Chapter 15: Plans, Ploys and Stratagems

A wheel of the coach hit a pothole, and although the horses were moving at no more than a walk the jolt woke up Violette, who was dozing in the corner of the carriage.
"I apologise for nodding off," she said, stifling a yawn "I seem to be most fearfully tired."
Matilde smiled and patted Violette's arm. "That's no surprise, you have been busy meeting your relations-to-be, and have also been out in the invigorating air of Flanders for a month. Either of those activities would exhaust anyone encountering them for the first time."

"Why not take a proper nap?" I suggested. "Matilde can come and sit by me, and then you will be able to stretch out fully on the seat."
Violette peered at me doubtfully. "Would you not think me rude to fall asleep while in your company?"

"Not at all." I reached under my seat and withdrew a large travelling rug.
"Rob will soon be driving along the better surfaced high road to Calais rather than on these potholed country tracks. The carriage will slide along as if on ice, and you will be as safe as if in your bed at home."

I wrapped the rug about her, and she snuggled down into its comforting warmth. In a few moments her steady breathing indicated she was in the Land of Nod.

It was a week after Matilde's birthday, and we were returning to England after taking a tearful farewell of Chateau Blanchard. All the passengers aboard the coach had reason for sorrow at leaving. Matilde at leaving her cousins, Violette at leaving her husband-to-be, Rob at saying goodbye to his buxom Berta, and me – well, Chateau Blanchard now felt as much my home as Greenaway's Farm, and those that lived there my friends and family.

"Violette will be exhausted after meeting her future mother-in-law." Matilde said quietly. "Madame Thierry was incensed Henri got himself engaged to an English girl, with no money or prospects, rather than to a French girl with a share in a chateau and estate, plus a few diamonds to her name. She intended me to be wife to Henri, and I fear for the life poor Violette will have in the household when she is married."
I glanced over at the somnolent Violette. "I think she is far more ruthless and determined than you imagine. And it will not take long for her to have Henri eating from out of her hand, rather than from his mother's."
Matilde appeared sceptical at my prediction.

"How will she achieve that? Henri has been dominated by his mother from birth, and his father was dominated from the day he married the shrew."

"A wife can give something a husband desires which a husband's mother cannot. Not unless the mother is prepared to suffer the everlasting torments of Hell."
Matilde's puzzled expression soon gave way to comprehension, and she punched me, hard, on the arm. "Elijah Greenaway! You possess the most depraved imagination imaginable." She burst into laughter, which she muffled by burying her face in my chest.

After regaining her composure, and confirming that Violette was still sound asleep, she asked if we would be stopping the night at 'The Voyager' hostelry in Hazebrouck.

"It will be up to Rob where we stop the night, but it will probably be in Hazebrouck. Why do you ask?"

"I hope to recommence the activity we were engaged in the last time we stayed at 'The Voyager', which was unfortunately curtailed when we were called for breakfast."
I had to cast my mind back, and then remembered I was about to mount her when the inn keeper interrupted us. "Shame on you, Matilde Gance. You know I am to be married in a years' time."
She snuggled into me, and breathed huskily into my ear. "A year is a long time to wait for what I had in mind."
I gently pushed her away. "Caroline and I have already had a pre-taste of the joys of married life, and I would be betraying her love if I ... err ... ate at your table."

"Are you saying you will not taste another woman because you have an understanding with Caroline?"
"It is much more than an understanding, but yes, I shall not sup from another woman's table, not even one which holds such manifold delights as yours."

Matilde bottom lip trembled, and silent tears ran down her face.

"Matilde, my dear girl. I didn't mean to hurt you by my words. I have told you of my love for Caroline, and thought you had accepted the status quo."
She sniffed, then dipped into her reticule for a handkerchief and wiped her eyes, then blew her nose loudly. "I'm so ashamed, Jacques. I have shared a sausage with someone although I had 'an understanding' with another. I am nothing but a whore, and you will hate and despise me."

"No, of course not. You are a lusty, vibrant young woman, who has a healthy appetite. As for having 'an understanding' with someone, did you plight your troth?" I used the English term, which she probably had not heard before, but nevertheless she nodded vigorously.

"You exchanged rings?" I saw by her bemused expression she had no idea of what I meant.

"Did you exchange rings, as a sign of betrothal, or of being affianced?"
She blushed a flaming red. "I thought 'plighting your troth' was an English phrase for sharing a sausage. Regretfully, I plighted often, without being 'affianced', but with a great deal of enjoyment. But he had to leave me, and I waited in vain to hear from him." She tossed her head angrily. "I thought he had used me only to satisfy his lust and was now plighting with another. When I returned to Blanchards for my birthday to spite him I shared a sausage with a boy I knew from childhood." Her eyes brimmed with tears. "However, you brought me a letter from him in which he reaffirmed his feelings for me, and apologised for not being able to write to me earlier and..."

"If it is Patrick Jane who has debauched you I will..."

"If we are talking of debauchery it was I who debauched Patrick, utilising the lewd behaviour and skills you had taught me." Her gaze was direct, and her voice accusing, and I bowed my head in acknowledgement of my hypocrisy.
She continued in a calmer voice. "Patrick writes that he wants to introduce me to his parents at Christmas."

"Where did you and he first, err, conjugate? I hope it was not under my roof, for I will have failed as your guardian."

Thankfully, for my peace of mind, and pride, the conjugation took place in Bath after I had returned to London. Matilde and Patrick had felt the stirrings of desire at their first meeting at 18 Queen Street, but the watchful presence of both Violette and me had thwarted any attempt for them to satisfy their hunger. I had foolishly allowed Violette leave to spend time with her family when Matilde and I visited Bath, and when I left to return to London Krish Armityge took over the role of guardian.
When I questioned Matilde about Krish's stewardship she laughed.
"Doctor Armityge had all of his attention engaged by a comely Spanish female, or she might have been Portuguese. They spent much time engrossed in each other, allowing me and Patrick to meet unobserved." She smiled softly in remembrance of their romantic assignations.

"Although without Caroline's help it would have been impossible. She acted as Cupid to Patrick's and my love affair."

"Why would Caroline do such a thing? She knows how seriously I regard my guardianship duties."
Matilde gave me an amused look. "Really Jacques, sometimes you are colossally obtuse."

The rough Channel crossing caused the girls to suffer acute mal de mer. Exhausted by the experience they fell into a deep sleep on the mail coach from Dover to London. This was just as well as I had much to ponder on during the journey. The first being the thought of Patrick Jane as a husband to Matilde, for although I knew him to be a fine fellow I wondered at his qualities as a husband. I had seen him charm tavern maids, house maids, and young, and older, ladies of the nobility, with his boyish charm and good looks. I questioned if he could be true to one girl after experiencing so many.
My conscience pricked me. 'The pot is calling the kettle black, Elijah. Look to your own morals before questioning others.'
Another anxiety was Matilde's sexual appetite. She manifestly enjoyed the fruits of love, and did not welcome long bouts of inactivity. If she 'shared a sausage' while awaiting Patrick's return to London and this information became public knowledge her reputation, and any chance of marriage to Patrick, or to anyone else, would be destroyed.
I have already expounded on the hypocrisy of the English, especially in sexual matters, and the behaviour associated with being affianced illustrates it well.

Fornication outside of marriage is forbidden, if not by law then by public opinion, although males appear to be exempt from this restriction. Any female who engaged, or was even suspected to engage, in the practice would be branded a whore, and in most cases become ostracised by society. However, many betrothed couples did engage in copulation before being joined in Holy Wedlock, which society tacitly, if not actively, condoned.

Matilde could share a sausage, as she refers to fornication, with Patrick once officially affianced, and as long as they were discreet blind eyes would be turned. If it became known she had shared sausages with a male not her fiancé she would be regarded as a harlot and shunned by society, well at least by the females. I feared if Patrick spent too much time away from her Matilde's appetite would overwhelm her intelligence, and she would become a fallen woman. Naturally I would warn Violette to be extra vigilant, but Matilde was a shrewd female who could easily hoodwink her, besides which Violette would be distracted with thoughts of her own impending marriage.