A Bride for the Prizefighter: A Victorian Romance

by Alice Coldbreath

  “There was no one,” she admitted. “Not a single suitor. My parents did not mingle in society and we saw no-one that was not connected with the school. I did not consider it before, but I fancy the fact my mother was divorced might have been a reason for that.”

  He was silent a moment. “Were they happy?” he asked, sounding slightly rusty, as though unaccustomed to such conversation.

  “My parents?” He nodded. “They were devoted to one another,” she said simply. “Weren’t yours?”

  Nye frowned. “I think they were, in their own way. My father, old Jacob Nye was not much of a talker.”

  “He did not wear his heart on his sleeve?” Mina ventured.

  Nye hesitated. “Some would say he was a hard man to know, but he raised me as if I was his own. My mother was…” He paused as though searching for the right word. “Very uneven in her moods. She would be happy one minute, laughing and joking with the best of them. Then the next she would be cast down in the sullens, saying her life was ruined and all chance of happiness gone. You never knew which way she would go.”

  Mina thought about this. “That must have been difficult for a child to understand.” She remembered the decoration on the screens and wondered if Ellen Nye blamed her son for the fact, she had ended up a publican’s wife and not taking up a life treading the boards. Or did she blame the fourth viscount for casting her off as a mistress with a handsome pay-off? Had her pregnancy been the reason their liaison had ended when it did?

  He shrugged. “I soon learned not to seek her out, but to leave it to her whether she wanted me or no.”

  The inn was in sight now and Mina made out two figures in the yard stood watching them approach. As they drew closer, she realized it was Gus and Reuben.

  “Good evening!” Gus hailed them cheerily with a wave. His pipe smoke puffed over his head in a thick trail of clouds while Reuben looking surly as ever, turned abruptly away as they turned into the courtyard.

  “What’s amiss with Reuben?” Nye asked as they drew level to Gus. He kept a firm hold of Mina’s hand in his and she thought Gus’s eyes dwelt there a moment before he answered.

  “Amiss? Why nothing,” he said heartily. “What should there be amiss on a fine day such as this?” He nodded at Mina. “Mrs. Nye,” he added affably. She noticed he did not call her Minnie today.

  “Mr. Hopkirk, good evening,” she responded as Nye towed her in the direction of the kitchen door.

  It opened before reached it and Edna hurried out, drying her hands on a tea towel. “Oh Mrs. Nye,” she said. “Lord Faris is here with two others. I hardly knew where to direct them, though I showed them into your parlor in the end. I hope I did right.”

  “I’m sure you did, Edna,” Mina told her soothingly, though she could not imagine why Edna had been reluctant to show them into her private room.

  Nye released her and Mina hurried through the hallway, pausing only next to the mirror to tidy her windswept hair. She twisted the loose tresses back around what was left of her bun and reinserted two pins and hoped for the best. Nye had followed her out of the kitchen at a slower pace, but he caught up with her outside the door and entered the room directly after her.

  “Ah, here you are!” Jeremy exclaimed, getting up from a chair with his ready smile.

  “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Mina responded as her eyes traveled over the two neat figures who had been sat on wooden chairs against the wall but now stood to attention. Her heart leapt. Could these be the two domestics he had mentioned? She turned her gaze back on Jeremy and he beamed.

  “I see you have anticipated my mission.” He extended an arm in a sweeping gesture to incorporate the room’s other two inhabitants. “I have brought Miss Corin Goode and Mr. Edward Herney for your consideration, as promised.”

  “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Mina said as they bobbed bow and curtsey in her direction.

  “May I present my sister, Mrs. Mina Nye and Nye the owner of this establishment.”

  From the corner of her eye, Mina saw Nye was a good deal surprised to see Jeremy had proved good on his word. He nodded to Corin and turned a considering eye on Edward Herney who was tall and slim and aged no more than twenty-two or three years.

  “Ever served as a tapster before?” he asked.

  Mr. Herney stepped forward. “I confess sir, I have not, though I have received some training in the butler’s pantry. I know how to tap a keg and have taken instruction on the care and serving of wine and spirits.”

  Nye nodded. “That should stand you in good stead,” he said and Herney’s expression brightened.

  Mina turned back to Corin who had large anxious eyes, hair so blonde it was white and resembled nothing so much as a frightened rabbit. “How old are you, Corin? Have you much domestic experience?”

  “I’m nineteen, ma’am,” Corin bobbed again. “Please Mrs. Nye, I have worked as both scullery and kitchen maid before now.”

  “Well, that sound very satisfactory,” she said, smiling at the girl. “You will have your own attic bedchamber next door to our other maid Edna, who will help with your instruction.”

  Corin’s eyes grew even wider. “Yes ma’am,” she whispered, then looked at her feet.

  “Edna takes Monday as her day off. Should you have any objection to taking either Wednesday or Thursday for your own?”

  “None, thank you kindly, ma’am,” Corin squeaked.

  “You’ll have a bed above the stables,” Nye told Herney. “There’s several bunks in there and you can take your pick. Reuben the stable hand sleeps in there and no-one else at present.” Ed Herney nodded. “You can take a midweek day off for your own, I little care so long as you give me a few days’ notice. Weekends are our busiest time.”

  “Understood, sir,” said Herney keenly.

  Nye looked a little pained. “Call me Nye,” he said. “When can you start?”

  Herney turned to Jeremy. “My Lord Faris has my trunk on his carriage. If you’re agreeable—?”

  “I am,” Nye said curtly. “If you come now, I’ll give you a tour of the place.” He nodded at Jeremy and he and Herney both left the room.

  “Did you bring Corin’s trunk also?” Mina asked, turning to her brother.

  “I did. Prepared fellow, aren’t I?”

  “Excellent. I’m sure Nye will get Reuben to carry it upstairs for us. Will you stay to take some refreshment, Jeremy?”

  He shook his head regretfully. “Alas, I must see my steward on my return and cannot tarry. Perhaps I will return in a couple of days’ time to see how you’re all faring.”

  “That would be most agreeable and thank you, for I did not expect you to act so promptly, in truth.”

  “Catching people unawares is one of my chief delights in life,” he mused with a small bow and left.

  20

  Over the next couple of days, Herney and Corin proved themselves to be adept at learning the ropes at the inn. A rocky start with Edna was soon smoothed over when she realized Corin knelt every night beside her bed to say her prayers and was a regular churchgoer.

  As for Herney, he seemed wholly unaffected by Reuben’s grumpiness and did not seem to mind turning his hand to whatever his master or mistress asked of him. He was clean-shaven, had a sister who lived in Penarth and was teetotal which was the only thing that made Nye look at him askance. In truth, as Mina pointed out to Nye, they had much to be grateful for.

  On Sunday, both new members of the household accompanied Mina and Edna to church in their Sunday best and Mina started to daydream that she could look forward to that weekend away with Nye sometime soon.

  That evening to her surprise, her husband joined her in the parlor. She lowered the letter she had been reading which was from her old maid Hannah back in Bath. “I did not realize you would be able to join me this evening,” she marveled. “Is Herney serving behind the bar?”

  “He is,” Nye agreed, adding another couple of logs to the fire before sinking into the chair op
posite her. “I’ve told him I can be fetched if I’m needed.”

  Mina nodded, a faint pucker between her brows. Had Ivy not said something about conferring with Gus and Reuben on a Sunday evening in the taproom? Or had she got that wrong?

  “What’s that?” he said, nodding at her letter.

  She gave a start. “Oh, a letter from Hannah who used to work for us in Bath. She took a position with a young widow when the school closed. She writes assuring me that finds her new situation very agreeable.” She did not tell him the content of the rest of the letter.

  Hannah had been astonished to hear that Mina she was lately married and had quoted Mr. Samuel Johnson’s maxim on marrying in haste, repenting at leisure. It did not seem right to Hannah that Mina should be wed whilst in deepest mourning, though she acknowledged it was only right she be led by her remaining family member, Lord Faris.

  She finished by sincerely wishing that Mina would entreaty her husband to change the wicked name of their hostelry, for she had felt quite mortified having to write the direction for her letter and wondered that Mina could bear to live under the roof of such a loose, immoral sign be it ever so old. For antiquated things, she urged and underlined twice, were not always respectable.

  Mina cast her letter aside and picked up her bag of mending. She had two shirts of Nye’s that needed repair, though she felt a little self-conscious working on them in his presence. “How is Herney working out in the bar? Are the customers taking to him?”

  Nye shrugged. “He’s likable enough, though… a tad respectable, maybe for their tastes.”

  “He’s a pleasant, clean-living young man,” Mina said severely.

  His eyes gleamed. “Exactly. I see you take my meaning perfectly.”

  Mina suppressed the answering smile that rose to her lips. “I’m sure he will win them over eventually.”

  “How’s the girl?” he asked abruptly.

  “Corin? A very willing and helpful young woman,” she said with approval. “I think with pointers from Edna, we will soon have another treasure on our hands,” said Mina warming to the theme.

  “Come and sit on my lap, Mina,” Nye interrupted her.

  She lowered her sewing and blinked at him. “Nye!”

  “What? I want my treasure in my hands,” he said warmly.

  Mina gaped at him. “Are you calling me your treasure?” she asked, her voice oddly constricted.

  “What else? Now stop staring and bring your sweet arse over here.”

  To her own astonishment, Mina found herself setting her sewing down beside her and rising from the sofa. “This was not precisely what I had in mind when you said you were going to keep company with me of an evening,” she said uncertainly as she crossed the room toward him.

  He reached up and drew her down onto his lap. “Wasn’t it? But it was what I had in mind; I assure you.”

  “I can well believe it,” Mina retorted as he wound an arm around her waist. “But I thought we were discussing household matters.”

  “We can still do that with you on my lap.”

  Mina looked down at him suspiciously. “Really?”

  “What else needs to be said?”

  Naturally, her brain chose this moment to turn blank. With Harriet’s words in mind, she asked, “Was this inn always known by its current name?”

  Nye’s eyebrows rose. “Nay,” he admitted. “I have the old sign in one of the outhouses, but I doubt you’d like it.”

  “What was its original name?” she asked, though she had a dim memory someone else had told her it once.

  “I warn you, it’s no more appropriate than the one it bears now.” She could see he was deriving some amusement from this subject by the smile lurked in his eyes.

  “Tell me,” she said, tightening her arms around his neck.

  “Very well then, it was called The Quiet Woman.”

  Mina looked down at him. “Wretch,” she said, and he laughed. “Why would I not like the sign?”

  “I’ll show it you sometime.”

  “What does it depict?”

  He sighed. “A headless woman carrying a tray of cheese and wine.”

  “Headless?”

  “Only a woman without a tongue in her head is quiet”

  “Is that a quote?”

  “It’s inscribed on the sign.”

  Mina pulled a face. “I think I prefer The Merry Harlot,” she said dryly.

  Again, Nye’s smile flashed out, but he soon turned serious again. “Do you want to change the name?” he asked lightly, but to her surprise, Mina saw he looked in earnest. “I’ve been thinking of late of some changes that need to be made around the place.” His thumb rubbed against her waist in the gesture she was starting to find familiar.

  “What sort of changes?” she asked curiously.

  “Certain associations,” he answered evasively, and Mina wondered with a surge of optimism if he meant his ties with the smuggling trade.

  “You mean,” she said carefully. “That we should try and entice more locals away from The Ship?”

  He shrugged. “As to that, I doubt we’ll ever lure the villagers away from a more convenient watering hole. But we could think about become a coaching inn again with teams of horses running along the Exeter road. There’s probably only about ten years or so left before rail connects this whole country,” he mused. “But ten years is still a considerable amount of time.”

  Mina considered this. “The whole country connected by steam train?” she said in surprise.

  “Twenty years at the outside.”

  Mina turned thoughtful. “A small place like Penarth would never get a station though.”

  “It’s unlikely,” he conceded. “But nearby St Ives likely would. An inn might survive, but there would be no need for posting stations for the mail coach.”

  It was a sobering thought. “Well then,” Mina agreed. “We ought to concentrate on amassing our fortune now while we may.” Nye looked amused. “What would we call our new and improved coaching inn?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve not yet given it much thought.” He was silent a moment. “The Good Wife?” he suggested and cleared his throat.

  “Why William Nye,” she said in surprised accents. “You flatter me.” He growled and she dropped a swift kiss on his brow for he was clearly not used to paying compliments of the respectable kind. “I have a better idea.” She gazed down at him. “What say you to The Prizefighter.”

  Now it was his turn to look surprised. His gaze flickered. “You would not think that as disreputable as its current name.”

  “Certainly not!” She turned thoughtful. “I think it’s a vastly good idea. The fights bring us a good deal of business and we could still hold them once a month.”

  His brow crinkled. “I like it,” he admitted. “I like it a lot.”

  She smiled down at him and met him halfway for the slow, exploratory kiss they shared. For all it was tender, when they drew back, both of them were breathing hard.

  “Let’s go up to bed,” Nye said abruptly, sweeping her up from the sofa.

  “It’s not yet eight o’clock!” Mina pointed out but found this objection ignored completely as he carried out of the room. “I see now our courtship would have been quite scandalous,” she muttered as they mounted the stairs and Nye grinned.

  “That’s your fault,” he rumbled. For it’s my understanding the woman is supposed to set the moral tone of the courtship at the outset.”

  Mina gasped at this, quite outraged and Nye burst out laughing before they had even reached the attic.

  *

  This new state of harmony between them lasted all of two days before Mina received a postcard from Harrogate. She turned it over curiously to read Ivy’s careful writing which stated her marriage to Sam had taken place that morning and all was well.

  “Well, that’s a relief in any event,” Mina said briskly, passing the postcard to Edna.

  Nye folded his arms across his chest, regarding her narrowly. �
�Are you going to claim you had no knowledge of this?” he asked. Mina colored slightly.

  “Sam who?” puzzled Edna, lowering the card.

  “Rollins,” Mina answered absently.

  “So, you did know!” Nye thundered, looking disgusted.

  “What difference does it make?” Mina asked, plunking a hand on her hip and regarding Nye in a martial light.

  Edna speedily excused herself to go and finish the tub of laundry she had left to soak in the bathroom upstairs.

  Reuben hovered a moment in the doorway, before slouching off again.

  “Your loyalty should be to me, Mina,” Nye said tightly.

  Impulsively, she reached out and put her hand on his chest and he went very still. “Nye, don’t,” she paused a moment. “I know that, and it is. Please don’t make more of this than is necessary.”

  He stared down at her hand a minute and both jumped when the unlatched window slammed shut with a bang. When she went to move her hand away, he caught it and carried it to his lips a moment, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.

  “Very well, we’ll say no more about it,” he said gruffly. “I’m headed back to the cellar if you need me,”. He flung abruptly out of the room, slashes of warm color along his cheekbones.

  Mina stood a few moments staring after him abstractedly, when she became gradually aware that Reuben had appeared once again in the doorway, he had only vacated moments ago.

  “There’s a carter outside,” he said abruptly. “Says he’s bought something for you?”

  Mina turned away from the sink in surprise. “For me?” He nodded. “I have not ordered anything Reuben, and neither am I expecting anything.”

  “Mebbe someone ordered it for you, then?” He shrugged. “Will you come outside and take a look? He’s waiting for it to be unloaded so I need your instructions.”

  Mina glanced at him in surprise. Usually, Reuben resented every order she gave him. Crossing to the window, she looked out. Surely enough there was a cart stood in the courtyard with a hunched figure in a smock sat at the front with the brim of his hat pulled low on his head. Suppressing a sigh, she flung open the door and strode over to the waiting cart, Reuben hot on her heels.