Chapter 6 ,  continued

April 6, 1816

"Aunt Serena is absolutely correct. This evening gown is a work of art," Marleigh murmured to herself.

The willow green satin was the over-skirt, sleeves and bodice. It was softly gathered in the empire fashion falling into long scallops edged with rich dark green and golden amber threads. The underskirt was eight inches of fine soft cream-colored Belgium lace. The edging around the deep neckline and bodice was a repeat of the dark green and golden amber threads, matching Marleigh's hazel green eyes perfectly. A translucent silk organdy of amber, slightly gathered, turned the revealing daring plunge to a modestly enveloped damsel. The sleeves ended in a slender single row of cream-colored lace just peeking out below the dark green and amber gold edging.

Marleigh wore a simple dark green velvet ribbon with a stunning cameo brooch in cream and amber at her throat. Her mother had given her the cameo. It was her favorite piece of jewelry. She felt very well dressed this evening. She had to admit, it was fun having a steamy hot bath, oiling her entire body, having her nails attended, while another maid lightly dusted her face and shoulders, gave a bit of shaping to her eyebrows and the barest hint of color on her cheeks and lips. Her new personal maid, Babette, coiffed her hair in a huge twist with wisps of curls around her face and neck. The maid adjusted the mirror so she could see her entire reflection. She hardly recognized herself. The dress was gorgeous. She looked stunning in it . The maids were excited to see her reaction.                                                               

"My Heavens! I look wonderful!"

Looking over each shoulder, turning and twisting, she was suddenly filled with energy. Thanking her maids, she stepped carefully down the stairs. Confident she had never looked as radiant, she breezed into the front parlor.

*****

This was Marleigh's third evening event. Standing to the side of a large potted palm Marleigh overheard two men talking about the possibility of her cousin bringing charges against her father for treason.

She walked around the palm and joined the conversation, asking questions and making comments about Robert Mandeville having tried to get a title through rumor once before, "Didn't he?"  

"Didn't you just arrive in England? How do you know so much about Mandeville?"

"He is my third cousin. Normally, I would rally around a relative, but -"

"But your Father is the one he is saying committed treason!"

"Yes. I am Marleigh Barrett. I know our shipping company has paid all British taxes that are due. The tax people know exactly what we do and whom we do it for and they have never complained. And we have constantly moved men and supplies up and down the coast for the British navy, when needed. You will note that Mandeville has never spent any effort increasing the British tax revenue, nor soldiering for the Kingdom. He has done nothing for our nation yet HE, not the war office, not Parliament, brings these vicious accusations against my father. His motivation is clear: He will do or say anything to acquire money and a title he didn’t earn or come by through rightful inheritance."

She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "In fact, it is my understanding that Mandeville was there at the Christmas dinner with my two uncles, who surprisingly were both poisoned, according to the coroner. But not Mandeville. No.  I was told that he expressed his concern about James to Allen at breakfast. Mandeville advised against calling the doctor but Allen thought he should. Allen got up from the breakfast table and fell on the floor himself, unconscious. I was told Mandeville argued with the butler over calling for medical help. Once a footman was sent to fetch the local doctor, Mandeville left immediately.  Yes, he was fine. Ate the same food as they did, but wasn't sick for even a minute."                                                       

Their eyes got bigger and the older gentleman asked, "You're saying he poi -"

"I am saying - for optimum health, do not dine or break a fast with Robert Mandeville!"

She excused herself, feeling confident that Robert Mandeville was not the only one who could influence people through rumor and gossip.

 Gossip! It wasn't really gossip. I have all my facts straight. This is News- facts, figures, time and place. Maybe I should make regular rounds behind each of the palms!

                                      ****************

Chapter 6

As Guests of Aunt Serena                  

March 28, 1816

Marleigh, her mouth full, groaned with contentment over Aunt Serena's favorite cold weather luncheon. The toasted cheese and ham sandwiches with tart mustard were perfect with several thin slices of ham and cheddar cheese oozing out the sides with a steaming cup of cream of tomato soup. The hot chocolate was a wonderful bonus, sweet and dark!

"Mmmmm, Aunt Serena, this is wonderful! I was so chilled from this morning's shopping! I did not think I would be warm again until I could get under bedcovers! This is perfect, Aunt Serena!

Serena Redmane Beauford smiled delightedly at her niece. "I am not surprised! This lunch was always the favorite of your Mother and myself on days when we had been outside sledding or ice skating. We would come inside frozen as little ice cycles! This always thawed us out."

"Mmmm, delicious!  Leaning back in her seat she was in a state of complete satisfaction, except for one thing, she missed her daily rides. Of course, her favorite companion, Lightening, was back in Boston. She was sure she could find a horse here that would do for at least a daily ride.

"Aunt Serena, I need a horse. After nearly six weeks aboard a ship, I am desperate to get some exercise. I have been walking this week, but I am more than ready to jump on the back of a large beast and fly down a bridle path. I used to ride about six miles or so every morning. Where could I rent a horse? Or maybe I should buy one…"

"My Sweet Niece, you are welcome to use any of our horses. Henry rides his horse, Matilda to his Parliament every day, but any of the other horses are at your disposal. In fact, you could take my Jake. He is liable to be a handful since I have not exercised him in several days. The grooms ride him about daily, but just a mile or so. He really needs to stretch his legs, or there is Lamb Chop - she is such a sweet thing but oh my, does she love to run! We do have a very sedate horse as well, MilkWeed. She is older, very well-trained, you can drop the reins when you get off and she will stay right where you left her."

"Thank you, Aunt Serena, I think I will choose one for an early-morning ride tomorrow. What do you have on our calendar for this week?"  

The first event we will attend is tomorrow evening. I am sure Madam Levansou will have the pale pink dress ready as she promised. It is a musical soirée at my friend, Charles Hanson's, Thursday is a birthday party for Lord Nevers, Friday is the theatre and Saturday is the "Welcoming Spring" party for Priscilla Dunbar. We need to think about a future date for your coming-out party!"

"I don't think I will want a coming-out party Aunt Serena."

"Nonsense! You are a beautiful young lady, Your Father will shortly will have a title, he is wealthy, and I understand from your father, you are wealthy in your own right, being half owner of Barrett Shipping!

Leaning forward, her aunt half whispered, "Tell me, Marleigh, how was it working with men all day? That is so exciting! I can't wait to tell my friends in the Women's movement!" Without stopping for a breath, Aunt Serena continued. "My dear, you are beautiful - a glamorous young lady with an American accent. You have led an interesting life working with men, not just working with men, but also, being their employer! That is far more fascinating than our English girls are! You will have your pick of the Ton once we get you presented.

"Unfortunately, we can't get you on the list to be presented at court until your father is cleared of the charges Mandeville has spread throughout the Kingdom. Then he will receive his Writ of Summons by parliament where they will confirm his inheritance of the title. Once that is completed, they'll be after you in droves.

"This Saturday's party is at Lord and Lady Dunbar's. They have two sons you may be interested in meeting. They are in their mid twenty's and their daughter, Priscilla is 19. This is her second year." 

"Second year? Is she in college?"    

"College? No. My dear, I only know one young lady of the Ton who went to College. She was a mathematics wonder I was told. No, I mean it is her second year of The Season. Since this is your first year in England, and close to the end of the Season, no one will expect you to do more than peruse the available men. Of course, if you should find a suitable partner, so much the better!"

"Aunt Serena, I really have no interest in this matchmaking method. It seems very strange to me. In America - the colonies, we meet men anywhere - everywhere! If you like him, you spend time with him. If you don't, you find someone else."

"Well, that same idea is employed here, too. We just use the party form of meeting. That way your family can meet him, as his family can meet you."

"Mmmm, I suppose."

Marleigh was not going to argue with her aunt. Yet, she was dreading the whole concept.  She really had not even thought about getting married. Intuitively, she decided to treat this upcoming evening as a simple opportunity to get to know a few people in England. Certain that she was returning to America, even looking for a prospective husband, seemed a complete waste of time to Marleigh. In order to not think of it as a waste of time, Marleigh decided she would give a mental label to the exercise as "What I Don't Want in a Man".

Yes, that seems appropriate. Marleigh smiled at her aunt feeling much better about her silent decision. 'Confidence and attitude is everything', that's what my old governess used to say!

Aunt Serena continued on, "Your dress is going to be lovely. Madame Levansou really was thrilled to have a genuine American to dress."

Marleigh laughed.

"I think she was more thrilled to hear I needed eight new day dresses, two evening gowns, a ball gown and all new under clothes, than having an American to dress."

"Certainly the prospect of a new client needing a large wardrobe has got to be exciting for a woman who works as hard as Madame Levansou. Her family escaped the guillotine and she has had a difficult time of it until she began her fashion shop. Her creations are exquisite."

***********

The next morning was still chilly.

The rising March sun breached the horizon and slowly began the climb toward the zenith of heavenly blue skies. The sun held the promise of another spring day. A day so glorious, it was as though a chorus of angels were bringing the warmth of a gentle sun to the earth. Those tender rays brought forth the early blossoming trees of blackthorn and wild cherry. The warmed earth then sprang to life with crocus, daffodils and tulips.

Marleigh paused in the splendid spring garden as she approached the Carriage house. Inhaling the fresh vernal air filled with the soft sent of blooms, she thanked Mother Nature for her bounty on earth and the artistry of few soft lazy clouds slowly traveling across the ceiling of heaven. This was the beginning of a perfect day.

"Here you are, Lady Marleigh. Jake is ready to go!" The tall black horse was dancing with anticipation. Marleigh spoke to the horse, offering some carrot sticks she had purloined from the vegetable tray the night before.  As she ran her hands over his mane, she noticed the saddle.

"Adam, is there a regular saddle available?"   

"Miss?"

"A man's saddle?"

"Certainly, Lady Marleigh, but Lady Serena won't mind you using her side saddle."

Marleigh nodded to Adam, with a radiant smile, "I'm sure your right, but I prefer to ride astride."

Adam's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You know how to ride with a man's saddle, Miss?"

"Absolutely. My parents tried to get me to use a sidesaddle. And I did - at first. But, one day, I climbed on my father's horse. That's all it took. I realized how much easier it was to use and I have ridden astride ever since."

Adam linked his fingers together to give her a step up. "You're sure Lady Serena won't mind you going alone?"

"Don't worry. I always ride alone in Boston."

"Aye, Lady Marleigh, but this is London! What if you lose your way?"

It's only seven streets over to the park. If I get lost, I'll ask a shop keeper.

Jake was ready to run. She waved goodbye to Adam as she urged Jake ahead. He eagerly kept to a brisk trot until they were into the park. Marleigh was pleased he was such an energetic horse. Since there was not a soul around, she allowed him to canter down the path. When they came to a wide-open field where the spring grasses were just a few inches high, it seemed the perfect place for an all-out gallop. Jake only required a small nudge and he was flying.

Eventually, the open field gave way to the bridle path once again. Marleigh hunched forward over Jake as they tore down the path. They galloped past another rider joining the bridle path from the right. He shouted an angry exclamation. Had they met a few seconds later, they would have collided. 

Marleigh reined-in Jake a bit, realizing it could be as dangerous for him as much as her. The joy of freedom should never come in second to common sense. Galloping down a narrow bridle path was reckless.  She turned him left toward the field again so he could run a bit more. Keeping to the south side of the long field, she slowed Jake, aiming for a small stand of trees and a nearby carpet of yellow and purple crocus. She patted his neck and cooed at him for being such a wonderful ride while jumping down and loosely tying his reins to a low tree limb. Leaving him to graze and catch his breath, she laid beneath the tree.

 A few moments later she heard a thump and a man muttering, "I knew it, I knew it!" Her eyes flew open when she felt hands gripping first her arms, then shifting to her legs.

"Stop! Stop that!" Her arms and legs pushed against a hard body that persisted in leaning over her. "Stop it this instant!" Marleigh shouted, as the hands grasp her head and tried to turn it and lift her head up. Picking up her crop laying beside her in the grass, she walloped the man twice on the right side of his back.

"Owww, stop, I am here to help you!"

"Help me? Help me out of my clothes?"

"What? No! You must have injured your head. Not a surprise - after that thundering near collision on the bridle path." He gently laid her head down, looking into her eyes.

Marleigh drew in a sharp breath, stunned at the beautiful human leaning over her. She stared in complete silence. He had bright blue expressive eyes with thick dark eyebrows yet blond hair in large curls, the most beautifully sensuous lips and a perfect roman nose. As he leaned back, she realized he was close in age to her and the most blessedly handsome man she had ever seen.

"Your eyes are clear. Can you sit up?" He slipped a hand under her shoulder to help her to sit.

 She considered playing along with the idea she had injured herself, but she simply could never present herself as a poor rider.

"I am fine.  I don't fall off horses." She noticed how well his wide shoulders filled the deep brown velvet coat. His sun-streaked blonde hair was in sharp contrast to the rich brown of his coat.

"No, I'm sure you don't, except for this one." 

"I did not fall. I was letting my horse rest."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. Such a skeptical expression on such a beautiful face made her laugh. She waved her hand at her horse.

"Jake is tied to that limb. Usually one does not have the time to tie the horse before falling off."

His eyes followed her hand gesture. Surrendering to the obvious truth, he sat down in the grass with her. "Well, I should have packed some breakfast, we could have had a picnic!"

"Let's give the horses a gallop around the field and then we can go to my Aunt's for breakfast."

The Adonis stood and brushed off his buckskin breeches and coattails. "I doubt your Aunt would approve of asking a stranger to breakfast."

"Most assuredly she would! You came to my aid, or at least thought you had! She is most anxious for me to meet new people." Marleigh offered her hand to introduce herself, but Adonis thought she wanted to be helped up and he pulled her to her feet abruptly.

Marleigh laughed again and without releasing his hand said, "Marleigh Barrett, equestrian."

The Adonis replied with a generous smile, "Alexander Hugh Fitzroy, Marquess."

After an exuberant gallop around the field, they slowed their steeds and walked their horses the few blocks to the home of Serena Beauford.

They came from the stables through the garden into the Library. It was early yet, so Marleigh rang for the butler.

"Hayes, has breakfast been served yet?"

"No, Lady Marleigh. But we can make something for you and your - companion."

"Excellent, I'd like some of those wonderful muffins the cook makes, with bacon. Oh! And scrambled eggs with cheese in it! And tea. And hot chocolate."

" Alex? What would you like?"

"The very same would be perfect!"

"Very good, Lady Marleigh."

"Hayes, please direct Marquess … Marquess - it isn't Fitzroy, is it?"

"No, Rotherfield."

"Direct Marquess Rotherfield to a bedroom to wash up before breakfast. We're a bit horsey after our ride."

"Of course, Lady Marleigh."       

"See you at the breakfast table." Marleigh left the Adonis in Hayes' capable hands. Within half an hour, both were serving themselves from the sideboard.    

Not more than five minutes later, Lady Chelmsford joined them.

"Aunt Serena!" I hope I didn't wake you!" 

The Adonis stood up as she entered the room.

"Not at all. I usually read in the mornings before breakfast, but I was hungry this morning. Please, introduce me to your friend."

"Aunt Serena, this is Marquess Rotherfield. Marquess, this is my aunt, Lady Clemsford."

"How wonderful to meet a friend of my niece. Please sit, I am going to help myself to a plate."

While she was at the sideboard, the Marquess was silently miming "I should go" to Marleigh. She shook her head "NO!"

"How did you come to meet my niece?"

"Well, I thought she had been thrown from her horse and was laying injured on the ground."

"Oh my!" She turned to her niece and looked her up and down. "You look fine."

"I am fine."

"Yes, it was a false alarm on my part. She was just resting, but I thought the worst."

"What would make you think she had been thrown?"

"I glimpsed her earlier and - well, she is quite the equestrian!"

" Was Jake too much for you? Did he get away from you?"

"No! I am an excellent rider. No, the truth is Lord Rotherfield is being a gentleman. Jake and I were having a wonderful time galloping along the field. When we got to the narrow bridle path, I thought we were still alone and I continued to gallop. I passed close to Lord Rotherfield along the bridle path. Startled him, I think. When he saw me about 10 minutes later, he assumed from my reckless behavior that I must have been thrown."

"That was reckless behavior. I am glad you recognize the danger you put Jake and yourself in when riding fast along a narrow path."

" I know. I'm very sorry. I will stick to the field to gallop."

"Well, Marleigh, I know if I could ask Jake, he would say he had a fine morning." Lady Beauford turned to Lord Rotherfield. "Are you planning to attend the Dunbar's party on Saturday, Lord Rotherfield?"

"Yes, I am looking forward to seeing a few old friends. The Hendleys and Springermans, especially. I attended Eton with their sons."

"I don't believe I saw you at last year's Season."

"No, we stayed at our country house last year. In fact, I am only here for the Easter festivities and then I return to my estate for the spring lambing."

"Will you be returning?"

"Briefly, I expect I will escort my family to the seaside for the summer months.

"Have you met our Saturday evening host's daughter, Priscilla Dunbar? She is a lovely young lady."

"No, I haven't. I hope that I may count on Lady Marleigh to introduce me to her."

"I have not met her as yet, myself." I just arrived in England last week."

********

By Friday, Marleigh had visited at least six of her Aunt's friends. They all had daughters or young men who would be at the Saturday night soirée. Most of the daughters she met during the tea and a few of the young men.

Since she had labeled this as an information-gathering event, so far she thought it would be a modestly entertaining evening. In general, the young men were like puppies. Foolish and disinterested in anything except teasing each other and talking about today's fashion, gambling and horses.

Marleigh mentioned to her aunt she may want to leave earlier. Aunt Serena called her fear of boredom "nonsense" and then confided that she rarely stayed after 2 am these days. That was a bit of comfort to Marleigh.

Still, she thought with a sigh, it will be a long night.

Chapter 5

Wednesday, March 21, 1816
London

The Seawitch made a fast run across the Atlantic in the middle of winter. The Captain deposited his passengers as promised safely and a generous week before the end of March.

"Mr. Rand. Take two men and quietly follow Mr. Barrett to his destination. He is under some threat and I want to make sure he arrives home safe." Captain Whitman handed Rand some a few coins."Take a hack if you need to, and once you have seen them safe inside, report back to me."

Mr. Rand was surprised to spy two men watching the Barretts. They mounted horses and followed behind the Barrett's hired coach. The three sailors followed by hack. When traffic slowed to a standstill, Mr. Rand gave the signal to take the horsemen down. Hauled off their saddles, the two men were "detained" down a small alley. Questioning them separately revealed some bloke gave them a shilling a day to wait around all this week for a ship that delivers two passengers: an older man and young lady. They were to report, when they arrived and where they go, to a solicitor's office on Lombard Street.

Mr. Rand sent back a man on one of the horses with the information to the captain. The Captain returned on the horse. He persuaded the messengers to divulge the name of the solicitor and informed the two men the solicitor did not trust them and had his men watching, too. And he would inform the solicitor. The Captain gave them half of what they were owed and sent them on their way.

"Mr. Rand take your crew to the solicitor's office and make the sure horsemen do not show up there and contact that solicitor.

*****

Once inside Aunt Serena's London home, after hugs and introductions to cousins and nephews, and cups of hot tea, William requested a place where he could write a note.

They were shown to the small parlor, where they could talk in private and relax. While Marleigh warmed her feet by the fire, William wrote a note for the footman to deliver to Solicitor Simms office asking for an appointment at 9 o'clock the next morning.

Will heard the butler answer the front door. Curiosity got the better of him and he leaned his head out of the study to see Captain Whitman. Will gave a nod to the butler and greeted the Captain.

"Captain Whitman! What brings you here?"

"You were being followed from the dock. I had Mr. Rand watching. We caught the two men, questioned them. They claim a Solicitor named Wilcox from Lombard Street had hired them to watch for you and Miss Marleigh at the docks all week. They were to follow you and then report when you arrived and where you went. We made them believe the solicitor had hired us as well. We paid them off. I have Mr. Rand's crew watching the solicitor's office to make sure they do not return.

"Mr. Barrett, Mr. Simms told me a bit about the problem. It seems quite clear someone has something unpleasant in mind. How about I station four of my men to guard here tonight? They can prowl around the first floor making sure nothing is amiss."

William looked back in the office toward Marleigh and nodded his head. "Yes. Thank you, Captain. My sister-in-law and her family should not bear the brunt of any of my problems. It has been more than twenty years since I have been in London. I had not expected unwelcome company from the first moment of our arrival."

Chapter 4

Winter, Mid February, 1816
Boston, Massachusetts

The sailor's eyes roamed the ceilings and walls of the foyer as he followed the butler to the ornate doors. The butler indicated the sailor was to wait until he was announced before entering the library.

"Sir, the first mate of The Seawitch to see you, a Mr. Rand."

Mr. Rand stood just inside the library doors and bobbed his head while twisting his cap in his large raw, red hands. 

"Please excuse the lateness of the hour, Sir. Cap'n said I was tah deliver this message tah ya personally, with all 'aste.  'Cause of the gentleman who writ it.  'e came to the London docks and give it to the Cap'n his-self, sir. Cap'n said, it was 'very important'." Rand took a long step forward and held out the letter.

"Yes. Thank you, Mr. Rand."

"Antony, get several coins for Mr. Rand, please. Show Mr. Rand to the kitchen and have Cook warm up some supper for him."

"Thank you. Thank you, kindly, sir!"

The letter, addressed to William was from the family solicitor, Lowell Simms. William broke the seal and unfolded the foolscap.

December 30, 1815

Dear William:

I write this Missive with great Sadness. It is my painful Duty to inform you of the passing of your Brothers, James and Allen Barrett. Both contracted an Illness and succumbed to the Infirmity within twenty-four Hours of the other.

The words became a teary haze as he lowered the letter. He sat motionless as he recalled growing up with the two young hellions, full of wag and varlet, always ready for an adventure. Tear trails slowly made their way down his cheeks, dripping on the letter.

How they teased him for being quiet and bookish. Always trying to pull him into their fun, then when it went sideways their longer legs carried them away faster, leaving him to face the music. He smiled at that childhood remembrance and wiped away a tear.

His brain flooded with memories of his brothers. Memories of youth: recklessness mixed with bravado, ability seeking experience, scamps on the hunt for excitement.

William's eye fell to the letter once again and he continued to read.

I spoke with Dr. Wentworth. He is unable to explain their Illness and suggested an Inquest. I have made an Appointment with the local Constable to demand the same.

         

William Dewhurst Farthingale Barrett, at 56 years of Age, the third, youngest and only remaining Son of James Alexander Farthingale Barrett, 4^th Earl of Hampstead, and brother of first born son, James Henry Alexander Farthingale Barrett, 5^th Earl of Hampstead and brother of Allen Godwin Farthingale Barrett, 6^th Earl of Hampstead, you are the legal Claimant to all Titles, Lands, Monies, Privileges and Encumbrances as the 7^th Earl of Hampstead.

I advise you to return to England immediately in order to Claim your Title, refute the Allegations of your Cousin, and Focus on much needed immediate Attention to Estate Business. It is imperative you Call upon Me as soon as you arrive.

        

Initially, your Cousin Robert made inquiries into Inheritance Rights, if any Accidents should befall you. Now he has initiated Legal Maneuvers for Conservatorship of the Estate, as well as bringing possible Charges of Treason against you due to the Shipping of Goods up and down the American coast during the War.

He has also claimed that you informed him long ago that you "Would never return to this retched Country."

Of course, you realize he must persuade Parliament to bend the Rules of Progeny for him to Inherit. As the nearest male Heir, he could (and I believe, zealously will) apply for the title et al, if he can Prove the Charges or at least create Doubt of your Patriotism.

Bring any Documents and Letters of Recommendation from the British in America with which you do Business and pay Taxes, anything that will prove your Business is legitimately working under the Knowledge and Cooperation of the British Navy.

I know the family history of Robert Mandeville. I have left word of the situation for Mr. Lloyd, your family's Man of Business. Everything here should remain sorted through March.

        

I cannot impress upon you too much the Need for Swiftness.
I am Strengthened by the Knowledge you possess several Ships. Select the fastest and return with All Haste and God's Speed.

Be wary as you travel, Mandeville is not to be Trusted.

 I await your arrival.

With Sympathy and Sincere Wishes for your Good Health,

Lowell Simms, Esq.
Solicitor

Post Script:  Your sister-in-law, Lady Chelmsford, has contacted me. She has invited you to stay with her (5 Chesterfield St, Mayfair) as there is only a caretaker at your London residence.

After many silent contemplative moments, William called out to Antony.

"Whisky!"

Antony, having served Mr. Barrett for more than 18 years, was waiting in the hall in anticipation. He stepped in immediately with the decanter and glass on a tray.

"The Glen Garioch, sir."

William nodded his head and gave an appreciative smile at the butler for his perceptiveness. "Thank you, Antony."

I have posted  a segment of Chapter 3, enough for  readers to follow the story line.

Chapter 3

Part 2, London, January 5, 1816          

Robert Mandeville and Odell Forester sat in The George Inn together, having found a warm fire on a cold, damp day, plus a bit of dinner and ale while they discussed business.

"I read 'bout their deaths. That liquid I found for you worked well," said Odell quietly.

Robert wiped the foam off his lip and replied, "Didn't have to use it. I tell you, Odell. I felt sorry for those fellows. I seriously doubt that I could have actually poisoned them. They were such likable fellows. They made me feel very welcomed. I was having an attack of guilt when the oldest cousin, James, walks in from the frozen garden holding a double handful of yew berries, plops them in the oatmeal, and stirs them in. He and Allen love oatmeal because the cook makes it with rum syrup.

"I actually said, 'James, are you sure those are fine to eat?'" Robert looked around the tavern making sure no one could hear. "Mind you, I knew they were poisonous, depending on how many you eat, but he had enough to kill six people.

"He said, 'They're cherries, I found a whole host of them on the tall bushes. Imagine that! Cherries for my oatmeal! Have some, Robert!'"

"I tried one more time, 'Are you sure these are cherries? They don’t look like any cherries I've seen.'

"He says, 'Don't worry, what else could they be?' He digs into his last meal. A bit later, Allen comes down, and James tells him, all excited, that he found some cherries for their oatmeal. Allen is just as dumb as his brother is, sees no problem with cherries found on trees in the middle of winter. I asked Allen, 'Do you think these are really cherries?' Allen shrugged and says, 'James knows his berries. He loves them.'

"I felt so sorry for them. I do not know how they have survived so long."

Odell said scornfully, "Imbeciles! Ever-buddy knows yew berries 'r poisonous. Didn't ya say they went tah University?"

"Yes. Well Odell, not everyone graduates at the top of his class! Besides, I think all the drink over the years had diminished their brainpower.

"Luckily, I do not like porridge. After the many thousands of hot porridge breakfasts and cold-stiff porridge dinners we endured on the farm, no-thank-you! I chose eggs and ham.

"Of course, about the time James finished his big bowl he says, ‘OH, I ate more than I thought, my stomach is rebelling!’ He got worse quickly and has the butler help him to bed. Allen thinks nothing of it. He says it was quite common for them to have bouts of 'fatigue.'

"Before long, Allen started groaning and passed out on the floor. I know it is the berries, but, well, I was there to poison them. I did try to tell them, but they simply would not listen to any cautions I gave.

"I realize now, murder is not for me. I simply cannot deliberately kill someone I know personally. If I was defending myself, and it was necessary, him or me, I suppose I could.

"I figured they were already on their way out, so I suggest to the butler that they had drunk a lot last night and perhaps it is coming back to haunt them, no need of a doctor. I still feel guilty of that advice. I knew the truth of it.

"Damned if I wasn't torn. I was disturbed they were so ill, but happy things were falling into place for me. It fit my original plan for them and yet was not of my doing.

"I had intended to leave that morning - Boxing Day and all. I went to see each of them. Told them I was sorry to see they were ill, and that I'd see them in the spring for the horse races. I rather hoped they would both recover."

Robert looked around again to make sure no one was listening, "I left as soon as I could, because I still had the vial of poison you gave me in my pocket."

Odell shook his head. "When I read they had both died, I assumed you had done it."

"No. I never lifted a finger against them. They were very affable, as cousins go. A bit thick, but very pleasant to be around. I would have enjoyed going to the horse races with them.

"I did find I had remembered correctly about a third cousin - a younger brother. He is in the colonies. I rummaged around in the study and found some damning information about him shipping war supplies and other goods, probably to the American troops during the conflict that started in 1812!"

Robert smiled, delighted. "I spoke to a solicitor. He thinks there is a good chance I can gain the Conservatorship of the Estate, quickly. When the third brother, William, returns to England to claim the Earl of Hampstead title, I have a plan in motion for treason charges against him! That will clear the way for my appeal to the title."

Feeling very successful and pleased circumstances were finally falling in his favor, Robert raised his tankard in a toast, "Here's to our next Christmas at Aythorpe Manor."

Chapter 2, Part 2   

November, 1815  -   Boston, Massachusetts

Almost an hour later, Marleigh removed the saddle from Lightening and waved the saddle blanket over his back to cool the stallion down. Drawing a fresh bucket of cool water, she let him drink while she rubbed him down with a cloth, and then curried his coat.

"Miss Marleigh, I swear you are going to get me fired," called out the stable master, as he strode toward her.

"That's absurd! You know Father emphatically believes caring for one's own horse creates a closer bond between horse and rider. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Wallace, you know only Mother objected to my grooming a horse. That, and wearing gloves, which I also have forgone."

She thought about commenting how gloves would have prevented her from using her sling this morning, but decided against mentioning the danger in her solitary ride.

"It's been ten years since her passing, why persist in saying you'll 'get fired' over me taking care of my own horse?" She continued brushing down the big horse while they spoke.

"Why? Because I have nothin' to do, that's why. With just you 'n your father, the only time I have any work is when I clean the stalls, get the carriage ready in the mornin' and put it away in the evenin'. I dream of the day I can earn my wages, again."

"How about one of your famous pig roasts before winter arrives?"

"Well, now I'll be happy to, the day you announce your marrying Thomas Radcliff."

Marleigh rolled her eyes. "I'm thinking about it."

"You've been thinkin' 'bout it for more than two year now. What's the hold up?"

"He doesn't ride, he doesn't fence, he doesn't shoot, and he doesn't work. His idea of a hard day is spending more than half an hour at his tailor's shop. He can be amusing, and he is a good dance partner, but that is not my notion of an ideal man, much less husband material.

"Besides, there is something not right. If he were truly interested in me, you would think he would call on me at home, occasionally. He seems to have no actual desire to spend time with me. I just realized - he is using me as a convenient partner- so he can play cards and attend parties, but not be considered 'available.'

"Well, thanks for our little talk, Wallace. That cleared things up for me. I'm done with Thomas Radcliff." She put the curry brushes in the tack room as Wallace followed her.

"Don't you thank me; I don't have nothin' ta do with yer courtin'. Ya think yer father is gonna be happy about this?"

"Actually, he will be ecstatic. He never cared for Radcliff."

"Oh, well then, s'alright."

Marleigh gave him a bright smile, teasing, "So, I can tell Father you talked me into giving Radcliff the old heave-ho?"

Wallace didn't bother to answer, gave her a pretend frown, shaking his head and grumbling as he walked off, "Don't know why I bother."

From the stables, Marleigh entered the back hall of the house adjacent to the kitchen. She sat on a bench to remove her boots, put on her slippers, and washed her hands at the basin. The persnickety cook, Mrs. Warner, insisted everyone must wash hands when entering her kitchen domain. Marleigh wondered into the kitchen.

"Mrs. Warner, is that the aroma of your famous spice cakes?

"No, it is not. It is your favorite shortbread cookies baking. Sit down, dear. I'll get you some fresh hot tea and the cookies will be ready in a twinkle.

***

William Barrett wondered into his study where his daughter, Marleigh sat in her favorite chair, reading.                           

"What's the news? I take it the Wakefield Cotillion last night was pleasurable? What was the mysterious demonstration they promised?" he asked as he sat down in his own leather club chair.

"It was very nice. The Wakefield's and Mrs. McMasters send their regards. I danced with Thomas several times and a few others. The demonstration was a type of music box; you had to wind it up, and it played an exciting gypsy tune while little figurines of young men and women danced together. They were stunningly well-done miniatures. Most intriguing. A Wakefield relative in Russia sent it.

"Oh, and I decided today, that I am not accepting Thomas Radcliff's proposal."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I just realized he is just not someone I could ever marry. I like him for a friend."

"I won't say that you are wrong. I have never thought he was the man for you."

"I know. In fact, I think perhaps I won't marry at all. That wouldn't destroy any plans you have, would it?"

"Not at all, sweetheart. However, you should reconsider that sentiment."

"Why?"

"Marriage can be a wonderful adventure. Love is very important to personal contentment. And children! You are the best thing your Mother and I ever did. You would be missing a truly amazing experience. You'll make a wonderful Mother, Marleigh."

"Perhaps, but I have yet to meet someone that would make a wonderful father ―or husband. Besides, I enjoy working. I meet lots of men there, but none with whom I'm interested… well, there is Captain Hawthorne." 

"Hawthorne is married!"

"Exactly! All the good ones are already taken."

Copyright: Gloria Goldsmith, July 17, 2016

Preface to the Prologue

Writing a book is much more complicated than expected. The reader sees the final draft, where hopefully all the typos, punctuation and grammatical error are caught. But in between having the idea, putting into words on paper and corrections, sometimes things change.

When I started this story I was an inexperienced writer ― not that I am any sort of expert now, but I have found out some important details about writing that never crossed my mind in the past. Before this book, I have concentrated on short stories, that is to say, I wrote until I was done and they usually were around twelve to seventeen pages. I never tried to write something quite this long before. With length comes the requirement of continuity and putting the details in the correct order for the reader. I have always approached any art by just jumping in the deep end.

Here's a perfect example. I wanted to learn to play the piano. The teachers wanted me to learn and practice scales and fingering first, "then you can learning this nice little ditty." To me, it was like learning chopsticks. BORING! No, I always wanted to learn how to play something far more difficult while I practiced the boring stuff.

I discovered when I decided to create a blog, the original first chapter was all wrong. It was centered on the detail and description of past events - not even the main characters. So, I wrote the current Chapter 1 about our Hero and of course I needed the Heroine- so she became the new Chapter 2. Both chapters are good. Yet, I thought If I picked up a book that started out with these Chapters - would I want to read it? My answer was I might give it a chance, but it doesn't grab me.

So Dear Readers, that is how the Preface was created and why it is placed after Chapter 2. Obviously, when published, it will be in its correct placement.

I am not just giving you an excerpt, as I have done for the other two Chapters, but the entire prologue. This sets the story line, introduces our scoundrel, and some entertainment. It's definitely not boring!

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Prologue                                     Robert Mandeville

November, 1815  -  London

Moonlight shone through the window. It was barely enough light to determine where the bed was positioned. The large mirror over the dresser reflected what few moonbeams softly invaded the aging Countess Zilliken's bedchamber.

It also reflected a dark shape― a man, moving silently from the door toward the dresser and a large jewelry box. Opening the drawers of the box, one by one, he silently scooped out the jewelry in handfuls, depositing them in a sack. He lifted the lid and froze when a sweet melody suddenly started playing.           

"Lawrence? Is that you, Darling? I knew you'd come to me one day!"

Oh ho! The Countess has a lover!

Setting the sack on the dresser, he went swiftly to the bed whispering, "My Darling!" Sitting beside her, gathering her in his arms he smothered her with kisses. The Countess giggled, and then moaned at his insistent lips.

"Oh Lawrence, my own, my Darling ― why are you wearing a mask, Dear?"

"Just to make it more exciting and romantic! I remember what a passionate woman you are! I can't get enough of your kisses." He kissed her neck and nibbled her ear.

How am I going to get out of here?

Throwing the cover back she gushed "And I remember, Lawrence my Darling, how much you love my breasts!"

"Well - I - yes. Yes, I always loved ―"

Countess Zilliken tore open the bodice for her lover, her enormous bosom spilling out.

"For you, Lawrence! No one has ever tantalized them as you have!"

He gave an almost imperceptible shrug and leapt into the fray, licking and tugging, sucking and biting while she moaned, whispering loudly,
"Yes, yes, more, more Darling, more!

"Oh Lawrence, I have waited so long for you! Take me, my own. Take me! Ravish me until I pass out from pleasure."

Without hesitation, 'Lawrence' ripped her nightgown in two and buried himself in her hot little love tunnel. Peppery hot thrusts gave way eventually to slow and deep strokes.

"Yes, yes, I like that. Deep. Oh deeper. More, more please!"

Always eager to indulge a lady, he lifted her legs over his shoulders, his cock sinking to her depths, his fists full of breasts. He pumped deep and fast until she quivered and shook, gasping "Lawrence!" and fell back in la petite mort.     

                                                  ***

"What the hell took you so long?" complained Odell, as he handed Robert Mandeville the reins to his horse.

"She woke up!"

"Oh God, please tell me you didn't ―"

"NO! That's why it took me so long."

"You had to tie her up?"

"No, not exactly. She thought I was someone else."

"Who?"

 Robert sighed. He knew this little adventure would live forever in high tales and outright lies, but Odell was like a brother, so - why not?

"She thought I was 'Lawrence,' her long lost lover."

A look of confusion came over Odell's face. "So you pretended to…. Oh holy Mother of God!  You fucked that sweet old lady - she's ninety if she's a day!" Odell bent over the saddle with laughter, trying hard not to wake the quiet sleeping neighborhood. He burst out with, "Who knew you liked vintage honey pot!"  He continued to gasp for air.

Robert grinned from ear to ear, waiting until Odell was looking in his direction, and deliberately adjusted his bollocks. "Hey listen - she's a go-er! If I get lonely some night, I might just come back."

That performance made Odell collapse with laughter, falling completely off the horse, while Robert playfully shushed him.

                                                           

Two days later, afternoon

Robert Mandeville impatiently drummed his fingers on the side of his beer tankard, and then took a hurried drink. He poked his fingers into a vest pocket to locate his watch but didn't check it. The pub door opened and in walked the lanky Odell. Robert stood and reached out his hand. Odell shook the offered hand and sat down, opening his coat.

"Sorry I'm late. This pub was hard to find." Odell took a minute to survey the public house while Robert called for two fresh tankards. "Why did we come to this side of town?"

"I thought it would be safer to meet somewhere we aren't known and won't return to. How did we do?"

Pretty well, the pearls were almost difficult to get rid of - my agent says they'd be hard to sell because it was such a long strand. He offered forty quid.

I said 'No, I'll take 'em elsewhere' - he jumped back in line, sayin' 'No, no - I'll… I'll find a buyer - you know me.'

'I do, sez I, which is why I am tellin' you the price - Three hundred quid- take it or leave it!' He took it and the rest for another seventy quid." He shoved an envelope across the table to Robert.

Robert moved a small sack toward Odell. "From last night's party. We are never going to get rich this way, Odell."

"Well, maybe ya should hire yer self out as a gigolo. I hear they make good money from older ladies! Hah!"

"The thing is, I'd need a reference, and I can't go to the Countess and ask because she thinks I'm Lawrence."

Mandeville's dry wit made Odell chuckle with amusement. Shaking his head, He said, "I still can't believe you gave it up for the old girl."

"She is a very satisfied customer, as are we with her jewels."

"Yea, how's yer new idea workin'?"

"It's not. I was caught by Kathryn Wetherby last week repeating the rumor I created about her and Crofton. She slapped my face - twice- damn hard!

Apparently, that got back to the Regent, because I was called into the Secretary of War's office last week."

"The Secretary of War! NO! Why?"

Robert nodded his head solemnly. "I was told flatly to stop spreading the rumor about the possibility that Kathryn Wetherby and Crofton killed off her husband so Crofton could have the title. When I protested, he said ― 'Stop the rumor or get shanghaied into the military' to some very unpleasant location. The Regent required I apologize publicly at last night's party ― loud enough so that he could hear me across the room.

"I found out that damnable Crofton has not been in the country the last four years. He's been in France ― translating, or something, for the Regent. How was I to know? We were never close. In fact, I hated his guts when I was a kid. We had a bit of a falling out."

"So that's out? You won't become the Duke?"

"No. Not without killing him. Which would be difficult, I understand he is exceptionally good with pistols, muskets, carbines and swords of all types. Besides, if I got within 50 feet of him he'd leave or require me to leave.

"Nope. No Dukedom for me. However, I have an idea about the other side of my family."

'Your mother's side? They aren't wealthy."

"No, not them. My father's grandmother was a Barrett.

 "Christmas is coming, and I have just enough time. I might be able to get myself invited to Aythorpe Manor where two of the dumbest, most alcohol-ridden titmice live: my cousins James and Allen Barrett. If I can get rid of them, an Earldom could be mine! If I am very skillful, this time next year we could be celebrating at my own estate!"

copyright: 2016 Gloria J Goldsmith