beg!’ she ordered.
To Amy’s horror the child obeyed her. She was about to exclaim that he was not an animal when she felt a warning hand upon her arm.
‘Not now!’ James warned.
De Vionnet reappeared at that moment, urging another child before him. When the two boys stood together the contrast in their appearance was startling. Both were black, but one was filthy and in rags, whilst the other was richly dressed. All they had in common was a look of despair. Then Cassius reached out to take the hand of his companion.
‘Oh, how dare you!’ The Countess struck him sharply about the head. ‘Get away from that dirty creature!’
The blow was hard enough to fell the child to the ground and Amy was on her feet at once, shaking off James’s restraining hand. The glance she shot at the Countess was one of pure enmity. Then she bent and lifted the boy, laying cool fingers against his burning cheek.
The countess shrieked aloud. ‘Oh, do take care, Miss Wentworth! The boy must be washed at once. Who knows but that the new boy has lice upon his person.’
‘Then I wonder that you should wish to see him, ma’am.’ Amy would not be mollified.
The Countess appealed to her husband. ‘Laverstoke, won’t you take my part?’ she asked. ‘Here is Miss Wentworth, convinced that I mean harm to both these boys, when in reality they are to have the best of care.’ A tiny, lace-edged handkerchief appeared from within her reticule and it was used to great effect to dab carefully at her eyes.
‘Miss Wentworth imagines nothing of the kind, my darling. Pray don’t distress yourself. The children shall be taken away and bathed. Then we shall see them again in all their finery.’
Clearly, the Earl was uneasy. Besotted as he was with his young wife, he could see that she was not appearing to the best advantage in this company. Men, he had decided some years ago, were easier to understand than the ladies, delightful though those creatures were. It was with some relief that he suggested that the gentlemen retired to his study, there to conduct their interviews.
‘Will you need us?’ Henry enquired of Sir William.
‘Not at present, I think. Will you ride the boundaries of the estate as I suggested? Any thoughts you may have upon the best place for an attack upon the manor will be most useful.’
The Earl rose to his feet. ‘Well then, gentlemen, you will be wishing to get on with your plans. First, you will want to see the men, I imagine?’
James and Sir William smiled their agreement.
Then the Earl turned to his wife. ‘May we leave the ladies in your charming hands, my love? The Comte, as we know, has business to attend.’
‘Certainly, my darling! Miss Wentworth and her friend must be longing to attend to their appearance… I shall take them to my boudoir.’ The malicious smile which accompanied her words was a clear indication of her belief that no amount of primping before a mirror would result in a change for the better as far as her visitors were concerned.
The sneer was so blatant that far from annoying Amy it made her want to laugh. She caught James’s eyes and found that they too were twinkling. What a dear he was! He always understood her perfectly, and she adored his quick sense of humour. He was so aware that comedy was to be found even in the most trying situations.
It was clear that the Earl did not share that understanding. The tension between the ladies was lost on him. Jovial as always, he patted his wife’s head as he ushered the gentlemen away.
The Countess jerked her head aside, but the fixed smile did not leave her lips. It was only when the door had closed behind her loving husband that she gave vent to her feelings. Her hands flew to her hair and even the discovery that the elaborate coiffure was undisturbed did not soothe her anger.
‘Men!’ she cried. ‘Really, one is forced to wonder at them upon occasion. Is that not so, Miss…Miss…?’
She appealed to Charlotte as the less formidable of her two companions.
‘I am Charlotte Skelmersdale, my lady.’
‘Skelmersdale? I do not think I know the name. You cannot have connections locally…’
‘No, ma’am, my people are from the North.’
‘Ah, that explains it!’ The Countess did not elaborate, but clearly she was under the impression that inhabitants of the country north of Bath were little better than savages.
‘Well, miss, you have not answered my question…’ The Countess was looking for an opening and Charlotte gave her one.
‘My lady, I cannot answer your question. I have no experience of gentlemen, you see, apart from my brother and Papa.’
‘No, you would not, I expect.’ The sharp eyes raked Charlotte’s person from head to toe, from the sturdy little half-boots which had been smuggled out so carefully that morning, to the faded gown. ‘You are very young, of course, but if I may offer a word of advice, it is so important to make the best of one’s appearance. Not everyone is as fortunate as I am myself. My dear Laverstoke denies me nothing, but surely you must have one good garment more suitable for visiting?’
Amy almost purred. Give an enemy enough rope and she will hang herself, she thought happily. Now she gave an affected laugh which would have astonished those who knew her best.
‘Why, ma’am, Charlotte has many such,’ she cried ‘Her papa is as rich as Croesus.’
‘Really?’ the Countess tittered. She was unconvinced at first, but then she reconsidered. The wealthy Miss Wentworth would be unlikely to make a friend of a pauper. ‘Is your papa in Bath?’ she asked. ‘I must ask for him.’
‘He is here at the present time,’ Charlotte faltered. Knowing her father as she did, she could see that he would make short work of the Countess.
‘It is difficult for him to leave his vast estates,’ Amy continued in an airy tone. ‘You have heard of Lord Derby, I suppose? Between them, he and Mr Skelmersdale own much of Lancashire.’
‘Indeed!’
Another disparaging look at Charlotte’s gown roused Amy to further efforts.
‘Naturally, when one is so very wealthy, a little eccentricity may be tolerated,’ she cooed in dulcet tones. ‘With such a background Charlotte might choose to wear a garment made of sack-cloth. She has no need to trick herself out in the latest fashions. It would make no difference to the ardour of her suitors. Today is something of a holiday for her, away from the attentions of so many men.’
Her cool glance transfixed the Countess. Suddenly, that lady’s fashionable garments appeared as nothing more than an attempt to hide her imperfections, and attract attention.
The Countess was no fool. She knew that she had met her match. With a sigh she rose to her feet.
‘Will you think me inhospitable if I leave you for a time?’ she asked. ‘My dear Laverstoke has forgot that I have ordered the carriage to take me into Bath today.’
‘Mo
re shopping?’ Amy asked sweetly.
The Countess did not deign to reply. Instead she rang her bell. ‘My maid will see that you have everything you need,’ she said as she swept out.
Charlotte waited until they had reached the boudoir before she made her feelings known. There she collapsed on the bed in a fit of laughter.
‘Oh, Amy, how could you?’ she reproached. ‘That was so…so…’
‘Vulgar? Yes, it was, wasn’t it? I have to say that I enjoyed it. Vulgarity is all that creature understands.’
‘But to claim that I cannot move without a crowd of suitors? I don’t know how I kept my countenance.’
‘You did very well! What a snake that woman is! The Earl has my deepest sympathy. How could such a charming man allow himself to get into the toils of such a person?’
‘She is very lovely,’ Charlotte said wistfully.
‘Agreed! She is exquisite! It is a pity that the beauty is skin-deep. Now let us put her from our minds. James tells me that she and the Earl are to leave for Brighton before the week is out.’
‘Thank heavens for that!’ Charlotte said with feeling. ‘Amy, you are so quick. I cannot answer her as you do. She makes me feel as if I had crawled out from beneath a stone.’
‘You shouldn’t! There is more to a woman than a straight nose, a heart-shaped face and golden curls… The Countess is a cow of the first order!’
Charlotte collapsed again. ‘Can’t you be more specific!’ she pleaded.
Amy laughed in spite of herself. ‘You sound like James. He is always teasing me about my strong opinions.’
‘But he thinks the world of you,’ Charlotte assured her stoutly. ‘He would not have you change, I feel.’
‘Perhaps not, but I should like to change. I mean to hold my tongue, but then something happens and I feel I must speak out.’
‘I am glad of it. I cannot tell you what it has meant to me to have you…er…’
‘Take up the cudgels? There, you see! It is no wonder that James calls me his “doughty warrior”. Well, in these next few days we shall find no cause for disagreement. Shall we join the others? They must have finished by now.’
The Matchmaker's Marriage Page 15
