Chapter 19: Christmas and Other Festivities

I spent most of the Twelve Days of Christmas of 1818 in bed – and before you leap to conclusions I was not being gripped firmly between Caroline's thighs but in the equally firm grip of an ague. I had set out for Bearsted on a frigid and bitterly cold morning, the day before Christmas Eve. By the time I changed horses at Swanley I was as ice – and then the rain started. I reached Ashford House soaking wet and frozen to the marrow. A hot toddy, a seat by a roaring fire and Caroline drying me with a large white towel, revived me, and that night she and I made the beast with two backs frequently and with great enjoyment. The next day I kept active by attending to various chores around the estate. At night Caroline kept me equally active in her bed.

We attended the morning service in Holy Cross church on Christmas morn, and any light headedness I experienced I attributed to Caroline's insatiable demands the night before. After a fine Christmas dinner I developed a shivering and a shaking fit, together with a most fearsome headache, and was packed off to a warming pan heated bed, When Caroline joined me she found me in a sweating fever.
For the next five days I slipped in and out of consciousness as the ague raged through my body. When the fever eventually broke I was as weak as a kitten, and had to be spoon fed gruel, such as infirm old men are.
Caroline was reluctant for me return to work, and especially ride to London, when my furlough finished. However duty is duty, and I compromised by taking a carriage to Chatham and then boarding the Dover to London mail coach. When I left Ashford House Caroline had me bundled up like a babe.

Colonel and Mrs Slade had returned to the bureau in mid-November, looking happy, satiated, and weary. They noticed my weakened condition when I returned to work after the Christmas festivities and exchanged smiles, suspecting my condition due to overindulging in the fruits of love with Caroline.
When I informed them of my bout of fever Zinnia became contrite and solicitous in equal measure, and sent round to 18 Queen Street a bowl of calves' foot jelly, an old wives remedy supposed to be the panacea for every known malady. Whatever ailment I contracted as a child, from whooping cough to ringworm, and all the ills of childhood in between, my mother would feed me that most tasteless and disagreeable of dishes.
I passed the bowl on to Rob for use as lubricant on coach axles.

Matilde returned from Norfolk after Christmas, and her starry eyed, smiling face and deep sighs of remembrance, informed me her visit had been a success. Patrick Jane was still on furlough, and he presented himself at Queen Street a few days after my return to London and formally asked for Matilde's hand in marriage. After reading Madame Bovary's account of the visit to Conquest House in Thetford I had no hesitation in giving my blessing to the union. Emma Bovary had failed to seduce Patrick, despite deploying all her considerable charm – although she did report, with a certain degree of satisfaction, that Patrick's cousin Rowland had succumbed many times – many, many times.

"Well, Patrick, I know you and Matilde love one another, and I gladly give my consent." I held out my hand which he shook energetically, babbling of how he would cherish Matilde and worship her, etc. We were interrupted by Matilde bursting in through the study door. She flung herself into my arms and covered my face in kisses. I held her away from me with some difficulty.

"That's no way for a newly affianced girl to behave." I said, smiling to show my pleasure at her delight, and she grinned back at me.

"Thank you, Jacques. Your approval is much appreciated." She put her mouth to my ear. "But I would have married Patrick without your or his parents' consent."

"I know, Matilde." I whispered. "Do you think me a fool?" I went to the cabinet and brought out a bottle of fine Armagnac brandy, and poured out three glasses. "This calls for a toast. To the future Mister and Missus Jane. Live long and prosper!"
I swallowed the amber liquid in one gulp, then threw the empty glass into the fire place, as I had seen Russians do. Matilde and Patrick watched in astonishment, and then followed suit.

When I told Zinnia of the engagement she began planning a dinner to celebrate the event. "This will be the first dinner party to be held in our home." She said, smiling across at Gurney. The Slades had set up home in the Bloomsbury Square house which Zinnia had shared with my sister Becky. Now that Zinnia was a married woman she had taken on staff to cook, and clean, and wait at table, as befits the wife of a Lieutenant Colonel in His Majesty's army.
After much deliberation she drew up a guest list consisting of Patrick and Matilde, Caroline and me, Madame Bovary and Baron d'Abbeville, and my brother Isaac and his wife Minnie. I was uneasy that Caroline and I would be appearing at an event together, however small. Zinnia explained sooner or later the information Caroline and I were to marry would become public. The banns being called before the marriage might gain the attention of the newspapers, and there had to be times and places where the two intending marriage partners had met and fallen in love. I appreciated the sense of that – it would be suspicious if we stood before a parson to be married without there being indication of us ever meeting.
But it was the last pairing on the guest list which caused me the most concern.
I had not spoken to Isaac since the time I had squeezed his testicles so hard tears had welled in his eyes. He was a pompous ass, and his wife resembled a stick insect, and the pair seated at the same table as me was something I would not enjoy. Once again the calm and sensible voice of Zinnia Slade prevailed.

"He is your only family living in London, Jack, and it is fitting he should celebrate his brother's ward becoming engaged. In any case your mother would be most displeased if she learned of the discord between the two of you. For her sake alone you should meet, and behave as brothers."
Which was true – my mother had asked after Isaac when I was last in Grantham, and I made up some story to keep her happy but ignorant as to the true status of the relationship between her two younger sons.

There was nothing for it but for me to visit brother Isaac in Tavistock Place.
I first sent Rob with my card, asking what time and day would be best for me to call. Rob returned from his mission and handed me a note from Minnie.
'Mrs Greenaway will be At Home all week between the hours of ten ante meridian until six post meridian. Major Greenaway is invited to call whenever he chooses, allowing that Mr Isaac Greenaway does not return home from the Law Court until after four post meridian'.
He waited until I had read the letter before asking. "Have you ever met your sister-in-law, Major?"

"Only briefly, before they were married.Why do you ask?"
He gave me an inexplicable look. "She is rather..." he paused, as if searching for the correct word or phrase, "an interesting individual, whose manner is somewhat eccentric." Rob's answer triggered a memory, but which I couldn't quite bring to mind.

"Well, I shall call upon them tomorrow after four pm and find out for myself, but as memory served she was a stick-thin female who fainted off if she spied the backside of a cat."
Rob smothered a laugh. "I think you will find the lady much changed, sir."

Next day, a litle before 4 pm, I knocked on the door of 7 Tavistock Place. A trim young housemaid opened the door, enquired who I was, and when she heard my name smiled broadly. "Madam has been awaiting your visit with eager anticipation, Major." She took my shako and showed me into the parlour.
Had I not known otherwise I would have never believed the young woman seated on the chaise longue was Minnie Greenaway, née Mows.
A petite but shapely bosom graced where once had been only flatlands; pleasantly rounded hips where once no shape, other than of a quarterstaff, and a face with dimpled rosy cheeks, alive with interest, which previously had been thin and listless.
She rose from the chaise longue and enfolded me in well-formed arms, planting a firm, full blooded, kiss on my lips. In fact I felt the tip of her tongue trying to insinuate itself into my mouth. She eventually pulled her lips from mine, allowing me to catch a breath.

"Brother-in-law Elijah, why have you taken so long to make my acquaintance? Since marrying your brother I have waited almost two years for a visit from you. Now you are finally here let me take a good look at you." Minnie eyed me up and down as if judging a bullock. "You are a fine looking man in your uniform, and well set up, as was your brother, but as a soldier I hoped you would be wearing a sword." She licked her lips lasciviously. "I like to verify the length of the weapon a man carries."
She patted the chaise longue. "Come, sit by me, and we can better acquaint ourselves before Isaac returns home." I sat down, and she leaned against me, so close her warm breath caressed my ear when she spoke. Her hand settled on my leg, my inner thigh to be precise, and she squeezed with strong grip.

"My word, Elijah, those are fine thigh muscles. I suppose you do a lot of riding? I do so admire a man who is able to ride long and hard. In fact I am inordinately fond of having a good gallop myself." Her mouth landed on mine, but before her long slinky tongue could be fully deployed I sprung to my feet.

"Madam, you are my sister-in-law! Such behaviour is unseemly."
She was quite unabashed. "I am a very friendly and tactile person, Elijah. You mistake my affection for something more than what it is." She pouted prettily. "Besides, I have not had the pleasure of kissing you for two years, so I must make up for that deficiency."

Before she could continue her assault on my virtue the door opened, and Isaac entered the room. I was shocked at the change in his appearance from when last I saw him. He had been getting podgy, and was growing a substantial paunch, but now he was as thin as a greyhound. All the flesh Minnie had gained had been lost from her husband. Isaac appeared years older than his age, which was two years younger than my twenty nine. His dark rimmed eyes and drawn face gave the appearance of a man who had been galloping every minute of every day and night for the past two years, and given the obvious sexual appetite of his wife it was probably true. I handed over the invitations to Matilde's engagement party, and Minnie uttered a cry of delight.

"Isaac and I will love to attend, and look forward to meeting your ward and her fiancé."
I made some excuse as to why I couldn't stay for supper and left. The comely housemaid handed me my shako in the hall, and as I was putting it on I noticed Minnie leading Isaac upstairs.

I admit I was anxious as how Minnie would behave at the engagement party, but apart from giving each male a fulsome kiss on being introduced she behaved with the utmost propriety. In fact the dinner party was a resounding success. Baron d'Abbeville kept us enthralled with anecdotes of his time as a courtier at Versailles, and Patrick revealed he had been working on the fish dock at Fleetwood, while keeping a Fenian society based in the fishing port under surveillance. This came as a complete surprise to me as I thought he had been in Manchester.

"Was that the reason I caught an odour of fish whenever I came near you during my stay at your parent's house?" Madame Bovary asked him, arching her eyebrows.

"No, Madam, that was to prevent you from seducing me." Patrick's reply caused laughter. Emma Bovary laughed the loudest, but Matilde laughed the longest.
Even Isaac seemed less pompous than at my last meeting with him, and related some interesting titbits of information relating to the great and the good of society. Caroline and I said little, content to be together, and we held hands under the table like the besotted pair of lovers we were. She had given me a belated Christmas present, not what you imagine, but a pair of boots, which, like those favoured by the Duke of Wellington were knee length rather than the ankle length Hessian boots I had been wearing. Without my knowledge, and with the assistance of Molly March, she had taken a pair of my Hessian boots to a boot maker in Maidstone, who had crafted me a pair of the most comfortable boots I had ever owned.

"Although not as famous as some of the London boot makers Mr Barrett is renowned throughout the county." Caroline had said as she had helped me on with the footwear. Mr Barrett also had made a pocket within the top of the right boot to hold a small blade, something like a skean dhu, the small sharp knife worn in the top of a Highlander's hose.
I recognised one of the maids serving us at Zinnia's table, and when I heard her Irish accent I remembered she was Bridey Murphy, the Shelleys' former house maid. After we had finished dinner Zinnia told me that Bridey had been summarily dismissed when the Shelleys had left for the continent.

"They had given her no warning of their imminent departure, and she found herself unexpectedly, and abrubtly, without employment or accommodation. The callous behaviour towards a servant who had given them loyal service for many years does not show the Shelleys in a very good light, and I am surprised Mary Shelley acted in such a manner, although Bridey thinks Percy Shelley was behind the cruel and uncaring action."
Later that evening, as Caroline and I were leaving the house, Bridey approached me. "Begging your pardon, sir, but would you convey my regards to your man Woody. He will remember Bridey Murphy."

"Alas, Bridey, I'm afraid Woodrow Allen met his death over a year ago."
Her face expressed the shock at the news, and she crossed herself. "He was a good man, so he was. I shall say a prayer for his soul." She had tears in her eyes, and I wondered how close romantically Woody had been to Bridey when he was surreptitiously obtaining information from her, regarding her employers, the Christmas he and I spent in Marlow with Becky and Zinnia.

It was just as well that Isaac and I had repaired the rift between us at Zinnia's dinner party, for only a week later I received a letter from my Uncle Caleb informing me of the death of my father. I went to Isaac's chambers in Eagle Street to inform him – going to Tavistock Place would put me in the sights of Minnie and I wondered how long I would be able to beat off a determined assault from her.

"I have an important case in a week's time and doubt I can spare the time to attend the funeral," he saw the anger flame in my face, " but if we take the mail coach to Grantham and return within a day or two I will be able to do both my filial and my legal duty."
We took seats in the mail coach two days later. The London-York mail coach stopped at the Angel Inn at Grantham, and took a little over thirteen hours for the journey. As we clattered along the Great North Road Isaac told me of his marriage to Minnie Mows. As I suspected the marriage was no love match but a simple business transaction. Judge Mows got his unmarried, and seemingly unmarriageable, daughter off his hands, and Isaac received preferment in his profession. Isaac had no qualms about taking the unprepossessing, and possibly frigid, female to his bed as he had a mistress to take care of his sexual needs, and had made certain the female staff chosen for the marriage home were comely and complaisant rather than able, other than the cook of course.

After consummating the marriage Isaac had rolled over preparatory to sleep, as he thought Minnie would not expect, or welcome, any further marital duty. Instead he found his deflowering of Minnie had awakened in her a voracity for sexual congress not even his most ardent of mistresses exhibited.