Read The Widow's Demise Online

Authors: Don Gutteridge

Tags: #mystery, #history, #politics, #toronto, #widow, #colonial history, #mystery series, #upper canada, #marc edwards, #political affairs

The Widow's Demise (3 page)

“Welcome, gentlemen,” Robert said, beginning
the proceedings. “We’re here to discuss the nomination meeting
tomorrow afternoon in the fourth riding of York, and to discuss the
campaign in general.”

He looked about the room at the seated
gentlemen with some satisfaction. Present were Francis Hincks, Marc
Edwards, Louis LaFontaine and Gilles Gagnon – stalwart associates
all.

“Any news on Lord Sydenham?” Hincks
asked.

“He’s not doing well,” Robert said. “He’s
suffering badly, I’m afraid.”

“What a tragedy,” Louis said.

“For him and for us,” Robert said. “His
proposals on responsible government represent the pinnacle of our
hopes.”

“Lord knows who his replacement will be,”
Hincks said. “With the Tory government of Sir Robert Peel making
the decision.”

“Peel is a traditional Tory?” Louis
asked.

“Very much a reactionary,” Robert said.

“Well, Lord Sydenham’s proposal is still on
the table,” Marc said. “And when we get Louis elected, our
coalition will not merely seem to be a reality, it will be.”

“The current executive can’t last,” Hincks
said.

“And the next administration will be a
LaFontaine-Baldwin one,” Marc said.

“Which brings us to the election,” Robert
said. “The nomination meeting will be held at the site of the poll,
Danby’s Crossing, up north on Yonge Street. Hincks and I will give
nomination speeches, to be followed by your address, Louis.”

“The question before us,” Gagnon said, “is
who will say what and why.”

“I thought I would go into Louis’ background
as a lawyer and an entrepreneur,” Hincks said, “with an emphasis on
the positive role he played before the Rebellion.”

“Do we play down the Rebellion itself.?”
Gagnon said.

“We need to emphasize that he was not a
combatant,” Robert said, “that he supported the political aims of
the revolt and played a significant role in the aftermath, working
to free political prisoners and advising Lord Durham.”

“Many of the people of York were involved in
our rebellion,” Hincks reminded the group. “I don’t think we have
to walk on eggs regarding the revolt itself.”

“But there has been quite a backlash,” Robert
said. “Especially when the Rebellion failed and the reprisals
began. I think we should stress the positive and focus on the
future.”

“You can do that well in your address,” Louis
suggested to Robert..

“Yes,” Robert said. “I’ll do my best. I’ll
outline the nature of our alliance and emphasize the biracial
quality of it. After all, if the united provinces are to succeed,
French and English will have to work together.”

“Well,” Hincks said, “we’re offering the
people a working model.”

“A work-in-progress, eh?” Marc said.

“What will you put in
your
address?”
Robert said to Louis.

“Gilles?” Louis said, turning to his
secretary and good friend.

“Louis will talk about his people, the
reasons for their discontent, his struggle with them when they
first viewed his discussions with the English as a form of treason,
and how he has won many of them over and got them willing to invest
in a possible future; that is, in this parliamentary experiment. He
will also talk about the violence in his defeat in Terrebonne, and
the depth of the opposition there in some quarters in Quebec. He
will offer the voters of York the opportunity to be part of a
brave, new future.”

Gagnon spoke in French, not trusting his
English.

“I will also speak of our hopes for
responsible government, for without it our experiment will not
succeed,” Louis said in English.

“Very good,” Robert said. “We have covered
the territory, I believe.”

“Anything to add?” Hincks said.

“Yes,” Marc said. “I think we should not
dwell on certain planks in our platform: like our commitment to
move the Legislature from Kingston to Montreal. Or our plans to put
forward a Rebellion Losses Bill.”

“Agreed,” Robert said. “Those measures are
not set in concrete anyway.”

The butler arrived at this point with coffee
and cakes. When these were served, Robert addressed the group once
more. “Our second item of business is the campaign itself. The poll
at Danby’s Crossing will be open for two weeks. The hustings will
remain there throughout that period.”

“I suggest we look at the tally at the end of
the first week and organize another meeting there,” Hincks said.
“And of course my paper will be thundering away on our side.”

“We need to bring in the reluctant voters,”
Marc said.

“But what if the opposition has its goon
squads about the polling area?” Robert said. “We could be inviting
violence with another meeting.”

“Could we not meet with Dingman’s manager and
work out some peaceful ground rules?” Louis suggested.

“We tried that in Terrebonne, remember?”
Gagnon said.

Louis grimaced.

“But this isn’t Terrebonne,” Robert said.
“Passions are not enflamed here.”

“They may be,” Hincks said. He pulled out a
newspaper clipping. “I take it none of you has seen this screed in
the
Gazette
?”

“No. What is it?” Robert said.

“I’ll read it out loud,” Hincks said, and
began:

 

 

Dear Reader:

 

I am writing this more in sorrow than in anger, but
it is something that has to be spoken aloud, before it is too late.
As you may have heard by now, in the upcoming by-election in the
fourth riding of York, the candidate opposing Mr. Dingman and
running for the Reform party is one Louis LaFontaine. The most
pertinent aspect of this circumstance is that Mr. LaFontaine is a
Frenchman from Montreal. What is a Frenchman doing running for
office in an English-speaking community? Are we expected to learn
his gibberish in order to understand what he may have to say?

And what a Frenchman he is! The man is no
ordinary citizen. He is a former rebel and an incendiary. He
stumped his misbegotten province last year denouncing the terms of
the Union Act and demanding impossible rights for a people who took
up arms against Her Majesty and all that she stands for. He spoke
on behalf of these wretched rebels, and after they were justifiably
defeated, he worked his lawyer’s wiles to get them out of prison,
where they belonged. He is now the self-styled leader of a radical
French faction, the
rouge
party. Using all of his French
cunning, he has succeeded in pulling the wool over the eyes of such
staunch Upper Canadians as Robert Baldwin, pretending to be a
partner in a coalition made in Hell, that is until he has managed
to get a foothold in our new Legislature, after which he will do
nothing but promote the interests of Quebec and Catholics and the
French tongue – to the detriment of all loyal English citizens of
Canada West. So persuasive has he been that Mr. Baldwin has
relinquished his seat in York in order to pacify the excessive
demands of LaFontaine and his French fanatics.

Citizens beware!

 

Yours faithfully,

Humphrey Cardiff, Attorney-

General for Canada West.

 

“My God,” Robert said. “That confirms our worst
fears.”

“Cardiff is managing Arthur Dingman’s Tory
campaign,” Marc pointed out. “He’s abusing his cabinet post
big-time.”

“This will certainly influence the local
people,” Gagnon said.

Louis sighed. “We may have another Terrebonne
on our hands.”

“I think we should meet with Humphrey
Cardiff,” Marc said. “What harm can it do?”

“I agree,” said Robert. “Why don’t Marc,
Gilles and I go and see him today or tomorrow?”

“After all,” Hincks said with a wry smile,
“the fellow is the chief lawman in the province.”

“And a Tory,” Robert sighed.

***

Lionel Truman had a great deal to offer any woman
considering marriage. First of all he was a respectable gentleman.
His job at the customs house brought him prestige and a steady
income, and required little effort on his part. This left him lots
of time to pursue gentlemanly activities. Secondly, he was by all
objective accounts handsome and personable. His principal drawback,
as he himself saw it, was that he was not rich, not even well off
by local standards. He lived in modest rental quarters on north
George Street, and his suit was no more than a year out of fashion.
But, serendipitously, the lady in his sights just happened to be
wealthy herself, having inherited her first husband’s fortune. They
would make the perfect match. Unfortunately the lady was being
particularly coy, pretending to resist his blandishments and
keeping her passion for him well in check. But time was on his
side; his pursuit was dogged, and would bear fruit.

As he neared Rosewood, he began to whistle.
The auguries were all positive today. Delores had answered his note
this morning right away, agreeing to a carriage-ride into the
countryside. What is more, she would provide the carriage, as her
suitor did not have one. Again, the arrangement seemed appropriate
and just to Trueman. As he came up to the front door, he noticed
that her splendid surrey and its two horses were standing nearby in
the care of a young groom with a pock-marked face.

“Good morning, sir,” the groom said. “Madame
is waiting in the foyer.”

Trueman nodded slightly and went up to the
bell-pull. He adjusted his hat and gave the pull a gentle tug.

A black-suited butler immediately opened the
door.

“Good morning, sir,” he said, giving Trueman
the onceover.

“I am here to see Mrs. Cardiff-Jones,”
Trueman said. “She’s expecting me.”

“Of course. I’ll fetch madam for you.” He
turned to his mistress, who was standing only two steps behind him.
“Mr. Trueman for you, madam.”

“Thank you, Diggs. That will be all.”

Delores stepped forward and gave Trueman a
broad smile.

“Good morning, Delores. You look
stunning.”

“Thank you, Lionel. You are most king.”

“I see you’ve got the surrey ready for
us.”

“Yes. And you’ll drive?”

“I’d be delighted to.”

“That way we can be alone,” Delores said,
taking Trueman’s hand and stepping down off the porch.

“My very thought.”

Trueman led Delores towards the surrey. The
groom was holding the horses, and watched as Trueman helped Delores
up into the front seat of the vehicle, then sat down beside her.
The groom handed him the reins.

“Which way?” Trueman said.

“Let’s drive up College Avenue to Queen’s
Park,” Delores suggested.

“Splendid idea.”

College Avenue ran north off Queen Street. It
was a broad thoroughfare, lined on either side by rows of maple
trees, some of which had just begun to turn colour. When they came
to the park, Trueman pulled the carriage over to the side of the
road and wrapped the reins around the post.

“What a beautiful place to stop,” Delores
said.

“Yes, it’s a glorious morning. And only
fitting for a woman as beautiful as you.”

“Lionel, you mustn’t say things like
that.”

He leaned over towards her. “I was raised to
tell the truth,” he whispered.

“I am immune to flattery.”

“Are you immune to
this
?” He kissed
her lightly on the cheek, while his right hand moved around her
waist and drew her slowly towards him. He felt little
resistance.

“Oh, Lionel, you mustn’t – ”

He kissed her on the lips, which parted
slightly at the pressure on them. She reached around and cupped the
back of his head. Her mouth opened. He could feel her stays sharp
against his chest. It was he who had to come up for air.

“I adore you,” he said, gazing into her
eyes.

“You are a very determined man,” she said,
straightening her dress.

“And you have strong feelings for me, do you
not?”

“I like you very much, Lionel. We enjoy each
other’s company.”

“I want it to be more than that.”

“I know.”

“I need you to say you’ll be my wife.”

“Oh, Lionel, don’t go and spoil things. You
know I’m not ready for marriage yet. I’m looking only for
companionship.”

“That kiss wasn’t mere companionship,” he
protested.

“No, perhaps not. I shouldn’t have let things
go that far.”

“But you did. And you enjoyed it.”

“That doesn’t make me your partner in
matrimony. I’m sorry.”

“Please tell me you’ll at least consider my
proposal. I can wait for your answer for as long as it takes.”

“All right. I can do that much. But I’m not
holding out much hope.”

“There’s somebody else, isn’t there?” he said
sharply.

“’Well, I do entertain other gentlemen from
time to time. I like the company of men.”

“Macy?”

Delores reddened slightly. “Horace Macy comes
to see me once in a while.”

“And do you let him kiss you?”

“There’s no need to take that tone, Lionel.
He’s just a friend.”

“And that, apparently is all I am.”

“Now, please, don’t sulk, darling. It
doesn’t’ suit you.”

“How can you see other men and consider my
proposal at the same time?”

“Lionel, you know I don’t like jealous
men.”

“I saw you dancing with that failed chemist
last night.”

“I was the hostess. I danced with a dozen
men, including you.”

“I won’t be thought of as one of your dozen.
I love you. I have behaved honourably.”

“Of course you have. There’s no need to get
so worked up about these things.” She leaned over and kissed him on
the cheek.

He sighed. “I want you to promise not to
entertain any more men until you give me an answer to my proposal
of marriage.”

Delores smiled and patted the back of his
hands. “All right, if it will make you happy and not spoil an
otherwise splendid morning in the country.”

Other books

Golden by Jessi Kirby
Don’t Ever Wonder by Darren Coleman
Mine to Take by Alexa Kaye
Rory & Ita by Roddy Doyle
Death Sentence by Sheryl Browne
Creepy and Maud by Dianne Touchell
Studs: Gay Erotic Fiction by Emanuel Xavier Richard Labonté


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024