Chapter 18: The Empress

Marriette rode home from the ball in blissful exhaustion. Soon after they came home from Northdale, an invitation to a royal ball had arrived. They had too little time for Marriette to get a new gown, so she wore the gold one from the Summer Ball. The king himself complimented her on her dress, silencing the women who whispered about the poor taste of wearing the same dress twice. Torrance danced with her three times. She looked over at her husband whose expression was a fair match for her own. The only sour note had been her father's glare from across the room.

Anna met them at the door and welcomed them home. Marriette put her arm around Torrance and walked with him to the bedroom, though he didn't truly need the help. She let her dress fall to the floor and made Torrance lie on the bed. She slipped his pants off and massaged the muscles of his bad leg. Though they were much stronger than before they would never match the strength of his other leg. She worked up his leg making him groan with a mixture of pain and relief. He rolled to his back and she continued to knead the muscles of his thigh. Now his groans had little to do with the knotted muscles she was untying. When he sat up and kissed her she kissed him back with as much passion and need. Their sharing that night was the deepest yet.

In the morning she woke and trailed her fingers along her husband's ribs.

"So," she said, "this is the life of a noble lady. Days of idle ease, evenings of dance, and nights of passion?"

"Well, mostly." He caught her hand and kissing it, "what more do you want?"

"I want to make a difference. What good is it to be noble and rich if you don't accomplish something worthwhile?"

"What did you have in mind, my love?"

"I don't know yet, but it will be more important than what dress to wear next."

"When you know what you want to do, let me know, and all my resources will be yours to use."

"All of them?"

"All. I would rather be the penniless husband of the woman who changed the world for the better than the richest man in the city with an empty headed wife."

"Well, then, we had better get up and look at the accounts," she said, "I want to know how much I have to spend."

"Maybe the accounts could wait a while?" He let his hands wander.

"Maybe a while." 

After the noon meal, Torrance sat Marriette down in his office and began showing her the books of his accounts.

"Good grief." She rubbed her head, "I can see why Giuseppe uses his system. I can't keep track of what is going in and out."

"Giuseppe's system?" Torrance said.

"Let me show you." She took an empty book and drew quick columns. She picked up the most recent book and began making entries for expense and income. Soon she was so involved that she didn't notice Torrance leave and come back with a tea tray. Marriette drank absently of the tea and went back to her work. In the end, it took several days for her to complete the entries for the one ledger.

"Now," she said, "here is where your money is coming in, and where it is coming from. Here is how the money is being spent and where it is going. The difference is how much extra is available. If I add the income to how much you had at the beginning of the book and subtract the expenses, it should equal the amount that you have on hand now."

"That seems like a very complicated way of doing things."

"It is at first, but it lets you track just how much you spend on repairs on the estate, or here, or whether a vineyard is producing as much as it did in past years, or even whether one of your people is stealing from you."

"Stealing?"

"I think so." Marriette rubbed the back of her head. "See, here are the values of the shipments from your estate. Here are the values as recorded by your secretary here. They are different. Not a lot different, just enough to make me think that something isn't right."

"So, you think Harold is stealing from me?" Torrance was outraged.

"I don't think it's Harold, or the numbers would match."

"So, who?"

"I don't know yet. Giuseppe would be able to help me, but I think I can at least eliminate most of the possibilities. Give me some time and don't say anything yet."

Torrance reluctantly agreed. Marriette spent her afternoons in Torrance's office. What she had thought, once, to be wonderfully well organized was revealed as a labyrinth of paper. She persevered and gradually built up a picture of what was happening. The wagons were leaving the south with one load. They were arriving with a slightly different load. What she didn't know was whether the extra goods had ever been put on the wagons or whether they were dropped off on the way and bill of lading changed. She needed someone to go with the wagons and watch.

"I think I know what is happening, but I need to catch the thief in the act."

"I hope you don't mean in person," Torrance said, "I value you more than the small amount this thief is taking."

"I was thinking more along the lines of having someone accompany the wagons and watch."

"You have someone in mind?"

"I have someone I can ask," Marriette said. "I need to talk to Joan anyway. I think she is avoiding me."

"Let's go talk to Joan, then."

Torrance called the carriage and soon he and Marriette rode down toward the market. The late afternoon sun gilded the market when they arrived. Joan stood with her board as the wagons were loaded. When she saw Marriette and Torrance, her face lit up, and she ran up and hugged her friends.

"I wasn't sure you would want to talk to me again," Joan said.

"Nonsense," Torrance said, "without you we would still be making each other miserable."

"Now we need your help again," Marriette said.

Joan sent them inside while she finished the wagon. Marriette found Master Candler sitting at his desk.

"Giuseppe didn't work out?" he asked after he recovered from the shock of learning Marriette was a noblewoman.

"He was wonderful, but life took me other places. He is training his daughter now."

"I remember when I took him and his wife in. They had a young daughter and nothing else. He was honest and smart, a rarer combination than you might think. He worked here until Joan was old enough to help. I remember her following him around with a little board imitating everything he did. Agathia was like a mother to Joan."

"He is doing well, with three beautiful girls now."

"Yes, he sends me letters now and again. I asked him to watch for Arthur." The old man peered at Marriette sharply. "You didn't see him while you were there, did you?"

"Sadly, no," Marriette said.

"You want to keep this one, son," Candler said to Torrance. Marriette held her breath, afraid that he might take offense, but Torrance just smiled.

"Yes, Sir," he said, "I most certainly do."

Joan came in and Marriette explained the problem and what she wanted from Joan and her father.

"Look at the bottom of the page," Master Candler said, "if the last line is squeezed in, I always check it twice; especially if the writing is different. That's how people will sneak something onto a load, or make the drover sign for it then complain when it never arrives."

"So, do you have someone you trust who could take a few loads back and forth? Perhaps we can catch the thief now that we know what to look for."

"Send George, Father," Joan said, "he's smart enough, but everyone underestimates him."

Before they went home, it had all been arranged. Joan thanked them as they climbed into the carriage.

"I haven't seen him take this much interest in life since Arthur disappeared."

"I hope it lasts, then," Marriette said.

The ride home was quiet as Marriette was deep in thought. When they arrived at their home, Duke deLanguiers' carriage waited in the yard. At first, Marriette wanted to drive right past, but it was far past time that she faced her father and freed herself from her fear. She straightened in the seat, and when their carriage stopped she allowed Torrance to help her out as if she were the queen herself.

The duke waited in the sitting room, pacing back and forth as if he had been there for hours. Anna whispered as she took her mistress's cloak that he had just arrived. Marriette walked in on Torrance's arm.

"Father," she said.

"Is that all the welcome you give your father?" the duke said.

"It is enough," she said.

"How dare you be rude to me," the duke stepped forward with his arm raised. Torrance stepped in front of his wife.

"What is your business here, Sir, other than threatening my wife?"

"My daughter."

"You gave her to me at the altar," Torrance said. "It is too late to change that."

The duke ground his teeth and his face turned deep red.

"The reason for your visit, Father," Marriette said.

"Can a father not visit his daughter for no reason?"

"Not if you are the father and I the daughter."

The duke stomped out of the room without another word. When she heard the carriage pull away, Marriette began shaking.

"Forgive me, Torrance," she said, "but I cannot bring myself to be civil with him."

"And here I was thinking you were remarkably civil."

Torrance led her to a settee and held her until she stopped shaking.

The next morning she announced that she knew what she wanted to do.

"There are many people like Giuseppe. They arrive here with no money for whatever reason. Some of them have children. What happens to them?"

"Most end up in the poor quarters. They don't speak well enough to hold any but the most menial jobs. Some have special skills and do better, like Giuseppe, and the man I have managing the vineyards."

"So what if we made it possible for them to learn our language faster? Helped them to find jobs that they could do?"

"I think the church does some work in the poor quarters," Torrance said. "It would be better to ask them."

Marriette would have set off immediately for the cathedral, but Torrance asked her to wait.

"Even archbishops need to eat breakfast," he said. "You have made a connection there, but it doesn't hurt to be polite."

Marriette sent a note to the cathedral with one of the servants then waited impatiently for a reply.

A note came back that afternoon inviting her to join the archbishop after Mass the next morning.

Marriette asked Anna to choose something appropriate to wear to Mass, since she had never been to the church other than her wedding. She was sure it was nothing like the simple chapel she had attended with the monks through the winter.

Early the next morning, she and Torrance rode to the cathedral. Marriette was astonished the deep green gown that she thought too rich for church was the plainest dress in the building. Mass was a complex ritual of incense, music and word. Most was spoken in the sonorous Latin language. Amidst the pomp she caught glimpses of what she had seen at the monastery. She had been neglecting her prayers and contemplation since she and Torrance had reunited. She blushed at what she did instead of her spiritual exercises. Marriette took a deep breath and lost herself in the grandeur and mystery of the mass.

Too soon it finished, and a young priest came and invited them to follow him to the back. He led them to a sparsely furnished room. Marriette held tight to Torrance's hand. The archbishop came in dressed in far simpler robes than what he'd worn for Mass.

"Welcome, child," the archbishop said. "I see time and God have healed your marriage."

"The advice you gave was good, Your Excellency, but it took some time for me to put it to use."

"Never mind," he said, "you did, and the world is richer for your love."

He poured tea for them.

"Now, why did you want to see me?"

"I have met a few foreigners to our land, and it seems to me that their fate rests as much on chance as anything else. If they meet someone who sees their value, they may do well, but too many are lost to poverty and their children with them."

"The church has missions, we preach the good gospel to them and help them as we can."

"What good is the gospel if they are hungry? Even the monks had sufficient food, if plain."

"What do you think?" the archbishop asked Torrance.

"I think my wife is wiser and more generous than I," Torrance answered.

"So, child, what would you have me do?"

"How can I help?" Marriette leaned forward. "There must be some way that I can help make their lives better?"

"I will think upon it, and we will talk again," the archbishop said. "Now, tell me about your stay at the monastery. The abbot sent me a letter, but I want to hear from you."

So Marriette spent the rest of the morning talking about the abbot and Brother Stephen. Torrance listened with obvious interest as well. She hadn't spoken much of the winter to him. They had talked more about their own relationship.

"So, now I realize that I have been neglecting my prayers for...other things," Marriette concluded, blushing again.

"Those 'other things' are also precious to God, my dear," the archbishop said, "but perhaps it is time for you to attend to your spiritual life again; especially if you are going to undertake something like the work with the foreigners. You will need God's guidance and strength. I will look to see you at Mass again soon."

They left soon after that, but Marriette and Torrance agreed that more visits to Mass at the great cathedral would not be a bad thing.