The Matchmaker's Marriage

by Meg Alexander

  Chapter Ten

  For the rest of that day Sir William’s plans went well. He had set the men to taking out a trench beyond the southeastern corner of the building, and another to the west. High upon the defensive earthwork others were engaged in sinking a shaft to determine its exact depth.

  With the aid of the completed measurements of the mansion walls Charlotte finished her drawings and looked about her at the busy scene.

  ‘Now what do you say, Miss Charlotte? Shall we make some interesting discoveries today?’ Sir William had slipped into a seat beside her.

  ‘I hope so, sir. Your work does not depend upon chance, I imagine. What a pleasure it must be to come upon some “finds”, as I believe you call them! It will make this expedition even more worthwhile…’ Charlotte’s face was alight with enthusiasm.

  ‘Even more worthwhile?’ he teased. ‘Am I to understand that you would be content even if we make no discoveries?’

  Charlotte blushed. ‘Only for myself, sir. This has been so…so…well, I cannot tell you what it has meant to me.’

  Guessing that she was embarrassed by this sudden confession, Sir William did not look at her. Instead he picked up her book of drawings and began to study them, patting his pockets as he did so.

  ‘Oh, lord!’ he lamented. ‘I seem to have mislaid my spectacles again.’

  ‘They are on your head, sir. I believe you must have pushed them up.’

  ‘Why, so they are!’ His look of astonishment made Charlotte want to smile. ‘You must think me a sad case,’ he told her ruefully. ‘My mother assures me that I need a keeper!’

  ‘I expect that you have much upon your mind,’ she comforted. ‘It is not always easy to remember everything.’

  ‘I agree!’ He was leafing through the book of drawings and then he stopped.

  Charlotte glanced at the open page and was horrified. ‘Oh, please! You are not supposed to see…I mean…I did not intend…’ She held out her hand for the book.

  ‘But this is an excellent likeness!’ he exclaimed. ‘You have flattered me, ma’am, but the resemblance is unmistakable.’

  Charlotte rose to her feet. She had coloured to the roots of her hair and longed for the earth to open up and swallow her. The temptation to sketch his portrait had been overwhelming, but she should have asked his permission first, and that she had been loth to do.

  He took her hand and drew her down again to sit beside him. ‘Come now,’ he said gently. ‘We are friends, I think. You shall not be shy with me. Why try to hide your gifts, my dear? This talent for drawing is as remarkable as your lovely voice. Miss Wentworth must envy you.’

  Startled, Charlotte stared at him. ‘Amy must envy me? You cannot mean it, sir! It is quite the opposite, I assure you. She is all that I could never be. She is afraid of nothing and no one…’

  ‘Not even of herself?’

  Charlotte frowned. ‘I do not understand you.’

  ‘Possibly because I am talking nonsense. Believe me, I do not mean to criticise your friend.’ Sir William took her hand in his and rose. ‘Shall we see how matters are progressing? I cannot promise you treasure trove, but there are likely to be artefacts of even greater interest.’

  He slipped her arm through his and began to stroll towards the excavations beyond the west wall.

  Amy had been examining a cache of small, smooth stones unearthed with a rotten piece of leather. Beside her, James looked at them with interest.

  ‘Sling-shot!’ he pronounced with satisfaction. ‘The site must have been in use much earlier than we thought. These were used against the Romans.’

  Henry and Crispin peered over his shoulder. ‘No wonder the Britons were defeated,’ Henry said. ‘What use can these have been?’

  ‘I’ll show you if you wish. Find me some leather and a vegetable marrow and I’ll give you a surprise.’ James grinned up at them. ‘The Romans feared sling-shot enough to carry special forceps to extract the stones from their men.’

  Amy was not attending. In the distance she could see Charlotte and Sir William deep in conversation.

  ‘Excuse me!’ she said hastily. ‘I must go to Charlotte.’

  A strong hand restrained her. ‘Why?’ James enquired.

  ‘Let me go!’ she cried impatiently. ‘It is important…’

  James did not release his grip upon her arm. Instead he drew her away from the others, and into the shelter of the trees.

  ‘What is it, Amy?’ he demanded. ‘I cannot believe that you have taken Linden in dislike.’

  ‘Sir William? Of course not! Who could possibly dislike him? He is the best of men.’

  ‘Then why are you so determined not to leave him alone with Charlotte?’

  Amy found that she was at a stand. She could not possibly explain her wish that James and Charlotte should make a match of it. She searched her mind for a plausible explanation.

  ‘It is her father,’ she said hastily. ‘Mr Skelmersdale imagined that Sir William was “dangling after” Charlotte, as he put it.’

  ‘And would that be so very dreadful? Her father believes, perhaps, that he is too old for her?’

  ‘Oh, not in the least. After all, he is your own age, James. It is just that…well…he did not know Sir William and wished to be assured of his good character.’

  ‘You reassured him, I must hope?’

  ‘Of course I did, but I explained that he must not worry. Charlotte has no notion of taking him.’

  ‘You seem very sure of that.’

  ‘Of course I am. Charlotte has set her heart upon another.’

  ‘Anyone I know?’

  ‘Oh, can’t you guess?’ Amy’s eyes were sparkling. ‘Surely you must have realised…?’

  ‘I don’t have your advantages, my dear. You forget, I have been back in the country for just a short time. I am not au fait with the gossip.’

  Amy threw her eyes to heaven. Men could be so obtuse, she reflected. Sometimes they could not see what was beneath their noses. Perhaps it would be unwise to pursue the subject at this present time.

  ‘We are wasting time,’ she said brightly. ‘Before we leave for the day I should like to see what progress has been made in the west trench.’

  She turned away, but he caught her by the shoulder and turned her to face him. Then he shook her slightly, well aware that she meant to follow Charlotte and Sir William.

  ‘The other trench is much closer to us, Amy. Will that not serve as well, or do you mean to continue with your interference in your friend’s affairs?’

  His stern words brought the colour flooding to her cheeks.

  ‘You are unfair!’ she cried. ‘You shall not accuse me of interference. I think only of Charlotte’s happiness.’

  ‘And who are you to say what will make her happy? None of us can know what is in the heart of another. To believe that we do is to be guilty of the most appalling arrogance.’

  Amy’s temper flared. ‘How dare you accuse me of arrogance? You seem ready to believe the worst of me.’

  James slid a finger beneath her chin and raised her head. Then he looked long into her eyes.

  ‘You know that is not true,’ he told her quietly. ‘You mean so well, my dear, but you will have heard the saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions?’

  Amy’s fury knew no bounds. ‘So now I am a fool as well?’ she cried.

  ‘I did not say that, Amy. All I ask is that you observe your friend a little more closely. Would you say that she is happy in Sir William’s company?’

  ‘Of course she is, just as I am happy in yours…well, at least I was until you quarrelled with me. Charlotte and Sir William are friends.’

  ‘I did not mean to quarrel with you, but I confess that I am puzzled. Do you believe that a close friendship is a serious barrier to a more intimate relationship?’

  He was watching her closely as he awaited her reply. She could not guess how much it meant to him.

  ‘Of course not, but there must be something m
ore. Oh, James, you above all people know what it is to love and be loved—’ Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, my dear, I am so sorry. I should not have reminded you of your loss.’

  ‘I need no reminding, Amy. Ann will always have a place in my heart. The memory of our time together is something that I treasure. I was lucky to have known her, but we were tied together by something more than passion. She was my dearest friend, and we understood each other perfectly. That, above anything, made her loss so difficult to bear. I felt bereft.’

  Her anger forgotten, Amy slipped her hand into his. ‘Do forgive me for my ill temper,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t mean to be such a featherhead. You must despair of me.’

  ‘Not quite yet,’ he teased. ‘I have great hopes that you will come about with time.’ Then he noticed her crestfallen expression, and raised her fingers to his lips. ‘You are all heart, my dear one, and that quality is priceless.’

  It was an incautious move and one which he regretted immediately, especially since Amy was looking confused. She drew her hand away at once, unwilling to examine the reason why she felt disturbed by the touch of those warm lips against her skin.

  What was happening to her? In spite of her high hopes for this expedition the day had not gone well. She had succeeded in antagonising the Countess and had even managed to quarrel with James. It was a lowering thought.

  A tear sparkled upon her lashes and James noticed it at once.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked gently. ‘Have I been too cruel? If so, I beg your pardon.’

  Amy blinked the tear away. ‘Oh, no!’ she replied unsteadily. ‘You are right, I fear. Sometimes I hate myself, you know. I don’t look before I leap. Oh, James, I am such a mess!’

  He tucked her arm through his. ‘You shan’t say that! I forbid it! How dare you criticise yourself? That is my prerogative.’ He was laughing down at her with warm affection in his eyes. ‘Cheer up, my love! Here come your cousins, preparing to crush me with their views on sling-shot as a weapon. Shall we prove them wrong?’

  His words were intended to comfort her and they did so. She watched with interest as he began to fashion a cup-shaped sling from a thin piece of leather, attaching it with two thongs. Then he signalled to Henry.

  ‘Do you hang the marrow from the nearest tree,’ he suggested. ‘Set it at your own height.’

  Laughing, Henry did as he suggested. Then his expression changed as James took aim and fired the shot. Pieces of the marrow flew in all directions.

  Amy shuddered. The small round pebble would have had the same effect upon flesh.

  ‘Well?’ James challenged. ‘Do you believe me now? Imagine that shot embedded in your throat.’

  Henry took up the sling and eyed it with respect. ‘I should not care for it at all,’ he admitted. ‘You say that the Roman troops carried special forceps to extract the stones?’

  ‘They did, although much of the time it was to no avail. Their enemies were expert marksmen, aiming for the head.’

  ‘Good Lord! Crispin, what do you say? Shall we take a turn ourselves? There must be plenty of marrows in the kitchen.’

  ‘Pray leave some for the dining-table,’ James suggested. ‘The Earl may not care to have his produce used for such a purpose.’

  ‘I don’t suppose he’ll mind, especially if we invite him to join us.’ Henry eyed the damaged marrow with some satisfaction. ‘James, you should look at the shaft being dug into the earthworks. The men are twenty feet down already.’

  ‘Oh, yes, do let us go to see it!’ Amy was all enthusiasm.

  ‘Not you, coz!’ Henry told her sternly.

  ‘Why ever not?’

  Henry shifted from one foot to the other. ‘It ain’t seemly,’ he said at last.

  ‘What nonsense! I shall not fall into the hole, you know.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of that.’ Henry’s mouth set in a stubborn line. ‘It is a dirty job, and the men are stripped to the waist.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a prude! I shan’t mind that!’

  ‘You may not, but I doubt if the men will like it…naked and on show to some gawking girl.’

  ‘You have made your point,’ Amy said with dignity. It was with a feeling of relief that she saw Charlotte approaching, with Sir William by her side.

  James looked at his watch. ‘We should be leaving soon,’ he announced. ‘This has been a long day for all of us.’

  ‘But you will examine the shaft?’ Henry pleaded. ‘It’s quite a drop already. We should not leave it uncovered.’

  ‘Of course not!’ Sir William was quick to agree. ‘We must not run the risk of accident.’ He moved towards the earthworks, with the other gentlemen following.

  Amy looked at Charlotte. ‘Are you tired?’ she asked.

  ‘Not in the least!’ Her friend’s face was radiant. ‘Oh, Amy, is it not splendid to feel so…useful?’

  ‘You have certainly been so. Your clever drawings have been the basis for the excavations.’

  ‘They were based on your measurements, Amy. Oh, I do hope that as the dig goes on Sir William will make some interesting discoveries.’

  ‘It means so much to you?’

  ‘Of course, as I’m sure it must to you.’ Her eyes were following the figures in the distance. ‘The gentlemen are very patient, are they not?’

  ‘I’m told that patience is an essential quality in any archaeologist,’ Amy replied drily. ‘I imagine that a willingness to accept disappointment must be important too.’

  ‘Oh, do you think so? I believe you must be right. We have not made many finds today, but Sir William seems quite cheerful and not overly discouraged.’

  This artless disclosure gave Amy pause for thought. Could James possibly be right in his supposition that Charlotte and Sir William were growing closer? She dismissed the thought. One wished always for good fortune for one’s friends. That must be the reason for Charlotte’s interest in the success of the excavations.

  She looked over to where the men were standing, engaged in a discussion. She hoped that they would not be much delayed. Although it was true that she was seldom tired, it had been a long day. She felt grubby and dishevelled and desired nothing more than to wash herself from head to toe and change her clothing. Charlotte, she knew, must feel the same.

  James and Sir William had climbed the steep earthwork and were gazing into the shaft. Sir William called the foreman to him.

  ‘The men have done well,’ he admitted. ‘What depth have you reached?’

  ‘It must be thirty feet, sir, but we ain’t at the bottom yet.’

  ‘I see.’ Sir William frowned. ‘The sides are not shored up, and there is room for only a single man. Is it safe?’

  ‘Why, bless my soul, ’tis as safe as houses, sir! The digger has a rope about his middle. If the sides start to go we can haul him up at once.’

  James looked about him. ‘Does anyone use this part of the grounds? The light is going fast and we must finish for the day. The shaft must not be left open tonight.’

  ‘We know that, sir. Rob has fetched a hurdle to lay across the hole. We’ll weight it down with stones at the corners. Will that be enough, Sir James?’

  ‘Possibly, though it might be kicked aside in the darkness.’

  ‘With respect, that ain’t likely, sir. None of the men would come this way. We ain’t employed at the house, you see, and the servants take another route to the nearest village.’

  ‘Even so, I believe we should leave a warning lantern by this place at night. You’ll see to it, Fowler?’

  The man touched his forelock, but even after suggesting such precautions, Sir William was not easy in his mind. As the two men strolled back towards the house he continued to be silent.

  ‘You are still worried?’ James asked.

  His friend smiled briefly. ‘That defensive bank is much deeper than we thought. I did imagine that we should have reached the base by the end of this first day. Then we might have filled it in at once.’

  ‘Fowle
r seems a sensible creature,’ James pointed out. ‘He knows the danger as well as any man.’

  ‘I hope so. A fall head first without a rope would offer no chance of climbing out even if the victim survived the drop.’

  ‘It won’t happen,’ James said firmly. ‘There is no path along the earthwork. Why should anyone use it?’

  ‘You are right, of course. I must not let my imagination fill my mind with horrors.’ Sir William looked up and smiled. ‘Here is the perfect antidote to worry. The ladies are come to join us.’

  ‘They must be ready to return to Bath. We have worked them hard today. Doubtless they are longing to dine in peace and retire early to their beds.’

  He was mistaken. All thoughts of exhaustion fled when they reached the house in Laura Place. The porter was awaiting their return with some impatience.

  ‘Miss Langrishe wishes to see you all at once,’ he announced.

  Amy felt alarmed ‘Oh, is she not well?’ she cried.

  ‘Nothing like that, miss! It is good news.’ The wrinkled face creased into a smile.

  Amy hurried into the salon to find her aunt wreathed in smiles. She was brandishing a letter.

  ‘You are an aunt, my love!’ she said at once. ‘Perdita has had a son.’

  ‘Oh, how wonderful!’ Amy sat down suddenly. ‘How is she, Aunt Trixie?’

  ‘In excellent health, and so is the babe. Your sister has written to you herself.’ She handed over another letter.

  Amy did not open it at once. She was all too conscious of the fact that James had lost his wife and child under these very circumstances. The news must have brought back painful memories. She stole a glance at him, but James was smiling broadly.

  ‘This is good news indeed!’ he exclaimed. ‘It must be the occasion for a celebration. May I invite you all to dine with me this evening? That is, if the ladies are not too tired and you are agreeable, ma’am?’