The Fencing Master's Daughter Read online

  “Henri, my father and I toured around Europe, with a group of travelling performers for several years. We all had our acts. When you were kidnapped from Vauxhall I was visiting the group of acrobats performing there, who are old friends. So if you object to me doing card tricks, I could have a wire put up for me to perform on and do an acrobatic display, I still practice. It’s a pity it is so cold, because I could do my riding act, I wore a very short, tight tunic for that with lots of spangles, I am sure everyone would enjoy that.”

  She did not point out she was only fourteen when she last put on the act.

  “No I am sure card tricks will be fine, I’m sorry I was so old fashioned, Madelaine.” Edward said feeling it was far less scandalous if she restricted herself to card tricks. He had to accept Madelaine was different to other young ladies and he would lose her love if he tried to change her. Although he imagined once she had borne him some children she would settle down to respectability as his countess.

  Madelaine omitted to mention the bath chair Lady Chalcombe’s search had uncovered. It had been scrubbed and some comfortable cushions had been added to improve its comfort. She thought Edward would object to being wheeled about in it and it would be better if he thought he would have to remain in bed throughout the party. He might then be prepared to compromise and accept the chair’s use. When it neared ten o’clock she kissed Edward goodnight. Nothing Edward said could persuade her to stay longer, as she said that her father insisted he had a good night’s sleep and she sent Plovett to him with a tisane to help him sleep and reduce the risk of further infection.

  Chapter Twenty-one - Joyeux Noël

  The morning of Christmas Eve found Henri and the kitchens teeming with activity. Joints of pork and beef were roasting and batches of bread were cooling on trays in the scullery. Jugs of lemonade and barley water were being prepared under Mrs Worters’ instruction. Henri was preparing a massive pike that would form the centre of his display. He had inserted a whole small orange covered in cloves between the fish’s vicious teeth and stripped the skin off the sides of the monster after he had carefully poached it whole. Assorted ingredients were marinating and others were being chopped for Henri had decided when most of the buffet had been consumed he would serve soups and ragouts before the evening’s procession to the village church of St.Mary’s for midnight candle-lit mass.

  In the banqueting hall more trestle tables had been set up at one end of the room. Cousin Almira moved around putting the finishing touches to the gay garlands of greenery which were hung in scalloped loops from the trestle tables’ edges. Piles of plates had been set at one end of the tables as they were being covered by the fruits of Henri and Mrs Worters’ team’s labour. Huge quantities of pork, venison and game pies, cooked hams, tarts, fruit cakes and cakes of other varieties, the massive cheeses, crusty bread, pickles and pastries had already been set in position and covered with white cloths.

  Two grooms manoeuvred a barrel of apples into position as Jenkins supervised the unpacking of tankards and glasses beside the barrels of cider and ale. There was an air of gaiety as the Manor’s staff hurried to arrange everything for the much anticipated party. No one complained, all lent a willing hand to prepare for the feast. The huge fireplaces on one side of the room had already been laid but not yet lit as the room was not cold as the helpers sped to get ready.

  Long tables set up in the centre of the room were draped in white cloths and surrounded by benches and chairs. The tables were adorned with cousin Almira’s arrangements of festive greenery which she had already prepared. She had directed their placement with justifiable pride. The double doors to the adjoining ballroom had been thrown open and the room’s massive chandeliers looked superb. The cut-glass crystals sparkled from careful polishing and their brass supports shone like burnished gold. Here Julian was casting an eye over proceedings and had removed his coat to assist in the placement of chairs and small tables around the sides of the room. The small stage at the end of the ballroom held a grand pianoforte and Lady Sophia’s harp. The edge of the stage had been embellished with evergreen garlands as were all the walls.

  Lady Chalcombe, checking on the progress, was pleased to discover all was as she would wish and beyond uttering a few generous compliments to her lieutenants went away relieved. As she left her staff, the village band arrived and took up positions on the small stage. After tuning their fiddles they practised a rollicking jig which enlivened the workers as they worked.

  Within the grounds the gardeners and gamekeepers were setting up lanterns along the walk to the gate Madelaine had opened, which was the shortest route to the village and would be taken by those who walked to the party. Any muddy patch was strewn with straw to prevent accidents and keep the villagers shoes and boots clean.

  Empty outhouses were readied for the additional horses and the carriage house had been rearranged so as many gigs and carts could be stored away especially should it rain. The Chalcombe Manor carriages used to bear the family to the Church were moved to the empty building behind the stables, which had housed the miscreants who had attacked the earl earlier in the year. A carriage would soon be harnessed to fetch those Lady Chalcombe had promised transport to the party.

  Madelaine had changed Edward’s bandage early that morning and Louis was pleased with how his leg was healing. They checked on the healing footman and Madelaine removed the stitches from his arm. On her return to Edward’s bedside she tried to keep his mind occupied. He was fretting to get out of bed, but he sneaked a couple of kisses whilst they were briefly left alone. He was gratified Madelaine was beginning to enjoy his attentions. For the sake of appearances they had left his bedroom door open after she’d re-bandaged his leg.

  The Purcell and Wynstanley children escaped once more from the distracted vigilance of their attendants and reached the banqueting hall where they were driven out by Jenkins for attempting to purloin slabs of fruit cake from the buffet. They were next berated soundly by Mrs. Moss, the Manor’s housekeeper who found them lurking in the withdrawing rooms as she was supervising their re-organization for the storage of the outer garments of over two hundred villagers.

  The children thought better of sneaking into the kitchens although the smells permeating upwards from those regions were tempting beyond reason. They had broached that sanctum before and been provided with samples of Henri’s genius, but they had learned not to get under his feet when he was busy. They were a little frightened of the redoubtable Henri and knew well that today they would not be welcome in his demesne.

  The Purcell boys were looking forward to the party with glee and hoped to find some choice spirits amongst the village children with whom they could create some mayhem. The Wynstanley boys, who were younger, and Miss Purcell hoped simply to tag along and had no real plans for mischief. However the children were a little constrained, by the threat that if their behaviour before the party was too appalling, they would be kept above stairs for the duration. While seeking a hiding place from their mentors they discovered the earl in his bedroom with the fair Lady Madelaine seated beside him and promptly crowded around, climbing onto the earl’s bed demanding she should entertain them with stories.

  So when their governess and nursery maids finally discovered the runaways they were astonished to find the children clustered around the earl and his bride to be. The silent children, their eyes big with horror were being regaled by the earl, who was relating a gruesome ghost story their attendants feared would give them all nightmares. However censure the earl, none of them would dare. So they waited patiently behind the children until the story ended. Then they bobbed curtseys and apologised profusely before bearing their charges away to be scrubbed and dressed for the party.

  Madelaine left Edward to change. His valet Plovett together with Timothy Griggs assisted him to dress without allowing him to put his foot to the floor. This process took some time before they pronounced themselves satisfied with his appearance and returned him exhausted to stretch out on top of his
bed.

  Louis already immaculately dressed, knocked and entered before they completed their ministrations. He made Edward drink a tisane to make him more comfortable before he was carried downstairs. Edward, who had been prepared to argue that he felt capable of walking downstairs, was relieved to be overruled and told to rest before the festivities. Madelaine returned wearing her ivory silk dress with the silver gauze overskirt and turquoise beading. Edward thought she looked exquisite and very much the Lady of the Manor. She sat with him as the villagers began to arrive on foot; on horseback and squeezed into gigs and carts of all types and sizes, all dressed in their best clothes.

  The atmosphere of exhilaration and delight of the villagers was a little dampened when the news of the earl’s indisposition spread, but was soon dispelled when they heard he would join them when all had arrived. They gathered in the ballroom and banqueting hall now warming from vast log fires crackling with gusto. Jenkins supervised the distribution of tankards of cider and ale and glasses of lemonade and fruit punch. The village band played some merry tunes as the group gossiped anticipating the feast now on display in the banqueting hall.

  Sir Henry Johnson, together with his wife and family, arrived but Dr Ashton had been called to deal with an awkward accouchement in the village and was therefore missing. He sent his apologies with his wife and three pretty daughters and hoped to attend later when mother and baby were safely delivered. Reverend Creighton, his wife, and Julian’s four younger brothers and sister had driven up in his overcrowded landau, but were full of good cheer. He was to say grace before the villagers descended on the overflowing buffet table but was now enjoying a glass of rum punch with Sir Henry.

  The Manor party with the exceptions of the earl, Lady Madelaine and the Comte de Morlaix had gathered in the blue drawing room and were consuming glasses of sherry whilst they waited to join the party. Sir Bardolph Purcell had inspected the feast in the banqueting hall and was full of praise for the delights Henri and the Manor’s kitchen staff had produced. He hoped they would do justice to such an extraordinary spread and his mood was of ravenous expectancy. Despite his gourmet reputation he had found nothing to condemn in the more plebeian fare Henri had prepared for the Manor’s village guests and was hoping the earl would soon be brought downstairs so the feast could commence.

  Lewis and Timothy Griggs chaired the earl down stairs under the watchful eyes of the Comte. At the bottom of the stairs he was installed in the bath-chair and a light rug was spread over his lap, his leg elevated to keep any swelling at bay. The chair was wheeled respectfully by Timothy into the drawing room, followed by the neatly turned out group of children and their attendants. He was greeted by cheers from his family and guests who had been jovially imbibing Edward’s best sherry. As everyone was now present they processed behind the earl to join the celebrations.

  Edward and his party entered the ballroom to resounding cheers. He shook the hands of those he could reach as he was wheeled to his position at the head of the top table. Edward’s family and friends took their places in proper order of precedence around the table and then the villagers found places at the other tables. Somehow everyone managed to squeeze in, even though an extra table had to be hastily set up for some of the village children in the corner of the hall. Reverend Creighton stood and said a brief prayer of grace, before raising a glass to toast the earl and his bride to be. There were some scattered requests for a speech from the earl, but they were hushed by those eager to consume the spread.

  Many conversations broke out as the villagers queued to be served with the repast while Jenkins and Henri himself made sure that the earl’s family and friends were provided for. Soon the room quietened as Henri beamed watching the efforts of his labour vanishing at speed by the appreciative villagers. Edward enjoyed the meal, although Madelaine had been seated further down the table, but found when he had drained the tankard of ale he had requested it was not replenished. However as Louis’s glass was being refilled and even Madelaine had taken a second glass of cider, he had hopes later in the evening, they might relax their watchfulness.

  As the buffet diminished in size, the joints of beef and pork were brought up and carved flamboyantly by Henri himself behind the buffet table. Some more elaborate confections, jellies, creams and gateaux appeared, so those who had thought themselves filled to the brim, did their best to manage just a little more. Sir Bardolph was in heaven eating stalwartly through heaped plateful after plateful. His wife Lady Callista seated a little higher up the table than her spouse, tried heroically to ignore his consumption until she eventually told Jenkins not to serve her husband with any more food, to the great amusement of those seated around her. Even Sir Horace managed a good dinner, although Henri carefully selected those items for his consumption that would least inflame an invalid stomach.

  The meal took over two hours before everyone had eaten their fill and while they replenished their glasses, the village band took their places once more and belted out some exuberant airs. Tradition at Chalcombe Manor expected the earl to distribute presents to the families of his villagers. As the village was built on Chalcombe land, all the villagers were technically his tenants and he was their landlord and responsible for the upkeep of their dwellings. Edward was wheeled to the front of the hall. Before Timothy and Lewis could prevent it, his chair was lofted to the centre of the stage by a group of villagers with frightening enthusiasm, as the earl smiled fixedly whilst gripping tightly the chair arms, while he was raised by his admirers.

  Julian had set up a small table on which were a large number of brown paper wrapped parcels of varying sizes. The names of the head of each household were called out and they climbed to the stage where Edward handed out the correctly named packages. Most contained lengths of wool and linen cloth and they were carefully arranged so that the amount was appropriate according to the numbers in the households.

  Some of the tenant farmers with marriageable daughters also found lengths of sprigged or spotted muslins suitable for making up into dresses for the spring. The tenant farmers and villagers were gifted first and then every member of staff at Chalcombe Manor was given a present of their own. These while including suitable lengths of cloth varied considerably according to what Edward and Julian considered they would appreciate. Mrs. Moss was in raptures over the new bonnet she unwrapped and Julian on whose shoulders the purchasing of the various gifts had fallen was overjoyed to discover a number of volumes, in their original Greek elegantly bound, he had been trying not to justify buying for himself.

  The earl was lifted carefully down from the stage by Timothy and Lewis and established at the side of the room beside Sir Horace Charrington, who had taken a chair to watch the proceedings. One of the villagers noticing Edward had no drink fetched him another tankard of ale without anyone noticing. Lady Henrietta Charrington began the performances by playing a pretty piece of Mozart on the pianoforte, for which she was loudly applauded.

  She curtseyed slightly to her audience and Lady Sophia took the stage and performed equally creditably on the harp whilst her husband Sir Anthony sang in a mellow baritone voice. A large wooden board was then set upright at right angles to the edge of the stage and Henri Vallon came forward to wild acclaim. He had removed his apron and toque and now wore a scarlet brocade waistcoat over his resplendent stomach and displayed fine lawn shirt sleeves. He placed a leather case upon the table and bowed.

  Jenkins asked for quiet and the earl spoke to the ballroom.

  “I would like to give thanks to M. Vallon, who very kindly volunteered to take over Chalcombe Manor’s kitchens for the holiday period, he together with our head cook Mrs. Worters are responsible for the wonderful feast we have enjoyed tonight. I give you the toast M. Vallon and Mrs. Worters.”

  Everyone cheered and drank the toast. Edward continued with his speech.

  “Lady Charrington and I would like to take this opportunity to thank our butler Jenkins, our housekeeper Mrs. Moss, my secretary Julian Creighton and all o
ur staff for the hard work they have put into organising this event. I would also particularly like to thank Miss Almira Charrington who was responsible for the wonderful festive decorations. I give you a toast to all those who have made this occasion special.”

  “I understand M. Vallon will now perform, but what he is about to do is a secret he would not reveal even to me. So I hand you over to M. Henri Vallon, chef supreme.”

  “I need a volunteer… Yes Lady Madelaine if you would come up on the stage. And stand just here,” Henri said placing her in front of the large board and removing a large spotted handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket, blindfolded Madelaine, taking care not to disarrange her hair. Madelaine stretched out her arms in her white satin gloves away from her sides and smiled sweetly to the audience she could not now see. Henri removed from the leather case seven large identical knives and Edward’s heart skipped a beat.

  He was about to protest before he remembered Madelaine had said his party piece was something special. First Henri tossed three of the knives in the air juggling them before adding a fourth and a fifth. He caught the knives and returned all but one to the table and bowed with a flourish. Edward caught the Comte’s eye where he was standing not far off unconcerned as Henri threw the first knife. It pierced the board above Madelaine’s head. A lady in the crowd let out a small scream, but Madelaine remained still and her smile grew wider.

  The other knives followed in swift succession, two above her wrists, two either side of her upper body and the final two either side of her hips. Henri removed Madelaine’s blindfold and she stepped away from the board proving he had not even caught a fold of her dress with his knives. He took her hand and they bowed as the villagers and Edward’s guests clapped and cheered loudly. Henri tugged his knives from the board, put them carefully away and they bowed once more before descending from the stage.