Marianne and the Marquis

‘No, perhaps not,’ he agreed. ‘But there was an unfortunate disaster at Wheal Mary the other day, and I was called to attend the injuries of five miners who were hurt. Two others were killed by the fall and beyond my help, I fear.’

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ Lady Edgeworthy said. ‘I believe that particular mine has more than its fair share of accidents?’

‘Yes, indeed. I have spoken about safety to Sir Henry Milburn,’ the doctor said. ‘I am afraid that he refuses to listen. Until there is a law to protect workers in the mines, I fear there will continue to be accidents.’

‘Unfortunately there is little other work for the men in these parts,’ Lady Edgeworthy replied. ‘They must either face the dangers of the sea or the mines—unless they are lucky enough to be put to a trade when they are young.’

‘That costs money,’ the doctor said and glanced at Marianne. ‘It takes every penny a man earns to feed and clothe his family and it is seldom that they can afford to apprentice a son for seven years, when he could be working in the mine and contributing to the family income. You will not know of the conditions in this part of the world, Miss Horne. The land is not as fertile as you have in the east of the country, I think?’

‘I did not realise that life was so hard here,’ Marianne said and looked at him with interest. ‘Mama always offered charity to any who called at the Vicarage, but most of the people we knew worked on the land and were at least well fed and housed.’

Doctor Thompson frowned. ‘I see several people each week that suffer from malnutrition or scurvy. I can help them, but what they truly need is a good diet and a decent house. The wages they earn provide them with neither.’

‘You must find that very frustrating, sir?’

‘Yes, I do,’ he replied and then recalled himself. ‘Forgive me, this is hardly the kind of conversation for a lady’s parlour.’

‘Please do not apologise. I found it interesting. Mama has always tried to help others when she can.’

‘You are very quiet today, Jane,’ Lady Edgeworthy remarked, glancing at her companion, who had taken no part in the discussion. ‘Are you feeling quite the thing, Jane? If you are unwell, you must ask Dr Thompson for a few moments of his time before he leaves. You may be private in the small parlour.’

They were using the larger front parlour that afternoon, as they always did when they had guests. The doctor was of course the first guest that Marianne had encountered, and she had worn her new blue gown, which she and Jo had made together, in his honour. It was stylish and suited her well, trimmed only with a wide sash at the waist, and a little lace at the neck. She looked extremely pretty, her hair swept back from the sides of her face and looped into soft swirls at the nape of her neck.

Jane shook her head, looking uncomfortable. ‘I am perfectly well, Lady Edgeworthy,’ she said. ‘I do not wish to waste Dr Thompson’s time.’

‘I assure you that I should not consider it a waste of time,’ he said. He glanced at his watch. ‘I think I must be going, for I have a patient to see later. Accompany me to the door, Miss Trevor. If anything ails you, I may be able to help.’

‘I shall certainly show you to the door,’ Jane said and got up at once. ‘But I am quite well, thank you.’

They left the room together. Lady Edgeworthy turned to Marianne and frowned. ‘Did it seem to you that Jane was a little quiet? She is not usually so when the doctor is here.’

‘Perhaps she does feel a little unwell. It has been very warm of late.’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Lady Edgeworthy agreed. ‘Tell me, what did you think of him, Marianne?’

‘Doctor Thompson?’ Marianne was silent for a moment. ‘He is an amiable, attractive man and seems to think just as he ought.’

‘Yes, I have always believed him dedicated to his patients. He treats them all, whether they can pay him or not.’

‘I thought that must be the case,’ Marianne said. ‘I think he must either have private means or several wealthy patients.’

‘I believe he was a younger son. His private income is slight, but he does have several patients who can afford to pay him.’

‘Perhaps he does not care much for money?’

‘He is not married,’ Lady Edgeworthy said. ‘I asked him once why he had not taken a wife and he said that he could not afford it…’ She wrinkled her brow. ‘I have wondered if he has been blighted in love at some time…’

Marianne was about to reply when the companion walked into the room. Clearly Jane had not taken the doctor’s offer to examine her, for she had not been absent long enough. However, she was looking a little happier, and the colour had come back to her cheeks.

‘Are you feeling better?’ Marianne asked.

‘Oh…’ Jane blushed. ‘It was just a little headache and I am quite sure it will go very soon. Indeed, it has eased a little already.’

‘If you have a headache, you must go and lie down until dinner,’ Lady Edgeworthy told her. ‘No, I insist, Jane. If you are no better at dinner, I shall have Miss Rudge make up a tisane for you.’

Jane got to her feet and left the room at once.

‘She is such a foolish little thing,’ Lady Edgeworthy said. ‘Why would she not let Dr Thompson help her?’

‘I cannot say,’ Marianne said, but she was thoughtful. ‘I think I shall go into the village in the morning, Aunt Bertha. I have written a letter for Mama and I wish to take it to the receiving office so that it may go on the mail coach.’

‘One of the servants can take it for you, my dear.’

‘I should like to go myself, if you do not need me for a few hours?’

‘I did not ask you here to dance attendance on me every moment,’ her great-aunt said. ‘Of course you may go—but take one of the maids with you if you wish. I do not think you will come to harm, but there is a market on Saturdays, and you never know who may be there.’

‘Thank you,’ Marianne said and got up to kiss her cheek. ‘I think I shall go up to change and write a short note to Jo to go with Mama’s letter—and to Lucy, of course, for she must not be left out.’ She smiled as she thought of her sisters and wondered what they were doing at home. She knew that Lucy would be missing her, for they had never before been apart, but Jo would keep her busy and not let her fall into too many daydreams.

She was thoughtful as she left her great-aunt and walked up the stairs. Jane had been very quiet, and she had gone quite pale for a while. Had she been upset because the doctor had paid some attention to Marianne?

No, surely that was wrong? Why should such a little thing upset Jane? Unless…she had a secret passion for the good doctor?

It seemed ridiculous at first, for Jane must be a few years older than Dr Thompson, who was no more than thirty or so—and yet she had seen something in Jane’s eyes. She had been much happier when she returned from escorting him to the door…

Was it possible that they had an understanding? Jane might have thought she was about to lose him to a younger woman…which was quite foolish, of course. Marianne would not have encouraged him had he shown an interest, which he had not. She had merely been interested in what he had to say about the social conditions of the area. Jane could not have known that, of course, and she might have thought Marianne was concerned to attract his attention.

If Jane cared for the doctor, why had she not mentioned her feelings to her employer? Some employers did not encourage their staff to have followers, of course. Perhaps Jane thought she might be turned off if she allowed her partiality to show? And Lady Edgeworthy had just told Marianne that the doctor could not afford to marry…

Supposing that the legacies they had been left would enable them to marry? Marianne paused on the stairs as the awful thought struck her. Would they plot together to murder Lady Edgeworthy, knowing that the money she had left to them as individuals would be quite substantial when put together?

The possibility put a different complexion on the matter and was chilling. Marianne shivered, feeling suddenly cold all over. She had not believed that Jane was capable of such a thing…but a woman might do anything for the love of a man.

Without the means to marry, Jane was condemned to a life as companion to her employer. Lady Edgeworthy was kind to her, but others might not be in the future, and the legacy might not be enough to enable her to live comfortably without seeking further employment should Lady Edgeworthy die. Besides, if she was in love[ ]Marianne did not wish to think ill of either Jane or the doctor, but it now seemed that she must consider them as possible culprits, and as yet she had not met Mr Joshua Hambleton.

Of course there was also the mysterious tenant at the house on the cliffs. She had seen him from a distance several times as she was walking about the estate, although as yet they had not come face to face. Quite often she would turn and see him staring in her direction, and she had wondered if he was following her—but why should he be? Besides, he had only recently taken up residence and had not been here when her great-aunt’s medicine had been tampered with….

Chapter Three

‘I missed my chance that morning, damn it,’ Drew said. ‘I was too slow to act, Robbie. I should have tackled him before he got into the boat.’ He was feeling frustrated for there had been no further sightings of the French ship—and none at all of the man he sought.

‘You can’t be sure he was the one,’ Robbie reasoned. ‘He may just be one of the smugglers. You said the cave was empty, but you saw evidence that barrels had been stored there.’

‘There were marks in the sand where they had stood,’ Drew confirmed. ‘The tide washes into the first cave, but the caverns go back a long way. I could not explore further at the time, for I had no means of lighting the path, but I think there is a man-made tunnel leading inland. I dare say there is a warren of tunnels all over this part of Cornwall, made by miners centuries ago when tin and copper were first discovered. The smugglers know of them and have turned their existence to their advantage.’

‘That must be how they get the contraband through,’ Robbie said. ‘It would be too dangerous to take packhorses through the village, because they run the risk of being betrayed, and on the open cliffs they would be bound to be seen. Even on a dark night, someone would be sure to notice and call out the militia.’

‘Perhaps, though often the locals are remarkably closemouthed on the subject. I think they take it to somewhere on Lady Edgeworthy’s land,’ Drew said. ‘The tunnel must have its outlet there—and perhaps it is being transferred to an out-building somewhere on her estate until it is thought safe to move it inland. I dare say there may be several dropping zones before it reaches its final destination.’