“He’s refused to load them, as Mr. Stoker made clear to your second. You know he cannot defend himself. His pistols are useless.”
“My conscience is clear, ma’am.”
The light drizzle worsened to a cold, soaking rain. Jane let fall her skirt and reached into her pocket.
In the distance, she heard Seelye yell, “Jane!” and Mr. Stoker’s anxious “Stand still, my lord, or you’ll force the duel!”
Daly kept his eyes forward, watching Seelye’s every move.
“Did you know you’re about to kill a beloved war hero?” she asked more conversationally.
“Hero? Not hardly.”
“He doesn’t give a toss, Jane. Please, go,” Seelye called out.
“That man is one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
His beetle brows flew up. “That true? You one of them?” he asked Seelye.
“You needn’t mind that. I’m a dead man whatever happens. It may be your doing here, or her brother’s in London,” Seelye said. “Six of one, half-dozen of another.”
“I should also point out,” Jane cut in, “that if you kill Lord Seelye, you will face his three comrades next. I’ll see that they hear of this travesty.”
“She has got to go,” he yelled to Seelye. “Can’t you control your woman?”
“Do you imagine the bear was my idea?” Seelye asked blandly.
“She’s ruining our damned duel,” the Irishman complained.
“My apologies,” Seelye said and lifted his pistols with a shrug. “I’d offer to shoot myself for you, if I could.”
Daly chuckled despite himself. To her, he said, “Hate to admit but I like him. You, no, him, yes,” Then he addressed himself to Seelye: “Just so I understand, you did not load your pistols, truly?”
“On my honor.”
“But you’d still face me over that bear you brought here.”
“Gave my word to see the bear safe. You can kill me but you’ll be shot as a poacher if you go looking for it,” Seelye said. “Besides, it’s hardly sporting to hunt an animal that comes when called.”
For a tense moment, the patter of rain was the only sound in the field.
He turned to her slowly. “And how does this concern you, my lady?”
“I intend to marry him. If you want to punish him, let him live. I’ll see to the rest.”
He choked on a laugh and said, “I don’t doubt you will,” then yelled to Seelye, “A rare minx, this one.”
“I am waiting, sir,” she said, hand in pocket, ready to act.
“Meant no disrespect,” he told her. “Fact is, you remind me of someone I do like. That’d be my own Charlotte, God love her.”
Jane sensed an opportunity. “Are you and your wife often in London?”
“I serve in Parliament off and on,” he replied.
“Then you also know I’m rather good ton despite everything. I could help your unmarried daughters, should you have any. As it happens, I am acquainted with all the most eligible men in England. I’m not popular with them,” she allowed, “but my introduction would carry a great deal of weight as a proper matron. The rub is, I will only marry,” she pointed at Seelye, “that man.”
Raindrops bedewed Daly’s silver beetle brows while he gaped at her, looked at Seelye, and back at her.
By now, Jane was soaked and shivering. Cold rivulets coursed down her chilled face and neck to drench the bodice of her pelisse. Raindrops dripped off her nose; yet, she stood resolute, ankle deep in mire and prepared to pull a pistol on him if need be.
“I should warn you, sir, I am trying to reform my worst tendencies, but if persuasion fails, I’m prepared to live up to every epithet I’ve earned.”
All of a sudden, the Irishman’s expression changed.
“Now, now, no need for that, my lady.” His hard eyes softened. “We’ve only the one girl still at home, our youngest, Rose. She’s my pet, I’ll admit. And pretty, too. The wife’d love to see her make a splendid match, but Martin’s got the seat for the next two years.”
“I will sponsor Rose in high style, but only if you will accept Lord Seelye’s apology and end this duel. Now.” She gripped the pistol’s ivory butt out of sight.
“What about the bear?” Daly asked, testy once again.
“Jane, he is concerned for his family,” Seelye said and walked his pistols over to Stoker.
“That I am, my lord. I’ve a right to protect them, haven’t I?”
“You do. Jane, do you hear?” Seelye said and approached them slowly.
“A bear at large?” he exclaimed. “I’ve my grandchildren to think of.”
“Why don’t you meet Bibendum—let your whole family meet him—before you condemn him, Mr. Daly,” she said, her finger still on the trigger.
“You’re mad,” he scoffed.
“He does tricks and dances a little. Your grandchildren will enjoy it,” she said, shivering harder.
“Surely, they would, but they haven’t the sense of bottle flies. They’d like as not go looking for him in the woods and get themselves mauled.”
“He’ll be far away. I promise, there must be a way to live and let live.”
“I’d be daft to do it,” he said with a drawn-out sigh. “But for Rose, I’ll have your apology, Lord Seelye.”
Jane exhaled the breath she’d been holding and released the pistol.
“I apologize most sincerely,” Seelye said formally and held out his hand to the Irishman. “I am sorry for striking you.”
Daly clasped it and added, “I’m glad it was you who hit me, not her. I heard that slap from here.”
Next, Jane clasped Daly’s hand in both of hers and said through chattering teeth, “And I ap-pologize for ruining your d-duel.”
Seelye wrapped his thick greatcoat around her. Nothing could stop her teeth from rattling. Nothing could warm her hands or feet. He tried to turn her toward Martin’s carriage where Mr. Stoker waited. She held her ground.
“W-when would you like to meet B-bibendum?”
“The sooner the better for my peace of mind,” he replied. “And if the beast ain’t what you say—”
“Tomorrow, say, teatime?” Seelye spoke up before the Irishman could finish the threat.
Daly addressed Jane directly, “If your bear’s not what you say, if I still think it’s a threat, Lady Jane, you will allow me to put it down without delay or roundaboutation, have I your word?”
Jane shook with chills, her head ached, her throat burned, but she refused to look away.
“Yes, I understand your concern and I agree to your condition. Bring your family. I look forward to meeting them. Thank you for keeping an open mind.”
Daly bowed to her and walked to Farmer Duane and his carriage.
“Jane, your lips are blue,” Seelye scolded. “You need a hot bath immediately.”
“Then I m-must see to Bibendum. He must be p-perfectly sweet and ob-bedient.”
Chapter 44
In which our hero bears the blame.
The morning dawned fair, much to Seelye’s satisfaction. At breakfast, his relief evaporated with the dew. Jane looked feverish, her eyes over-bright and her bare hand clammy to the touch.
“You’re not well,” he said, seating her.
“I’ll be right as a trivet after some tea.”
“I wish you’d told me you took a chill last night,” he said. “We could’ve sent for a doctor to physic you then. You must rest. We’ll have to postpone.”
“We mustn’t,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I’m fine.”
He saw she wasn’t well but feared arguing would tax her more. With Thomas Martin’s approval, he sent Mr. Stoker to Oughterard for the nearest doctor.
Jane sipped her tea. Given her previous trencherman-like enjoyment of food, her nibbles of toasted bread alarmed him. Worse, she insisted on practicing with Bibendum on the lawn in the dank morning air.
Julia Martin and Mary looked on while she drilled the bear. If Miss Mar
tin’s reaction was any indication, Daly’s grandchildren would be enchanted when Bibendum played pat-a-cake with Jane.
Afterward, she allowed him to take her inside to rest before the guests arrived. By mid-afternoon, she looked less well but more determined.
At the appointed hour, the Daly clan arrived in three carriages. When the last rolled to a halt, Seelye heard muffled squeals and clapping inside. A footman climbed down from the back of each to let down the step.
From the first stepped Mr. Bowes Daly and his wife, a portly, older woman with a fair, benevolent countenance, along with a younger, matronly woman and a shy young lady. From the second came two men, younger than Daly but prosperous-looking, and two sturdy lads. From the third carriage issued forth a tumble of four young children, equally boys and girls. Their two harried nannies scrambled to herd them in one direction.
Daly and his wife approached the Martins, Seelye and Jane.
“Good day, Martin, Mrs. Martin,” Daly said with stiff formality. “Lord Seelye, Lady Jane, may I present my wife, Charlotte, and my youngest girl, Rose. And this is my eldest, Susan with her husband, George Skerrett. That’s my eldest son, John, and his boy Denis, and Susan’s boy, William,” he said with pride when the boys bowed properly to Jane.
They were brushed aside by the swarm of small Dalys and Skerretts.
The man who was grandsire to this giggling mob chuckled, “And these rascals would be George, John Peter, Kate and Hyacinth.”
Seelye’s head swam. He had no hope of recalling everyone’s name, rattled off with such familiarity, and regretted the inevitable faux pas of forgetting them. He bowed politely and kept his mouth shut.
“May I introduce Lady Jane Babcock?” Seelye said to the group. The Daly women curtseyed, the men bowed. Jane astonished him by greeting each Daly and Skerrett by name without error or hesitation.
This was Jane at her most gracious, he thought. Winning over Daly’s family was half the battle. Seelye excused himself to fetch the bear.
Bibendum was in fine fettle, happy to accompany him and partake again of fascinating scents wafting through the Irish air. They rounded the manor’s corner and approached the gathering on the lawn.
The bear, in his red leather collar and matching muzzle, ambled up to Jane, wagged his head and murmured greetings in Bear.
To her audience, Jane said, “Please be seated on the blankets.” She turned to the bear, “Bibendum, if you will sit.”
She swept her hand down and the bear sat on his haunches. The children clapped and laughed. Next, Jane gave Bibendum his favorite red India rubber ball which he juggled after a manner. The children cheered. With another gesture, Bibendum let the ball fall and accepted the crowd’s accolades with ursine paws clapping, too.
Jane addressed the children: “Your grandfather has been kind enough to let me introduce you to my dear friend, Bibendum. I hope you like him.”
William cried, “I’ve never seen a bear before. He’s brilliant.”
“Say hello to William,” Jane said. The bear pointed his upper lip. At her gesture, he waved a big paw in the air and murmured while Jane named each child in turn.
With the second round of introductions concluded, Seelye patted the bear’s big, furry head and offered him a chunk of dried fish.
In no time, the Daly and Skerrett children were chanting, “Bibendum, Bibendum.” With Jane’s encouragement, the bear stood on hind legs to accept their ovation.
Startled, Daly excused himself to retrieve the shot gun from his carriage.
“Eh, eh eh!” Jane interceded before the screeches of the little ones overexcited the bear. She made him sit again. “Now that Bibendum knows you, children, quietly say hello to him.”
Obediently, they said, “Hello, Bibendum.”
“Bibendum is an actor of sorts,” she explained. “He’s performed for people nearly as long as he’s been a bear. He’s worked a long time to make people happy, hasn’t he?”
She paused, gasped once, and sneezed, after which she dabbed her nose with a bit of lace tucked up her pelisse sleeve.
As if he shared Seelye’s concern, Bibendum leaned over and nudged her hand with his muzzled snout, “Mmmmmmuphgh.”
“That means ‘God bless you’ in Bear,” Jane extemporized.
The girls nodded approval.
Jane wavered where she stood. Seelye saw the faint color in her cheeks fade. The effort and anxiety had exhausted her and yet she soldiered on, her bare hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white.
“He came here to Mr. Martin’s estate to perform his farewell engagement just for you. Do you know why?”
The children shook their heads.
“He hopes to retire from performing and live quietly right here—”
“Bibendum, here?” John Peter exclaimed and the other lad cheered.
“—but your grandfather is concerned that you won’t let him retire,” she continued. “Your Grandpapa thinks you’ll seek Bibendum out, which might make him cross, even though you’ve been formally introduced. Your grandpapa loves you all very much and would never allow anyone to hurt you.”
“We’ll be nice to Bibendum,” little Kate piped up.
“I’m sure you would be, but I’m afraid that won’t do, Miss Kate. If you want Bibendum to be your neighbor, you have a much more difficult task before you. Your grandpapa is afraid that you’re not yet big enough to understand how important it is that each of you fulfills this task to the letter.” She fell silent to stifle another sneeze. “Will you do what you must to keep Bibendum and you safe?”
She looked at each child and waited to hear, “Yes.”
“Very well. If you wish to be Bibendum’s neighbor, you must promise to never look for him. You must never, ever, try to learn his direction or call on him. You must let him to retire to be a bear.”
Consternation and protests erupted among the littlest and Jane waited, swaying where she stood.
When they quieted, she told them, “Bibendum will not wish to be home to callers. So if you look for him, he might growl or try to frighten you away.”
“Because he wants to retire,” Hyacinth said solemnly, “and he doesn’t want to perform tricks anymore. Even for friends.”
“Yes, Hyacinth. I knew you would understand.”
“But what if we happen to find him and he becomes cross with us?” William asked cagily.
“Then your grandfather will kill him.”
“Kill our bear?” was the general outcry.
Five pairs of eyes cut to Daly and his shot gun. Glares pinned him in place. Lips quivered, little faces crumpled.
“You wouldn’t!” Mary Martin cried.
“He couldn’t!” Hyacinth warbled and turned to her grandfather, but Daly’s silence condemned him. “He’s our friend!” she cried and ran sobbing to her grandmother. “I hate Grandpapa!”
Put out, Daly tried in vain to quell the high-pitched reproaches rising all around him.
“Now, now, poppets, don’t vex yourselves. I won’t hurt the bear so long as he’s a good bear.”
“He’s a very good bear,” Hyacinth cried in anguish. “How could you?”
Angry, reddened eyes accused him when spittle-stringed mouths weren’t. Daly cast a beleaguered look Jane’s way.
“Eh! Eh! Eh!” she said loudly and clapped her hands. “Quiet, please.”
The keening and denunciations died away.
“Your grandpapa doesn’t wish to hurt Bibendum, but he will to keep you safe. That’s why you must let Bibendum retire. Hyacinth, do you love him enough to do what’s best for him, though it’s a very hard thing for you to do?”
“I d-do,” the littlest girl hiccuped, “After today, I n-n-never want to see Bibendum again.” In the next breath, she apologized to the bear, “We’ll still be friends but it’s for your own good.”
“He couldn’t ask for a better friend than you—” A wracking cough interrupted her.
Seelye, strode to her side and said, “Jan
e, you’re ill.”
“Almost done,” she replied and rallied. “What say the rest of you?”
The eldest boy, Denis, spoke up, “Lady Jane, Bibendum can retire here. We promise to leave him be. And I’ll personally thrash anyone who tries to find him. Is that clear, you little monsters?”
The younger boys bobbed their heads.
“Perhaps you’d like to say good-bye now.”
“Good luck, Bibendum,” John Peter said.
“Very nice to meet you,” Hyacinth said with a quick curtsey. “Good-bye.”
After all their farewells, Charlotte Daly thanked Julia Martin for hosting them and Jane for providing an unforgettable entertainment. Seelye led Bibendum back to the peace and quiet of his crate.
* * *
Jane’s head pounded painfully but she forced herself to see the matter through with Mr. Daly. He had not been entirely convinced of the bear’s good behavior. So before the Skerretts and Dalys left, she held Mr. Daly’s feet to the fire to guarantee Bibendum’s safety with his extended family looking on.
“Are you now satisfied my bear poses no threat to your family?” she asked loud enough to draw everyone’s attention.
Feeling his loved ones’ eyes on him, he relented to a degree, “Lord Seelye and Young Mr. Martin’ll take him far away, will they?”
“Very far, where there are fish to catch and berries, grass and grubs to find. And by late autumn, he’ll seek shelter to hibernate over the winter.”
“And when he gets lonely for another bear?”
“According to books on the subject, bears are solitary creatures. They’re content to live as bachelors in the absence of females.”
“If he’s so tame, how will he feed himself? Won’t he come after easy prey like my sweet poppet Hyacinth?”
“I have seen for myself that Bibendum is a capable forager,” Jane stated. “Now, do I have your word of honor that you will do him no harm?”
“Fine, I’ll not shoot him.”
If Seelye had not returned at the moment, solemn and watchful, she might’ve allowed the man’s slippery promise to suffice. But he stood by her and took her arm to steady her. He felt her shiver and moved closer to share his warmth. With him beside her, she was having none of Daly’s evasiveness.
His Lordship's Last Wager Page 37
