The Chaperone Bride

by Marina Oliver

  'I don't believe he has,' she said. 'Should he have done so?'

  'He probably wouldn't dare. He didn't dare to come and see me, just sent me a letter to tell me he was getting married. For the sake of the children, he said, and to provide a chaperone after his old cousin died. What nonsense! If he needed a wife to play propriety, why could he not have married me? He's used me for the past five years, whenever it suited him, making it his excuse that his cousin would be shocked if he remarried. Well, she's dead now. I suppose, because you are younger, and no doubt brought him a fine dowry, he decided to finish with me. Not without making it worth my while, my lady! I'll make sure of that!'

  Joanna felt a sinking in her stomach. Of course Sir Kenelm would have had a chère amie, he'd told her as much, and she knew it was normal for most men to keep mistresses, especially men who did not have wives, but she had never expected to meet her. For a moment she found herself deploring his taste, and stifled a sudden giggle. Perhaps men preferred such bold and buxom women as mistresses? It was still remarkably brazen of the woman to force her way into the house. What ought she to do? She could have the woman thrown out, she supposed, but would that be what Sir Kenelm would want? It might lead to more scandal, for she could not imagine Mrs Kirk going quietly.

  'Excuse me for a moment. I will go and ask whether any of the servants know when Sir Kenelm will be back. Your business is, after all, with him, not me.'

  The woman laughed. 'You can be sure of that!'

  Joanna escaped, and stood for a moment in the hall, wondering what to do. Who could she ask? She began to move towards the kitchens, where she would find Firbank in his pantry, but before she reached them Sir Kenelm himself came through the door leading out into the stable yard, carrying his whip. Joanna gave a gasp of relief

  'Oh, Kenelm!' she exclaimed, unaware she had for the first time omitted his title. 'There's a woman to see you! Selina Kirk, she says she is, from Leeds. I don't know what to do with her!'

  He stared at her in astonishment.

  'That woman? How dare she come here? Throw her in the lake! I paid her off, and handsomely. Has she been impertinent?'

  Joanna tried not to giggle. Now he was here the situation was under control, and not her responsibility. This seemed a most unlikely conversation, a husband and wife discussing the husband's mistress, but they were not a normal married couple. Joanna was not ignorant, having lived with the camp followers in the Peninsula, and she understood that men had certain needs. If Sir Kenelm had no mistress, what would he do? Perhaps he had another? She looked at him speculatively and he flushed slightly. For a wild moment she considered offering to supply these needs herself, and then remembered he did not want her in that way. She would merely disgust him by her immodesty.

  'She seems to think you discarded her, refused to marry her, because I had a large dowry,' Joanna said hurriedly, trying not to blush.

  'She actually thought I might marry her?'

  Joanna had to laugh at his appalled expression.

  'She assumed you could not while your Cousin Georgina was alive,' she explained.

  'Did she? Well, I will soon disabuse her of that notion! As if I would even contemplate marrying a woman such as her!'

  He marched into the drawing room, dragging his riding whip through his hands as though he were about to use it. Joanna picked up her skirts and fled up to her bedroom, and concealed herself behind the curtain. Would Kenelm get rid of her? How soon might she see the wretched woman depart, on her way back to Leeds?

  *

  Chapter 5

  Sally was carrying clean clothes for the twins from the laundry, along the passageway on the schoolroom floor, when she heard Miss Busby's voice. The new governess had not endeared herself to the servants, treating them with condescension and complaining when her food was not hot, or there was not enough wood in her rooms to build up the fires. The schoolroom door was not quite closed, and Sally paused, listening, wondering how the woman treated the twins. Was she as stern with them as she seemed?

  'Can you see? George, look at how I have drawn this map, and tell me how far away London is?'

  'It's over two hundred miles,' George said. 'That's a very long way, isn't it?

  'And it's half a mile to the church,' Amelia said. 'That would be there and back over two hundred times! Fancy walking all that way, it would take months!'

  'Would you like to go there? It's a very big town, much bigger than Leeds, and there are lots of interesting things to see.'

  That, Sally thought, did not seem like a stern governess. Were they all wrong about Miss Busby? They didn't like her in the servants' hall, but then governesses were in between, not part of the family, nor servants, and they tended to keep themselves to themselves, and perhaps stand on their dignity. It wasn't the sort of life Sally would enjoy.

  'Lions in the Tower!' George said. 'I want to see those. And a hanging at Tyburn! I'd like to see a murderer swinging on the end of a rope!'

  Sally grinned. All little boys seemed the same, whether they were born in a cottage or a palace. She was about to move on when Miss Busby's next words halted her.

  'Your father will probably go there soon. His new wife will make him take her.'

  'And us?' George asked, sounding excited. 'Will he take us? Will we be going too?'

  'I won't go with her!' This was Amelia. 'I hate her! She's not our Mama and I won't call her that!'

  'Oh, your step-mother will not take you,' Miss Busby said, and laughed. 'She does not like children, and will want to have your father to herself. You will stay here with me. It will not be for more than half a year, I suppose.'

  How dare she say this to the children, Sally wondered, feeling rising anger within her. She held her hand out to the door and then paused. She could do nothing herself.

  'Half a year? Papa will leave us here for that long? All by ourselves? That's horrid!'

  The child was devastated, and beginning to sob.

  'Well, Amelia, you know he has a new wife now. She will want to spend the months of the Season in London. You know what that is? The Season?

  'No. What is it? I thought winter and summer were the seasons.'

  Miss Busby laughed. 'Yes, they are, but this is a different kind of season. It is from March to June, when rich people like your father and his new wife go to London where they attend lots of parties, and the theatre, and balls. And then they will probably go to Brighton for a month or two. Look, here it is on my map, south of London. The Prince Regent has a wonderful palace there. People go there for several weeks, in July and August.'

  'But it's our birthday in August,' George said. 'Won't Papa be here then? He never goes away on our birthday.'

  'She'll make him!' Amelia said, and Sally thought she swallowed a sob. 'I hate her!'

  'You'll have to ask him, child, and try if you can persuade him to come home for it. Perhaps he will, if he loves you. Birthdays are really special occasions, aren't they?'

  'If she will let him!'

  Sally wanted to burst into the room and tell the nasty, vicious woman not to tell such lies to the children. Sir Kenelm occasionally went to London, but he never stayed away from home for more than a month. And if he went to Leeds, to visit the Kirk woman, it was only for a day or so. But it would not serve. She went slowly to the twins' bedrooms and began to put the clean linen away, thinking hard. The woman was clearly intent on making the twins resent the new Lady Childe. Well, she would soon discover it did her no good! She, Sally, would make sure of that.

  *

  Potts had been sent somewhere, Joanna discovered, when she and Sir Kenelm went for a ride. It was one of the under grooms who saddled up their horses. Joanna had progressed to a more sprightly mare than Polly, and she really enjoyed these expeditions, and had even ventured to make one or two on her own, though a groom always rode behind her.

  'Just at first, in case you get lost, my dear,' Sir Kenelm had said. 'It is surprisingly easy to miss one's way on the moors, especially if ther
e is a mist, and they can descend very quickly, without warning.'

  It was only just over a week until Christmas, but so far the snow had not come. It was not, she thought, going to be such a harsh winter as that of last year, when the Thames had frozen over for four days in the February of 1814. She had been with some of the girls to see the stalls set up in the middle of the river. It had been almost her last outing, for her father had appeared in May and taken her away from the school.

  She was getting to know the tenants on the farms, and in the village. She had met the vicar, the innkeeper, and most of Sir Kenelm's farm tenants. They had, she thought, been welcoming, as had his house servants. He was clearly a much admired landlord, who kept his farms and the houses in good condition and looked after his tenants and their families. One or two of the wives had whispered to her that they were pleased he was once more married, for, as one of them said, his first marriage had been somewhat of a disaster. They wanted him to be happy, for they liked him and it had taken him a long time to get over his first wife's death.

  'Not that he was sorrowing for her,' the most outspoken farm wife said. 'I think he waited so long because he did not wish to risk another bad marriage. But I can see you are nothing like her, and will make him happy.'

  If only they knew, Joanna thought wryly. She did her best, for she was enormously grateful to him for rescuing her from penury, but in the unusual conditions of this marriage there was only a limited comfort and support she could offer him.

  It was growing dark when they returned to the Castle, and they followed Potts, driving the curricle, into the stable yard.

  He nodded to them, handed the horses over to grooms, and gave Sir Kenelm a small satchel.

  'Was all well?'

  'Yes, Sir Kenelm.'

  'Go and eat your dinner, and I'll see you in the morning.'

  Potts raised his eyebrows, then nodded and turned away, while Sir Kenelm took Joanna's arm and led her into the house.

  'We shall be late for dinner too, if we do not hasten,' he said.

  Joanna frowned and glanced up at the stable clock, which had been fixed to one of the higher walls of the ruined keep. It was only four o'clock, and they had plenty of time. She shrugged, and went inside the house and up to her bedroom. She might have time to finish sewing the blond lace onto the bodice of her new evening gown, and then she could wear it that evening.

  It was a delicate rose colour, the bodice cut low, and she had a deeper rose Paisley patterned shawl to wear with it. Sir Kenelm was always aware of her new gowns, and complimented her on her skill in creating them. None of the other men she had known, her father or the other solders in his regiment, had ever noticed things like this. Maybe it was because in the army they did not have many new gowns, so she could scarcely blame them.

  She was just setting the final stitches when Betsy came into the bedroom, looking flustered, and carrying two jugs of hot water.

  'My lady, I didn't know you were back. I'm sorry, I'm late.'

  'I didn't ring, Betsy, there's plenty of time. I want to wear my new gown tonight. I've been sewing on the lace.'

  'You'll not keep it for Christmas Day?' Betsy asked as she poured water into the bowl.

  'No, I will wear the green one, that will be ready in a day or so. With your help I am acquiring new gowns much faster than I thought possible. Now, help me take my habit off. I was in such haste to finish trimming my gown for this evening I did not bother.'

  *

  'Nanny, can I talk to you?'

  Sally stood in the doorway of Nanny's sitting room, looking around as though she expected someone else to be there.

  'Sally, of course, dear. Come in.'

  'Are the twins asleep?'

  'Yes, but what is it, child? You look worried, and that's not your normal cheerful self.'

  She put aside the stockings she had been darning and waved Sally to a chair.

  'Pull that nearer the fire and sit down.'

  Sally came into Nanny's sitting room and sat on the low chair beside the fire, opposite the older woman. She took a deep breath, twisted her hands together, and told her what she had heard Miss Busby saying to the twins.

  'I know I ought not to have listened, but I was so surprised by what she was saying. She's deliberately trying to make the twins hate her ladyship! All this nonsense about wicked step-mothers! And anyone can see her ladyship is one of the sweetest creatures I've seen in a long time. Just the sort of wife Sir Kenelm needs. But that wicked woman will cause trouble if she can. Why? That's what I can't understand, unless it's wicked jealousy that her ladyship's so much prettier than she is! But what shall I do?'

  Nanny sat for a few moments, staring into the fire. Then she looked up at Sally and sighed deeply.

  'It's had me worried, too, some of the things Miss Amelia comes out with. It's natural, I suppose, she don't wish to share her Papa with a new wife, but it's not as though she ever knew her own mother. I thought, when I saw her, it would be Miss Busby the twins would dislike, for she's ever so stern with them, and makes them work twice as hard as they did with Miss Tucker. But she's clever, she's seen how it is with Amelia, and she makes out she agrees with her. So the child can't see what she's doing.'

  'But what can we do, Nanny? It can't be left .We've got to do something or Miss Amelia will go on hating her ladyship.'

  'I don't like carrying tales, Sally, but you're right, this wickedness has to be stopped.'

  Sally breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled.

  'Ought I to tell her ladyship what I heard?'

  Nanny sat silently for a while, then shook her head.

  'There isn't much she can do about it, is there? It wouldn't do to have her and the Busby woman arguing. No, we must tell Sir Kenelm. It's the only way, he has to know what's going on before he can put a stop to it. And if I know him, he will put a stop to it, even if it means dismissing this wonderful new governess he's so proud of engaging, with all her fancy accomplishments!'

  Sally nodded.

  'Then let's tell him in the morning, while the twins are with that woman. Thanks, Nanny. It's had me right worried. Miss Joanna – I mean her ladyship, is such a pleasant one, and so pretty and friendly to everyone. Why, Sir Kenelm looks so much happier since they wed.'

  *

  Joanna, in her new gown, reached the library where they usually met before dinner a few minutes before Firbank formally announced it. Sir Kenelm just had time, after complimenting her on the new gown, to hand her a somewhat crumpled letter.

  'Potts brought it back from Harrogate,' he said. 'I suspect it is from Aberdeen, but it seems to have been sitting in your late landlady's house for some time. Why she could not have sent it on to you here as she was asked, I can't imagine. She had the address.'

  'Did Potts collect it?'

  'Yes. I asked him, while he was in Leeds, to call on the chance something had come. Well, don't you wish to read it?'

  Joanna looked at the letter, then shook her head. 'Not until afterwards, if you please. I would not wish to offend Cook, and I happen to know she has your favourite, roast duck, tonight.'

  He laughed. 'The perfect wife, knowing the priorities,' he said lightly, and Joanna blushed.

  They chatted about some of Sir Kenelm's concerns on the estate, and as Potts had brought back the most recent issues of The Times and the Morning Post Sir Kenelm was able to tell her the latest news. He did not allow them to linger over the meal, however, and Joanna was soon back in the library, looking in some trepidation at her letter.

  Was it bad news? But if her father's aunt and uncle were dead, that was all she expected, for they were very old. She broke the seal, and sat, unwilling to unfold the single sheet. Sir Kenelm had picked up one of the newspapers, and was hidden behind it, so she eventually she spread out the letter and began to read the rather spidery writing.

  'It's from a cousin,' she said after a moment. 'I did not know Papa's aunt and uncle had any children. Indeed, Papa seemed to believe they would leave
their money to him. He – his name is Gordon – says he is sorry to hear of Papa's death, and invites me to visit them, and make my home with him and his wife. And he has several children, too. His own parents died ten years ago, but he didn't have Papa's direction, or even know which regiment he was serving in, so he apologises for not having informed us.'

  She handed him the letter and he swiftly read it, then folded it and handed it back, looked steadily at her.

  'Do you wish to visit them? Do you wish this letter had arrived before you married me?'

  'No! How could I? Why, I don't know them, and they never kept in touch with Papa. Surely they could have contacted the War Office to find out where he was, or have a letter redirected? Unless, that is, you would like me to leave? The twins will never accept me, and I am afraid of coming between you. I suppose it would be possible to obtain an annulment, since we have never been – since I am a wife in name only.'

  'You regret our marriage?'

  Joanna shook her head. She could not regret having been rescued by this kind, considerate man, even though their situation was such an odd one.

  'I would be an ungrateful wretch if I did, after all the kindnesses you have shown me, the gifts I have received from you! But you? It is not how you imagined it to be, with me being a Mama to the twins.'

  'That, my dear, is not your fault. If you agree, write to them and tell them of our marriage. Perhaps, soon, we could visit them. Do they know how your father met his death?'

  Joanna shook her head. 'No, I simply said he had died, and therefore I was hoping to support myself by obtaining a position as a governess. I was too ashamed to tell them the truth.'

  'Then do not now. Don't give them many details, just the fact of your marriage.'

  *

  Did this unknown cousin with his large family think he could make use of Joanna as an unpaid governess, Sir Kenelm wondered. He felt a surge of anger. Only when they discovered she was alone in the world, and in need of earning a living, did they bother to write to her. He was very suspicious of such sudden, and unexpected, offers of help.