CHAPTER THREE

Marie

THE CARRIAGE RIDE from Baker Street to Welbeck was smooth, mainly due to the interior lined with plush velvet and cushions piled so high that it was impossible to bump against anything that would bruise a delicate frame. Marie was relieved to be free of the warm fetid stench of the Thames that pervaded the city like a soiled tablecloth.

They passed through the tall iron gates, a stone lion atop a pedestal at each side, each mouth frozen in a roar that did not exactly exude a welcome. The elm trees lining the driveway were covered with a rippling canopy of green that felt fresh and cool. As they pulled up to the front entrance, she noted the pale stone of the house: an apparition hovering above the grass, not fully committed to materialising in the bright glare of the sun until Marie had properly arrived and called it into being. The long central building had ground, first and second floors, while each wing to the side tapered off into two levels, punctured evenly all the way along both floors with thin rectangular windows. The grey slated roof was in good condition and edged with a line of turrets, from behind which a number of chimneys sprouted. A small portico reached over the front door, built of stone and framed with two large columns. Its roof, like that of the main house, was lined with turrets so that it reminded her of a medieval fort.

The carriage door was opened by the valet. Average height, light hair parted to one side and combed so that it pressed down tightly upon his head. He was clean-shaven – which, upon closer scrutiny, may not have been a wise choice, for his chin crept forward in its eagerness to make itself known. His blue eyes compensated for this, however, and she imagined that he would be well received amongst the girls of his class. Fortunate fellow. He must be paid very well. As he took her hand to assist her down the carriage steps, she glanced to the right and noted an additional wing of the house that jutted out at a right angle to the main building; it was considerably reduced in size and length, although it retained the turret along the roof façade as if to convince the viewer that it belonged. From its centre rose a rounded tower that would afford a most pleasing view of the grounds. The valet smiled at her, and she nodded. He was unfailingly polite, but she saw something in his eyes that she didn’t like, or trust. He needed watching.

Up the steps and over the threshold into the entrance hall. Tolerably cooler inside. She paused to take it in. A grand staircase, a wide hallway lined with floorboards, doors leading from it either side and a chandelier hanging in the centre. She followed the valet and Philidor, who were approaching the staircase. The valet explained, ‘The manor follows the typical layout of a house of this proportion. Off this hallway either side is the drawing room, breakfast room, dining room and the duke’s downstairs library, just one of three places His Grace stores his books, while towards the back further down the hall is the flower room, butler’s pantry, housemaid’s room, kitchen, scullery, larder, lavatory. The ballroom, a bigger library, billiards room and museum are elsewhere, as I’m sure you will find out directly.’

‘Most impressive,’ said Philidor.

Marie listened while she noted that the walls either side of the stair- case were lined with portraits of gentlemen, battle scenes and a few grey landscapes. She slowed down to absorb each one as they climbed.

‘Can I assist you, madame?’ the valet enquired. He was looking down at her from the landing.

She looked up at him; his pose was awkward, his back pressed against the wall in the corner.

‘Madame?’ The valet raised his eyebrows, and Philidor’s brow creased with his usual show of impatience.

Marie stepped up to the landing. ‘Forgive my slowness – I was just studying the pictures.’

‘Very well,’ the valet replied. He shifted his position, his body shielding something. His face remained impassive yet there was a very slight creep of colour above his shirt collar. ‘All of the portraits are of the duke’s ancestors. The landscapes are mostly of local sights. If you would like more information, I would be happy to discuss them in detail on another occasion. It will not do to keep His Grace the Duke of Portland waiting.’ He met her eyes and gestured for her and Philidor to walk ahead of him up the stairs. ‘If you’ll just follow me again, please.’ He turned left down the hallway with Philidor now walking beside him.

Marie stalled, glancing back down the staircase. Nearly in the corner of the landing, exactly where the valet had positioned himself, hung a small gilded frame and, judging by the look of it … She took a step or two further along to get a better angle. Yes, it was a portrait. Hanging lopsided.

‘Madame,’ came the raised voice of the valet from the end of the hallway. ‘May I remind you that the duke is waiting?’

Marie coughed and reached for her handkerchief. ‘My apologies,’ she said. ‘I just needed a moment to catch my breath.’ The valet continued to watch her steadily as she walked towards them. They then set off together, passing one, two, three closed doors either side before stopping outside one with a curious contrivance attached to it.

‘This is how His Grace conducts his business,’ said the valet. He pointed at each of the two little brass boxes on the outside of the door. ‘One is for ingoing messages, which His Grace receives privately behind this, his study door. The other is for outgoing messages that he wishes to communicate.’

A pause.

‘That is how this meeting will be conducted. You are not permitted to talk to him in person, at any stage. Do you agree to these conditions?’

‘Very good,’ said Philidor, just a trifle too quickly.

‘Madame?’ enquired the valet.

‘Certainly.’

‘Please sit here.’ The young man gestured to the two faded chairs. The rounded back was comfortable, yet the cushion beneath was thin. Between the chairs was nestled a narrow table with paper and a quill.

Marie settled herself and smoothed down her skirt. She sniffed – dust and a faint smell of vinegar. The hallway with its rows of closed doors stretched out either side of her, and she felt the chill of the vast empty space. It was so very quiet. She looked at Philidor; his complexion was flushed – excitement and over consumption of alcohol, no doubt.

A soft drop in the outgoing box as the first letter arrived. The duke must have prepared it earlier. A rustle as the valet retrieved the letter then handed it to Philidor, who read it then passed it to Marie.

Dear Sir and Madame,
Thank you for attending the meeting today. I trust the carriage ride was comfortable. Welcome to my ancestral home, Welbeck Abbey, a monastery until my family made it their residence in 1607. Although you have just arrived and seen nothing of it, I’m sure you can appreciate the size and facilities such an estate offers. I divide my time between here and my London home in Cavendish Square. I am pleased to say that my farmers and villagers are satisfied with their duke; however, I am particular in my demands. But more of that later.

In short, I would like to make you an offer. I have a certain commission I would like you both to consider, and in return I can offer you a way out of your current plight.

Philidor did not wait to confer with her but took a sheet of paper and the quill and composed the reply. A scratching for a minute, a cursory read by her, before he folded it in two and slid it into the incoming letterbox.

Dear Sir,

Thank you for your invitation and for providing the carriage. It was most comfortable. We are intrigued by your proposition and anticipate hearing the details.

Marie moved her chair closer to Philidor, and together they read the duke’s reply.

Excellent. I wish to employ you to make me a wax automaton. Similar to the one you call Antoinette but according to my specifications and my own drawings. My reasons for this are private and will remain so. It is enough that I want it done and I assure you the automaton will not be for public display but for my private use.

I assume you, Philidor, will work out the mechanics while Madame Tussaud will be under your supervision and responsible for the aesthetics. I will finance the materials, and it must be kept secret. Secrecy is of the utmost importance. I am a man of extreme habits and particularities, and I do not come and go from my home with ease. Therefore, you both living and working here is imperative for the duration of the work in order to ensure complete privacy and security of the commission, which brings me to my offer. In return for this, I offer you the use of one of my carriages, the drive, tunnel and underground ballroom. If reports are to be believed, your last show was adversely affected by the extreme weather, combined with the exhalation of the crowd. My ballroom is underground and is thus considerably cooler and maintains its temperature for longer than a room aboveground. It is also well ventilated. The tunnel of a thousand yards that leads to the ballroom is well lit. Rail tracks have been laid that travel from the ballroom back up to the house, enabling carts to ride up and down with food and building supplies as needed.

I reside in the East Wing where I maintain absolute seclusion. However, I offer you a bedchamber each in the central building (far removed from the East Wing), first and second floors respectively, which would accommodate both of you comfortably. A series of rooms link to the ballroom underground, and I will designate two of these to become a workshop each. Also underground is a sizeable library, a museum and a billiards room, as well as several other private rooms that will all remain locked and are not offered for use in this agreement.

The greatest attribute of this ballroom, which is 160 ft. long, is the potential it has as a performance space. You would be free to use your discretion to fit it out accordingly (within reason), and your audience members could drive in their carriages to the mouth of the tunnel and then stroll down through to the ballroom.

Being half an hour’s drive from London will not preclude people from attending your shows; in fact, it will only add to the excitement and mystique. I know the minds of the aristocracy, who crave novelty. The house and grounds are quite breathtaking when lit up of an evening, which I am sure will create the fitting introduction for your show that far surpasses that of the Lyceum.

Before committing to the proposed three-month arrange- ment, I believe it to be in the best interests of both parties to have a trial. As such, you are invited to stay this evening. I have had your two potential future bedchambers made up for this purpose and am certain that all has been catered for in order to ensure your comfort. Tomorrow, if you find you have enjoyed your stay and can abide by the conditions I set forth, and I in turn have not felt any ill effects from your presence, we will sign the contract. Please read through the list of rules now before you reply.

Philidor looked up, and the valet passed him another sheet of paper that had also been prepared earlier.

Rules that are to be adhered to whilst staying at Welbeck:

You are free to explore the grounds including the stables, the grotto, the chapel, the gardens and orchards, and the surrounding forest.

You are not at liberty to explore the manor house itself and must always stay within your designated wing and the front entrance. You are not permitted, under any circumstances, to approach or be in the vicinity of the East Wing unless you are specifically requested for a meeting.

You are not at liberty to explore the underground chambers, passages and rooms. This includes my underground library, museum and billiards room. You may use the designated areas of the ballroom and the two rooms chosen to be workshops.

When I need to tour my estate, farm and village, I do so with the aid of an umbrella to hide my face. Everybody in the vicinity, and now both of you as my guests, understand that if sighted, you are not, on pain of losing your position or worse, to look at or talk to me directly.

You are not permitted to entertain any guests until the three- month trial is over. And then, only once you have submitted to me beforehand a written appraisal of their character, family background and occupation (if appropriate), as well as the purpose of their visit, and their arrival and departure times. As such, there are to be no parties or gatherings, even in the grounds.

You are not permitted to reveal the details of this contract or the commission to anyone, except the valet, and only then in an emergency.

You may have one of my surplus carriages for your exclusive use while you are staying here.

You and Madame Tussaud are not to wear perfume, cologne or hair products that contain a scent. I am extremely sensitive to smell and will detect immediately, even on my valet, if he has been in your room then comes to mine.

You may order deliveries of goods needed for your performance and the renovation of the ballroom; however, builders and deliveries must enter and leave through the tunnel, not encroach upon the grounds or the manor or be in sight of the East Wing.

Breakfast is served at 9:00 o’clock, dinner at 3:00 o’clock and supper at 9:00 o’clock. Breakfast will be taken in the breakfast room, but subsequent meals throughout the day are to be taken in the dining room. I dine at my own discretion, but you are asked to maintain these hours; if not, you need to advise the valet so that food is not cooked unnecessarily.

Marie drew in a long breath and saw beads of sweating excitement gathered on Philidor’s forehead. Such a proposition would save their show, their reputation and their money. It would ensure that she could provide everything she needed for her sons Joseph and François, who were completing their education in architecture and humanities at the grandes écoles in Paris. And then she would have enough to start her own show. All the duke asked in return was for them to follow his rules and create for him something akin to what they had already created. Exactly to his specifications this time, but they had already made Antoinette; how difficult could this commission be?

Philidor glanced up at her. She nodded. He scratched the words and slipped the folded paper into the box.

We accept.