The Irish Bride

by Marina Oliver

  'I was cheated, and I won't stand for it!' he said, sitting with his head in his hands, and his voice trembling with emotion.

  'Who cheated you?'

  'It doesn't matter. You won't know him. He doesn't move in the sort of respectable society you've grown accustomed to!'

  'Has he challenged you?' she asked.

  She knew very little about duelling conventions, but she had an idea duels were illegal.

  'No. I'm going to challenge him, but unless I can find a second I can't!'

  Brigid lost control of what patience she had been able to summon.

  'Then the answer is plain! Don't challenge him, and you won't need to learn how to shoot, or ask impossible things of Matthew or any of your friends!'

  'I'm not going to let him cheat me without taking steps to stop him!'

  His chin, she noticed, could jut belligerently.

  'Stop playing cards with him, or whatever it is he's cheating you at,' she advised. 'Forget it. You may have learned a better lesson than you would if you just learned how to handle a pistol.'

  He shook his head.

  'If I stop going to - where we play, people will think I am a coward. I can't have that happen.'

  'Better that than being a corpse in a stupid duel. Does your father know about this?'

  'Of course not! And if you tell him, I'll never forgive you!'

  'I've no intention of mentioning this to anyone, you can be sure. That is, I won't tell your father if you promise me you'll forget all about it,' she amended. Perhaps betraying Colum was the only way to stop this foolishness.

  'Girls!' he exclaimed.'You have no sense of honour! I told you in confidence, so you must not betray me. You can't! He'd stop my allowance, probably send me back to Dublin.'

  'Which might be the best place for you.'

  He stared at her, then with what sounded suspiciously like a sob, turned and almost ran from the room.

  Brigid sat, her novel forgotten, and wondered what to do. Matthew, it seemed, already knew of this, so perhaps she could talk to him about it. She dismissed the notion of confiding in Sophia, not because she would not betray Colum, but her friend might worry. Alex, too, could hardly interfere. She did not want to tell her uncle. In the end she decided to speak to Matthew, and trust nothing came of it. Colum must have few friends he could trust in London if he needed to ask someone he did not like to act as his second, so in all probability it would not come to anything.

  *

  Matthew was going with a party of friends, mainly former army colleagues, to a masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens. There they could forget the formality of the ton balls, where decorous behaviour in the ballrooms of Society hostesses had to be observed. There would be plenty of girls in search of amorous amusement. Many of these would be the lightskirts who haunted the theatres, or the streets of Mayfair, but there were others, ostensibly respectable women who craved more excitement than they found in their homes. He had, in the past, when he was barely nineteen, escorted one such debutante to Vauxhall, but had been repelled by her behaviour. She had, he saw with considerable amusement, a year or two later married one of the strictest officers from his own regiment. There would be no more such adventures for my lady.

  He and Salcombe were strolling along one of the main avenues when his attention was caught by a couple coming towards them. The girl had removed her mask, and with a shock he recognised Sinead O'Neill. He glanced at her companion, and even with his mask in place the man was identifiable by his thick black eyebrows and the beaklike curve of his nose.

  'That's Gregory Linwood, isn't it?' Salcombe said quietly. 'I wonder who the pullet with him is? I haven't seen her at the Haymarket.'

  'No, and you won't, unless this evening becomes more than she can handle. I know her family. She's barely sixteen, but thinks she knows all the tricks. I doubt she can manage Linwood, though.'

  'So what can you do? Challenge him?'

  Matthew laughed. 'That was her brother at Manton's the other day. I tried to deter him from making a challenge, so I'd be a fool to involve myself in one! I think I'll follow them, and only intervene if she is in trouble.'

  'Then let's follow.'

  Sinead and her escort had turned off the main path and were making their way along one of the side ones. Matthew and Salcombe followed discreetly. This path was still lit brightly, but at the far end the lighting became less bright, and Matthew knew there were some small pavilions where amorous couples could be assured of privacy. He had, he recalled, used one of them himself on that long-ago adventure. He, though, had had a willing partner and had not permitted matters to get out of control. He doubted Linwood would have such consideration for his young, and presumably innocent companion.

  'Do we wait?' Salcombe asked.

  'I think so. We can always intervene when it becomes necessary. It might not, if he is planning no more than a quick tumble.'

  'If he is it will be the first time. He doesn't need to entice an heiress into marriage, he's richer than most of them. He just enjoys seducing innocent girls.'

  'Or silly little fools!'

  They strolled along, trying to look unobtrusive. Suddenly Linwood put his arm round Sinead's waist and pulled her to one side. They had reached one of the secluded pavilions, screened by bushes.

  Sinead made a noise that was partly surprise, partly a small scream. Salcombe started forward, but Matthew caught his arm and held him back.

  'Let him frighten her a little. It will do more good than if we barge in before he's had time to try and kiss her.'

  They stole as closely as they could to the bushes and listened intently.

  'What are you doing?' Sinead asked, her voice trembling in fear.

  'Just making you a little more comfortable, my dear. Come, there's a couch here, sit down beside me.'

  'Don't! Please don't! I want to go home!'

  'Not now, my pretty. You came with me willingly enough, and later I'll take you home. But first let's have a little sport.'

  'No! Oh, you've torn my dress, and it was a new one.'

  'I'll buy you more, if you please me. Keep still, child!'

  Sinead began to weep, deep, rasping sobs, and Matthew touched Salcombe on the arm. They moved round the bushes and into the pavilion.

  'We'll look after Miss O'Neill now, Linwood,' Matthew said, while Salcombe hauled the man to his feet and pushed him, protesting volubly, out of the pavilion.

  'No! Go away! Oh, please, leave me alone, all of you!'

  'You know me, Matthew Childe, and this is a friend. We'll escort you home. Where is your cloak?'

  She was still sobbing gustily.

  'I don't know! He made me take it off, and he's torn my new dress. Oh, and I've dropped my mask, too. How can I go through the gardens like this?'

  'Sit there for a minute. They can't be far away. Yes, here's the cloak.'

  'And I've got the mask,' Salcombe said. 'Here, Miss O'Neill, put it back on.'

  Matthew was attempting to put the cloak around her, but was hampered by her efforts to hold the bodice of her gown together.

  'Forget that, if you fasten the cloak tightly about you your gown won't show. Now, are you ready?'

  Sinead had by now stopped crying, just letting an occasional sob escape.

  'Yes. Oh, how shall I explain to Mama how my gown got torn? She will be furious!'

  'That is something you will have to manage. Judging by tonight, you are probably adept at inventing excuses.'

  'They were all out,' she said sulkily. 'No one will miss me.'

  'Then let us take you home before anyone returns.'

  *

  Colum was drinking alone at the King's Arms. He had come to try and find someone he knew who might be persuaded to act as his second, but none of the men he had met at the club where he played cards was there, and two to whom he had been introduced at parties, men of the ton, walked straight through the outer room and passed into Cribb's Parlour. When he rose to his feet and tried to follow, one of the
waiters stopped him and asked, politely, if he had an invitation.

  'That's a private room, sir,' he explained, and Colum, flushing angrily, returned to his beer.

  A newcomer arrived and looked round, then sat down on the bench next to Colum.

  'Seems a popular place, this,' he said in a strong Irish brogue. 'I'm Tom MacShane, new to London, but they said I must try here.'

  Hearing the familiar speech somehow comforted Colum, and he responded with a friendly grin. His new companion explained he was on his way home from Paris, where he had been groom to one of the officers in Wellington's army of occupation.

  'But like all the nobs, they don't care a tinker's cuss for us. Just because I lent a friend a sack of oats, he accused me of stealin' the stuff. There's gratitude, when I'd kept his nags fightin' fit all through the campaigns. Why, without me, he's not have survived the big battle.'

  By midnight they were both swaying. Colum decided he must act now, while he had this Irishman with him.

  'Tom, will ye help me?' he asked, reverting to the speech of his childhood, which his mother had been at great pains to eradicate before they came to London. 'I've been cheated by one of the nobs, and I've a mind to challenge him. I need someone to second me.'

  'Ye mean to give him a bloody nose?'

  'More than that. I'll fight wi' pistols. Come with me now, I know where he'll be, it's not far. Ye can be witness to me challenge.'

  They staggered out and went towards the house in St James's Square where Colum had met Charles Twyford. Luck was with him, for Twyford was emerging from the house when they were a dozen yards away. Colum dragged off one of his gloves and approached the man he had accused of cheating him.

  'So, Twyford, you cheat, take this!' he said as he struck the other man across the face. 'When will ye meet me?'

  Twyford stood and looked at him contemptuously.

  'You are bosky,' he said, contempt in every syllable. 'I don't meet trash from the Irish bogs. Get out of my way.'

  Colum tried to grasp his shoulders, but Twyford pushed him out of the way and he fell to the ground. When MacShane moved towards him he found a dagger pointed at his ribs.

  'You too. Keep out of my way and I'll forget your impertinence, O'Neill. And take your friend with you.'

  He marched away before either of his would-be challengers could recover their wits. By the time they had he had turned the corner and was out of sight. Colum, sitting on the road, stared after him.

  'I'll pay you for that!' he muttered, scrambled to his feet, and forgetting MacShane stumbled after Twyford.

  *

  Somehow Colum reached Wimpole Street. He passed a man he thought he knew as he approached the house, but was too fuddled to recognise him. He knocked on the door, was admitted by the butler, and staggered up to the drawing room where he found Sinead sitting huddled in her cloak, her cheeks tear-stained.

  She looked up in alarm when he entered the room, and clutched the cloak round her.

  'Oh, it's only you.'

  He took note of the cloak, became curious, and some of the fumes of alcohol began to dissipate.

  'Where have you been?'

  Sinead's overwrought nerves found release in a storm of tears.

  'I didn't mean any harm! But you were all out, and I was bored. I went to a masquerade at Vauxhall, but it all went wrong! He - he tried to kiss me, and he tore my gown, and how shall I explain that to Mama?'

  She opened the cloak and Colum could see her bodice was ripped, and she needed both hands to keep it in place.

  'You'd best go and get out of that, then, if you don't want Mama to know. And wash your face. How did you get home?'

  'He - Matthew brought me.'

  'Matthew Childe? You mean he did that to you?'

  Sinead hesitated, then nodded.

  Colum stared at her with an expression of dawning excitement.

  'Then, we've got him! He can't refuse to make an offer now! I'll go and see him tomorrow.'

  Sinead looked frightened.

  'But I don't want to marry him! He's not very wealthy, and he doesn't have a title. I liked him at first, before I knew that.'

  'You may not have a lot of choice, if people hear about this escapade.'

  'You wouldn't tell!'

  'Sinead, be sensible. We came to London to get you a husband, and so far no one has shown any sign of offering for you, however much you flirt with them. It's my belief you frighten them off. They start to think you'd be the same after they married you. So now we have Matthew Childe compromising you, we have to strike. He's good ton, he's connected to some of the best families, and you'll have to make do with whatever income he has. There are always ways of increasing it, and anything would be better than nothing, which is what you'll have if you don't take care.'

  *

  Chapter 9

  Sophia was suffering from a heavy cold, and remaining in bed.

  'The weather has been so variable,' Brigid said as she sat with her, reading to her from the Minerva Press novel they both enjoyed.

  'Why must we have snow in May! Alex is threatening to take me to Bath, and I detest the place! I'd much rather go to Brighton. It's much livelier there.'

  'But you haven't fully recovered after Beatrice's birth, and all the excitement of young Charlotte's wedding has tired you out. And with this weather it's not surprising you've caught a cold.'

  Sophia sighed. 'I've been doing too much, I know, but I have felt so much better than I did while I was carrying the baby, and I wanted to make up for feeling so listless then.'

  'You must rest now, and afterwards not do so much, in case Alex decides to take you to Oxfordshire instead.'

  'Heavens! That would be even worse than Bath. The country in summer! Very well, I will be good. I'll even ask you to reply to these invitations for me. Look, these for the next week, explain I am indisposed and not venturing out. These are for the following week.' She held up a sheaf of invitations. 'Let me see, you can accept these, I think,' she said, separating them into two piles. 'The rest, refuse, regretfully. When did Alex say he would be home?'

  'He should be here soon.'

  Sophia slid down under the covers.

  'Then I had best be a good girl and try to sleep. Leave me the book, and tell Alex not to disturb me for an hour or two.'

  She giggled, and Brigid smiled as she left the bedroom. Somehow Sophia would get her way. Alex was, Brigid thought, overprotective of his wife, but it was because he loved her. Would she ever find anyone who loved her in that fashion?

  She hastily thrust away the very idea as she took the invitations to the morning room and settled at the small writing desk she had taken to using when helping Sophia with her correspondence. Governesses and companions did not expect to find husbands, especially not husbands who adored them as Alex adored Sophia. She must, if Sophia did go to Brighton, make sure she had found a new position before then. Perhaps, though, there would be women in Brighton who needed a companion. Would it be better to wait and look there rather than begin to search now? It had the advantage that she might meet her potential employer before committing herself. It would be a disaster if she were employed by someone she disliked. Having lived with Sophia for nine months, as a member of the family, it might be difficult to become reconciled to the inferior position a companion normally occupied, and even worse the in between status of a governess, accepted neither in the servants' hall nor the drawing room.

  She began to answer the invitations, but was interrupted when Jameson came to inform her Mr O'Neill wished to speak with her.

  Brigid frowned. If Colum wanted her to drive with him, he had clearly not understood her earlier firm refusal. Yet why otherwise should he come to see her? She was tempted to say she was not at home, but curiosity won.

  'I'll see him in the drawing room.'

  She finished the letter she was writing, then went upstairs. Colum was standing in front of the fireplace, inspecting one of Sophia's Meissen figures. As Brigid shut the door he j
umped nervously, and dropped the little statuette which smashed on the floor.

  'Oh, Colum! That was one of Sophia's favourites! How could you be so clumsy!'

  'I'm sorry, but you startled me. She has enough money to buy another, in any case.'

  'It would not, I suppose, occur to you to offer to replace it!'

  'I don't have any money. That wretch Twyford cheated me of it, and he won't even give me satisfaction. But it wasn't that I came to see you about. I've just been to Childe's rooms, and his man tells me he's not there, so I hoped you would know where I can find him.'

  'Matthew? Why do you need to see him in such a hurry?'

  'It's none of your business, but as you normally defend him and all his family, I'll tell you. He insulted and compromised Sinead last night, and he has to make amends. I intend to ensure he offers for her.'

  Brigid stared at him in astonishment.

  'What on earth do you mean? How could he compromise her? Did he try to elope with her? I simply don't believe you! Matthew is not like that. If there was any compromising it was surely your unprincipled sister who did it!'

  Colum grinned unpleasantly.

  'He took her to a masquerade at Vauxhall, and almost raped her. It was only the intervention of another fellow that prevented it. You should have seen her when she came home. Her dress was almost torn from her, and she was shaking so badly she could scarcely talk to tell me what had happened. If our father had been home he would have taken a horsewhip to the man at once. If we told him, he would suffer an apoplexy, so I mean to have Childe offer for her before we have to tell my father.'

  Brigid was consumed with anger. Matthew simply wasn't that sort of man.

  'I don't believe you. If Sinead told you this she's lying to cover up something worse.'

  'You are besotted with your friends, thinking them better than us! Where is Childe? Is he skulking here, behind his sister's skirts?'

  'Of course he isn't, and if you accuse him of this I hope he knocks you down and tramples all over you! Now go away, and take your filthy accusations away with you!'

  *