“I am sorry Madam; it just seemed she give herself airs because she might be carrying the master’s child and when I saw the implement all bloody…..”
“I see; but gloating is not very nice, Molly” said Jane. “Poor Dorothy! The thought that she might have a child was all she had to remember the master by; and he was very kind to her.”
“Well she’s the only one what misses him then,” said Molly, “he were that demanding! And he frightened my sister, putting his arm around her!”
Jane sighed.
“He was worried about money; it made him short with people,” she said, “and you should understand, Molly, that men become easily out of sorts over worries that women can manage to solve. I am sorry that Annie was frightened; I am sure that he did not mean to do so.”
Molly considered telling the mistress that she suspected that the master expected Annie to fall into his bed like a ripe fruit but decided to leave her in ignorance; poor lady, she had to be married to him and had to stick up for him.
Jane hoped fervently that Molly did not understand too much of what Frank may have hoped of Annie and hoped the girl had not been too upset. Of course Annie was a pretty girl; Frank always had an eye for a pretty girl. And it was interesting Annie, Dorothy and the girl Juliet were all blonde like Emma….. Frank revealed his tastes very clearly. It left a nasty taste in the mouth to realise that she was just the compliant wife, chosen for domestic management and that perhaps she was not even particularly physically attractive to him at all; there because his allowance was increased for being married, and to be kept in her place as a housekeeper with entertainment skills on pianoforte and uxorial rights.
Jane dismissed Molly who went of with reasonably good grace to apologise to Dorothy.
Jane decided that as she had little that she could do save wait for de Vries to make a move, she might as well be engaged on domestic matters, and that she would start with clearing out the pianoforte music that had been Frank’s choice not hers.
She might perhaps give it to some indigent young woman who yearned for new pieces; Jane did not wish to play them again. Some indeed had words that turned to ashes in her mouth at the thought of how Frank had given them significance in his courtship of her. She caressed the keys of the instrument, revelling in having possession of a grand piano, whatever the reasons Frank had held for wanting it, that had replaced the box piano he had bought her before they were wed and that now stood in the nursery for when Frances was old enough to learn. She permitted the music to take her away as she sat and played. Miss Bates was there listening – Jane knew that her Aunt Hetty always liked to hear her play, even if perhaps she was not sufficiently discerning to know good playing from bad. That Caleb had slipped into the room to listen too made her heart race as she looked up from her playing.
“Mrs Jane, you are excellent” he said. “I am no real judge of course; and beyond that you are out of practise and hesitated once or twice I could not presume to make comment that would help. But if I may make one small criticism?” his eyes were laughing at her.
“There is nothing to criticise in dear Jane’s playing!” cried Miss Bates.
“Oh there is plenty; you are correct, I hesitated and chose a simpler chord pattern when memory failed me” said Jane. “What else troubled you?”
“Oh, it is not a trouble quite yet; but though music be the food of love, Fowler has laid the table for luncheon and is expecting us to repair to the dining room” said Caleb. “We have all forgot the time in the pleasure of hearing you play.”
“My goodness! Is it indeed so late? I do apologise!” cried Jane. “I must have become quite carried away!”
“And we duly carried with you” said Caleb “But I fear that Fowler will become quite overset if we do not remove instantly to his snowily linened domain of culinary excellence.”
Jane chuckled.
“Caleb Armitage you have the most wordy conceits!” she declared.
“I’m also hungry” said Caleb.
Jane was surprised to have a visitor announced in the afternoon; she was playing from music for the pleasure of Miss Bates primarily, Caleb having gone to lie down for the weakness that was still in his arm; and Dorothy lay on the chaise longue looking a little pale but evidently enjoying the playing.
Jane looked at the piece of pasteboard Fowler had brought her.
“Sir Richard Marjoram? Why I do not believe I have ever heard the name” she said.
Fowler raised an eyebrow and rocked his hand and cupped his ear.
Jane nodded. If he were nearby and listening it might be as well.
She went along the landing to the book room; the door from the parlour was in a recess and not immediately apparent; if this man had not poked around she preferred not to advertise that there was a second door into the book room.
Sir Richard Marjoram rose from the Hepplewhite shield-backed chair in which he had been taking his ease and held out his hand. Jane let her fingers brush his conventionally as he bowed over her hand; and sat in her own accustomed chair indicating with a wave of the hand that he should seat himself again. He seemed to be a gentleman in his attire; Jane was not so ignorant of male attire that she did not recognise the hand of Schweitzer and Davidson of Cork Street in the cut of his dark blue merino coat nor the touch of Hoby to his boots; and his biscuit coloured inexpressibles were impeccable and skin tight. If his waistcoat were a little gaudy for her liking, well there were those gentlemen – Frank among them – who chose waistcoats that were not as sober as might be pleasing.
“Sir Richard; I do not believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you before” she said.
“Alas; it has been my loss” said Sir Richard bowing from the waist in his chair. “I have come to pay a courtesy call to give you my deepest commiserations on the death of your husband; poor Frank! Who would have thought that he would meet so untimely an end?”
“You were then acquainted with my husband, Sir Richard?” said Jane.
“Indeed; a charming companion” said Sir Richard. “A great loss; I am sure that you find yourself inconsolable.”
Jane viewed him with a faintly jaundiced air. Here was a man whose mouth smiled constantly; and whose eyes held very little warmth. If anything one might see derision in their depths; and a smiling mouth and sneering eyes she was well used to from Frank. A man too who would wear a waistcoat with rather more silver thread woven into and embroidered onto it than was strictly tasteful was a man like Frank who was too careful about display of his wealth for it to be necessarily genuine; the hand full of rings and three carnelian and crystal fobs on the watch chain and silver mounted cane were also just a bit too much.
She gave a small, tight smile.
“Oh I believe, Sir Richard, that I bear up tolerably well” she said.
“Ah, you are brave; and too with a small child I understand” said Sir Richard.
Jane raised an eyebrow.
“You know of my daughter? I am surprised.”
He smiled deprecatingly.
“Ah, a proud father will always speak of his offspring” he said.
“Yes; but this is my husband Frank of whom we are speaking” said Jane. “I find it hard to believe that he would have mentioned my daughter; since he was quite indifferent to her save when he found the wails of a small child intolerable. I do not believe you are a friend of Frank’s at all; if you are a creditor of his I wish you will come right out and say so; it is not, after all, something that will cause me great surprise since I have been going through my husband’s papers. I shall however expect you to have proof.”
Sir Richard displayed his teeth in an ingratiating rictus that was hardly improved by having black notes amongst the white of his ivory display.
“Oh my dear Mrs Churchill, you quite misunderstand; perhaps poor Frank found it hard to display any affection to a small baby, not knowing quite how to handle the same; but he certainly spoke of her! Which is why, as his dearest friend, I have come on this errand” h
e went on smoothly, rising, bowing and going down on one knee “It is my desire to take into my protection the poor bereft wife of dear Frank and to be a father to his daughter. I could hardly do less!”
Jane stared.
“Sir Richard I beg that you will rise and sit upon the chair in a civilised manner instead of making so ridiculous a declaration to one who has been in mourning for less than a fortnight! It is indeed most unseemly!” she said.
“Mrs Churchill; I confess that such a declaration cannot be anything but bald and cold; for we do not know each other; but I can have no other wish, my heart not being otherwise engaged, than to undertake to get to know you where if not love then affection might spring from a mutual affection for poor dear Frank who would surely wish his dear wife taken care off after being so foully felled and thrown into the Serpentine.”
Jane frowned briefly then schooled her face.
“Sir Richard, flattered as I am by such an offer I cannot possibly contemplate courtship until I am at least in half mourning; and moreover I should need to find out the legal position of my unborn child” she said. “I am not about to jeopardise his succession – should it prove a boy – by even contemplating remarriage until after I have birthed! You will not speak of this again for the nonce; I must bid you good day!” and she rose.
Perforce he rose too.
“Permit that I may call upon you again!” he said his hand on what he obviously fondly believed to be his heart.
Jane sighed.
“Very well, Sir Richard; provided that you will undertake to behave with perfect decorum” she said, ringing the bell.
Chapter 24
Jane sent for Jackie, the spokesman of the soldiers.
“Suppose you wanted to get hold of newspapers several days old, would you be able to do so?” she asked, bluntly.
“Yes Ma’am; what was you wantin’?” asked Jackie, looking interested and curious.
“The Monday editions of every different paper you can get hold of and any Sunday paper too if that is possible,” said Jane, “for I want to check something in each of them. How much money do you need?”
“Should manage it gratis; but if you gives me a sow’s baby – a half borde – sixpence – that oughta cover anyfink” said Jackie. “Reckon I can pick most up in coffee ‘ouses and inns and fings.”
“Well take a shilling; and what you save, you earned” said Jane.
Jackie grinned.
“Fanks Missus Churchill” he said.
Jackie was gone about an hour and a half and came back with a veritable pile.
“’Ere y’are” he said “Gazette; Spectator; Times; Mornin’ Chronicle; Mornin’ Post; Observer; Cobbetts dirty little Political Register; and the Globe. Reckon that covers most on ‘em. Unless you wants the radical papers or specialist magazines?”
“No, these will do fine” said Jane. “I have never seen the Political Register; it seems to be more a pamphlet than a newspaper.”
“Yerse, well, it avoid the tax that way” said Jackie, considering spitting and thinking better of it. “I don’t say ‘e’s WRONG ter criticise the government but ‘e’s a bit confrontational-like; and where’s that gwine ter get ‘im? Banned an’ in the coop if y’arst me and how’s that gwine ter help them as is those ‘e claims to be speakin’ up for, you tell me that?.”
“Perhaps he feels that nobody will listen if he is not confrontational” said Jane.
Jackie sniffed.
“That’s as maybe, Ma’am; but it’ll only put the backs up o’ the government and landowners and where does that get the common man? Looked at wiv more despite by them in power, wot’ll see us as nuffink but violent protesters account o’ Mr Cobbett’s big mouf, that’s what!”
“I can see that it is a tricky question to consider,” said Jane, “how outspoken to be in order to be heard whilst not causing too much enmity towards those one would champion.”
She gave Jackie a nod of dismissal; his political views might prove interesting but there was something she was looking for; and she perused each paper in turn.
None of them gave any more information than the Morning Post she took herself.
Mr Armitage found Jane examining the relevant passage that she had clipped out of each of the papers that carried it – which was not all – frowning.
“I may be being stupid” she said.
“Unlikely,” said Caleb, “tell me about it.”
Jane had an excellent and retentive memory; and relayed the conversation with Sir Richard including the tones and facial expressions.
“Sounds a dashed queer cove to me” said Caleb. “What’s all this stuff?”
“I asked Jackie to get me papers, all the ones he could, that were printed on Monday or Sunday” said Jane “Read these; you’ll see why.”
Caleb read through them and his eyebrow gradually elevated. He whistled.
“Very clever of you Jane-girl” he said.
“Unless anything was reported before” said Jane.
He shook his head.
“Bow Street don’t let out anythink – anything – but the barest and baldest of facts; a robbery took place such-and-such, a body was found so-and-so, identified as so-and-so; no details just in case, see? Especially with robberies account o’ finding the baubles. ‘cept a list is circulated to jewellers and ‘opes the expensive ones at least is honest. I dunno if you were right to say he might come back; but then if he’s got somethink – something – to do wiv all this….. ‘course he could say he were Sir Richard Malodorous or whatever, but how do we know he is?”
“Marjoram” said Jane mildly. “We do not; how pleasant it would be if somebody would but make a complete list of the peerage to check such things! However if one might follow him when he calls again, the size and location of his lodging might be some indication as to the veracity of his claim. Bearing in mind his blatant lies I can but assume that he is one of the same stamp as that footman James Ripon; a butler perhaps who has learned to support the manner of a peer. Not that I have much idea how a ‘Sir’ or a ‘Lady’ might be in any wise different to any other of the gentry if indeed they are.”
“Well the odd few I’ve tangled with vary from bein’ gents through and through to bein’ arrogant and stiff rumped” said Caleb. “Which ain’t any guide nowise. Well I don’t say someone born in the purple ain’t necessarily not goin’ to be a wrong ‘un; look at Frank. Who might have been half flash half foolish but a fly cove who’s weak enough to need a quick way to the readies….. yes, he shall be followed. I don’t like to ask, but a bit of blunt to throw about would help.”
Jane unlocked the small chest in which she kept cash.
“Take what you need” she said “There’s a mix of coin in there.”
“I will write you a receipt for it” said Caleb.
“Very well; it will make you more comfortable and will mean I keep track” said Jane.
Caleb took a selection of coins, and counted them out to write a reckoning.
“I don’t know that I shall use all this but it is useful to have more than you need rather than less” he said.
“I have noticed this also with household accounts” said Jane demurely.
“And you keep them with such a neat and pretty hand,” said Caleb, “no man would feel he had to stand over a woman keeping such excellent accounts but he might decide to do so anyway just to breathe the scent of her hair and admire her neat and well shaped hand pursuing of its most efficient endeavours…….”
“Mr Armitage you are flirting again” said Jane in a tone of reproach that her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyed belied.
“Why Mrs Churchill! I’m afraid I am!” said Caleb not sounding in the least bit apologetic.
“And why I should accept it from you when I would not accept it from Sir Richard Marjoram I am at a loss to consider!” said Jane with an attempt at severity.
“Because I’m sincere about it and that havy-cavy cove is deucedly smoky and too false by half” s
aid Caleb. “Besides you don’t want nothink – anything I mean – to do with him.”
“Implying of course that I am willing to flirt with you? You are a presumptuous man, Mr Armitage” said Jane.
“Not half as presumptuous as a fribble who thinks you’ll fall into the arms of someone you don’t know for the waving of a title at you,” said Caleb, “and has me wondering what his lay might be!”
“Indeed; it is puzzling,” said Jane, “and you have managed to turn the subject from my ringing a peal over you!”
“Adept at it, ain’t I?” said Caleb. “A skill I picked up in the army.”
“Mr Armitage you are a most complete hand” said Jane sternly. “And you have work to do in collecting your army of beggars to follow Marjoram!”
Caleb brought a filthy small boy to see Jane some hours later. The child had a lopsided face and a withered arm under which was jammed a rude crutch to compensate in some part for the atrophied and dragging leg.
“This yere is Simmy; he’s as sharp as the taste of Norfolk mustard,” said Caleb, “and he already knows something about our Sir Richard.”
“Strite up I do,” said Simmy, “see, when I heered that Mr Armitage was stayin’ ‘ere, wot finds jobs for me, I hopped up as fast as I could toddle, see, Lidy, bein’s as ‘ow nobody don’t take no notice of a kinchin-zad, wot Mr Armitage find dead useful right? So I’m hangin’ abaht, and this plum-voiced servant come aht an give me a half-bord wot she say is from the lidy – that’s you, right?”
“Kinchin-zad is a cripple child” explained Caleb.
“Indeed” murmured Jane, who had standing orders to Ella to give largesse to any deserving beggars she caught sight of, and feeling faintly ashamed that she had been too caught up in her own troubles to have noticed this pathetic scrap of humanity for herself. “Ella is my dresser; she is a kind woman.”
“Ar, she gimme a groat from herself,” said Simmy, “which I took most kindly; and she didn’t make no condition that I should make meself scarce neether. Wot some swell morts and their servants do see?”
Death of a Fop (Bow Street Consultant series Book 1) Page 16
