Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

matters? I do not believe we are acquainted, other than through our mutual acquaintance in Mr Wallace.’
    ‘Who I am does not matter, for I was unable to find any way to prevent your duel, and it further does not matter, for that duel was a farce.’
    I prepared myself for the inevitable outrage of such a statement. I admit that this affair had taxed my patience and I little wanted to again endure the cycle of confusion, surprise and anger. I wanted to shout, ‘We have the clay bullets. All is revealed. We know you laid a poker across your face. We know you took a beating to pretend you’d been shot. We know you met on the coach from Bristol. We know the women you love have repeatedly rejected your proposals!’
    But instead I waited, with a frown on my lips, as Charlotte produced the bullets and explained their significance and Mr Wallace, unable to restrain himself, denounced the men as scoundrels. I sat silent during all this until Mr Jenkins, during the midst of his response to Mr Wallace, suddenly said to me, ‘You were there, on the downs! And you as well.’ The last was addressed to Charlotte.
    The accusation surprised me and I did not know whether to confirm or deny. I looked to Charlotte.
    ‘Yes, Mr Jenkins, that is how we know what had happened yesterday. We have kept a very close eye on your activities and you might think on that.’
    ‘You threaten us with exposure?’ Mr Sunderland asked, fear now overriding his anger.
    ‘I do, if you do not treat your future wives with the respect they deserve, and I caution you especially, Mr Sunderland, if you do not forever foreswear duelling.’
    This demand he had not expected and both he and Mr Jenkins clamoured for an explanation.
    ‘If you will be quiet, I will explain,’ she said softly but firmly, and then stood to address them. The weak winter sun caught the side of her face and the light, combined with her height and manner, commanded their attention. After the men had subsided, she continued: ‘I understand the reasons for what you did. You both wanted to sway the women you loved and for that reason, I am willing to overlook—
we
are willing to overlook—your transgressions.
    ‘But even though your actions were calculated not to risk life, your plan was ill conceived and reckless. I can understand, Mr Sunderland, your need to defend your honour, but I hope the scar you bear will serve as a reminder of your folly. And Mr Jenkins, I hope you will understand that being a gentleman is what you are, not what others perceive you to be.
    ‘You should also know that I have revealed your deception to Miss Bassett and Miss Chivington—please remain silent!—with the admonition that they not reveal their knowledge to you. I do not know whether their love can overcome their outrage at being deceived. If their love is the stronger and you do wed, then I trust you will honour them as they deserve. And know further that if you misbehave and they do not chuse to wield their knowledge of your duplicity, then
I
can certainly do so.’
    After this address, Mr Jenkins and Mr Sunderland were completely chastened and understandably confused. They offered little further objections and in a few minutes were gone. Shortly afterward, Mr Wallace left as well. I think he left still upset at the behaviour of the two men and still upset at Charlotte’s request of him. I too was upset.
    ‘You are troubled, Jane,’ Charlotte said to me after we were again alone.
    ‘I still cannot understand why you felt it was necessary to threaten those men and further to reveal to them that their future wives will know their secret.’
    ‘I must have my little fun. Oh, do not look so disapproving. Marriage is a delicate balance; neither side can have the advantage. I certainly take no side in these matches and I cannot say these will be happy marriages. There may be genuine love here, but there is certainly a surfeit of selfishness, vanity and self-serving.’
    ‘But the women …’
    ‘The women have almost as much guilt as the men. They have coyly played with the affections of Mr Jenkins and Mr Sunderland because they think that is the only power they have and that it disappears once they are married. I give them a sense of power that survives the wedding night and I give the men fair warning of that power. If the marriages proceed despite my machinations, then they may deserve one another.’
    Her words—‘deserve one another’—hung in the air. The winter light that had