The Fencing Master's Daughter Read online

  Exiting through the front door Henri summoned a hackney carriage and had it drive to the front door, where Madelaine quickly entered and drove off, bearing two dresses requiring detailed embroidery that Madelaine would complete at home for Claudette. She would work from home, for the next two days in the hopes the gentleman's interest would fade, with his failure to buttonhole her.

  Chapter Eight – Rencontres

  The news on the 16th of November dominating The Times was of the death of its founder, John Walter, overshadowing reports of Napoleon's lack of success in Moscow and the French army's ragged retreat. Whilst John Walter was mourned in the pages of his journal, Napoleon's retreat was greeted with glee in many quarters. Not least among these was the Salle Deschamps, where Louis and Henri celebrated Napoleon's failures with delight. Wellington's successes in Spain were toasted with an excellent bottle of wine by Henri and the Deschamps; and as the salle's debts were much reduced, life seemed to be looking up. Claudette had reported that Sir Robert's observation of her salon had ceased, and Madelaine could return, without fear of being accosted by that gentleman.

  That day a new pupil was introduced by one of their regulars, seeking daily private tuition with Louis to improve his long neglected skills. Louis was impressed by how quickly the gentleman re-learned the art of the sword and enjoyed the bouts with a gentleman, who showed real promise. Unfortunately when Madelaine and Henri returned home one evening, Madelaine found the new pupil, of whom Louis was so proud, was none other than Sir Robert Dickinson. It had been only good luck she had entered the salle quietly behind Sir Robert who was fencing with Louis, so avoiding a confrontation between them.

  Madelaine left the salle silently but admitted to herself that Sir Robert was an excellent swordsman, not up to her father's standards, but he moved with grace and speed, he would be a difficult adversary to fight. Seeing Dickinson for the first time at close quarters, Madelaine realised he was a more powerful man, than she had first thought from his foppish clothing. He was taller than Madelaine and despite some thickening of his torso, his body was muscled and taut. His facial features were strong, with a beaky nose and a small moustache waxed into two horns. A small mouth, and a complexion which suggested a preference for the brandy bottle, did not inspire her to either admiration or trust; so Madelaine resolved to avoid the man at all costs.

  Madelaine renewed her efforts to avoid the gentleman by making certain Sir Robert was not in sight before leaving Claudette's. She entered the salle by the kitchen basement, where she remained until Henri was sure Sir Robert had left each evening. She did not wish to warn her father of her suspicions, that Sir Robert was set on pursuing acquaintance with her, because his enjoyment in teaching so talented a pupil, was clear and his mood had greatly improved with the acquisition of Sir Robert's half guineas. Whilst deploring the coincidence that Louis's new pupil appeared to be interested in her, Sir Robert was totally unaware how close he had come to sighting his quarry; and did not realise the daughter of his new fencing master was the diamond he had been searching for.

  Sir Robert had given his mistress Belle her congé and found a replacement in a petite brunette by the name of Amelie, who he was enjoying breaking in to his pleasures. She was fresh, young, eager to please, and far less expensive than Belle. He had given up his hunt for the mysterious blonde diamond and had concluded Lord Wroxham had exaggerated his description of another of Claudette’s girls who also had blonde hair. While this one was fairly pretty, she was not to his tastes. Madelaine was both relieved and disappointed the earl had made no attempt to contact her.

  Madelaine's cause for disappointment was soon to be removed, one dismal rainy evening when Julian approached Henri as he waited at the back door of Claudette's. Explaining he was the Earl of Chalcombe's secretary, he informed Henri that the Earl was waiting in his carriage for them across the street, so that he could thank them in person now he was recovered from his injuries.

  No trace of bruising now remained to disfigure Edward’s countenance. The earl was nervously waiting in the closed carriage, a fine new coat of navy-blue superfine cut by Scott perfectly encasing his broad shoulders. Edward was optimistic this time he would make a good impression on Madelaine. But he was still apprehensive that his mission would fail to be successful. His waterfall cravat had required twelve attempts, before it was arranged to his satisfaction and his coupe à vent haircut gleamed from Plovett’s diligent attentions.

  Neither Griggs nor Julian had been able to obtain a more detailed history of Louis Deschamps' background, than that provided by Senor Vargez; nor discover his original name or date of birth. Edward had resolved, after thanking Madelaine and Henri in person, to approach Louis himself, as was correct before seeking a young lady’s hand in marriage. Henri was flustered by Julian's approach, so greeted Madelaine's arrival with a torrent of French in considerable distress.

  Madelaine, accepting the inevitable, agreed to accompany Julian to his master's carriage, but insisted for propriety’s sake, Henri came as well. Julian, well aware it would be difficult to separate the pair, ushered them across the road with good grace, accepting his relegation to the discomfort on top of the carriage, in the rain without complaint. Edward descended from the coach and handed Madelaine in. Henri followed Edward into the carriage and Julian closed the door behind them, before joining the driver on the box.

  A tingle ran up her arm as Edward held her hand to allow her to ascend elegantly into the coach. She caught her breath finding herself feeling surprisingly warm in the plush, closed carriage, despite the inclemency of the weather. Seating herself with her back to the horses next to Henri with Edward opposite, she waited with her hands in her lap for what he had to say.

  Edward gulped, finding his fabled aplomb deserting him for the first time in his adult life, as he faced the reality of Madelaine's peerless beauty. Forcing himself not to stare, he took a deep breath and tried to relax. Eventually he managed to speak his thanks and if the speech he gave, was not the one he had rehearsed, at least it covered the salient points of etiquette.

  "I wished to thank you both in person for saving my life, for I have no doubt without your timely intervention I would now be beneath the ground. I am also grateful for the information on the whereabouts of the red haired man. We managed to apprehend that felon and had an opportunity to have a private conversation with him. He was paid to arrange for me to be set upon and had been instructed to leave me dead, making it look like a robbery which had got out of hand. We released him in the faint hope he’ll lead us to his principal. I am greatly indebted to you both and it would give me great pleasure to reward you, in some way for my rescue."

  "No reward is in any way necessary, my lord. It was our pleasure to be able to do what any right minded citizen would do in the circumstances. Henri and I are gratified to know you have sustained no lasting hurt from the attack and are recovered from your injuries. We wish you well in the future and trust there will be no further attempts on your life."

  Madelaine seemed poised to rise and leave the carriage.

  "You leave me in a very embarrassing position, indebted to you as I am, whilst you refuse me all offers of recompense. If you will not accept a monetary reward, is there anything in my power to offer that would make your life easier or give you pleasure?"

  "It is very generous of you, but I could accept nothing for doing what was right. It has been pleasant to meet you in more fortuitous circumstances. Now Henri and I must be on our way home. We appreciate your thanks."

  "At least allow me to drive you home, it is now raining quite heavily and I have made you late setting off, please let me deliver you home to the Salle Deschamps."

  Madelaine and Henri reluctantly agreed as Edward already knew where they resided. Setting off home together, whilst Edward tried to make conversation with Madelaine who replied to his questions mostly with "Yes my lord" or "No my lord."

  Edward, who had been trying to put Madelaine at her ease without pushing his suit too dir
ectly, was aware it was not going well. From listening to her giving orders to Henri and his own servants he knew Madelaine was not shy, so her lack of responses, indicated no desire to further his acquaintance. Edward wondered what he was doing wrong, whether perhaps there was some gentleman whom she was enamoured of, whom Julian and Charlie had failed to discover.

  It was not merely that she did not want to talk to him; she was blocking all attempts at conversation. He tried to consider what subjects might engage her interest, without revealing exactly how much he already knew about her and her father. She was not like the usual debutantes who could talk of nothing but fashions and the next ball. He tried to discuss her work as a seamstress, but failed to get more than a couple of words from her.

  “Are you French by nationality, Mademoiselle?” he asked.

  “My father is French, my late mother was English. I was born in Italy,” was the longest sentence he managed to get out of her.

  “Have you travelled much through Europe?” elicited a "Yes, my lord," but no further details.

  “Have you visited Spain and Portugal?” He had personal experience through his participation in the Peninsular War in both countries. Again she gave a guarded reply in the affirmative.

  “Have you ever lived in France?” Elucidated only a shaking of her head, which she followed by looking determinedly out of the window and thereby curtailing further conversation.

  Some minutes later they arrived at Salle Deschamps, where Edward got down and handed Madelaine out of the carriage. Henri followed.

  “Thank you for bringing us home, my lord. Please do not stand in the rain to see us in…” Madelaine declared. Edward thought that was a dismissal, but in spite of her unwillingness to converse with him, he was determined to continue with his plan.

  “Please wait, Fulton. I will not be very long.” Edward instructed his driver. Julian slid inside the carriage, grateful to wait out of the rain.

  “Henri, would you announce me to Monsieur Deschamps and request a private interview.” Henri and Madelaine exchanged glances, neither of whom showed any pleasure at the request, but after a curt nod from Madelaine, Henri went on ahead and with an elaborate bow announced, “Milord, the Earl of Chalcombe,” to his patronne who had been seated in his office upstairs in their private quarters.

  Madelaine quickly absented herself with Henri and in a very sombre mood they prepared the evening meal. Both expected the storm to break, when Louis discovered they had omitted to inform him of their rescue of the earl. It was some forty minutes later, when Louis himself entered the kitchen in search of them. They had heard the earl's carriage draw away some few minutes before with relief and now dreaded Louis's wrath. It was however, a smiling Louis who found them awaiting his verdict and sentence.

  “Milord Chalcombe has asked to pay his addresses to you, Madelaine. He said he had met you by chance and was captivated.”

  ***

  Louis welcomed the Earl of Chalcombe, intrigued by his request for an interview and shook his hand.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord. Can I offer you a glass of Madeira and a seat?”

  “Yes thank you, Monsieur.”

  “How can I assist you, my lord?” Louis had asked after Edward was seated and had been served with a glass of the tawny liquid, which he sipped and was pleased to discover it was a dry vintage and not the sweeter variety preferred by ladies.

  “Would you be offended if I asked whether ‘Deschamps’ was the name you were born with, Monsieur?”

  “I regret that it is not, my lord. It has been a long time since I used my real name. I was born in Brittany as Louis Devereaux and had a courtesy title, as befits the youngest son of a Comte. I heard my family were executed in the Terrors. I was asked to fight for the French army, but I refuse to fight for a country which has killed my family.”

  “That relieves my concerns, Chevalier. I had the pleasure of meeting your daughter Madelaine, purely by chance, and I was captivated by her beauty. I would like you permission to court her with a view to offering marriage. I would be honoured to marry her…”

  ***

  “Milord asked about our surname and I admitted our real name was Devereaux and that I was the youngest son of a Comte, who had been guillotined in the Terrors, along with the rest of our family.”

  This was the first time Madelaine had heard her real name, although she had asked Henri many times for information about Louis's childhood and was aware they had changed their names a number of times, when they moved from town to town.

  “I have accepted milord as a suitor for your hand, Madelaine. I think him a very superior gentleman, whose sensibility does him great honour. It is excellent that you have managed to attract so noble a gentleman. Milord invited us to stay at Chalcombe Manor in the country over the Christmas and New Year festivities and I have accepted his invitation,” Louis declared, obviously gladdened by the news.

  Madelaine's downcast face greeted this information.

  “Please, mon père, make excuses and cancel your acceptance, I have no desire to marry and leave you, papa,” Madelaine pleaded.

  “No Madelaine. It is long overdue you were married and you will not find a better suitor than milord. An honourable gentleman, charming, handsome and wealthy, you should consider yourself lucky to have such a brilliant offer.”

  She repeatedly tried to persuade him to alter his decision but Louis was steadfast.

  “I will not change my mind, Madelaine. You had better accept my wishes on this matter and set about making yourself some pretty clothes, instead of sewing for other people. You should consider Milord Chalcombe's offer very seriously, it is unlikely you will ever get a better. You are twenty-four with no other prospects of marriage, so be a sensible girl and charm this suitor before he thinks better of his offer and chooses a more amenable miss with a generous dowry.”

  Nothing Madelaine said had any effect on Louis and the fine evening meal they had prepared of poulet chasseur served with side dishes of spinach in a béarnaise sauce and creamed parsnips was eaten in a very ominous silence.

  Over the next few evenings Madelaine was met by Edward from her employment at Claudette's, so Henri and herself were driven home whilst he attempted to make conversation with her.

  “Please my lord, I have no wish to marry. As a favour to me, withdraw your proposal and invitation to your manor. My father insists he will not change his mind. I am very honoured by your offer, but I must refuse.”

  “Mademoiselle Devereaux it is my sincerest wish that you will accept my hand in marriage. Please take time to reflect upon my proposal...”

  But she refused to consider the advantages to accepting his suit. The atmosphere within the coach was icy, colder by far than the wintry weather, which had turned from downpours of rain to showers of intermittent sleet and hail. To refuse to accept his nightly offer of transport seemed churlish even to Madelaine, but she continued repeating she had no wish for marriage and did not wish to become Edward's wife.

  Edward himself was greatly disheartened by her rejections and failed to understand why she should be so resolute in refusing to take her proper place in society, as Lady Madelaine Devereaux. He wondered what he had done to cause her to despise him.

  “What have I done Mademoiselle to make you dislike me?” He asked in upset confusion.

  “I have nothing against you, my lord. I think you are an honourable man and that any other woman will be pleased to accept your proposal. I have no intention of ever marrying.”

  Edward offered for Louis to live with them at Chalcombe Manor and Chalcombe House, that she could continue to practise her fencing discreetly at home and he would give her every freedom to engage in her own interests. He expounded the advantages of the match, his deep admiration for her, his financial security, lineage and titles, she would be able to take her place in society and attend balls, levees, picnics and musical soirees. She could have her own riding horses and carriage and as many fine dresses, bonnets and jewels a
s she could desire. She need never work again, except if she wished to. He promised her his permanent regard and fidelity, if only she would consider accepting him as her husband. Her father could live as a gentleman should and he would settle an income on him sufficient so he and Henri could live in comfort.

  Nothing changed her resolve, she showed no interest in his arguments whilst agreeing it was a generous offer and insisting she found no fault in him, she refused to consider accepting his proposal. Louis having ordered her to reflect upon Edward's proposal, with a view to acceptance saw no reason to discuss the matter further, beyond a polite enquiry as to what progress she had made in replenishing her wardrobe with clothes suitable to her newly discovered status. Madelaine's reply she had no intention of visiting Chalcombe Manor brought down upon her head, a furious diatribe for her ingratitude towards so excellent a prospective suitor.

  “Stop prevaricating Madelaine, you will go to Chalcombe Manor and you might as well accept my decision,” Louis insisted before terminating the conversation

  To Louis' determination she had no answer and however unwillingly purchased some muslins and satins at trade prices, She set about furnishing herself with suitable apparel for the Christmas visit. Not even Louis could browbeat her into accepting Edward's hand in marriage, but she could not avoid the visit with good grace. Perhaps if the visit was an utter disaster, Louis would agree her refusal was the right decision. She would not disgrace her father by her dress and he agreed to accept as an early Christmas present, a new evening suit of clothes for himself from a local tailor, still in fencing master black, but with a pearl grey coloured satin waistcoat with brass bound jet buttons.

  She completed her private commissions and refused further until the New Year, pleading an overflow of work to catch up as an excuse. The rush that Claudette had to complete the sudden flood of orders, for the Little Season was now under control. So with her own wardrobe to update, Madelaine cut back on her attendance to two days a week. She made use of the spare time for the refurbishment of her own wardrobe. She begrudged the initial expenditure on materials, ribbons, threads, gauze and beads but she soon found she was enjoying producing pretty clothes for herself. If the necklines were a little higher than was currently fashionable on the two evening gowns she produced, then their modesty would not be frowned upon even by the highest sticklers in society.