The girl stepped closer to him and looked earnestly into his face as she whispered, ‘He hasn’t even seen me properly, Papa. Does he know what colour I am? Does he realise that I’m black?’ As she spoke she pushed up her loose-flowing sleeve and held out a bare arm towards him, turning it slowly under his gaze. The matt skin was a glorious copper colour and looked as soft as satin.
Martha gave a stricken sob but Canny cried out, ‘Oh, my bairn! Oh, Odilie, you’re not black. Who told you that lie? Joe’s black, you’re not the same colour as Joe.’ The girl shook down her sleeve again and stared bleakly at him. ‘As far as snobbish white people are concerned, I’m black. I never told you about the girls at that horrible school in London you sent me to because I didn’t want to upset you. They teased me all the time and called me the Negress. They used to recoil from me because they said if I brushed against them I’d make them dirty… now you want to pay a Duke to marry me and set me up in their kind of society where I’ll face sniggers and talk like that all my life. I’ll be called the black Duchess! How could you do such a thing if you love me?’
Desperately her father reached out and hugged his child to him. ‘I never think of you as being any colour, Odilie. You’re my lovely daughter, who has the same beauty as your mother and she was a Creole with skin like polished gold. In spite of what they say about him, the Duke’s got eyes in his head. He can see that you’re the most beautiful girl in the whole countryside. Any man would be proud to marry you.’
Odilie allowed herself to be comforted, sobbing in her father’s arms, ‘Oh, you don’t understand. I hate the taunts, I really hate them… That’s why I miss Jamaica so much.’
Canny groaned for this was a revelation to him. His dusky-skinned wife had been an acclaimed beauty and having lived for many years among coloured people, he was totally without prejudice. He genuinely loved Odilie and it pierced his soul to realise that she could be hurt by cruel and unthinking people.
‘Don’t take on my dear, don’t upset yourself. I’ll make sure he knows about your colour and we’ll go about this affair carefully. You don’t have to decide one way or another till you’ve met him properly and that can be arranged during the celebrations of St James’ Fair.’
‘She hasn’t very long to wait, in that case. The Fair’s next Monday,’ came Martha’s disapproving voice.
Chapter 2
It was impossible to keep a secret in Lauriston. After Canny Rutherford left the lawyer’s office, Andrew Elliot appeared in his counting house on the ground floor and laid a sheet of paper on the top of the high desk at which his senior clerk was sitting. ‘Copy this letter out and send it up to the Duke at Sloebank Castle,’ he ordered. Before he left the room a thought struck him and he turned back to add, ‘And keep what’s in it to yourself.’
When, a few minutes later, he hurried down the stairs again and strode off in the direction of Roxburgh Street and his home, Viewhill House, the clerks all clustered around their senior’s desk and craned their heads over his shoulder to decipher what he was writing.
It was so interesting that Elliot was hardly out of sight when the youngest clerk went running across the square to the shop of Tom Burns, the provision merchant, to break the astonishing news that Canny Rutherford was going to marry his daughter to the Duke.
Soon every shop around the square was buzzing with the news as the townspeople discussed this sensation.
‘I mind Canny when he was a wee laddie – a poor wee white-faced thing like a ghostie. Aye starvin’ of hunger he was. Who’d have thought his lassie would become a Duchess!’ exclaimed Mr Burns to Mrs Pringle, the minister’s wife, who had just popped in for two ounces of China tea. She raised a disapproving eyebrow because Canny was not a member of her husband’s congregation nor of any congregation come to that.
‘I suppose it’s quite an honour for the town even though the girl’s a half-caste. I wonder if any children will be – er – coloured,’ she asked delicately.
Tom laughed uproariously. ‘That’s a good one, Mrs Pringle, that’s all we need. Our next Duke might be a black!’ he cried.
In the butcher’s shop next door Elliot’s clerk was being cross-questioned by the customers. ‘What dowry’s being paid?’ they wanted to know. He looked knowledgeable but cagey. ‘It’s confidential so I cannae tell you exactly but it’ll be in six figures by the time he’s finished.’
The excitement was everything that Canny would have desired. ‘Six figures!’ they chorused and the butcher said with satisfaction, ‘That’s going to pay my bill, anyway. It’s been running on ever since the Duke inherited from his brother two years ago. He’s wanting to rebuild the Castle they say and he’s brought an architect chappie doon frae Edinbury. Maybe he’ll get started on it now.’
‘A lot of folk’ll get paid. My word, Canny’s a hero. He’s doing the hale toon a bit of good marrying off his lassie to the Duke,’ agreed a customer. They were all hard at work discussing the news when Canny Rutherford’s black servant was spotted sprinting over the square to Elliot’s office. After a few moments he reappeared and went dashing on up the hill in the direction of the lawyer’s house. The gossips looked at each other and nodded their heads. ‘Something’s up. You dinna see that black yin running unless it’s important,’ they agreed.
Elliot’s home was a bleak, tall and narrow house with a flat grey façade set behind a rank of sharply pointed iron railings at the side of the busy street. A long narrow strip of steeply sloping garden ran down from its hidden front to the river. Viewhill House resembled a prison because the wood of the front door was studded with big metal bosses and all the windows facing the road were stoutly barred. Cautious Andrew Elliot was very concerned about burglary although it was not a common crime in the town.
When Joe Cannonball rapped on the door knocker, it was opened by a tall, thin, fair-haired girl who was anxiously wiping her hands on a sacking apron. She looked surprised at the sight of the Rutherfords’ servant but she knew Joe well and recovered enough to smile with appealing sweetness as she ushered him into the dank-smelling passage.
He asked her, ‘Where’s your father, Grace?’
‘He’s upstairs in the parlour with Hester,’ she said. ‘What’s wrong? You look awfully excited, Joe.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘My word, my word, there’s terrible trouble down at our house. Miss Odilie’s going to be married.’
The girl called Grace gasped. ‘But I saw her yesterday and she didn’t say a thing about it then.’
Joe shook his head. ‘She didn’t know then! It’s her father going off like a minute gun again. Fetch your father, Grace. Canny wants to see him.’
Grace was looking worried as she turned to do his bidding. She walked away lurching heavily to the left, for she was lame. It seemed as if one leg was considerably shorter than the other.
Her father and his second wife Hester, a high-coloured woman with hair of flaming red, sat side by side at a round table in their small sitting room with their heads together and nodding in eager conversation. When Grace entered the room Hester was saying, ‘But she’s black. The Duke can’t marry a black woman.’
Her husband quelled her with a glance and turned to ask his daughter, ‘What do you want, my girl?’
She looked only at him and ignored the woman by his side. ‘Joe Cannonball’s downstairs. Mr Rutherford’s sent for you. He wants you to go down to Havanah Court immediately.’
Elliot stood up rubbing his hands and pulling down the points of his waistcoat. ‘I’ll be down directly,’ he instructed as he mentally totalled up the fees he was likely to earn over this affair. The thought made him rub his hands again. He rarely showed emotion but today he looked almost happy.
When Joe and the lawyer returned to Havanah Court, Canny was pacing the floor of his library, very concerned. ‘What a problem, what a problem,’ he exclaimed as soon as Elliot stepped through the door. ‘I’ve never denied Odilie a wish before – no matter how preposterous. I don’t know what to d
o with her.’
Elliot looked patient. ‘Start at the beginning. You’ve told her about the marriage idea, I presume.’
Canny nodded. ‘And what a fuss she made! You’d think I’m trying to send her into a nunnery or something. She says she doesn’t want to marry him. What am I going to do?’
Elliot walked up to Canny’s desk and carefully aligned some pens on the blotter before he said, ‘I did warn you that you should have spoken to her first. The letter has already been despatched by now. You’ve been very rash… but you were so certain she’d be pleased. What’s her objection exactly?’
‘She says he’s bad-mannered and arrogant. And she says he’s louche – where did she hear that word, I wonder? Martha’s filled her head with all those stories about the maids at Sloebank Castle being scared of him.’
Elliot nodded. ‘Hmm. True, I suppose, but not grounds for refusing an advantageous offer of marriage, or many of the men I know would remain bachelors for life. Tell her that matrimony changes men. Don’t worry, she’s at a foolish age when girls read stories and imagine themselves heroines. They dream about love but they grow out of it.’
Canny groaned, pointing with his head to the first floor. ‘Odilie doesn’t read novels, she prefers bloodstock books apparently. She won’t listen to me. She’s up there now weeping her heart out.’
Elliot frowned. ‘Silly girl. It’s a problem but you’ll overcome it, I’m sure.’
‘I’m almost ready to call the whole thing off,’ said Canny, who’d faced up to more dangerous adversaries than the Duke in his time, ‘The most I can lose is only ten thousand pounds, after all! Write again and say my letter was a mistake.’
Elliot stopped fiddling with the pens. ‘Don’t talk nonsense, man. What better marriage than this could you possibly get for the girl?’
‘She says she doesn’t want to be a Duchess.’
Elliot sighed heavily. ‘Do you want me to speak to her? I can point out the advantages of this match better than you, perhaps.’ He meant, she won’t get round me so easily.
Canny brightened. ‘You could try, but I don’t think she’ll listen to you. She’s very strong-willed is my Odilie.’
The lawyer fixed his client with a steely eye. ‘You should be more firm with her. Girls are not improved by soft handling. You’re her father, you should tell her you know what’s best for her. Stand by your decision about whom she’s to marry and don’t weaken. She’ll come round in the end.’
But the other man’s face was still doubtful. ‘I don’t like to see her upset,’ he said.
‘We’ll all be upset and worse if she’s allowed to play the fool. Let me handle this,’ said Elliot and after a short discussion Canny agreed to remove himself while his lawyer interceded with Odilie alone.
The interview took place in the large salon where Odilie was sitting with her dog at her feet. There was a challenging look on her face when she watched the lawyer enter the room. It was very clear to him that this girl did not like him very much, but he decided to play her at her own game and kept his face expressionless as he carefully closed the double doors behind him, leaning back on the gilt handles as he did so. Then he stared hard at her. Neither of them spoke.
She was a beauty all right, and it was no surprise that the Duke had offered for her. For a moment Elliot wondered how many races had mingled their blood to create Odilie Rutherford. As he walked towards her however he was slightly intimidated by how stonily bleak and flat her eyes looked. It was as if she had dropped a shutter behind them in order to make it impossible for him to read her mind. She pointedly did not ask him to sit down but he took the initiative and said cordially, ‘Good afternoon, Miss Rutherford,’ as he pulled out a chair and settled himself in its cushioned depth.
She said nothing but let her hand drop as if for comfort onto the head of the dog whose stare was as hostile as that of its mistress. Elliot felt rising anger that this chit of a girl was succeeding in discomfiting him and there was a cold note in his voice when he said, ‘I imagine you know the object of my visit.’
She nodded and answered, ‘Yes, I can guess why you’re here.’
‘Your father tells me that you’re not happy about the marriage he’s trying to arrange for you.’
She lifted her dark arched eyebrows. ‘Should I be?’ she asked.
‘Indeed you should,’ he told her as he looked levelly back.
‘I’ve never met the man. I don’t know if I want to marry him or not,’ she protested.
‘A meeting will be arranged. The Duke is as anxious for that as you. This is not a one-way contract. Both parties have to be satisfied.’
He detected a flush creeping into her golden cheeks and wondered if her vanity was affected by the thought that the Duke might reject her in the end. He decided to press that point. ‘There’s always the possibility that he may not wish to continue with the projected marriage, of course,’ he told her.
The eyes that stared back at him were still totally enigmatic and it was impossible to tell whether his words had made her worried or hopeful. ‘To please your father you should at least make no objections at this stage, not until we arrange a meeting anyway,’ he pressed on.
She nodded and sighed. ‘All right. Providing it’s understood that I won’t be forced into anything.’
Elliot continued implacably, ‘I can’t imagine your father forcing you over the most trivial matter. He is the most indulgent and fond parent I have ever encountered. Fond to a fault, I’d say.’
She did not reply to this and he went on, ‘So, I can take it that you will meet the Duke? And that you understand this is not a frivolous matter, Miss Rutherford.’
She was rattled. ‘It’s far from being a frivolous matter for me, Mr Elliot.’
The lawyer permitted himself a wintry smile. ‘I’m glad of that. It’s a great honour and a compliment, you know, to have a man like the Duke of Maudesley even to consider an alliance with you. If you become a Duchess you’ll have the world at your feet, for it’s one of the highest positions in society, second only to royalty…’ He sighed. ‘You should be thankful to your father for his generosity on your behalf. The dowry is princely and he’s trying to ensure a wonderful future for you. You’re young, not yet old enough to appreciate the potential of this affair, but I predict that if you turn away from this opportunity you’ll live to regret your hastiness. You’ll repine for the rest of your life.’
Her eyes went wide as she stared at him, and for the first time they showed animation. ‘But I don’t love the Duke, and from what I hear I doubt if I ever will. He has a bad reputation.’
Elliot made an irritable gesture with his hands. ‘Gossip! Gossip and envy, my dear girl. I’ve lived my whole life in this town and there have been three Dukes in my time. Nobody has had a good word to say about any of them. As for love, it’s a delusion. When you’re older you’ll find that it only lasts a short time and when it’s over people must live with the consequences of having yielded to it.’ A bleak note in his voice made the girl look into his face intently. When he saw that he had caught her interest he added, ‘Your father knows your future’s far too important to be wagered on the vagaries of love. In my experience it causes more harm than good.’
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘But surely, even if you don’t love someone you should at least like them a little before you enter into marriage with them? I know affection can grow into love between a couple but what if I don’t even like this man? What if I actively dislike him?’
‘On what basis? What could you know about him except what you’ve heard? All you must consider are the facts: he’s a gentleman; he’s not too old – barely forty; he’s been well-educated and has travelled widely. They say he was a little wild in his youth but most young bucks are the same. Besides, marriage changes men. So what are you afraid of? You’re a strong-willed girl. You’ll bring him to heel. No one would dare to ill-treat you.’
She stared at him, lips parted. This idea was obviously
a new one to her. ‘Ill-treat me? Good heavens, of course not! I never imagined anything like that.’ No one had lifted a hand to Odilie in her entire life and few had even dared to scold her.
Elliot continued to reassure her. ‘Your father has instructed me to make sure that any marriage contract to be drawn up on your behalf will be very rigorous. You’ll have control of your own money. Your husband won’t be able to squander it and if he leaves you, your future and your fortune will be safeguarded.’
She put a hand to her forehead. ‘You’re already thinking about what will happen if the marriage breaks down and we’ve not even met each other yet!’
‘I’m employed to anticipate every eventuality,’ said Elliot smoothly and triumphantly, feeling he was beginning to break her down.
* * *
While Andrew Elliot was in Havanah Court interceding with Odilie, his own daughter Grace was limping dejectedly around the dark kitchen of Viewhill House. The news Joe Cannonball had brought made her sad, because in the eight months since Odilie’s return from school in London, the two girls, who were almost the same age, had become close friends. Although the circumstances of their lives were very different, they had taken to each other at once and Odilie’s high spirits provided welcome frivolity and amusement for Grace, who had never been close to anyone with such a light-hearted attitude to life before.
If Odilie was to be married, however, their budding friendship would no longer be allowed to grow and Grace unhappily contemplated a return to her old loneliness. Before Odilie arrived she had not known what it was to have a companion or a confidante and she did not relish going back to that isolated state. She wondered who had been suggested as a husband for her friend. Her only hope was that Odilie’s new home would not be too far away and they would be able to see each other from time to time.
St James' Fair Page 3
