Simon Hawke - The Merchant of Vengeance

“Nevertheless, that does not mean that people will not talk, you know,” said Winifred with a slight smile.

“Well, people can say what they will,” said Mayhew with a grimace. “The fact remains that propriety has been observed in all respects, in all respects, indeed. What is more, you are a mature woman, Winifred, not a young girl like Portia.”

“Why, thank you, Henry. ‘Tis always a comfort for a woman to be reminded of her advancing age,” she replied.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake! You know what I mean! Odd’s blood!

Where the devil is that girl?“

“I would venture to say that she has gone to the home of one of her friends,” Winifred replied calmly, “where she will doubtless remain for as long as she can, the better to cause you concern. Rest assured, Henry, that she is not out wandering the streets, and even if she were, the watch would surely stop her, question her to find out why she was abroad alone at this time of night, and then escort her home.”

“And supposing they thought she was a whore out plying her trade?” asked Mayhew.

“Oh, Henry, I should hardly think so,” Winifred replied. “No one in his right mind would mistake Portia for a strumpet. She is much too innocent a girl.”

“Well, perhaps you are right, but there are still evil men abroad who would not hesitate to despoil an innocent young girl,” said Mayhew.

“All the more reason she would not be out wandering the streets,” Winifred replied. “She has been protected, yet not quite sheltered, and Portia knows full well the dangers of the city streets at night and what parts of the city to stay out of in the daytime and what sort of people to avoid. She may be headstrong, Henry, but Portia is not foolish.”

‘Well, ’tis true, I suppose,“ he said, somewhat mollified. ”She is my daughter, after all. The apple does not fall very far from the tree.“

“Indeed,” replied Winifred, nodding over her needlework and thinking that, all things considered, Portia must have fallen much closer to her mother’s tree than to her father’s. “I am quite certain that there is no cause for concern. She will return in due time, when she is ready, when she has had some time to have her cry and think things over.”

Mayhew grunted. “Bloody lot of nonsense, if you ask me. I do not know what she has to cry over. The very idea! All I did was save her from marrying a heathen Jew.”

“Now, Henry…”

“One would think the world were coming to an end from the way she carried on!”

“To her, perhaps, it was,” Winifred replied. ‘To Portia, Thomas Locke is not a ’heathen Jew,‘ as you say, but the Young man with whom she fell in love and whom she had planned to marry. She was so looking forward to it. ’Tis an important event in a young woman’s life, the most important event of all. She stood upon the threshold of becoming a woman, Henry, a wife and soon, no doubt, a mother. Now all that has changed, and changed quite suddenly. She has had no time to prepare for it. Her feelings are surely in a turmoil. Oh, Henry, can you not remember being young yourself?“

“Hmpfh! When I was young, Winifred, I had no time for such nonsense. I was much too busy working. My family was poor. We had no time for ‘feelings.’ We could not afford them.”

“Well, I should think. you could afford them now, Henry,” Winifred replied, her voice as steady and methodical as her needlework. “And if you find that you cannot, then perhaps I should go out and buy a plentiful supply for you, so that you could afford to spare some for your daughter.”

“Most amusing, Winifred,” Mayhew replied with a grimace. “Most amusing, indeed. I suppose you think that I am being much too hard on the girl.”

“I think, Henry, that you did what you thought was right,” she replied. “You have prevented her from marrying someone that you found unsuitable. Now give her some time. Once she has given the matter due consideration, no doubt she will come to understand.”

“I should certainly hope so,” Mayhew replied. “Can you imagine? My daughter married to a Jew! God shield us! What would people say? ‘Twould be the ruin of us, the absolute ruin, I tell you!”

“Well, you have stopped it, Henry.”

“Aye, indeed, I have! Indeed, I have! There shall be no chance of that now, I can tell you that! No chance at all!”

“Calm yourself, Henry,” Winifred said quietly. “You are becoming all red in the face. And when Portia returns home, pray do not go on about it. Leave her be. She will be like a wilful steed now; let her have her head and she shall come around, you will see.”

“Hmpfh. What makes you so certain?”

“A woman knows these things,” she replied reassuringly. “Indeed? Well, a man knows a thing or two, as well. And I have taken steps to ensure that this does not happen again!”

Winifred looked up at him and frowned. “What do you mean? What sort of steps?”

“I have already begun making arrangements to ensure that she shall marry someone much more suitable. Much more suitable, indeed,” he replied.

Winifred looked startled. “Have you? So soon?”

“Aye, I have, indeed. And what is more, I intend to waste no time about the matter. I shall have Portia married off well and properly before she can get herself into any more trouble, you may rest assured of that!”

“To be quite fair, Henry, you cannot blame Portia for something she could not have known,” Winifred replied. “Nor did you know it, for that matter. Do not forget that you gave your approval to the match, at first.”

“W’ell, ‘twas because I was misled,” Mayhew replied testily.

“The young man seemed entirely suitable and presented himself as such. A journeyman tailor, well spoken and well settled and employed in a good shop, with excellent prospects all around… ”

He grunted and scowled. “Zounds, what is this country coming to when such people are permitted to mingle with their betters? Why, to think of that. that. spawn of that detestable tribe of usurers with his hands upon my daughter… ”

“Henry! You are growing all red in the face again! I fear that you shall become sanguine in your humour, and then we shall have to summon a physician to bleed you!”

“Never you mind my humours, Madame,” Mayhew replied irritably. “There is no distemper in my disposition, I assure you. As I have told you, I have taken steps to set things right. In due time, this entire matter will be settled, and there shall be an end to it.”

“What are these steps that you have taken, Henry?” Winifred asked with a slight frown. “I must confess that I am much surprised at how quickly you have acted. What, exactly, is the nature of these arrangements you have made?”

“Ah, well, there, madame, you may see the mettle of the man that you shall marry,” Mayhew said with a self-satisfied air. “As it happens, fortuitous circumstance led to my making the acquaintance earlier today of a certain gentleman lately arrived in London from his country estate. A proper gentleman, mind you, to the manner born, one who dresses in the height of fashion, with his escutcheon embroidered on his handkerchiefs in gold and silver thread! He carries himself most excellently, most excellently, indeed. And, as we engaged in conversation, I discovered, by pure chance, that he was looking for a wife!”

“Happy chance,” said Winifred.

“Oh, I should say so, Winifred! I should say so, indeed! He was most interested when I mentioned that I had a marriageable young daughter-a very comely marriageable young daughter-for whose hand, of course, there had been more than a few suitors, although none quite suitable had as yet been found.”

“And I presume you did not tell him that she had but lately been betrothed to Thomas Locke,” said Winifred.