Chapter 13

WILLIAM AND BENEDICT made their way down to the smoking room and joined the throng of men. The crowd was much different to the one of only a few hours ago. While there were just as many men well-dressed and clearly from money, the atmosphere in the room was completely different. The men from earlier had mostly an air of greedy eagerness about them, but this crowd positively hummed with excitement.

William turned to Benedict with the intention of asking him what his impression of the crowd was, but Benedict was, for the second time that evening, suddenly and violently launched forwards. William didn’t have time to register what had happened until Benedict was already sprawled on the floor.

“My apologies!” boomed a voice from behind him. A large hand reached out and grasped Benedict around the arm and hauled him back to standing. “Sometimes I forget my own strength.”

The newcomer was easily the largest man William had ever seen in his life. William was usually the tallest wherever he went, but it would appear that Aunt áine had a habit of collecting men over six foot – her husband, William, Benedict and the menacing Charles included. This man, however, was tall enough that William had to look up. He had all the characteristics of a thuggish brute – a broken nose, thin lips covering slightly crooked teeth, and a menacing scar running from his left brow to his cheek, masked partially by an ominous eye patch. All of this, however, was completely overshadowed by his warm smile.

“Not to worry,” Benedict said, straightening his jacket.

“David,” the giant said as he held out his hand.

William waited for the punchline, but it seemed the irony of the giant’s name was lost on him. “William,” he said, grasping David’s hand. “And this is Ben.”

David was notably more careful as he shook William’s hand and then Benedict’s. “I bet you pair are terribly excited for your first meeting, eh?”

“More like nervous,” Benedict muttered.

“No need to be nervous, son. The ladies are all very kind. So long as you’re respectful, they are very friendly indeed. In fact, I came here looking for a wife, but I’ve found myself with a gaggle of sisters as well.”

A few of the other men cheered, and one shouted, “Don’t let our actual sisters meet them, we’ll be outnumbered!”

The room exploded with laughter.

William pondered David’s statement. His own sister, Catherine, had enjoyed his company when they were children. But she’d feared their father and would only speak to William when she thought she’d not be caught. He’d often find little presents, usually a book or some hard-boiled sweets, left hidden about his room, which would come in useful when his father grew tired of looking at him and had him confined in his small chamber, sometimes for days on end.

Catherine had been married off on her seventeenth birthday to a monstrously old man who was a friend of their father’s. She’d been shipped off to somewhere in the Scottish Highlands to live with her new husband, and William had never heard from her since. He recalled hearing a year later an ambiguous report that his brother-in-law had died, but his sister had never returned. He peered out the window, though could see nothing in the pitch black, and wondered if Catherine was anywhere near to where he was now.

He pondered what it would be like to have a female friend. He had Martha, of course. But she was more like a clucking mother hen most of the time. What little time William could afford to spend with women was usually for one thing and one thing only. He’d never really had occasion to reach out for friendship.

Before William could ponder any longer, Angus appeared and directed them to the front door.

“There’s a storm brewin’, lads. Dinnae be sneakin’ oot to the gardens t’night. Yis wouldnae want to catch yer death, aye?” he said as he directed them towards several carriages. The men climbed in, each coach taking two or three of them before galloping off, the next carriage promptly taking its place.

When it was finally William and Benedict’s turn, they were joined by David. William saw the coach visibly strain under the weight of the giant, but the horses looked strong enough to pull the night sky across the horizon, and William supposed the three of them wouldn’t be too much strain for them.

“I can’t wait to get there!” David said enthusiastically. “I have finally found myself a woman who is more intimidating than this.” He gestured the length and breadth of himself with shovel-like hands. “She is some woman, my Deidre,” he continued, looking dreamily out at the sliver of moon that had finally escaped the clouds.

The journey was over in a matter of minutes. Heavy droplets of rain pattered down just as the three men stepped out of the coach. They hurried into a similar (though decidedly grander) hallway as was in their own accommodation. As they waited for the last of the carriages to arrive, the men excitedly fixed themselves. From somewhere down the hall, William heard the distinct sound of music that he would have expected from a tavern and not a soiree in a castle. Some of the men had already begun tapping their feet to the tune. As the final men disembarked from the carriage, Wilfred addressed the group.

“Welcome to Gaol Manor. This is for the benefit of our new guests. Do not forget the significance of the flower corsages. You may go where you please within the manor, but be warned that there will be a number of us scattered about, and if at any point we think a person is uncomfortable, we will intervene. If you are invited back to a lady’s room, just bear in mind that there may be other women in their own rooms who do not wish to interact with any of you. Now, follow me!”

Wilfred led the men down the corridor. The instant the ballroom doors opened, the men poured in, each excitedly greeting the women as they passed them like old friends. Benedict stilled beside William. William stayed resolutely beside the young lad, fearing Benedict might turn on his heel and flee. Within a matter of seconds, a tiny woman in a nightdress strode up to them with purpose, and William could practically feel David quiver beside him. She presented her wrist to the giant, showing him the bright marigold she donned.

David’s eyes were the size of dinner plates as he delicately took her wrist and inspected the flower. “Are you sure?” he asked. “A marigold is a big step.”

The small woman grinned up at him. “I’m happy with my choice if you are.”

“All the riches in the world wouldn’t make me happier,” David whispered.

The small woman took his hand in hers and walked him out of the ballroom.

“They have been courting for weeks,” came a voice from behind them.

The pair spun around to face Wilfred, who wore a massive grin on his face. “I knew those two would be a great match well before they met. Sometimes fire engulfs fire, but those two flames danced together. ”

“You knew?” Benedict asked dubiously.

“Yup,” he said proudly. “I have a knack for that kind of thing. I guess that’s why áine and Angus hired me. I’m good at reading people, you see. I could tell that the pair of you were good eggs the minute I clapped eyes on you. I also have a fair idea who you’ll end up with,” he added, tapping his nose knowingly.

William scoffed. “How could you possibly know that?”

Wilfred shrugged. “It’s a gift. And I’m always right. Well, maybe more like eighty percent of the time I’m right.”

“I bet you are,” William muttered disbelievingly under his breath. “Why don’t you point out our future wives from the crowd then?”

Wilfred glanced about. “I don’t see them. But they are here, believe me. Anyway, enjoy yourselves, lads,” he said, just as a jolt of lightning flashed, illuminating the terrace and well-sodden grounds.

Wilfred offered the pair another grin as he turned around and began walking the perimeter of the room.

William scanned the crowd. Some had begun dancing and twirling each other around the dance floor while others grouped together in chittering crowds. A small group of women, each with a white lily on their wrist, looked nervously around the room from the corner. The men had given them a wide berth, and dutifully, not one looked in their direction.

William felt Benedict move slightly behind him as if using William as a shield from the rose-wearing women.

“Perhaps a drink first, eh, Ben?” William asked.

Three quickly sipped whiskies later, and Benedict finally had the courage to make eye contact with some of the fairer sex. A pair of rose-wearing women had been subtly eying them for the past fifteen minutes but had wisely kept their distance. When Benedict finally looked up at them, the one that seemed to sparkle in her jewels and glittering dress threw him a little wave and beckoned the pair over.

William looked down at Benedict, who poured himself a fourth whisky and said, “S’pose I’d better get it over with.”

“Hello!” chirped the glittering woman. “I really wanted to come over and introduce myself earlier, but you looked a little bit frightened,” she said to Benedict, who instantly flushed. “I’m Emily, and this is my friend, Diane.”

“I’m William.”

“And I’m Benedict,” Benedict said, his face instantly dropping when he realised he’d used his real name.

Emily looked like she wouldn’t be out of place sitting upon a throne. Her face was regal, except for the massive smile she wore that hinted at a glittering personality to match her attire. Diane, on the other hand, wore a pretty but understated dress, and William had a sneaking suspicion that her humble appearance was on purpose. While Emily might have been the one who twinkled like a royal, Diane held herself like one. William had the sneaking suspicion that she might indeed be blue-blooded. Though not from England. Diane had a skin tone a shade darker than William’s. Her hair was just as raven-black as William’s was, and her eyes obsidian. However, he didn’t think she had the same ancestry that his father had – his actual father, that is.

Diane seemed to have her roots from somewhere else. William didn’t know enough about the world to try and place her heritage, but found himself keen to try and place her accent.

Diane offered William and Benedict a little smile and turned to Emily. Her hands moved in a series of gestures.

“Diane says she’s very pleased to meet you. She’s deaf and mute, you see,” Emily added at the confused look on William’s face. “I’m the only one here who has been able to fully learn all her signs so far, but the rest are trying.”

As if on cue, one of the men from across the room caught their attention with his clumsy hand movements. Diane looked at him with confusion, and he shook his head, clearly having realised he’d got a few of the gestures wrong. With great concentration, he repeated the hand movements again. Diane’s bright smile showed she must have understood what the man was saying, for she turned to Emily and gestured something else.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” Emily said, her hands moving with her words. “You go on ahead. I’m perfectly fine here!”

Diane bobbed her head and excitedly took off in the direction of the man who had spoken her language.

“Benedict, you look awfully nervous. You really ought not to be. The women here really are delightful. I’ve never met a single one who was in any way mean. Well, except for one,” she said, placing a thoughtful finger on her chin, “but she is long gone. Nasty piece of work, she was.”

“Is that so?” William asked, not really knowing what else to say.

Emily nodded. “I usually wouldn’t dream of spreading gossip, but it was all very public what happened, and there’s a fair few of us still very angry about it. Besides, everyone here unfortunately knows Tilly’s tale now, and it’s bound to be brought up in conversation. The ‘Jane Incident’.”

Benedict leaned forwards unsteadily. “The Jane Incident?”

A distasteful grunt emanated from Emily. “My apologies. That wasn’t very ladylike. Anyway ... See, Tilly has been here for a while now. Oh” – Emily interjected as Benedict scanned the crowd – “you needn’t look for her. She’ll be in her rooms, and you’ll most likely never meet her. Anyway, as you probably know, everyone has a story of why they’re here. And some are here as a result of very traumatic events. It’s up to them if they want to share their story. Though, as you can imagine, many don’t. Tilly never spoke about why she was sent here to anyone. She didn’t come out of her room for months, and when she finally did, we were all very cautious around her, not wanting to spook her. Eventually, she started coming down for her food, instead of taking it in her rooms. We all decided it was probably best not to push her and to let her take things at her own pace. Eventually, she became our friend. Though she barely speaks and occasionally will take herself away from the group if the energy gets too high. That’s usually from me. I can be quite a chatterbox, so I’m told. My friends and I came up with a plan that if it seemed like I was getting too carried away on a subject and it looked like Tilly was getting a bit flighty, one of the girls would mention the weather, and I would know to rein it in and ... Oh, sorry,” she said, looking at the pair of men. “I think I’m doing it right now!”

“I don’t mind,” William said, earnestly. It was probably the most words he’d ever heard in such a short space of time, but William could tell that Emily had a good, kind soul, and those were the kind of people who deserved all the time in the world.

“Nor I,” said Benedict. His brows furrowed slightly, and William wondered if four whiskies was too many for the lad to keep track of the story.

“You are very kind,” Emily said. “Well, anyway, Tilly began to come out of her shell a bit more. And, eventually, she even started attending the soirees, wearing a lily, of course. We were all so proud of her, and the men had been well warned to give her plenty of space. What none of us knew, however, was that one of the new ladies that had just arrived that evening knew who Tilly was and knew why she was here. Jane. She told everyone who would listen, gossiping about poor Tilly. Tilly was the daughter of a ridiculously rich merchant. She caught the eye of an evil man who coveted her – or, should I say, coveted her fortune. He wormed his way into the family and the moment he got her alone—” Emily sucked in a breath, her lips pursing together as if to stop herself from speaking. Finally, she continued, “Forget I said that last bit. I really do talk more than I ought to.”

William felt bile rise in his throat.

“His idea was to create a situation where her family couldn’t refuse his offer of marriage,” Emily said.

Benedict drew in a sharp breath. “They didn’t, though, did they? They sent her here instead?”

Emily shook her head. “They agreed to the marriage.”

William’s fists clenched at his side .

“As it turned out, Tilly wasn’t as well off as everyone thought. Her father had gambled away all the family money, and when her attacker found out, he wanted nothing more to do with her. The family managed to keep the scandal quiet, for the most part. So, her father shipped her off here, traumatised and pregnant, in a hope of finding a man who would restore the family fortune.”

“She was pregnant?” Benedict whispered.

Emily’s brows knotted in frustration once more. “Think before you speak, Emily,” she whispered to herself before turning to the pair of men and saying, “It’s not a secret, per se. She had the baby, and Aunt áine found a lovely couple to help raise him until Tilly had healed.”

Benedict had obviously been contemplating the same thoughts as William, of a young girl, abused and whisked off to an unfamiliar place, only to have her baby torn from her breast to be raised by someone thought more stable than her.

As if Emily could read their thoughts, she said, “She can still visit him, and Tilly does spend a good deal of her day over at the maids’ cottage. Anyway, we all knew she was pregnant when she came here but obviously not the details behind it. But a few months ago, Jane came along. Her father was friends with Tilly’s father, who had told him the story when he was drunk one night, along with the fact that he’d shipped Tilly off here. No one knows why Jane’s father engaged the services of Aunt áine, but Jane ended up here, recognised Tilly and told everyone her story.”

“What happened to Jane?” Benedict asked, his nose wrinkling in distaste.

“Aunt áine was livid when she found out. Before the night was over, she had the servants swoop in and escort Jane off the premises. She was immediately put in a carriage and returned to her father. Tilly didn’t come out of her room for weeks after that, except to visit her son. In fact, today was the first day she came down to the ballroom to mingle with the rest of the girls before the men got here. ”

William couldn’t think of what to say – nothing suitable for the ears of a young lady, at least. Nor, it seemed, could Benedict.

“Oh look!” squealed Emily, pointing at a group of women. “There’s Phillis. Apologies, I really must dash,” she said to the pair. “Have fun and be sure to come and speak to me later!” With that, she twirled off into the crowd.

In less than half an hour, William and Benedict had made the rounds and met almost everyone. While there were many beautiful women with wonderful personalities, William couldn’t quite picture any of them as his wife.

He recalled an encounter in his youth that he’d long since decided had been a figment of his imagination. He’d probably been suffering from the effects of hypothermia at the time, but he distinctly remembered staring in awe at the fairy’s fire-red hair and wicked smile. She’d made a joke, the details of which William had etched into his mind forever. It had been the first time he’d ever genuinely laughed. He’d never really thought about it before he met the fairy. He’d never had an occasion to laugh, he guessed. His entire family, except his sister and old aunt, had hated him. He’d had no friends, and everyone under his father’s employment had been under strict instructions to ignore him. So, when the fairy, who’d appeared out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly, had made him laugh, she’d ruined him for other women.

He’d returned to the fairy tree the next day, even with a chill in his bones, and any day after that when he wasn’t confined to his rooms, for almost a full year, but she’d never appeared again.

He often pictured his imaginary fairy, though nowadays he pictured her as a woman grown. If he ever allowed himself to dream about a wife, it was her face he saw.

William sighed as he glanced around the room. He’d better forget about the fairy; she wasn’t real. But these women were. And someone among them would hopefully be his future wife.

Benedict, who’d wandered off to get another drink, had yet to return. William finally found him surrounded by six rose-wearing women who were excitedly chatting to him. While Benedict wore an appeasing smile, William noticed that his hands were by his side, grasping his trousers, the poor boy’s knuckles turning white.

Draining his whisky, William wandered off to save the poor soul.