Chapter 3: Wedded bliss

June-- July 1824. Château Blanchard Nr Valencienne. Flanders

We had suggested that our wedding guests arrive some days prior to the wedding, and Chloe and Armand, with their son Marcel and his wet-nurse, arrived a week before the ceremony.
Mimi and Chloe exchanged a long loving embrace when they met. I confess I had been somewhat uneasy at a meeting between them after hearing Mimi’s disdain that Chloe was not breast feeding her son but employed a wet-nurse for the task. When I mentioned to Mimi that she seemed to have regained her admiration of Chloe even though she was still not feeding her son herself, Mimi surprised me by her answer.
“My chagrin was nothing more than envy that Chloe did not have to endure the routine of feeding a babe at four hourly intervals. Had I known how wearisome it would be to breast feed our daughters I might have employed Claudette as my surrogate earlier.”
I imagine Mimi former anger at her sister was due in some way to a feeling of guilt that she did not fully satisfy the twin girls, and had to employ a wet nurse. Not that Mimi had any reason for such a feeling, as she was a perfect mother; the two girls wanted for nothing in the way of love and comfort, and neither did I.

My sister Ruth and her husband John Watson travelled with Gurney and Zinnia Slade from Grantham to Dover. By happenchance, they met Rob and Bridey Crawshay, with their daughter Bernadette, at the port, and all arrived at Blanchards together, two days after Chloe and Armand.
Gurney and Zinnia seemed to be as much in love as when first wed; Ruth and John had that comfortable relationship between each other that comes from a long and happy marriage. Rob and Bridey Crawshay could barely keep their hands from off each other, so I assumed their passion still blazed as fiercely as when they first met.

Patrick and Matilde Jayne-Braithwaite, with their son Samuel and his nursemaid, arrived two days before the ceremony. I noticed some tension between Matilde and Patrick. It was obvious that their son Samuel was the centre of Matilde’s world, and Patrick was now far out on the outer rim. I was not the only one to note the disharmony, and Mimi was quite upset to see the previous loving couple now, if not actually at loggerheads then not in their former happy and loving relationship.
“It is quite common for a mother to lavish more love and attention on her new born babe than on her husband. I will have a word with Matilde and alert her to the damage she is doing to her marriage by neglecting Patrick,” Mimi said.
I said nothing, but Samuel could hardly be considered a new-born babe. Matilde was near to delivering him when Caroline and my children lost their lives in the fire initiated by Silas Maddox. That was in November 1820, so Samuel was getting on for four years old.
Some hours later Mimi divulged the problem with the Jayne-Braithwaite marriage.

“Matilde fears Patrick has a lover! He spends much time in Norwich, and has been seen at events in the city with a young woman, a widow, who is a friend of the Jane’s family. When he does join Matilde in her bed he is lacklustre, as if he has already exhausted himself before hand and no longer has feelings for her.”
I gave a snort of disbelief. “They were wildly in love with each other; they had a child barely nine months after their marriage. Patrick is not the sort of man to have a lover, unless Matilde has spurned him.” I thought for a moment. “Perhaps her attention is so focussed on her son she has not realised her behaviour?”
Mimi shrugged. “I know Matilde is desperately unhappy, and buries her despair in overindulging her son. Have a word with Patrick and discover if this widow is his mistress.”
“It is not the sort of thing one fellow can ask of another, especially as Patrick knows how close Matilde is to you and Chloe.”
Mimi made a moue, and I quickly agreed to have a word with Patrick.

On the day before my wedding, Gurney, Rob, and John, accompanied by Francois Truffaut and Jean-Woodrow, went on a fishing expedition to the nearby River Scheldt. All were avid anglers and left Blanchard at sunrise. They were not expected back until sunset.
Ruth was in her element in the nursery, looking after Marcel, Samuel, Bernadette, and our twin girls Mollie and Caroline. The rest of the females -- Chloe, Bridey, Matilde, Zinnia, and Mimi -- were gossiping in the withdrawing room.
I invited Patrick for a tour around the estate; he owned quite extensive farmland in Norfolk and I knew he was interested in agriculture practices. We were in the East field, where Matilde and I had once savoured Medoc wine, and each other -- although I did not share that intelligence with Patrick -- when I grasped the bull by the horns.
“Matilde told Mimi that you have taken a lover?”

It was if a dam had broken. The outpouring of his grief, sadness, despair, and anger would have swept Noah’s Ark from the top of Mount Ararat.
There was no mistress, he was still in love with Matilde but thought she now despised him.

“Why should she despise you, Patrick? You were the love of her life, and still are I warrant.”
He gave a despairing shake of his head. “At first our marriage was all that I hoped it would be, but then Matilde became pregnant, and everything changed. She was violently sick for months, and put on so much weight she could not bear to look in a mirror.”

“Well, she looks just as beautiful now as when she first met you.”

“I blamed myself for her condition, and when she had the child I blamed myself for the pain and agony I inflicted on her. Matilde was in labour for two days, screaming in agony. I could not bear to hear her anguish and ran from of the house. I got back after the birth and saw the blood sodden sheets taken from her bed. She almost died, Jack, the woman I loved almost died because of my base animal lust when alongside her in bed.” He shook his head in the memory. “She must hate me, and I cannot blame her. I slept in a separate room during her confinement, and it was over six months after the birth before I allowed myself to join her in bed. My first entry into her body had her wincing in pain so I withdrew. It was a week later before I felt she was ready for me; she assured me she was, but I was so nervous of hurting her I...” Patrick part stifled a sob. “I was unmanned, and could not penetrate her. I was ashamed, and got from the bed. Matilde took from my action that I no longer loved or wanted her, nothing could be further from the truth.”
He removed a handkerchief from his pocket, blew his nose, and regained some of his composure.

“The young woman I have been seen with is Martha Fortescue; her mother is a close friend of my adoptive mother. Both mothers had hoped Martha and I would one day be married, but we have always regarded ourselves more as brother and sister rather than lovers. She was married to Herbert Fortescue, the Member of Parliament for Norwich until his untimely death six months ago. I am contemplating standing for Parliament in the next General Election, and Martha is introducing me to the influential members of the local Whig party. I have been promised their full support as prospective candidate.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “It appears both of you are making incorrect assumptions. Matilde thinks you have a lover, and you think Matilde blames you for her pain of childbirth. Compounded with that is your fear of inflicting more pain on her. I suggest you both sit down and discuss the matter, laying all your cards on the table.”
Patrick nodded, but voiced anxiety about impotency. “We may be able talk through our problems, but if I am physically unable to produce a firm, upstanding...”
I gave a broad smile. “It just so happens I have a bottle or two of a most wondrous restorative of the male member. I’m certain once you have swallowed a draught of the potion you will be as rampant as a new bridegroom.”
In fact, on my wedding night I was also going to take a measure of the restorative as I feared I would be unable to rise to the occasion without the aid of Callum’s potion.

On the first of July 1824, Mimi Renoir and I were married in the chapel of Château Blanchard in the sight of God, and our assembled guests. Francois Truffaut, the château’s steward, gave Mimi away, and Gurney Slade was my groomsman. Callum would have done the job had he been available, but as I had been Gurney’s groomsman at his wedding he insisted on returning the favour.
Mimi had thought one of my brothers would have been my groomsman, and asked why neither was present at the wedding although invitations had been sent.

“Isaac is an Assizes judge, and will be on his travels throughout the Midland Circuit during June, July, and August.” I said in explanation. “My other brother Elisha has never been out of the county of Lincolnshire, in fact not even out of Kesteven to visit Lincoln. His farm is his life and his life is his farm – he would never leave his sons in charge – although of course in time his eldest son will take over the running of the farm.”

After we had made our vows Mimi and I descended into the crypt, and both placed our enjoined hands against Annette Blanchard’s tomb. I said nothing, but my heart spoke to the shades of Annette. Mimi wept a few tears, and then we rejoined our guests at the wedding breakfast.
Claudette took care of the our two girls in the château, while Mimi and I spent our wedding night in a small cottage known as the Dower House some distance away from the main house. When Pierre Blanchard married Annette his mother had taken up residence in the cottage.