Storiesonline.net
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                              Ellen Trilby
                                by Argon

Copyright© 2005 by Argon


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Description: This is set twenty years after the events in "In the Navy", when the quiet lives of Anthony Carter and his family are disrupted by the arrival of a mysterious shepherdess. Follow the lives of Ellen Carter, née Trilby, of Richard Carter, and their friends and relatives, during the late regency era, and explore foreign countries and cultures with them. History is not necessarily dry!

Codes: MF mf Ff hist tears rom 1st teen cons rape les het oral mastrb pett
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Preface


This is the second serial in the Anthony Carter Universe. It is set almost 20 years after the wedding of Harriet and Anthony. They have grown children now, and Anthony lives the life of a semi-retired officer and squire on his possessions. That peaceful, if somewhat dull, life is turned topsy-turvy by the arrival, one winter morning, of a mysterious shepherdess, Ellen Trilby. Life will never be the same for the Carter's and their only son, Richard.

A lot of the characters from "In the Navy" return, it may help therefore to have read that serial first. There are no ships in this story. It's about growing up and learning what is right and wrong. The sex will come, but later in the serial, so if you are looking for a quick stroke, better try one of the nice short stories on SOL.

There is an attempted rape and a deadly sword fight in this story, but I did not feel that this would merit to add "rape" and "violence" to the category codes.

This is the work of a dilettante; I'm not a professional writer. I try to eliminate typos, but if you still find any, you may keep them. I appreciate feedback from the readers, and I try to answer each substantial message, but I may not always be able to do it right away.

The rights to this story rest with me. Of course, you mustn't use the story and/or the characters to produce any form of audio-visual entertainment without paying obscene amounts of money to me first. The same goes for publishing the story on any commercial or non-commercial distribution medium. That being said, you may download this story, email it to your friends, and print it on paper for your reading, as long as you do not change it and as long as you acknowledge my authorship.

Okay, this is it. I hope you will enjoy this story.



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Chapter 1: The Wandering Shepherdess



Ellen Barlow huddled under the heavy, waterlogged wool coat, her broad-rimmed hat pushed back, and she peered ahead through the sleet rain. A small rivulet of cold water found its way into her collar and down her spine, and she shivered. She felt miserable, cold, and hopeless. There was no way for her to find dry firewood anywhere and no option but to trudge on, setting one tired foot before the other, in the hope of finding a dry shelter.

She had hoped for some reprieve in the village behind her, but the tenants had refused her the permission to graze her sheep, claiming that the damage to their crops would be too great. They told her that the river banks belonged to the squire and that she would have to ask his caretaker to bring her sheep there.

"The Captain runs a tight ship," one of the men had told her, "better not use his land without permission."

The sheep kept together for a change, making her work easier. But the rain had lasted for days, and the soil was waterlogged. Her bare feet squished in the slightly oversized, water-filled shoes, and she sank deep into the mud with each step. She wondered how far the manor would be. In the village they had told her it was just a half hour walk, but in the deep mud she could not make a lot headway. Finally, a group of buildings loomed through the falling rain, and the sight raised her spirits. She walked on until she reached a gatekeeper's lodge.

She knocked on the door and heard the thumping of a peg leg. A one-legged man cracked open the door. Seeing the drenched shepherdess, he considered slamming it shut again. But he was a Navy veteran, and he knew what it was like to be out in the rain in mid-February.

"Wot's yer biz'niss?"

"Please, I am a wandering shepherdess. I would ask for permission to let my herd graze on these lands. I will move on before the sowing starts."

"Not fer me ter decide, lass."

"Is there a caretaker I might ask?"

"Over, at them stables. Go, try yer luck."

The sheep were grazing the sparse green on the wayside. Ellen took a breath and walked over to the stables. Reaching the door, she knocked cautiously. When nobody answered, she opened the door slightly and peeked in. She saw three men, or better two men and a boy of about eighteen, in conversation. With a start, Ellen saw that one of them must be the squire, a tall man in his forties, expensively clothed. She tried to back out again, but the door squeaked, and the men looked up.

"Who is this? Come in and answer!" the squire called, and there was no doubt that he expected to be obeyed.

"Begging your pardon," Ellen said, entering the barn. "I came to ask the caretaker for permission to graze my sheep until the spring starts. I did not mean to bother you, Sir."

"Come closer!"

Hesitantly, Ellen came closer.

"Good Lord, girl! You are positively soaked," the squire exclaimed. "How can you be out in such a weather?"

"It's my living, Sir, begging your pardon."

"Well, Lady Carter shall give me the Lord's wrath if I allow you to camp out in a weather like this. We have a corral for sheep around the back of this barn. It's disused. Bring your sheep in, and then warm up in the maids' quarters. Mr. Brown, see to it that she gets food and a bed! What is your name, girl?"

Ellen took off her hat, revealing a mass of blonde hair framing her pale, heart-shaped face. The boy stared at her. She was accustomed to this reaction, she knew what she looked like, and the boy was pretty himself.

"Ellen Barlow, Sir. May I ask your name, Sir? At the village, they just called you the Captain."

"They still do?," the squire asked with a short chuckle. "I am Rear Admiral Sir Anthony Carter, squire of these lands. This is my son Richard, and this is Mr. Brown, my caretaker."

Ellen bowed to the men, surprised at the friendly reception.

"You can stay here as long as the bad weather lasts, girl. After that, Mr. Brown can show you where to graze your sheep. The river banks would benefit from grazing sheep, wouldn't they, Mr. Brown?"

"Certainly, Sir Anthony," Mr. Brown answered.

"I own over three miles of river banks. You can graze your sheep there as long as you like."

"Thank you, Sir Anthony," Ellen answered politely. "May I tend my animals, now?"

"Certainly, go ahead, but do come in, afterwards," the squire answered.

Ellen bowed again. She noticed that the boy had stared at her the whole time, and she gave him a friendly smile. He gulped for air visibly, and the dimples around her mouth deepened. She quickly turned and went out into the rain again to collect her herd.

Sitting in dry clothes before the fire in the servants' common room, Ellen luxuriated in the warmth. She was sated, too, and she noticed that the servants on this estate were a happy, well-fed group, and fiercely loyal to their employer. She had learned that most of the male servants had served under Sir Anthony in the Great War, and she was told time and again that he was one of the great naval heroes. The women and girls held equal affection for the mistress of the house, something Ellen could appreciate. She had huddled before the fire in her wet clothes, when Lady Carter had entered the room, accompanied by a strawberry blond girl who was the spitting image of her beautiful mother, and loaded with dry clothes and two blankets. She had bade Ellen to undress and wash, and then had her dress in the pre-warmed clothes. They had given her a comb, too, and for the first time in days, Ellen was able to comb the heavy tresses of her long blond hair. Lady Carter looked upon her admiringly.

"You are very pretty, my child," she said appreciatively. She raised her voice. "This girl, Ellen, is my guest. You men leave her alone, d'ye hear!"

Later, the daughter, her name was Eleanor, slipped into the servants' quarters again to bring Ellen a cup of hot chocolate. The hot, sweet drink, the exertions of the day, and the soft, warm bed conspired to send Ellen into the land of dreams as soon as her head came to rest on the pillow they had given her.

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Meanwhile, the son of the squire, Richard Carter had an unruly night. The strange shepherdess' image was etched into his mind. He thought he had never seen a more beautiful girl, he was quite sure of that, in fact. Perhaps except for his sister, Eleanor, of whom young Richard thought the world. But the shepherdess was a girl he could dream of without guilt, and dream of her he did. Three times during the night he had to relieve himself, but still, the image of the girl did not disappear. He woke up tired, confused, and still horny, and that may partly explain the course of events of the following day.

The two sons of a neighbour came over to visit. They were not real friends, but they were his age, and they knew he was home from Eton for a few weeks. Richard could not help but tell them about the exciting and beautiful young shepherdess. They watched her through the window of Richard's room when she ran over the yard, looking after her animals.

"She's a real peach," Joyce Tremont said.

"Worth a tumble, she is," his brother Patrick chimed in. "Why don't we go and meet her?"

"Perhaps she does not want to meet us," Richard said, feeling embarrassed.

"You're the son of the squire, Richard. Of course, she'll want to meet you," Joyce laughed. "What's her choice? She's ripe for plucking!"

"I don't know," Richard stammered.

"What, are you a faggot?" Patrick sneered.

"Of course not!" Richard retorted. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you are so lily-livered! Let's go! She'll like it, they all do, don't they?"

"They all do," Joyce snickered, "at least they say so. But what choice do they have!"

They cajoled Richard downstairs and across the yard towards the stables. They found the girl busy tending the minor wound of one of her sheep, and she looked up calmly and with a friendly smile.

"Good day, Master Richard," she offered.

"It's Master Richard!" Patrick sneered. "I told you, she has it for you. My, she is a peach! I want to be second!"

Realisation came over the girl, as Richard clearly saw. Her look, full of disappointment and accusation, cut through his heart, but his two companions had no such scruples. They rushed the girl and pinned her to the ground. She fought like a wild cat, but the two young men were too strong.

"Don't just stand there, Richard," Joyce hissed, lifting up the hem of the girl's skirt.

Richard stared in trance at the girl's bare legs. She was so beautiful! But it was not right! The muffled cries of the girl expressed her desperation. But right at the top of her legs, he could see the patch of thin, blond hair that hid her treasures. He breathed deeply and unbuckled his belt. Dropping his breeches he stepped between her legs and knelt down.

"Richard, what are you doing!"

The angry scream pierced through his foggy brain. It was his sister Eleanor! The shame of the situation took his breath. He tried to stand up, but he got caught in his breeches and stumbled.

"Oh Eleanor, came to have some fun, too? Just wait, you can be next!" Patrick leered. "Oh no, damned!"

The last exclamation was due to the fact that the tall frame of the squire loomed in the door. In a split second, he had lifted both young men off the prostrate girl by the scruff of their necks. Banging their heads together, he roared at them in unrestrained fury.

"You mangy curs! Molesting girls on my lands, are you? Insulting my daughter, are?"

With each sentence, he banged their heads against each other.

"Father, stop!" It was Eleanor, who was able to penetrate the fury of her father. "Don't kill them!"

With a look of disgust, he dropped the bloodied boys. He breathed deeply.

"Eleanor, please help the girl to her feet and bring her into the house. Tell your mother what has happened; she'll know what to do. Don't worry. I will not kill them."

Eleanor nodded. With soothing words, she helped the shaking girl to her feet and led her out of the barn. They had not reached the house yet, when shrill yelps of pain were heard from the stables, and the sounds indicated that a riding crop was put to good use upon the young men. Together with her mother, Eleanor put the frightened girl to bed in a guest room. While her mother stayed with her, Eleanor went to her room. Through her window, she saw the Tremont boys limp to their horses. They yelped again when their backsides contacted the saddles, and their posture left no doubt that their way home would be very painful. Then her father came out of the stable, pushing Richard towards the house. Eleanor's eyes filled with tears of disappointment. She had always loved her older brother, looked up at him. Never would she have thought him capable of violating a helpless girl.

Richard Carter felt the burning shame of his situation. He had been whipped with the riding crop until that instrument was reduced to tatters. He could barely walk with pain. The humiliation was even worse. He had just turned nineteen, and the people had begun to treat him with respect.

Now, he was sure that they all laughed their heads off at his expense. He had been caned like a little boy. It was not right. His father punished him for a little fun at the expense of a wandering shepherdess. Who cared? According to Joyce and Patrick, that was how things were.

When they entered the house, he saw his mother, and he rushed to her to complain. He never saw his mother's hand, but its impact on his left cheek rattled his brain.

"Go to your room and out of my sight, Richard!" she ordered with a voice full of cold rage.

He could not believe his senses. His mother had been loving and caring as long as he remembered. All this about this tramp girl? Sulking, he walked up the stairs. When he reached the landing, his sister was standing in the door to her room. He started towards her, but with a look of disgust in her eyes, she slammed the door shut. He knocked on her door.

"Eleanor, what is the matter with you all? We only had a little fun! They did not really mean to hurt you, I swear."

The door swung open and Eleanor faced him. He could see tears in her eyes and her voice nearly broke.

"How dare you! Only fun? Ask the girl if she thought that was funny! What did you think? You are my brother. I loved you and looked up at you. And then you go and rape a helpless girl! You coward!"

"I thought you loved me, Eleanor," he stammered.

"Not anymore, Richard. I am ashamed to be your sister."

The door slammed shut before him, and he was left alone. Dazed, he walked to his room and sank on his bed. The pain in his backside made him jump up, and he carefully positioned himself on his stomach. The whole situation became clear to him. All the people he loved and respected had turned against him. His beloved sister, his soul mate, had torn into him like he was a criminal. He did not have a friend in the world anymore. What had he done to deserve this? He whipped around when the door to his room opened.

Lady Carter quietly walked up to his bed and sat on a corner. The movement caused a good deal of pain to Richard's battered backside.

"I need to talk to you, Richard. No, be quiet and listen and you will understand how much you have hurt me and your father today. You are almost grown, and I need to tell you a few things.

"I was your sister's age, when I first met your father. We fell in love with each other almost on the spot. But the situation did not allow us to show our love. Later, we had a misunderstanding, and we were separated. It was three long years, before I saw him again. He had just been posted captain Finally, we were able to declare our love. I cannot tell you how happy we were! Your father had to sail to New South Wales for a year, but we planned to get married after his return.

"A few months later, I was staying at the house of an aunt. In the night, another house guest broke into my room and raped me. He beat me senseless, pinned me on the bed and had his way with me. I wanted to die, Richard! I was close to killing myself! It took almost two years for me to regain my sanity. This is not "a little fun", Richard. This is ugly, revolting, and hateful. It destroys the soul of the woman you violate. Now that you know my story, son, you must understand this: if you ever hurt a girl again, I will cease to be your mother."

Richard stared at his beautiful mother with open mouth, his pain momentarily forgotten.

"Who did that to you?" he stammered.

"Never mind. He was killed a year later by the angry father of another girl he violated. All that's left of him is an unpleasant memory. Don't make me believe that you are like that man, Richard. Think about it tonight! Tomorrow, you have to tell me whether you want to remain my son."

She got up and left the room before Richard was able to comprehend her words fully. But then, and for the first time, he realised what he had done. He had tried to do to the girl what had been done to his own mother. It had to be twenty years ago, but he had seen the pain in her eyes when she spoke about it. Shame and desperation washed over him, and he cried for a long time before sleep claimed the upper hand.



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Chapter 2: The Road to Redemption



Ellen, too, had a hard time falling asleep. The shock she felt was sitting deep. She had always been open and friendly to other people, and she had mostly experienced friendliness in return. She had liked the son of the squire at first sight and had found his shyness appealing. When he came into the stable, she had smiled at him. And then he had knelt between her legs while his friends held her down, aiming his angry, swollen member at her. Why had he done this? With friendly words and a little patience, he might have come a long way with her, and without troubles. She realised that he had been egged on by his companions, but it still was he who tried to rape her.

The reaction of his family had stunned her, though. The squire had been beside himself in his fury. She had heard the cries of the boys when they were caned. The beautiful Lady Carter had wept openly when she tended the scratches and bruises Ellen had suffered, and her daughter, Eleanor, had hugged her repeatedly and asked her forgiveness. Ellen knew that most families would have blamed everything on her, would perhaps have given her a small amount of money to hush her up. But the Carters had not blamed her at all. They were good people, and Ellen decided to ease their anguish by forgiving the attack. She had been saved in time, and she had suffered no real harm. She did not want them to be upset any more. With that thought, she finally fell asleep.

She awoke to a knock on her door. It was almost dark in her room, but the faint light of the approaching dawn filtered through the curtains.

"Yes," she answered.

The door opened, and a battered Richard Carter limped in. Ellen's eyes narrowed in fear and she bolted up, ready to jump from the bed. The boy lifted his hands and stood back against the far wall, trying to keep as much distance to her as possible.

"Please," he whispered, "don't be afraid. I promise I will not come near you."

"What do you want?" she hissed, panic in her voice.

"I want to apologise. And I want to beg your forgiveness. Please, hear me out!"

She heard something in his voice, anguish, and sighed heavily.

"Speak then! But don't come any nearer!"

"Don't worry. Even if I wanted, I could not hurt you. My back is blue, and I cannot move without pain."

"So, you came to complain? Was it my fault?"

"No, no, I had it all coming, as I realise now. Listen, I saw you when you arrived, and I thought that I had never seen a more beautiful girl. I dreamt of you the whole night. When Joyce and Patrick came to visit, I told them how beautiful you were. We saw you from my window. Then they said that I should just take you, they said you would like it in the end. They seem to have done such things before. I let them talk me into it, but believe me, I did not think they would just grab you, like they did."

"But you were ready enough to step between my legs!" Ellen accused.

In the darkness she saw that he put his face into his hands.

"That is my guilt," she heard his muffled voice. "I have no excuse or explanation. I only feel mortified over the shame I brought over my family and over the hurt I must have caused you."

"Do you really mean that? Or is this just some ruse to get on the good side of your parents again?"

"My parents have no idea that I am here. This is between you and me. I ask your forgiveness so that I may cope with my guilt."

"I believe you are sincere, and I forgive you," she said after a long piercing look into his face.

"Thank you, Ellen," he exhaled. "I promise, you will never regret this generosity. I will leave you alone now. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!"

He opened the door to let himself out, but he was stopped in his tracks.

"Richard, what have you done to her again?"

It was Eleanor. She pushed him aside and rushed into Ellen's room and to her bed.

"Are you all right? What did he do to you?"

"Nothing, Miss Eleanor. Please, calm down. He came to ask my forgiveness. He was very honest, and I think he means what he said. I forgave him."

"You did?"

"Yes, and so should you. He did something terrible, or tried to do it. But he seems to be truly sorry, and he will learn from it. Give your brother a chance to redeem himself."

Eleanor nodded, and pressed Ellen's hand briefly. She left the room and went straight to Richard's. He answered to her knock, and she entered.

"Richard, I just accused you wrongly. I am sorry for that. I am still angry at you for what you did yesterday, but I will give you a chance."

With that, she turned, before she could see the tears of relief in his eyes.

True to her word, Ellen told her hosts that she had forgiven their son. But Lady Carter still asked her son about his decision. He had thought long about how to answer.

"I will never make you ashamed of me again. That I promise. And I accept responsibility for my acts whichever way you see fit."

"First of all, you should offer a formal apology to her," his father started.

"I did that this morning, father. She accepted, and I thanked her."

"Good. There will be other consequences. I do not feel that your stay in Eton had positive effects on you. We will have a private tutor, and you will continue your studies at home where I can take part in your education. The tutor can teach Eleanor as well."

"That is no punishment, father. I never liked Eton."

Sir Anthony shook his head.

"You received your punishment yesterday. What we need to do now is to correct our ways where we erred in your upbringing. What you did yesterday cast a doubt on us as well because we failed to provide you with sound morals."

Richard felt bad again that his parents blamed themselves for something he had done.

"You have been good parents to me. Believe me, I heard enough at Eton to know this. It was I who did wrong yesterday, and I will have to correct my ways. I want to do penance, too. I have a generous allowance. I would like half of this year's allowance to be given to Ellen. She can buy more sheep, maybe even a small farm for herself, I don't care."

"No!" Lady Lambert interjected sharply. "Never try to buy your way out of your responsibility. You have hurt the girl. To give her money would add insult to injury. She may accept it, but it would make her feel cheap. Sit down and think of a way to do something for her personally."

"I'm afraid, mother, she will not allow me to get near to her. She is afraid of me."

"Then you will have to work hard to earn her trust. Believe me, you will only feel free of guilt if you can regain the trust of the women in your life. Eleanor is very disturbed, too. You have many fences to mend, son."

"Listen to your mother, Richard. The girl will be on our lands for a while. Don't rush things. It will teach you a lot for your future."

Richard was at loss what to do in the next days. He had a partial success with his sister Eleanor who could not be mad at her brother for more than a few days. When Richard asked her to accompany him to the market in the nearest town, she relented. Richard wanted to have his sister with him, because he wanted her opinion on things that he might purchase for Ellen. Things that were personal, that showed he saw her as an equal.

The weather had cleared up, and Ellen had left High Matcham with her flock to graze them in the disused meadows along the Thames river. Richard was worried because he had not found a way to speak to her again.

They arrived at the market and strolled along the tables. Richard was solicitous to his sister and insisted on paying for the few items she wanted to purchase. More out of desperation than anything else he purchased a pair of well-crafted boots for Ellen, as well as an oilskin cloak. But he felt that these items were not really better than giving her money. They were coming close to the tent where life stock was auctioned. Out of indecision he walked in. He only heard the last words of the auctioneer, but he knew immediately that this was it.

"... fathered by Barry of High Tor, champion sheep dog. Look at them! They are brave and smart. We start with this male pup, strongest of the litter. Do I hear an opening bid? All right, it's a sovereign from Mr. Barrow. Do I hear more? Yes, two sovereigns from Master Carter!"

The auction lasted over fifteen minutes, and in the end Richard paid six guineas to the breeder. He left the tent with the black and white pup under his arm to meet an astonished Eleanor.

"What did you buy a dog for?" she asked, before understanding showed in her face. "A sheep dog! That is so thoughtful, Richard! She'll love it! When will you give it to her?"

"How about this afternoon? I'll have to be very careful, though."

"You be just that, Richard. Do not sneak up on her, call for her openly and get off the horse first. Then just stand in an open space and wait for her to approach you."

Richard nodded. "That is exactly how I thought I should do this."

That afternoon, Richard had a horse drawn cart readied and he set off in the direction of the river bend. It was a sunny afternoon, and he enjoyed the rays of sunlight on his skin. He could see the sheep at a distance and he slowed the horse from a trot to a walk. There was no way that she did not hear him with the creaking springs of the cart. Nevertheless, he hailed her when he approached the herd.

"Ellen, it's me, Richard Carter. I mean no harm, I promise. But I have a few things for you that you may find useful. I will place them on this tree stump. Then I will go back to the cart. You can have a look and tell me whether you want them."

He walked forward with the bundle of clothes and the boots and placed them on a tree stump some twenty paces from the cart. Then he walked back to the cart and waited.

Ellen appeared from behind a boulder from where she had watched his approach. She was not completely convinced of his intentions yet, but she had seen his limp, and she knew that she could outrun him with a head start of twenty paces. Slowly, she advanced to the stump and looked at the heap of clothing. Still watching the young man from the corners of her eyes, she looked at the items. The boots were wonderful, she decided. Made from strong leather and well-greased, they would be watertight. And the oilskin coat made her heart leap. Never again would she suffer in the cold with wet clothes. She looked at the young man who was watching her intently.

"Why would you bring me these things?" she asked warily.

Richard took a deep breath. This was a crucial moment.

"I noticed how poorly you were clothed for the rainy weather when you arrived at High Matcham," he said. "I was hoping that you would find those items useful. I was also hoping that you would be less fearful of me in the future."

"There is no scheme behind this generosity?" she asked, her blue eyes locked into the boy's.

"It would lessen my feeling of guilt to know that I did something good for you. That is my scheme."

Ellen decided. He seemed genuine in his desire to make good for his bad behaviour. She saw him shift uncomfortably on the seat of the cart. Riding a cart with his hurting backside alone was a sacrifice on his part, she thought with an inward grin.

"I thank you for the shoes and the coat. If there are no conditions attached, I accept them."

She could see the tentative smile on his face. He lifted another bundle from the bottom of the cart. He looked at her.

"I would like to give you this, too. But I cannot just put it on the ground. You will know why when you see what's in it. Will you trust me, please, to take this bundle from me?"

Ellen swallowed. This was unexpected. To go within his reach, miles away from anybody else, required a lot of faith. She tried to read his eyes, and she could only detect fear of rejection. She gulped and looked down. She saw the hard stubble from last year's crop, and an idea formed.

"This is difficult for me," she said. "Would you take off your boots? I would feel safer that way."

Immediately, he tore off his boots and threw them away from the cart. Breathing deeply, she approached the cart. When she was close, he held the bundle towards her, and to her surprise, she noticed that it moved. Carefully, she took it from his hands. It was inevitable that their hands touched, and she held her breath again. But then the bundle was in her arms, and she saw the snout of a pup between the cloth. She looked up.

"A dog?"

Richard nodded.

"Its father is the best sheep dog in the county," he said proudly. "If you teach it properly, it can do a lot of your work for you. It'll warn you, too, of anything that may threaten you."

"It was expensive, wasn't it?" she asked, her eyes squinting at him.

"Never mind," Richard said. "I wanted the best dog for you."

"Does it have a name yet?"

"No, it's barely weaned."

"I'll call it Ricky then, to remind me of you. Thank you. You know, had it not been for last week, I would give you a kiss now. But I'm not over my fears, yet."

Richard made a grimace.

"I ruined everything, didn't I?"

"Perhaps we can repair it with time," she suggested. "Just never do anything that mean again!"

To her own surprise, she offered her hand to him. He gripped her hand so tightly that she felt fear rise up in her, but it was just his emotion.

"I will never hurt you again. May I come and see you from time to time?"

"I guess," she sighed. "But make sure to announce your coming. But now, please go. And don't forget your boots," she added with a small grin.

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Over the next three weeks, Richard rode over to the riverbank at least twice a week. He always brought things for Ellen. The pup was growing fast, and already circling the sheep, annoying them greatly. Ellen would laugh exuberantly at his antics, and Richard looked at her open mouthed when she did. She was a lovely creature, and her laughter made him happy. Soon, they would sit side by side when they ate the food he brought along. And they talked. Or rather he talked and she listened. She did not reveal anything of her past, and when he tried to learn more about her, she quickly became silent. Rather than suffering her silence, he stopped pressing her.

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Richard was saddling his bay horse when Eleanor came down to the stables.

"Are you visiting Ellen again?"

"Yes. Would you care to accompany me? Perhaps, she would like to speak with another girl."

"I'd love that. But are you sure that I will not spoil anything?" she asked mischievously.

"We are far from that, Eleanor. As it is, I am happy that she will sit on the same log with me."

"Then, if you don't mind, I'll ride with you."

Richard helped her saddle her horse, and they rode off in the direction of the Thames river. They rode in an easy canter, again comfortable in each other's presence, when suddenly Richard started and pointed forward. Two horsemen were riding in the same direction, half a mile ahead. That was odd, since this was no public road. Suddenly, Richard recognised the riders.

"It's the Tremonts. Quick, Eleanor, ride home and alert father! They are after Ellen."

"Where are you going, Richard?"

"I'll try and head them off. But they are two. You have to get father, and quickly!"

Eleanor wheeled her horse and raced off towards the manor. Richard spurred his own horse and galloped after the Tremont brothers.

Ellen enjoyed being by herself. The early spring sun warmed her and rekindled her positive outlook on the world. Sitting on a boulder, she let her thoughts wander. As she often did, during the last weeks, she thought of young Richard Carter. With her reservation and fear of him waning rapidly, she began to look forward to his visits.

Ellen had little experience with young men. The men who had visited her father's house were his age or older, and Ellen shuddered when she thought about the way they stared at her. She had met a few young lads, farm hands or farmers' sons, while herding her sheep, but none of them had appealed to her. Truth be told, she appealed to none of them, either. She was a penniless girl, with no dowry. What could an honest farmer's son do with her?

Richard, of course, was different. When he told her of school and of the books he was reading, he awakened her yearning for the comfortable living she had known as a child. She had known books, too. She had eaten from china plates, instead of the wooden cutting board she used now. She could reasonably expect a moderate place in society, with a young officer for a husband. But her mother's death and her stepfather's social decline had put a stop to such hopes.

She was under no illusions that anything serious could develop between her and the squire's son. There were worlds between them. He probably sought her company to redeem himself in his own and his parents' eyes. But he was courteous and friendly now, and his attention was soothing to Ellen's wounded soul.

The sound of approaching horses did not worry her at first. She expected Richard's visit. She rose lazily and peered through the naked branches of the small wooded copse.

She recognised the Tremont brothers at once and looked around frantically. She had no doubt as to the nature of their intentions. It would not do to hide, because the copse was too small. It would not do to run, because they were on horseback. Or perhaps it would do. At the far end of the little copse there was a bog. She had to run there, lure them behind her, and then escape through the dense underbrush where they could not follow on their mounts.

She had barely started running when she heard the shouts of her pursuers. They had seen her and bore down on her in a gallop. Ellen ran as fast as she could, her long legs covering the ground at a surprising speed. At the last moment she veered to the right and into the underbrush and she heard the curses of her pursuers.

The copse was just a quarter mile wide, and she crashed through the low branches, tearing her skirt and cutting the skin of her legs. She could hear the galloping horses as her pursuers turned to circle the little forest. Out of breath and hurting, she reached the edge of the wood and burst into the open meadow, when suddenly she saw a third horseman bear down on her. She was trapped. The realisation froze her for a second. When she regained her presence of mind and started to run, the rider was already upon her.

"Get up behind me, quick!" he shouted, offering his hand.

Stunned, she looked up and recognised Richard Carter. She backed away in fear.

"Trust me please!" he pleaded. "My sister is trying to get help, but we have to flee. I promise, I'll bring you to safety. Please, let me help you!"

She had no choice. The sound of the other riders drew nearer already. She took the offered hand and felt herself lifted up. Straddling the horse behind the saddle, she held on to Richard's waist. She felt the horse wheel on the spot and then start into a gallop. Racing along the edge of the forest, they saw the two Tremonts ride up to them.

"Trust me," Richard whispered, and then he shouted triumphantly, "I have her!", slowing down his horse. The Tremonts were surprised to see him, but not happy, he could tell. They slowed down too, facing him.

"What are you doing here?" Patrick demanded surly.

"This is still my father's land, and the right of the hunt is mine," Richard retorted, a false grin pasted to his face.

"Well, no harm done," Joyce shrugged and dismounted. "There's enough of her to go around."

He walked over to Richard's horse and lifted his arms after Ellen. That was the moment Richard had hoped for. Kicking Joyce in the chest, he spurred his horse against Patrick's. Leaning over, he pushed Patrick hard, knocking him out of the saddle. Before either of the Tremonts could react, Richard was racing along the forest with the girl behind him. The Tremonts lost valuable time mounting their horses before they could follow them, and Richard hoped that the advantage he had could balance the extra weight his horse was carrying. Now they were past the copse and headed straight towards High Matcham. The Tremonts were already in pursuit, but they gained only slowly. In the distance, Richard spotted riders.

"Thank God, Ellen, there's my father coming already," he cried.

Suddenly, there was a crack behind them and he felt an impact on his left arm. The pain set in immediately.

'Not now, ' he thought, 'we're almost there.'

He clamped his teeth, holding on to the reins with his good right arm and kept spurring his horse. The sounds of the pursuers suddenly died away, and then the party from the manor was around them. By this time, Richard was barely conscious.

"He was hit by a shot!" Ellen cried, and strong hands helped them down from the panting horse.

Sir Anthony looked at the fleeing riders.

"Get them, they'll hang for this!" he ordered with cold fury in his voice, and five of the group mounted their horses again and galloped off.

Eleanor was beside herself seeing her brother's bleeding arm. Together with Ellen, she cut off the remainder of his sleeve, and they bound the bleeding wound. That done, they lifted him onto his horse and tied him to the saddle. For a moment, they were at a loss how to prevent him from falling, but Ellen climbed up behind him and held his chest during the short ride to the manor, while the squire led the horse. One of the men raced ahead and to the village to alert the doctor.

When they arrived at the manor, Richard was lifted off the horse and carried into his bedroom. A very pale Lady Carter assumed the command and redid the bandage with fresh linen. Richard was slowly coming to when the doctor was rushed into the bedroom. Only his parents remained with the doctor, and Eleanor led Ellen to her own room. She noticed the cuts and bruises that Ellen had suffered and the torn garments and ordered a wash basin to be brought to her room. Once the maid came, they undressed Ellen with great care and washed her wounds. Afterwards, Eleanor insisted that Ellen dressed in a blouse and skirt of hers.

In the meantime, the doctor had dressed the wound properly. The bullet had gone clean through the fleshy part of the upper arm, but no bone had been broken. Richard had lost a lot of blood, however, and would have to rest for a few days. The relieved Lady Carter sobbed in her husband's arms while the doctor took his leave. Eleanor and the cleaned-up Ellen came back into Richard's room to hear about him, and they both had tears of relief in their eyes. Richard was sleeping now, and Eleanor and her mother decided to take turns and watch over him. However, Ellen pleaded to be included in the task, and so it came that when Richard awoke two hours later, he looked into the concerned eyes of Ellen. She was wiping his face and neck with a cool, wet cloth. He was dizzy and feverish, but he calmed under her gentle ministrations.

He searched her face and realised that she held no fear of him anymore. A peaceful smile spread over his face, and he fell asleep again.

When he woke up the next time, it was almost morning, and he was feeling much better. The fever had peaked in the late evening hours and was receding now. His mother was bent over him, a caring smile on her lips. He had always thought that his mother was beautiful, but never more than in this moment.

"Good morning, Richard. How do you feel?"

"Less dizzy, and less hot."

"That's good, darling. Would you like to drink?"

He nodded and she let him drink water from a cup. She rang the bell, and when one of the maids appeared, she ordered a cup of chicken broth to be heated.

"Where is Ellen?" he asked.

His mother smiled.

"She is asleep. Did you know she stayed with you until the wee hours? I had to remind her who is the mistress of this house to get her to sleep. Richard, I need to tell you as soon as possible: we are all very proud of you. You behaved like the son we wanted to raise."

Richard, in spite of his weak state, felt ten feet tall. Then he thought of the day before.

"Did they catch Joyce and Patrick?"

"No, they escaped. Mr. Justice Bolton has already ordered them arrested, but they have fled. Old Mr. Tremont is beside himself, as you can imagine. He has offered restitution for you."

"No, let him keep his money," Richard said. "He will lose his sons, and it will be hard for him to get by. I had my reward already."

Lady Carter raised her eyebrow.

"Ellen. She sat with me, and she's not afraid of me anymore."

"And how do you feel now?"

"I could hug the world, mother. I'm not even angry with the Tremonts anymore. They provided me with the chance to prove myself worthy of her trust and yours."

"I don't agree with that," Lady Carter cautioned. "They tried to kill my son. If your father ever gets hold of them, he is going to strangle them. And I shall help gladly."

"Mother, there is another thing I wanted to tell you for weeks. I want to thank you for telling me about your past and for opening my eyes. I know it hurt you to speak about all that, but it was the one thing that made me realise what I had done."

"That's why I told you. I was difficult, believe me, but I know now that it was worth the pain."

Just then, the maid arrived with some soup, and Richard realised how hungry he was. The strong broth invigorated him, and he asked for more. When the maid picked up the tray, he noticed that she looked at him with adoration. It flustered him considerably.

Later, his father came in and sat on his bed.

"Richard," he began, "your mother has told you how proud we are of you? Well, she is right. That wound will leave a scar. But that scar will always remind you of your bravery yesterday. It can hurt to do the right thing, but it's worth the pain."

"I know what you mean," Richard grinned. "I couldn't feel better about myself."

His father nodded.

"We will have more time to talk to each other, now that you won't return to Eton. We need to do that often. For now, Richard, the whole estate is proud of you, and there is something I have for you." He bent down to pick up something from the floor. Richard was stunned to see a sword being placed on his bedcover.

"This is a very good sword, from the best smith in Kingston. It served me well for five years and through five engagements. It is yours now, until the day when you will inherit my Toledo sword. You have proven to be a gentleman yesterday, and this sword will mark you as one. You can carry it with pride! As soon as you'll feel better, I shall give you fencing lessons. Not the pussy footing that you learned at school, but real fencing. I learned from some of the best, and it's time to pass on that knowledge to my son."

To say that Richard felt ten feet tall would have been woefully inadequate. At that moment, he could have slain a dragon. When a tired Ellen came into his room an hour later, he even knew which damsel to rescue. She glanced at the sword and shot a questioning look at him.

"My father gave it to me this morning. It has great value to him, I know, because he used it himself in the Great War. It was his way of telling me that I did right."

A grin spread over Ellen's face, and she bent over Richard and kissed him. He was breathless when she came up again.

"This my way of telling you that you did right. Which way do you like better?"

Richard looked at her, and a happy smile formed on his lips.

"This is hard to decide, it really is. Could we try again?"

"You mean, let your father come in with another sword?" she asked mischievously.

"No," he almost whined, "I want to try your way once more."

She bent down again, and this time, the kiss lasted a long time. In fact, until Eleanor could be heard clearing her throat. Unhurriedly, Ellen let go of his lips, even kissed his nose once, and looked up.

"Ellen, my father asks you to come to his study. He has things to discuss with you."

Ellen looked worried, but Eleanor calmed her. "Nothing serious, as far as I know."

Ellen quickly pressed Richard's hand and left the room.



-------

Chapter 3: Revelations



When Ellen had left, Eleanor sat down on Richard's bed.

"Wasn't that kiss a lot better than forcing her?" she asked calmly.

Richard's smile vanished only briefly.

"You are right, Eleanor. I almost forgot that. That kiss, it was so sweet! After what I did to her, she still cares for me. She is wonderful!"

"Ssh, Richard, you need to be careful! Of course, she is very grateful to you. But don't make her do things that she may have to regret later. She's a shepherdess, and you are the son of the squire. It is not like you could marry her."

"Why are you saying this, Eleanor?"

"Because I don't want either of you hurt, especially you."

"In the right dress she could easily pass for a lady," Richard insisted stubbornly. "Her speech is without fault, and she moves like she has always worn dresses like yours."

Brother and sister stared at each other.

"But of course, Richard, you are right! I did not notice, but of course! She is no uneducated, wandering shepherdess; there must be more to her. Don't worry, we'll find out. Let me talk to mother. She will know how to do this without hurting her."

-------

In the meantime, Ellen had reached the door to Sir Anthony's study. She knocked reluctantly, not sure what to expect.

"Do come in," the Admiral's voice sounded from within.

Ellen opened the door and stepped in. Sir Anthony was sitting in a comfortable, leather-covered armchair, but he rose when she entered and offered her a seat in a second chair. Without thinking, Ellen sat. She briefly wondered at the satisfied smirk that passed between her host and Lady Carter who was standing at a high window, overlooking the garden.

"My dear girl, first, let me express my regret at the fear you had to go through yesterday. I am not doing my duty of protecting those dependent on me, and I apologise to you."

"Sir Anthony, I can hardly expect you to keep a watch over me all the time. But I am grateful for the way you and your family rushed to my rescue. Please accept my deep gratitude."

Sir Anthony nodded.

"As things are, my dear, and with the two scoundrels still at large, I cannot allow you to live out there by yourself. We could never console ourselves if something happened to you. We would therefore ask you to stay as our guest until the Tremonts have been apprehended."

"But Sir Anthony, that could take weeks and months!"

The admiral shrugged. "I have a large house, and what is one more mouth to feed? Besides, you do not eat all that much," he grinned.

"But how could I, a wandering shepherdess, intrude on you and your family?" Ellen asked, fencing for time. She tingled all over from the prospect of living in this household.

"Well, my dear, this is no problem at all, since you and I both know that you are no wandering shepherdess."

Ellen's heart sank.

"What do you mean by that, Sir?" she asked.

Lady Carter came over and took her hand.

"My darling girl, we hear you talking, we see your posture, we observed you while you ate. I wished my own daughter were as well behaved as you are. I see your skin, your fingers, your feet and your teeth when you smile, and there is no way on earth that you have spent the eighteen or seventeen years of your life under the open skies. Just a few moments ago, when my husband offered you a seat, you accepted with the perfect grace of a young lady. We did not want to embarrass you, but you did not fool as even for ten minutes.

"Now it all depends on whether you trust us or not. If you were to tell us your real story, I promise that we will not divulge anything to anyone. But I have a son who cares deeply for you, my dear, and I don't want him hurt."

Ellen looked at the Carters for a minute before she made up her mind. In a small voice, she said.

"I trust you. What do you need to know?"

"Let us start with your real name," Sir Anthony suggested.

"Ellen Trilby," she answered, and she noticed that Lady Carter's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The name meant something to her.

"Why are you masquerading as a shepherdess, Ellen?"

Ellen took a deep breath.

"Because my stepfather wanted to marry me to one of his friends. Maybe that is the wrong way to say it. I was to be given to his friend as payment for a gambling debt."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Lady Carter.

"Tell us all, Ellen! "

"My father, Major George Trilby, fell at Waterloo. My mother remarried when I was ten years old, and I grew up in the household of Major John Meadows, one of father's fellow officers. Everything was fine until my mother died two years ago. He was always nice to me. But Mother's death devastated him, and he took to drink and gambling. A year ago, he was in heavy debt. His main creditor, a gambling crony, offered to forget the debt if I would marry him. He is at least fifty years old! My stepfather agreed, and one evening when he and his cronies were at our house, drinking and gambling, I was called into the salon and the engagement was announced in front of a group of drunkards. The old lecher even kissed me to the rude comments of the others. That night, when they were all drunk and slept deeply, I took my savings and travel clothes and ran off. I knew they would try to trace me down, my future husband is wealthy enough, and so I took to the countryside. One day, I met an old shepherdess on a meadow, and she let me stay with her. For half a year, she taught me shepherding. Then, one morning, she would not wake up. She had died in her sleep. I buried her and carried on. I never expected it to be so hard during the winter, though."

She shuddered involuntarily. Sir Anthony cleared his throat.

"What do you say, Miss Trilby, I'll have one of my men take care of the herd until you decide what to do with your life? Until then, you will stay as our guest. I may add that I speak not only for myself but also for my wife and especially my son."

"Why would you do that for me?"

Harriet Carter pulled the girl up from the chair and looked into her eyes.

"When I was twenty-two, I was married to a man against my will. No, not him," she smiled lovingly at Sir Anthony, "him I have loved since I was sixteen. I hated my first husband with every fibre in my heart, and my marriage was a torture until a gallant man killed him in a duel. I will do whatever is needed to prevent you from marrying a man you do not want. Can you accept that?"

Instead of an outright answer, Ellen put her head against Lady Carter's chest and hugged her. Harriet Carter looked down at the mass of golden tresses and she felt the sobbing of the girl in her arms. She smiled at her husband with brimming eyes, and he smiled back encouragingly. After a while, she set the girl down into the chair and went to ring the bell. When a maidservant showed, she sent her for hot chocolate. While they waited for the drink, Lady Carter caressed the hair of the girl and spoke soothingly to her under her breath. Sir Anthony had wisely left the room to give his wife a better opportunity to calm Ellen down. When the chocolate arrived, she sat down opposite the girl and bade her drink. The hot drink calmed Ellen, and she looked at her hostess with gratitude.

"This was the first time I could cry on somebody's shoulder since my mother died. Thank you, Lady Carter, for your kindness."

"Let's not speak of it. One more thing I have to ask you, though. Have you truly and honestly forgiven my son? Are you comfortable with living under one roof with him?"

Ellen considered briefly, and then, for the first time since she came into the study, a smile lit up her features. Harriet Carter held her breath for a moment. She was not impervious to the charms of beautiful women, and on a few occasions, she had given free rein to this trait. The smiling Ellen Trilby was a sight to behold, and Harriet felt a tingle.

"After I had a chance to get to know him over the last weeks and after what he did yesterday, I have no reservations. Truth be told, Lady Carter, I care for him in no small way. Isn't that strange?" She noticed the empty stare of her hostess. "What is the matter, Lady Carter, are you well?"

Harriet snapped from her dazed state.

"I am sorry, Ellen. I just realised how truly beautiful you are. You know, you have the power to make men happy beyond measure or desperate beyond hope. Use that power wisely, Ellen, and please, do not hurt my son!"

"How could I hurt him?"

Harriet shrugged. "Simply by withholding your smile from him."

Ellen swallowed. "I promise never to hurt anyone in your family."

Once again, the two women hugged. Just then, the dinner bell rang, and they quickly dried their moist eyes before they left the study. Eleanor watched her mother and Ellen curiously, but refrained from asking what they had done for almost two hours in her father's study.

When dinner had been served and the maid had left, Lady Carter spoke to her daughter.

"Dear, could you please help out Ellen with a few clothes until we find the opportunity to have her fitted at Elisabeth's? Ellen will be staying with us for some time. Under the circumstances, we do not see fit for her to return to shepherding."

Eleanor looked at Ellen and gave her a friendly smile.

"Certainly, Mother. There is more to this, isn't there?"

Lady Carter smiled at her perceptive daughter.

"Yes there is, but it is not my secret to divulge. And don't you pester Ellen about it. She will tell you when it is right for her."

Eleanor looked at Ellen and received a shy smile and a nod. 'Later, ' Ellen mouthed.

"Or she may tell you later this evening, if she wishes," Harriet Carter smiled.

"Can we tell Richard, Mother? He is worried about her going back to her herd."

"Of course, he needs to know, too."

After they had finished eating, the table was cleared. While the elder Carters were looking forward to whatever Mrs. Blacket had conjured up for dessert, Eleanor and Ellen were fidgeting on their chairs until Lady Carter relented.

"All right, you two. Go then. I will have your dessert sent to Richard's room."

Eleanor paused only briefly to kiss her mother before she grabbed Ellen's arm and dragged her out. They could hear the girls bounding up the stairs.

"It's good for Eleanor, too, to have a girl her age in the house," Lady Carter remarked.

"If not, we can always search the countryside for a shepherd," her husband chuckled.

Richard Carter had finished his supper of chicken broth. Mrs. Blacket had served him in person, a rare privilege in the Carter household. Technically, she was only the housekeeper, but she was a force to be reckoned with. She was on a first name basis with Lady Carter, and nobody who had ever managed to make her angry had stayed with the household. To the Carter children, she was more like a favourite aunt than a housekeeper.

Now, she had left him with the promise of a chocolate mousse for dessert. He knew that this was a lot of work to prepare and that she had only made it for him because it was his favourite.

The door opened and Eleanor shuffled in, followed by Ellen. His sister looked heartbroken as she dragged Ellen to his bed.

"Richard, Mother has seen you two kissing, and now Father will not allow her to graze her sheep on our land any more."

Richard's breath stuck in his throat, and shame washed over him.

"Oh no, Ellen, what did I do again? But where can you go? The Tremonts may be still after you."

"Oh that?" Eleanor grinned. "Father thought it best that she stayed in our house and gave up those sheep. The smell is not becoming to her anyway."

"You... you... ," Richard fumed, "wait until I can get up again! You will pay for this!"

Eleanor laughed openly, clearly unimpressed with the threat. Ellen hesitated, though. For a moment she was worried about Richard; he had turned white as a sheet and had been mortified. Only when he began to laugh at himself did she join in the fun.

"He did not complain about the smell yet," she huffed playfully.

"And never will I," Richard assured her with only a trace of mockery. "By the way, did you have dessert yet? Nadine has made chocolate mousse."

"We'll have dessert with you. We thought it better to give you the news immediately.

"You could have killed me, you know that?" Richard grinned. "For a moment, I thought I had ruined everything again."

At this moment, the dessert arrived, again brought by the petite housekeeper.

"Ah, you 'ave lady friends wizz you? It is lucky I brought zzree 'elpings of ze mousse," she smirked.

"Thank you Nadine," Richard smiled. "But I am not sure that I will share my three helpings with them."

"Shame on you, Master Carter, it is not nice to let ladies go 'ungry."

"That would be a valid point if there were any ladies present beside you, and I trust you sampled the mousse beforehand."

"Now you are lucky to be invalid, brother of mine," Eleanor grinned. "Shall we leave the ungrateful cur, Ellen?"

Ellen shook her head. "No, I want to try this mousse. I had hot chocolate this afternoon, and I have never tasted anything remotely as delicious."

Nadine Blacket nodded at the implied compliment. "I add ground red peppers to ze cocoa to make ze chocolate spicy."

"Nadine is a treasure," Richard stated. "Whenever I visit friends at their houses and taste the food there, I notice how lucky we are to have her."

Nadine grinned; she liked the flattery, but she also knew the reason for it.

"I am sorry, Master Richard, zere is nuzzing left of ze mousse."

"Oh, my brother brown nosed for nothing," Eleanor giggled delightedly.

"No, 'e did not. I vill make hot chocolate for all of you. It vill help you sleep, eh?"

"You are the best, Nadine," Eleanor smiled. "Richard is right about that."

When Nadine had left, the three young people were at a loss for words for a few moments. It was Ellen who broke the silence.

"There is something that I need to tell you both. Your parents already know."

"Don't tell me that you are really a princess, but an evil witch cursed you, and you have to wander the lands as a poor shepherdess." Richard quipped.

"It's something like that," Ellen admitted. "Not that I'm a princess, but I am no shepherdess, either."

She repeated the story she had told their parents. When she finished, Richard grinned at his sister.

"I told you, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did, Richard," Eleanor conceded. "He told me this afternoon that with your behaviour and the way you talk, you could easily pass for a lady. That's when we realised that there was a mystery to you."

"You are not mad at me for this deception?"

Eleanor shook her head vigourously, but Richard did not answer. He had a faraway look in his eyes. Eleanor nudged him.

"A penny for your thoughts, Brother."

Richard snapped back.

"Er, nothing, I was just, er, thinking."

"You sure were, Brother. And I bet I know exactly who you were thinking about!" Eleanor grinned.

-------

Over the next two weeks, Richard made a complete recovery. The scar on his upper arm still needed some attention, but he was able to move about freely.

A tutor from London arrived, and a room on the second floor was cleared for the lessons. Eleanor and Ellen were on the same level of knowlegde, and Ellen quickly began to appreciate the lessons. Richard was more advanced in his studies, but the tutor, Mr. Rawling, was there for a more specialised education. It had been decided years ago that the future of Richard did not lie in the Royal Navy. The Navy was on peace establishment, his grandfather, Admiral Lord Lambert, had retired, and there was no career to be made for a young man. Besides, Richard was the only son and destined to take over the estates owned by his father. Therefore, the tutor had been selected for his prowess in agricultural and commerce matters, and in this direction Richard was educated.

Nevertheless, he took up fencing with his father, and he quickly learned the difference between the lessons he had taken at school and the purposeful swordplay of mortal combat. After practice, Sir Anthony would always go through the motions again to show Richard where he could improve. He showed an infinite patience with his son on those occasions, always maintaining that a sword was dangerous to the owner if he did not master the weapon. Being a healthy young man with quick reflexes, Richard took to the sport like a duck to water, and more than once Sir Anthony was heard to praise his son for his progress.

As another topic of his involvement with his son's education, Sir Anthony taught him gentlemanly conduct; how to maintain and defend one's honour, and how to avoid hurting other people's feelings. He did not shy away from the subject of duels, but he spend a lot of time telling his son how to avoid such situations. Sir Anthony had fought duels, true, but not for almost twenty years. For once, he was a renowned swordsman and an excellent pistol shot, something the notorious duellists rather avoided. Secondly, he took great care never to give offence. A duel, he told his son, would always hurt both sides.



-------

Chapter 4: Aunt Lucy



Summer came, and the preparations for a big Midsummer Night celebration were in full swing. Friends and relatives came to visit from far around. For Richard and Eleanor, having their close relatives was fun, for Ellen, the need to memorise all the new faces was tasking.

One of the first to arrive was Lady Carter's younger brother, Captain Andrew Lambert, with his pretty young wife Emily and their four children.

Ellen became flustered when presented to Lord and Lady Brougham, but Moira Palmer, Lady Brougham, a stunningly beautiful woman, hugged her with great personal warmth. Ellen was given to understand that Moira was a close personal friend of Harriet Carter. The Brougham's children were Richard's and Eleanor's age. Ellen blushed when she met the older sibling, James. He had inherited his mother's dark beauty, but had his father's sturdy built. He greeted Eleanor and Ellen politely, but his eyes were downcast, as if he was too shy.

The last couple to arrive was childless. Lady Carter forgot her dignity when she rushed to greet the woman with a fierce hug. Everybody seemed to know her and like her, because she received hugs and kisses from almost everybody, with the notable exception of Andrew Lambert and his wife. Her husband was a somewhat shy man, with greying whiskers and receding hairline, but with great dignity. Lady Carter brought the couple over to meet Ellen.

"Lucy, Jonathan, this is our protégé Ellen Trilby. Ellen dear, this is my best friend Lucy, and this is her husband, Sir Jonathan Wilkes. He is the best surgeon in London, if not in England."

Ellen looked at a well formed blonde woman, who exuded vitality and friendliness.

"This is the shepherdess who stole poor Richard's heart? Oh my, aren't you beautiful! Don't blush, my dear. I'm not making fun of you. Here, let me hug you."

Ellen found herself in a hug, and she could not resist the infectious laughter of Lady Wilkes. She, too, had heard about Lucy Wilkes, or Aunt Lucy, as Richard and Eleanor called her, and she found her every bit as nice as her reputation.

The next evening was Midsummer Night. The guests and the local gentry flooded the garden and the garden salon where the music played. Ellen found herself the centre of friendly attention, and she danced with almost all the men in presence. Even James Palmer, Lord Brougham's son, danced with her and made friendly conversation, and Ellen suspected that his mother had given him a hint. When, long after midnight, the musicians announced the final dance, Ellen looked around frantically until she spotted Richard standing at the entrance. She had not seen him the whole evening. She rushed to him, dodging several young men who wanted to have that last dance with her. He looked up when she stepped in front of him, and she saw a false smile on his lips.

"You have been avoiding me all evening, Richard," she complained.

"I did not want to bother," was his reply. She could tell the indifference was faux.

"This is my very first ball, and I enjoyed it very much so far. But this is the last dance, Richard, and I want to share it with you. Please?"

Richard relented and let her drag him to the dance floor. The Viennese Waltz had begun already, but they were quickly caught up in the music and spinning around the salon. Richard's mood changed for the better with every turn they made. When finally the music stopped, Ellen remained in his arms for a brief moment, and she pressed her head against his chest. Richard's mouth became dry.

"Shall we have some fresh air, Richard?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, dropping his arms and releasing her.

"You should offer me your arm, Richard," she said softly, and, in a daze, he complied.

They walked through the doors, over the terrace, and the few steps down into the garden.

"I liked the last dance, Richard," Ellen said.

"Me too, Ellen. You dance wonderfully."

"No, I don't," she laughed. "You were just lucky that my first partners tonight had to bear the brunt of my ignorance. With time, I learned the steps, though. Richard, why have been avoiding me?"

"I was afraid," he whispered.

"Afraid? Of what? Of me?"

"I was afraid that you might refuse me."

"But why should I?"

"You know why, Ellen."

"Richard, I thought we had that behind us. I have long forgiven you. More than that, I care for you."

"You do, Ellen? I care for you, too, more than you'll want to hear."

"I don't think I can hear enough of that, Richard."

The moment was there, and the kiss was imminent. But it was not to happen. A strange man approached them. He was dressed in city clothes, neat but not overly expensive.

"Miss Ellen Trilby, I presume."

Ellen was too shocked to deny it.

"And who might you be, Sir?" Richard demanded, angry over the crude interference.

"Major Dennis Fox, at your service! I have orders from this young lady's fiancé to conduct her home."

He took Ellen's arm and tried to pull her away.

"Stand back, Sir! I cannot allow you to manhandle Miss Trilby!"

Richard was surprised by the force with which he had shouted. Even the Major hesitated briefly before a grin spread over his face.

"That's not for you to allow, boy," he sneered.

"But maybe I have a word in this."

Sir Anthony had appeared miraculously.

"Who are you, Sir, and allowed you to manhandle my protégé?"

"I am Major Dennis Fox. I have my orders from this girl's fiancé to return her home."

"You will let go of her immediately!" the Admiral demanded. "No fiancé has authority over a girl before she is married to him."

"But she eloped him!"

"Well?"

"She has to return!"

"Major, I am Rear Admiral Sir Anthony Carter. You are standing on my land, and it would clearly help your cause if you had the courtesy to address me properly. I do believe that I am your senior in rank, even more so, since I am also a Colonel of the Royal Marines. Secondly, it would have been appropriate for you to call upon me in this matter during the daytime. To intrude into my house during a social function is more than rude and rises my suspicion. And thirdly, only her father can make a claim to have her returned to him. You can tell your employer that the girl is under my protection. I will talk only to her father, and I will certainly not hand her over to a stranger with a dubious claim to a military title. You may remove yourself from my property."

"I must protest, Sir!"

"Mr. Little, have this gentleman removed from my lands. You are not to set foot on my lands again, Major, not if you value your health!"

"Aye, Sir!"

Major Fox sputtered in indignation as the tall African easily steered him across the lawn and around the house.

"Ellen, it seems we must take precautions. I must trouble you to keep your windows and shutters latched securely. I do not trust this man."

They returned to the house, and for the next hour, Sir Anthony and Lady Carter saw their guests off until only the house guests remained. Another hour later, almost everyone was asleep.

The two who most definitely did not sleep were Ellen and Richard. Both were desperate at the turn of events. Ellen contemplated to flee again, but she was afraid that the sly Major could anticipate that move and catch her out in the countryside. Interestingly, Richard's thoughts also revolved around escape. But he would have to talk to his parents first. One thing he was sure about, though. He would not let Ellen go back to her stepfather.

The next morning, the family and their friends met in the dinner room for a breakfast and war council. Never one to miss a good breakfast, Mr. Justice Bolton appeared shortly after. They discussed Ellen's situation. Through his attorney, Sir Anthony had obtained information on her stepfather and the prospective groom, and Mr. Bolton asked a few pointed questions.

"Has that stepfather ever adopted Miss Ellen?"

"From what young Mr. Hogsbotham learned, no."

"Was he ever appointed legal guardian of her?"

"No, but that would not take him long, would it?"

"Well," Justice Bolton chuckled, "there is a solution for this. If you, Sir Anthony, asked to take the orphan Ellen Trilby as your adopted daughter, I can grant that today, and that stepfather will never get a foot on deck."

"Father, you cannot adopt her!" Richard cried desperately.

"Ah yes, that might prove a problem. I can't have my son romancing his sister, adopted or not."

"We'll do it," Lucy Wilkes volunteered. She looked at her husband for confirmation, and he smiled at her. "I have no children of my own, and I will gladly take her as my daughter."

Justice Bolton looked at her husband. "Sir Jonathan?"

Jonathan Wilkes pressed his wife's hand and nodded.

"Let's do it."

Mr. Justice Bolton looked at Ellen.

"Now, my dear girl, it is for you to decide. Dr. Wilkes and his wife are prominent members of London's society. They offer to accept you as their adopted daughter. Will you agree to this generous offer?"

"Would I have to move to London?" Ellen asked, casting a look at Richard.

"Until the affair is settled, yes, dear," the Justice said. "Would not sit well with my brethren otherwise, in case somebody challenges my ruling."

Lady Carter put her hand on Ellen's arm.

"I think I feel like opening our London house for the season," she smiled. "It's time for Eleanor, too, to make her debut. And we could go to the theatre again."

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Harriet," Lucy gushed. "We could all be together again! Moira, you and me, and Anita!"

"All right, all right, ladies," Sir Anthony called. Everybody looked at him. "I agree under one condition. Her sheep stay here!"

"But Ricky, can I bring him?" Lucy cried, suddenly remembering her dog.

Lucy patted her arm. "I like dogs, and there is a park behind our house. He will be fine. Now, Ellen, you have not answered."

Ellen cast her eyes down for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Then she looked into Lucy's blue eyes and made her decision.

"I would love to be your daughter if you will have me," she said in a small voice.

"Hear, hear," Lord Brougham shouted. "Jonathan, it's a girl!"

There was general laughter after this remark, and Moira looked at her husband with affection. He did not often add to the banter at the table, but when he did, it was always with a dry humour that never offended anybody. And it was always funny. She knew the warm hearted and sensitive man under the stoical veneer of a Peer of England, but for others it often came as surprise.

Moira turned her attention back to the table where the squire and his guests planned the next moves. The Justice's scribe and his seals were summoned, and in a short ceremony, the adoption of Ellen Trilby, abandoned orphan, by Sir Jonathan Wilkes, Dean of the Royal College of Surgeons, was finalised. A court order was made out and witnessed by Rear Admiral Lord Brougham and Rear-Admiral Sir Anthony Carter.

Sir Anthony, with the help of Justice Bolton, also composed a letter to Major Meadows, asking him to visit with the Carters at their London town house a fortnight hence to discuss the well-being of Miss Ellen Trilby.

A message was sent to the staff of their London home to prepare the house for the arrival of the family, and after a few days, the Carters and their friends boarded a number of carriages and drove eastward to London.



-------

Chapter 5: A Settlement



The town house had not been used by the family for more than a year, but they had a caretaker, and Sir Anthony had used it on a few occasions when naval or business matters commanded his presence in London. Nevertheless, the house was in a need for a "spring cleaning", and the whole family and all the servants worked together to make the mansion habitable. On occasions like this, Lady Carter felt that it would not hurt her dignity to participate in the work, and this applied to her husband and her children, too. In two days, all the rooms had been aired and cleaned, and the bad odours were gone. Then, Mrs. Blacket took over the household again, and the Carters reclaimed their rooms.

The old smoking room that had been Rupert Palmer's, Harriet's first and hated husband's, had long been remodelled to Sir Anthony's tastes, while the old study had remained Harriet's special domain. One of the smaller second floor rooms had been converted into a dedicated bathroom with a modern douche bath, an ingenious invention Sir Anthony had come across during a visit to New Orleans in the former French colony of Louisiana. The drain connected to a cast iron tube that in turn drained into the gutter outside. The water reservoir for the shower could even be heated. For Richard and Eleanor, using this bathroom was new, but both appreciated the luxury.

After everybody was settled and comfortable, Lady Carter and her daughter picked up Lucy and Ellen, and together they visited Wilson's Fashion on Bond Street. Elisabeth Wilson, the owner, was an old friend of the family who had started her business in a small shop in Portsmouth's Mulberry Street that she had rented from Tony Carter. For close to twenty years, Elisabeth Wilson had made the dresses for Harriet Carter, and the uniforms for Sir Anthony. Her business expanded over the years, and the move to London had brought her a large number of new customers. But Harriet Carter was still served by Miss Wilson personally.

A number of dresses and skirt/blouse combinations was ordered for Ellen, and Miss Wilson was in her element. Apprentices brought in bales of cloth in various colours and tones until Miss Wilson was satisfied that the colours complimented Ellen's blond tresses and blue eyes. Eleanor, too, needed new garments, having grown considerably over the last year. Her strawberry blond hair, so similar to her mother's, called for other colours, and again cloth bales were hauled from the storage until Miss Wilson was satisfied. In the meantime, two tailors worked on the dresses Ellen had been given by Eleanor to make them fit better on her more mature form. For Ellen, all this was like a wonder, and she was properly awed.

A fine shoemaker was the next address, and Ellen was fitted for a number of finely crafted boots. Then, the women hurried back to Lucy's house. It was explained to Ellen, that she was not to show herself on the street until she had proper dresses. First appearances were important, and she would be branded as poor relative if she were seen wearing hand-me-downs.

While Lucy and Harriet chatted amiably over tea, Ellen and Eleanor were in Ellen's new room. The Wilkes had welcomed their 'daughter' with open arms, and the room showed it. Eleanor smiled at Ellen's exuberance, thinking that she would be even more overwhelmed if she saw the Carters' mansion. Ellen, meanwhile, began to bombard Eleanor with questions about Richard, how he was, what he was doing, until Eleanor threw up her hands in defeat and promised to tell Richard that he should visit Ellen. Which he did.

Another week later, a visitor was announced at the Carter's house. A tall and gaunt man in his early forties, he introduced himself as Major John Meadows. Sir Anthony received him in private in his study. While tea was served, he studied the man. He had been a good looking man, no doubt, but too much drink and an unsteady living had taken their toll.

"I take it you came about Ellen Trilby," Sir Anthony offered.

"Well, yes, I want to pick up my daughter. It was very considerate of you to give her shelter, but she will have to return with me. As she may have told you, she is engaged to marry."

"Major, let's not beat about the bush," Sir Anthony cut in. "The girl told us that she was to marry a creditor of yours to satisfy a gambling debt. My wife and I find that sort of behaviour disreputable, to say the least. And I suppose the Major Meadows who fought honourably at Waterloo would have agreed."

"I am afraid the girl is none of your business, Sir Anthony. She is my late wife's daughter, and I am responsible for her."

"I'll have to dispute that claim, Major. I had my attorney look into church records and court documents. It so seems that you have neglected to obtain legal guardianship for Miss Trilby. And you did not adopt her as your daughter upon your marriage with the girl's mother."

Meadows blustered. "She lived in my house, I was married to her mother, and she is mine. I can obtain that guardianship within a day."

"Afraid not, Major," Sir Anthony calmly stated. "You see, technically, she was an abandoned orphan with no legal guardian. Therefore, Mr. Justice Bolton saw it fit for her to be adopted by a prominent London gentleman. You are two weeks late to obtain guardianship seeing that she is no orphan anymore."

Meadows' eyes nearly came out of their sockets.

"That has to be completely illegal, Sir! I will fight this."

"Major, let's not get overexcited here," Sir Anthony continued silkily. "This would mean a protracted legal battle that you can hardly afford. And it would be as harmful for the girl's future as it would be for your reputation. As it is, she receives an advanced education, and she will be able to find an appropriate husband, seeing that she is the only child and heir of a wealthy and well-respected man. I know there are issues at stake for you, and I am ready to help you redress those particular problems."

"What do you know about my problems?" Meadows shot back.

"Enough," Sir Anthony said simply. "You owe Mr. Ebenezer Fulton the sum total of 240 guineas. There are a few more minor claims, too, bringing the total to about 300 guineas. Correct?"

Meadows could only nod.

"Now, Major, if you were to apply for a loan of four hundred pounds at Coutt's dependency here in London, I am confident that your request will be approved. Let us just say the bank manager trusts me. That would certainly take care of your present responsibilities."

"But how should I ever repay this loan?" Major Meadows asked nervously. This conversation had taken a surprising turn.

"Yes, that is the next question. I am glad to notice that this is your first concern. As a matter of fact, it has taken me some effort to find a solution for this problem, but here it is. You served in the Spanish Peninsula under the Duke?"

Sir Anthony was referring to the Duke of Wellington, of course.

"Yes, I did," Meadows responded, suddenly with more confidence.

"And you speak Spanish?"

Again, Meadows replied in the affirmative.

"You are probably aware that several Spanish colonies on the Main have declared their independence? I thought so. Well, His Majesty's government wants to establish political and economic ties with these new states. A consulate will be established in Veracruz, Mexico, and there is an opening for an attaché militaire. You could be reinstated as a Lieutenant Colonel with full pay. With British merchants trying to gain a foothold in Veracruz, such consular posts pay off in more than one way."

"Why are you offering this to me?"

"Obviously, to get you out of the way," Sir Anthony replied frankly. "I would not insult your intelligence by claiming otherwise. But I want to do it in a mutually agreeable way. Your regiment was disbanded after Waterloo, wasn't it? Well, and you applied for employment for years without success. This will give you a chance to prove yourself again and find a new meaning for life."

"What do you want in return?"

Meadows was wide awake now, but years of frustration had left him suspicious.

"That you settle your debt with Mr. Fulton, that you revoke the engagement of Miss Trilby with Mr. Fulton, and that you pay the girl a visit and wish her well."

"And what, Sir Anthony, do you get out of this affair?"

For the first time, Sir Anthony allowed himself a grin.

"If all goes well, a very charming and beautiful bride for my only son. But that is far from being decided, so it is merely a gamble on my part. More importantly, my wife asked me to interfere on Ellen's behalf. She befriended your late wife, long before you ever met her. But that is immaterial. What do you say to my proposal, Colonel?"

Meadows knew he was baited with the chance of employment and advancement. But the deal offered was too tempting. Ellen would be taken care of in a way he would have never been able to, and he would have employment again. There was one question, though.

"What regiment would I be appointed to?"

"24th foot," was the answer that made Meadows gasp. That was a long way up from the 41st that had been disbanded after Waterloo, leaving him on half pay.

"I accept," he said breathing deeply.

A week later, in his new uniform and after forsaking drink and cards for almost ten days, Lt. Col. Meadows showed up at the Wilkes' home to meet his erstwhile stepdaughter. Ellen was surprised at his appearance and she told him, to his satisfaction, how her mother would have appreciated his turn around. Lucy Wilkes chaperoned Ellen through the meeting, preventing any undue accusations from either side. In the end, Ellen and her former stepfather parted with a conciliatory handshake and a fleeting kiss on his cheek.

Lt. Col. John Meadows never returned to England. He took up his new port, and within two years, he was able to repay the loan he had accepted. After serving the consulate in Veracruz for over three years, he started his own business, partnering with one of the British merchants. He proceeded to marry a wealthy Mexican widow, converted to Catholicism and stayed in Mexico for the remainder of his years.



-------

Chapter 6: Life and Death



Over the next weeks, Ellen and Richard saw each other regularly, but they found it difficult to get as close as they had been used to. They were never left alone, and a sense of frustration built up in both of them. The opening of the ball season should have provided them with an outlet, but at that point they had become slightly irritated with each other. Ellen, in her naive excitement, had come to enjoy the gossiping and scandal mongering of the London society, something Richard did not enjoy at all.

She, in turn, grew weary of his constant efforts to please her and of his fear of hurting her. In as far as a young, unmarried woman was able to, Ellen basked in the attention of the male and female salon dwellers. Beautiful and naive, she was the sensation of the early London season. She received invitations to the best salons, and it must be said that the attention she received went to her head. Suddenly, poor Richard with his devotion to her became a nuisance, and she began to avoid him and to invent excuses.

Lucy Wilkes noticed this, but she had not much influence over a girl who was showered with compliments wherever she went. Even with her, Ellen became slightly arrogant, making it clear that she moved in higher circles. One evening, late November, Ellen was invited to just another soiree. Lucy did not have the time to accompany her, nor did she allow her stepdaughter to attend without company.

"Lucy, this is unfair!" Ellen pleaded. "Everyone will be there. I can go alone. Mrs. Binnings will take care of me."

Marjorie Binnings was the hostess of this evening's reception.

"Ellen, you cannot go without company. It would not be proper," Lucy explained patiently.

"Perhaps James Finney can take me?" Ellen offered, mentioning one of the most notorious idlers of London.

"James Finney is not a fitting consort for you, Ellen," Lucy answered, quite scandalised. "You are not to socialise with him! He has a bad reputation. Did you know that he killed three men in duels in the last two years? Keep away from that man!"

If Ellen had been honest with Lucy, she would have admitted that the debonair James Finney had been one of her most ardent admirers of late. However, she knew that it would not be wise to tell Lucy. An idea struck her.

"What if Richard took me? You do trust him, don't you?"

"I thought you did not care for him anymore. You certainly cold shouldered him for weeks."

"He will come with me if I ask him," Ellen said confidently. "He will do anything for me."

"Ellen, I don't want you to toy with his feelings! He is a nice and honest young man, and if you hurt him, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course, don't worry," Ellen smiled. "But can I ask him?"

Lucy breathed deeply.

"All right. But remember, he will bring you and see you back home by 11 o'clock. Are we clear about this?"

However, Ellen was already running upstairs to write a billet for Richard, asking him to accompany her that evening.

-------

The evening was a nightmare for Richard. He had been so happy to see Ellen again, after weeks of excuses and downright snubs, but once they arrived at the Binnings', Ellen had left him standing alone. He hardly knew anybody, and most people were far senior to him. Most of the time, he stood to the side ignored by everybody. He did not understand Ellen's motives. If she loathed his presence, why had she asked him to accompany her? Later that evening, past ten o'clock, he finally saw her sitting alone and approached her. The musicians played a waltz.

"Would you like to dance this waltz with me, Ellen?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh Richard, dear, I am much too tired now. Could you fetch me a glass of water, please."

Sighing, Richard sought out a servant to get the glass of water. When he returned, his stomach cramped. Chatting away gaily, Ellen danced the waltz with a trim, good looking man in his late twenties. The feeling of dejection made way for cold anger. He placed the glass on a table and waited for the dance to end. Bowing to Ellen's dance partner, he addressed Ellen.

"I'm afraid we have to leave now, Miss Trilby," he said coldly. "I promised your mother to return you before 11 o'clock."

"But I don't want to leave just yet, Richard," Ellen pouted. She noticed his anger and tried to use her charm to make him relent.

"I am sorry, Miss Trilby, but we really have to leave."

"But I don't want to!"

The pout was gone. Ellen did not like being treated like a child by Richard. She looked around.

"Mr. Finney, cannot you bring me home later?"

"Ellen, I promised Lucy to return you by 11 o'clock."

"Leave her be, boy," James Finney drawled. "I can take care of her and return her home."

Richard took a deep breath.

"Sir, with all due respect, I cannot betray the trust of Miss Trilby's stepmother. I assure you that this is the last time that I will stand in your way, but tonight she arrived with me and she will leave with me."

"Bravely spoken, my boy," Finney sneered. "Now go home and leave us adults alone. You still have a lot to learn."

"I know enough already never to try to make another man break his word," Richard replied hotly. "Ellen, we need to leave, please. I will never bother you again, but come now."

Amused and still unaware of the danger of the situation, Ellen looked at Finney expectantly. He did not disappoint her.

"Why, you damned little whippersnapper! If you don't leave us alone, I will have to teach you a lesson!"

Mrs. Binnings, alarmed by the raised voices arrived.

"Gentlemen, please, there is no need for such a behaviour."

"Well, there is," Finney continued to rant. "This goddamned son of a lousy upstart is annoying the young lady here."

"Well, she arrived with him..." Mrs Binnings began, but she was interrupted.

Richard had felt the blood drain from his face, and in a fraction of a second he had known that there was no way out of this situation. What followed was just inevitable. His voice was flat and without emotion as it should be.

"Mr. Finney, you have insulted me and my family, and I demand satisfaction for that. You may expect my friend tomorrow."

Ellen stared stupidly at the two men who would have to kill each other now. Finney was taken aback for a second, but then he shrugged. Significantly, there was no mocking in his voice anymore.

"I shall expect your friend, Sir," he answered politely and bowed formally.

"Why, my dear Ellen, thank you for ruining a perfect evening," Mrs. Binnings said caustically. "I must ask you to leave, now."

Just then, Ellen noticed the looks of disapproval from all sides.

"But what did I do?" she asked, still confused.

"You just caused the death of young Mr. Carter, stupid girl! Do you think he can face James Finney in a duel and survive?"

The blood shot into Ellen's face as she realised the consequences of her actions.

"We must stop them," she whispered. "I will talk to them. There must be a way out of this."

She tried to rush after Finney, but Mrs. Binnings held her back.

"There is no way back. Just leave now, before you make things even worse."

Finney was gone, and Ellen looked for Richard. He was at the hat check, waiting with her cloak. He did not say a single word while he helped her into the cloak, nor during the coach ride or even when he delivered her at the Wilkes' door.

Lucy was alarmed when she saw the faces of the two young people, but Richard just turned wordlessly and left.

"What on earth happened, Ellen," Lucy demanded.

"Richard challenged James Finney," Ellen whispered, not trusting her voice.

"Oh dear god! Why?"

"Richard wanted us to leave, but I didn't want yet. So I asked Mr. Finney to help me, and then they quarrelled."

Lucy was pale. "You provoked two men to kill each other, stupid girl?"

"Don't say that!" Ellen cried. "Mr. Finney became really mean all of a sudden and insulted Richard."

"Go up to your room, Ellen. God help you if Richard is killed. Go!"

Ellen did not sleep at all during the night. Her confusion only became deeper with every minute. She tossed on her bed until Ricky woke up to check on his mistress. Stroking the dog's head, Ellen relaxed slightly. That had been a wonderful day when Richard had brought her the dog. He had been so eager to please her that she had forgiven him. Just then, full realisation washed over her for the first time: the young man she used to care so much for would be dead in a few days, because of her! Because she had wanted to test the limits of his patience with her. Out of spite. Because she could do it.

She remembered Lady Carter's words now, 'You know, you have the power to make men happy beyond measure or desperate beyond hope.' She had used her power for the worst.

'Oh my god, Lady Carter!' she thought. Kind and friendly Harriet Carter, who had taken her in, trusted her, opened her heart to her! What would she think of her now?

The latter question was answered early in the morning when Ellen's door sprang open and Harriet Carter rushed in, her green eyes blazing with a hatred that made Ellen recoil.

"You evil, murderous girl! Is this what you wanted? Is this how you will extract your revenge on my son? You promised that you had forgiven him! Don't you care for anybody? What have I ever done to you? Or my husband, or Eleanor? Nothing! We took you in, we cared for you. And now you go and have my son killed, you treacherous tart! The hell will have you for this!"

Lucy came in and comforted her friend, leading her out of the room, not without casting an accusing look at her stepdaughter.

Ellen sat stock still. The monstrosity of the accusations petrified her, but her mind whirled. Of course, she thought, that's what she would think! That's what everybody would think, that she had engineered the incident to extact revenge for the attempted rape. That was not true! She had forgiven him. She had been so thankful when he rescued her, and she cared for him.

Why did she reject him, then? Vanity! Her vanity had made her reject him. It felt so good to see him come back to her whenever she had snubbed him. The oldest son of this oh-so-wonderful family was her abject slave. Now, and with a searing pain, she realised that she would never find a man like him again. She had lost him, whether he survived the duel or not. She had ruined her own life, and everybody else's, too.

Lucy voice broke into her train of thoughts.

"Get up and dress, Ellen."

"What for? I made a mess out of my life."

"Get up! Don't you wallow in self pity now! Think of Richard and how he must feel!"

That was the final straw for Ellen. She cringed and rolled into a tight ball with a keening wail that would not end. Good hearted Lucy was unable to maintain her posture of angry mother and sat down on the bed, putting Ellen's head in her lap. When Ellen finally stopped the wailing and began to breath normally, she asked the same question time and again.

"Why was I ever born?"

Lucy did not have an answer to that.

-------

Meanwhile, the modalities for the duel had been fixed. A friend of the family had visited Mr. Finney and his second to relay Richard's choice of a weapon. He had opted for the sword, knowing that he had no chance whatsoever if it came to pistols. The seconds had reluctantly agreed, but both sides insisted on the "first blood" rule, meaning that the duel would end when one of the opponents suffered a serious wound.

Richard had been taken aside by his father and together, the practised with the sword. Then they had gone through many possible situations and possible responses. After that, Sir Anthony had insisted on yet another practice. When Richard and his father faced off, the elder Carter stepped forward and handed Richard his own magnificent Toledo sword.

"You are worthy of it, Richard, and you will make good use of it. He will use a lighter sword. He will think that he will be faster that way. He will not just try to hit you. He will want to show his superiority. You have to expect much fancy swordplay. Don't let that rattle you. Just remember, he will never be able to deflect this good blade with a fancy small sword. This blade will also add another three inches to your reach. When the right opening presents, aim truly and go into your riposte."

For the entire day, Sir Anthony shielded his son from the women. Both Harriet and Eleanor were beside themselves, and Richard did not need to see their despair. Richard spent a fitful night, tossing about in his bed. In the end, he was relieved to see the light of dawn. He dressed carefully in the clothes Mrs. Blacket had laid out the day before. His father was ready, too, when he walked downstairs. Lady Carter and Eleanor stood there, fighting tears. After a brief hug, Richard and his father left.

On the way, they picked up Sir Jonathan Wilkes, who had promised to attend the affair to patch up any wounds without delay. They arrived first at the designated location. Shortly afterwards, a coach with James Finney and his seconds arrived. The opponents did not acknowledge each other, as was proper. Both parties quickly settled on a suitable spot, Sir Anthony being anxious to proceed before Richard's nerves became frayed. Then the two fighters drew blank, dropping the sheaths, and faced each other. Finney's second then asked the two opponents to reconcile, but he received no answer.

Richard Carter watched his opponent. A strange calmness had overcome him once he faced Finney. Like his father had taught him, he began to focus on the left chest of his opponent. This was where his own survival lay. He lifted the wonderful, shiny blade and saw Finney staring at it. Then the tips of the swords touched, and the duel was on.

Finney lunged immediately and barely had the time to jump back before the whirling Toledo blade. Richard had countered with a wide swing, making it clear from the start that he had the range advantage. Finney now began to celebrate what Richard's father referred to as fancy swordplay. Dashing forward, lunging half-heartedly, in short, demonstrating all the moves learned in years on the planche. Richard followed his father's advice and bided his time, waiting for an opening. As predicted, Finney began to hiss insults at Richard, but the young man found himself beyond such hamfisted tricks. From time to time, he swung the long blade in a deadly arc, impacting heavily on the small sword of his opponent. After a few repeats of that, Finney finally closed in. With two fast steps forward he lunged at Richard, expecting the counter swing. However, this time, Richard deflected the small blade to the left and went into the riposte. He felt a searing pain in his left shoulder where Finney's deflected blade hit him, but his own straight thrust pierced James Finney's chest. It was the classic coup des deux veuves - a reckless attack and simultaneous counter attack that could leave two widows.

The seconds rushed to interfere, and Richard let go of the sword hilt. Finney's sword lay on the ground, but the long straight Toledo blade was stuck in the older man's body, with the tip protruding four inches from his back.

There was Dr. Wilkes. After a quick look at Richard's shoulder, he knelt at James Finney's side. One look showed him that the man was mortally wounded. Finney looked down at the sword blade in his chest.

"Would you believe it? The damned whippersnapper bested me!" were his last, whispered words.

Dr. Wilkes stood up and looked at Richard's wound. There was a puncture in the shoulder, but the bleeding was moderate. Obviously, no artery was damaged. With practised movements, Dr. Wilkes cut away the shirt and then applied a bandage to the wound. He would have to place some stitches there later, but not here. Then he helped Richard to his feet. James Finney's seconds approached and bowed solemnly.

"The honour of both parties has been satisfied," one of them declared and handed the bloodstained sword back to Richard.

Gritting his teeth, Richard returned the bow, as did his own seconds. Finney's seconds turned to organise the transport of their slain client, and Richard felt himself in the bear hug of his father.

"My god, Richard! Don't ever do this again, lest you want to kill your mother and me."

Realisation sunk in on Richard. He had survived. His eyes drifted to the body of James Finney, and the shock registered. He had killed a man. A man who had fun two days ago, had laughed and danced. Now he was dead, felled by his, Richard Carter's hand.

"Oh please God, what did I do?" he gasped.

Sensing his son's distress, Sir Anthony quickly led him towards the coach. Sir Jonathan and the seconds followed, and a sombre group returned home.

Ellen Trilby had sat on hot coals the whole night and morning. She had not slept for two days. She had heard her stepfather leave the house, knowing he would attend the duel and try to safe Richard's life. Ellen fervently wished that her stepfather's renowned skills could avert the worst.

After three hours, his coach returned, and Ellen sneaked out of her room and down the stairs. Then she heard her stepmother's anxious voice, but she could not understand the words. The only thing she understood was her stepfather saying. "Dead. Right through the chest. Not a thing to do. He was dead within a minute." Then some words she could not understand, followed by Lucy's, "Oh god, the poor boy!"

A numbness spread over Ellen's body. She tried to swallow, but not a drop of saliva was left in her mouth. There was no way she could live with this enormous guilt, she realised. Quietly, she walked upstairs and into her room. There was the silk shawl Lady Carter had bought for her.

'How fitting!' she thought bitterly.

Stepping on a chair, she tied the end of the shawl to a fixture in the ceiling that had once held a chandelier. Breathing deeply, she tied the other end around her own neck and checked the knots. Having satisfied herself that the knots held, she kicked the chair to the side.



-------

Chapter 7: Healing the Wounds



Sir Jonathan was thoroughly drained. He had come from the Carters' house where he had tended Richard's wound. Lucy waited for him when he entered the door. Not trusting his voice, he whispered.

"Richard is alive. He's wounded, but not severely."

"Thank God!" Lucy whispered, overcome with emotion. "And Finney?"

Dr. Wilkes found his voice again.

"Dead. Right through the chest. Not a thing to do. He was dead in a minute." His voice cracked again. "Poor Richard took it hard. He is devastated over killing a man."

"Oh god, the poor boy!" Lucy exclaimed. Then she rushed into her husband's arms, needing the comfort. For a minute or two, they stood, finding comfort in each other. Then, Lucy sighed.

"I better tell Ellen. Maybe she'll stop crying then."

She rushed upstairs and barged into Ellen's room. A split second later, her scream made Jonathan Wilkes' blood freeze, and he ran upstairs, taking two steps at a time. He found his wife holding up the limp body of their stepdaughter as high as she could. Jonathan Wilkes jumped to his wife's help. With shaky fingers, he found a pen knife in his coat pocket and cut the shawl. Another precise cut, and the part around Ellen's neck fell apart. They placed her on the bed and Sir Jonathan checked her breath with a mirror. Nothing! Taking her face in his hands and stretching her head back, he drew a deep breath, placed his mouth over the girl's and exhaled. He saw her chest move and repeated the process. He was rewarded with a violent cough by Ellen, followed by rasping breath. Still, it took a minute before Ellen opened her eyes. Seeing her stepparents she began to cry.

"Why did you do this? I can't live when Richard is dead. Please, let me die!"

Her voice was hoarse and her words barely intelligible.

Lucy shook the girl.

"Ellen, he is alive! Yes, Richard is alive. He is at home. He was slightly wounded, but he will recover. There is no reason for you to kill yourself."

Ellen looked up.

"But you said he was stabbed through the chest," she cried at her stepfather.

"Not him, Ellen, it's Finney who died," he said with a grim voice.

"Richard killed him?"

"Yes, and he does not take it lightly, I'm afraid."

"That's my fault, too."

"Maybe a little, Ellen, but it was mostly his own doing. He insulted Richard," Sir Jonathan said reasonably.

"I will prepare a calming tea for you, Ellen," Lucy said. "You need to sleep now. In a few days, when everyone has calmed a little bit, you will make apologies to those you treated badly. I imagine poor Richard will also need to sleep after his ordeal."

"That reminds me. Lucy," Jonathan interjected, "Harriet asked whether you could prepare one of yours teas for Richard to help him sleep. Perhaps, when you can make something for Ellen, too. She did not sleep for days, did she?"

Ellen shook her head.

"Ellen, will you be all right while I go over to the Carters? Can I trust you not do anything desperate?"

Ellen was quiet. Did she want to live? Richard had survived. However, another man had died and she would have to face the fact that she had alienated almost everyone she knew. Her doubts must have been evident, for her stepfather gently took one arm and then the other and tied them securely to the bed frame. Then he did the same with her feet. Lucy looked her question.

"Just making sure, dear. Things will look different for her when she's had some sleep. Ellen, we will leave the door open. Try to sleep. If you need anything, call. Lucy and I will try to be with you as much as possible."

"Lucy, can I ask you for something?" Ellen asked meekly.

"Yes, of course."

"Will you ask Richard to allow me to see him? Just for a minute. If he says no, ask him to remember the morning when he came to my room. He will know then."

"Ellen, I will try. It's not just Richard, though. In fact, Richard will be easy compared with Harriet. I'll do my best, though. Is this so important to you?"

"I need to see him, please!"

Lucy nodded. When she reached her kitchen, she had to sit first. The shock of seeing Ellen hanging from the ceiling finally got to her. After a few minutes, she collected herself with an effort. She gathered a few ingredients and mixed herbs to prepare a calming tea and a mild sleep potion. She contemplated taking her husband's coach but decided against it;she needed the exercise of walking to clear her mind. It would be difficult to persuade Harriet to allow Ellen a visit to her home. She thought of ways to convince her friend but she remained dubious.

She arrived at the Carters' house, and was met by a red eyed Harriet who hugged her violently.

"Oh Lucy, I am so happy. My son lives."

She began to sob in Lucy's arms who patted her head soothingly.

"I can't say how happy I was when Jonathan told me," Lucy whispered. Then she remembered what happened next, and she began to cry herself, leaning heavily into Harriet.

"What is it, Lucy? You are so pale, tell me." Harriet looked at her friend with worry.

"Right after Jonathan told me about Richard I went up to Ellen's room to tell her the good news," here, Harriet's eyes became hard, "the girl has not slept nor eaten for two days. I came into her room," Lucy's voice became a hoarse whisper, "and she had hanged herself."

To Harriet, these words came like a physical blow. She could hear herself screaming at Ellen the morning before, when she had vented her anguish and fear. Before she could say a word, Lucy regained her voice.

"I only remember I screamed the house down and lifted her up. Then Jonathan came running and cut her down. She did not breath anymore, but Jonathan blew into her mouth and she began to cough. Oh god, Harriet, it was so horrible!"

"She's alive, then?" Harriet asked with a catch in her voice.

Lucy nodded.

"Why did she do that?"

"She must have listened in on what Jonathan told me about the duel, but she did not hear it all. She only heard that somebody had been killed, and she assumed it was Richard."

"And you came here to help me with Richard? Oh, Lucy, I do not deserve a friend like you."

Instinctively, Lucy seized the moment.

"Harriet, will you do something for us?"

"Anything, Lucy, you know that."

"Please wait before you commit yourself. Ellen asks for a minute to talk to Richard. She said something strange, that he should remember the morning when he came to her room."

Harriet was torn between conflicting emotions. On one hand, she wanted to protect her son against further hurt, on the other hand, she felt bad about the horrible accusations she had hurled against Ellen. Maybe, it was not for her to decide.

"I will speak with Richard; it is for him to decide. Not today, though. He is awfully wrought up. Tell Ellen, I will not oppose her visit, and tell her I will not shout at her."

Lucy quickly hugged her friend. "You are the best, Harriet. This is why I love you so much."

The two women spent a minute to repair the damage to their faces, and went to the kitchen. Lucy left the teas and gave brief instructions for their preparation. To Harriet's surprise, Lucy turned to leave.

"Let us not disturb Richard with my presence. He will think of Ellen if he sees me. Just tell him I was here and I wish him the best, will you? I need to look after Ellen."

"Sure, Lucy, I will ask him tomorrow, and I will send you a note."

Lucy returned home and rushed upstairs. Jonathan was sitting on a chair beside Ellen's bed and tried to coax her into eating a buttered toast. He was not overly successful. When Lucy entered, Ellen looked at her pleadingly. Lucy sat at Ellen's other side and took her bound hand.

"I did not talk to Richard; I thought it better to let him rest. I spoke to Harriet, though. She will ask Richard herself."

Lucy saw disappointment and resignation in Ellen's eyes.

"Keep your hope up, girl. Harriet did not really mean what she said yesterday morning. She was scared out of her mind. She asked me to tell you that she will try to persuade Richard to see you. She also said that you should not be afraid of her."

Ellen looked at Lucy.

"Did you tell her about me and what I did?"

Lucy nodded. "It came out. I did not plan to, but I had a little breakdown, and Harriet asked me what had happened. She is my best friend, and I could never lie to her."

"Now she'll think I'm a lunatic."

"No," Lucy shook her head, "she knows that you were desperate. Ellen, tomorrow is not going to be easy for you. You will have to face Richard and his family. Once you face your responsibility, though, you will begin to heal, too."

"Do you think I can ever heal?" Ellen asked.

"Yes, I do," Lucy said with conviction. "People can recover from much worse experiences. Believe me, I know. There will be scars as a reminder, no doubt, but the experience will make you understand better, too."

"Do you think you can untie me, please?" Ellen asked, looking openly into Lucy's eyes. "I promise I will not do something foolish."

Lucy looked at her husband and, sensing his approval, loosened the bound hand. Jonathan did the same with the other hand and her feet.

Later, Lucy persuaded her to eat two slices of buttered bread, and drink several cups of tea, but the latter did not have the desired effect. Ellen could not sleep for another night while she racked her brain over what to say to Richard if she had a chance.

With the dawn's first light, Ellen rose and washed herself. She also washed her hair, hoping it would dry in time. It was a symbolic act. There was nothing she could do about the ugly bruises around her neck, she would have to wear a scarf. Then she walked downstairs and sat in the living room, waiting for news from Lady Carter.

Evidently, Harriet Carter had made good on her promise as early as possible. It was only 10 o'clock when a messenger delivered a billet to Lucy. Ellen looked on intently as Lucy opened the envelope and read.

"Get your cloak, girl!" she smiled. "We have a visit to pay."

Trembling, Ellen rushed for her cloak and was back in seconds, practically dragging Lucy out of the house. Too late, she remembered the scarf she had planned to wear. She did not care, though, about the people on the street who stared at the angry blue-red bruises. They arrived at the Carters' house thoroughly winded, and Lucy knocked. Harriet opened the door herself. A long look was passed between her and Ellen, and Harriet shook her head.

"You stupid, stupid girl, come in already!"

Ellen took a deep breath to start her apology, but she was cut short by Harriet.

"Stop right there! After what I hurled at you the day before yesterday, I am in a very bad position to receive any apologies. Save it all for Richard. He has agreed to see you, why I don't know. Oh my god, wait!"

Harriet had finally seen the bruises on Ellen's neck. She rushed upstairs and to her room before returning with a beautiful blue silk scarf which she proceeded to wrap around Ellen's neck.

"No need to upset him even more," she mumbled. "What?"

Ellen's hand was on her arm.

"Thank you," she said earnestly. "You had every right and you still have it to hate me for what I caused. Please, please believe me. Never did I plan to risk Richard's life."

Harriet looked into the girls eyes and nodded.

"Hard as it is, I think I may believe you. Now go!"

Ellen took a deep breath before she walked upstairs. At Richard's door, she paused again. His "Yes!" after she knocked was loud and clear, and she pressed down the handle. She walked quietly to the far end of the bedroom, facing Richard.

"Thank you, Richard, for giving me this chance."

"It is not more than what you did, back then." The wariness in his tone was obvious.

"I will just say my piece and then leave you alone. First, let me say that I am very glad that you survived. Believe me or not, I never intended to imperil your life."

"But you wanted to hurt me and to humiliate me. Why? Is it still about what I tried to do to you? I thought you had forgiven me."

He allowed his anger and disappointment to show.

"But I have!" Ellen cried. This accusation still stung her. "No, I have thought about what I did incessantly. I'm still not sure, but I think there is more than one reason."

"Name one, then, what did I ever do to you?"

"That's just it! You were so nice and gentle, even when I treated you bad. So, I guess, I tested the limits, how bad could I treat you before you stopped caring for me. It tickled my vanity, too. I could treat you bad, and I could get away with it."

"So you wanted to stop me caring for you. Is that it? Why didn't you tell me then? Just a few polite words, like, 'Richard, I don't think that I love you. Please stop visiting me.' "

"But I do love you!" she claimed.

Richard closed his eyes and opened them again.

"You're not making sense, Ellen. If you loved me, why would you want me to stop loving you?"

"I know, I am not making much sense. I haven't slept in three days, and I am close to insanity. Look, Richard, ever since you saved me that morning, everyone around us simply expected us to fall in love. I knew that once you asked me for my hand I would have to accept. How could I refuse? I owe everything to your parents and to you! You know my story. Being forced to marry somebody made me run away before. Here, I could not run away. With your kindness, you and your family tied me down. I don't want to fall in love because I am expected to. Those weeks, before the Tremonts came after me, when you visited me behind your parent's back, we could talk and I felt something growing between us. When you gave me Ricky, I think I loved you already. Then, after you rescued me, and I began to stay at your house, your parents treated me as if I were their daughter in law already. I would love to love you, Richard, but not out of gratitude or to satisfy the expectations of those around us. I want to love you for the right reasons!"

"But we cannot turn the clock back. What happened, happened, Ellen. Do you want to forsake our love because everybody is happy for us? That is crazy!"

Ellen was surprised at the vehemence in his voice. Our love, he had said. She wasn't finished, though.

"There is more, Richard. I'm not so sure that you really love me. Think about it before you answer. Aren't you just trying to make good for your transgression? Aren't you trying to make an honest woman out of me to appease your family, and, foremost, your mother? I listened in on you that evening, when she told you how she was raped. You have to understand that you cannot undo that crime. Even if you put a loving arm around every violated girl on earth, you will not change your mother's past life. And it's lucky you can't. Look at her now! How strong she is, how capable of love and understanding. It's her past that formed her into the wonderful woman and mother that she is."

Richard thought long. Then he looked at Ellen, still standing at the far end of his room. He beckoned for her to come nearer. When she did, hesitantly, he took her hand.

"Ellen, it is true that my parents urged me to try to win your forgiveness. To win back your trust, because that would help me cope with the guilt I felt. As you said, those weeks at the river were wonderful, sitting with you and talking, watching you handle those sheep and playing with Ricky. I lost my heart to you then. Because I realised that behind that beautiful face and body, there was a wonderful woman, too. A woman who was able to ignore what I had done, and ready to see the other me. I'll readily admit that most of the magic was lost once you moved into our house. All of a sudden, it was like being married without the benefits. The Tremonts killed the magic." Richard ended sadly.

"Oh Richard, this is just how I feel! Oh, why didn't I speak to you openly? Then we would have had a chance."

"What are you saying, Ellen? We still have a chance."

"No, we don't, Richard. Be reasonable. I cannot show my face in London anymore. Your parents will much rather strangle me than allow me to see you again."

In contrast to Ellen, Richard had slept a little during the last night. He saw the opening in her defence.

"Although, if my parents were against you, you could love me for the right reasons, couldn't you?"

Ellen was stunned to see her twisted reasoning thrown back into her face. Seeing this, Richard pressed his advantage.

"Just look at it! Everybody expects me to hate you and is convinced that you loath me. There is an even chance that my father will disinherit me if I proclaim my love for you. In her present state of mind, Eleanor will rather pluck your eyeballs than be your bridesmaid. You shouldn't eat anything my mother offers you, either. But still: I want you."

Ellen found herself smiling at his words, but she suppressed it.

"This is no joke matter, Richard. I would never cause you to break from your wonderful family."

Impatiently, Richard shook his head.

"If I cannot have you, what will I do with a family? If they cannot forgive you as I do, they are not so wonderful, after all. I am ready to defy the world for you, Ellen, what say you?"

"You mean it, Richard, don't you," she said, almost in awe.

He looked steadily into her wide open eyes. It was an eternity for him before she nodded.

"I love you, Richard," she said softly.

Richard moved his body to the left and made place for her and pulled her down on the bed. With her head against his good shoulder, he breathed the scent of her hair.

"You feel wonderful, Ellen," he whispered.

"Can I just lie here, Richard? This feels so good, I don't ever want to move."

There was a chuckle deep in his throat.

"Your father will come along later to change the bandage. What do you think he will say?"

"Nothing that could make me move."

His hand caressed her face and her throat.

"Let me take off that scarf, Ellen. I don't want you to be strangled."

Ellen froze as he untied the scarf.

"Isn't that my mother's?" he asked.

Ellen nodded. "Yes, she gave it to me. Richard, you have to know. She did not want to upset you, that's why she gave me the scarf. I have these bruises around my neck."

Alarmed, Richard lifted her face and looked at her throat.

"Who did this to you," he asked, his pulse racing.

"I did, Richard. When my stepfather returned yesterday, I tried to listen to what he told Lucy. The only thing I heard was that someone had been stabbed to death. And then Lucy said, 'The poor boy.' I thought you were dead. So I went to my room and hanged myself."

"You what?" Richard choked.

"I could not live with that guilt," Ellen said simply. "Luckily, Lucy came into my room and they cut me down in time. When I came to, she told me that you were still alive. Don't worry, Richard. I will never do that again. Because I will never treat you badly again. Do you believe me?"

Richard was stunned. "Oh my god! I still almost lost you? Ellen, I'm scared now. This was awfully close for both of us."

"The last days were a nightmare, Richard. Let us make sure this will never happen to us again."

She put her head on his chest again, and the two young people clung to each other. As soon as Ellen calmed down a little bit, the three sleepless nights caught up with her. When Richard first noticed a slight snoring sound from her, he looked down at her face. The tension that had been imprinted on her features had gone, and she looked peaceful. The tenderness he felt for her was overwhelming, and he kissed the top of her head. A fleeting smile passed over her lips and she pressed herself closer against him.

In the meantime, Harriet and Lucy had become worried. At first, there had been the sounds of Ellen's and Richard's argument, but then, everything became quiet. After an hour, the two women could not stand the tension anymore, and they came upstairs. Carefully, Harriet opened the door and looked in. What she saw, caused an intake of breath. Ellen was lying on Richard's bed, fully clothed, her head against his chest, and fast asleep. Richard, his good arm wrapped tightly around the girl's shoulders, was sleeping, too. He woke up, though, when the two women entered.

Heeding the silent plea from her son's eyes, Harriet walked quietly to Richard's bed. The peaceful image of the two lovers was not lost on her.

"Do you still love her?" she mouthed, exasperated. Her son's peaceful smile was answer enough.

Lucy was teary eyed again. "She has not slept in three days," she whispered.

Harriet threw up her hands in mock consternation.

"Madness! Utter madness!" Her stage whisper was not loud enough to wake Ellen.

Harriet grabbed a blanket from a closet and used it to cover the sleeping Ellen. Shaking her head at her son, she repeated herself.

"Madness!"

When, four hours later, Jonathan Wilkes arrived to see his patient, he found his wife and her best friend with silly grins on their faces.

"Don't worry, darling," Lucy giggled, "Harriet and I may have had a few glasses of sherry, but we sorely needed it. The world is a madhouse, my dear Jonathan."

Jonathan Wilkes did not know what to make out of his wife's demeanour.

"Well, I came to look after Richard," to which both women burst out in giggles again.

Shaking his head, he went upstairs, knowing his way. He noticed that Harriet and Lucy were following him, giggling like schoolgirls, while he opened Richard's bedroom door. He had no way of being prepared for the sight of his adopted daughter sleeping peacefully in the arms of an equally sleeping Richard. His mouth hung open for a second, a sight that made Lucy and Harriet double over with laughter.

"What is this?" poor Jonathan Wilkes asked the room at large.

"Madnesh, udder madnesh, " Harriet stated.

"I'm tempted to agree," Jonathan said weakly.

His voice woke Richard who looked sheepish for a second.

"She fell asleep," he whispered.

"So I see," the good doctor said. "Would it trouble you much to explain why she did that on your bed? No, no, I don't want to know! I will just change your bandage and be gone."

Some time during the process of renewing the bandage, however, Ellen woke up. When her eyes focussed on her stepfather, she gave him an apologetic smile.

"Father, don't be mad. I fell asleep talking to Richard."

"And what were you doing, lying on his bed?"

"Sir Jonathan," Richard said firmly, "I am in love with your daughter, and I have reason to believe that she returns my feelings."

Ellen nodded her assent.

"I would ask you to look favourably upon my proposal."

"This is not something to decide here and now, Richard. We know you, of course, and we like you at lot. Give this more time. Ask me again in a month, and we will discuss it."

Ellen tugged on Richard's arm. "Ask him on Christmas Eve! He can't deny a wish on Christmas Eve!"

Sir Jonathan had to smile in spite of himself. Ellen's exuberance after those last days was heart warming, but he had to dampen it.

"Ellen, you still have a few fences to mend, don't you think? Like, with Richard's father and sister, and his mother. That is, when she will be sober again," he added with a smile.

Ellen's face fell when the memory of the last days came back, and she looked contrite.

"I know. I also thought I should write a letter of apology to Mrs. Binnings, I ruined her soiree. And another one to Mr. Finney's family."

She looked at Lucy. "Will you help me with those letters? I don't want to break any more china."

Lucy nodded and smiled. "Of course I will. I think it is time we left, isn't it, Jonathan?"

Harriet did not want to end the evening, yet. She felt exuberant.

"Why don't you sstay for dinner? Lushy and I need to ssober up."

"I'll say," Jonathan sighed, but not entirely averse to spending the evening at the Carters'.

"May I stay with Richard until dinner?" Ellen begged.

"Only if you get off the bed," Jonathan insisted, feeling that things had gone a little bit far already. "Richard, if you feel like it, you can get up for dinner, too. You did not loose all that much blood, and being up should do you good."

Ellen got up obediently, and Richard groaned as the blood circulation returned to his right arm. While Jonathan Wilkes and the two women left, Ellen sat on a chair by the window.

"Ellen, would you look out the window for a moment?" Richard asked. "I am only wearing a shirt."

While Ellen looked to the window, Richard got up gingerly, took off his shirt and put on a fresh one and trousers. When he told Ellen that he was ready, she did not turn around at once. When she did, she had a look of trepidation.

"It's really big."

"What is big?" Richard asked confused.

"Your... thing... maleness... is big."

"You peeked?"

"The window panes reflected your image," she said shyly. "I remember it, too, from that time, you know, when you knelt down before me. It's fearsome. It will hurt me."

"From what I heard, it hurts only the first time. Babies come out there, too, and it's not as big as a baby."

"I know that, I herded sheep, remember? I have seen it when the ram mounts the ewe. I also know how big I am down there and how big you are... down there. It's not going to fit."

Richard did not know how to reply. He would have liked to point out that he had in fact tried it already and that he had met with approval by the women involved. When he had turned sixteen, his father had taken him to an upscale etablissement where an older girl had shown him the ropes. Sir Anthony was of the opinion that a growing boy had to learn about such matters to become a skilful lover and husband.

"Have you ever used your thing on a woman?" Ellen asked hesitantly, matching his own train of thoughts in an uncanny way.

Richard nodded, bracing for the storm he expected.

"Didn't it hurt them?"

Richard shook his head. "They were used to it, and they seemed to enjoy it."

"Were they courtesans?"

Again, Richard only nodded.

"I am no courtesan, Richard."

Richard had to smile, in spite of himself. He took Ellen's hand.

"Ellen, love, don't you think that all courtesans start out as innocent girls, too? I'll tell you something. Lucy is a wonderful woman. Just between us, she has answered a few of my own questions that I did not dare to ask my parents. Ask her."

Ellen's eyes got big. "Ask her things like that?"

"Yes, absolutely. She can set your mind at ease and give you advice. I don't want to brag, really, but the courtesans have taught me a variety of ways to make my woman happy. Trust me, Ellen, I will try my utmost to make you enjoy our love."

Ellen looked at him and was touched by his earnest desire to comfort her.

"I know you will, darling. It's just so big. Do you think I can see it again? Maybe it's only my imagination."

Richard looked at the door nervously.

"Let us go into the dressing room. I don't want us to be caught by a servant."

They walked into the adjoining dressing room, and Richard opened the front flap of his trousers. His half engorged member almost jumped out from the confines, and Ellen gasped.

"It's much bigger than a ram's, that's for sure."

Tentatively, she reached out with her hand. When she touched the shaft, it felt hot to her touch. She closed her hand around it, mesmerised, and she felt it twitch in her hands. Looking up into Richard's face, she saw that his eyes were half closed and his breath was ragged.

"It feels so soft, but yet it's hard. Is it like this when you mount a woman?"

"Yes," Richard sobbed. The feeling of Ellen's hand on his member was almost too much. He began to thrust his hips against her grip.

"Am I hurting you, Richard?"

"No, Ellen, but if you keep squeezing it, I will spend my seed."

"Squeeze, like this?" Ellen whispered, tightening her grip.

"Aaargh!" was all Richard managed to answer as his seed shot forth, splattering Ellen blouse.

"Oh dear," she said in awe, "oh dear."

Suddenly, she felt her face in the grip of his hands and his lips pressed against hers. His tongue snaked between her lips and she felt their breath mingle. Her hair began to stand up and then an intense wave of heat cursed through her body. She swooned, barely able to stand on her legs, when he finally let go of her lips. Panting heavily, she put her hand on his cheek, only to realise that it was smeared with his seed. That broke the spell and she giggled.

"Oh dear, we need to clean up."

Hastily, and using some water from the wash basin, they cleaned Ellen's blouse. A large wet spot, was the result. Grinning, Richard poured some tea over the same spot.

"I made you laugh while you were tasting the tea, and you spilled tea over your front," he instructed her.

They quickly searched the dressing room for other incriminating evidence of their indiscretion. When they were satisfied that nothing would betray them, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Is it always that much?" Ellen asked curiously.

Richard did not know how to answer that, and he blushed.

"I did not hurt you, did I?" Ellen asked.

"No, you did not hurt me, Ellen. Your touch made me lose all control, though. And you? How do you feel about the mess I made?"

"Maybe I should take off my blouse the next time," Ellen mused, then she blushed. "I don't know what came over me to say that. I'm still confused. Your kiss made me lose all control, too. This is love, isn't it."

Richard reached for her and kissed her tenderly. "If this is not love, there is no love in the world."

A knock on the door made them step part. It was one of the maids, Bess.

"Dinner is served, Master Carter," she announced and retreated. They heard her giggle through the closed door.

Taking Ellen's hand, Richard led her downstairs and to the dining room. The left shoulder did not bother him much, he noticed, and it was good to be up again. It had been very good, to be up, he thought with an inward grin. When they entered the dining room, they were met with contrasting feelings. Eleanor shot daggers at Ellen. Her mother's hand on her arm obviously restricted her from getting up. Sir Anthony looked at the young couple with a mixture of amusement and desperation. It was he, however, who set the group at ease with a jest. He looked pointedly at Ellen's bruised neck.

"Dear god, Harriet, when you said you wanted to strangle the girl, you meant it, didn't you?"

That made Harriet and Lucy burst out in laughter. Ellen didn't know for a moment whether to hide in a corner or to laugh, but then the bubble burst and she laughed with the others.

Eleanor was the only one whose eyes remained hard. She had not believed her ears when her mother had told her that Richard had forgiven Ellen, had even spoken for her with Sir Jonathan. She thought she understood; she thought that Ellen, using her beauty and perhaps some faux plea of innocence, had wrapped her love sick brother around her little finger again. She would hurt him again, the ungrateful wench. Eleanor felt betrayed by Ellen whom she had given her friendship from the start, and she was unforgiving. There were other reasons, as well. Both girls had debuted in society this fall and had gone to several functions together. In the beginning they had fun together, but then, when Ellen's head began to swell from all the adoration she received, she had started to talk down to Eleanor on occasion, causing her hurt.

When dinner was finished, the Wilkes prepared to leave. Saying their good byes, Ellen tried to hug Eleanor, but the younger girl stepped back angrily, her green eyes reduced to slits.

"Just leave me be if you know what's good for you," she hissed venomously.

"Eleanor, to your room! I'll deal with you presently!" Lady Carter was angry.

"No, please, Lady Carter," Ellen implored, "do not punish Eleanor on my behalf. She has a good reason to be angry with me. I failed her, too, and I haven't offered her an apology yet." She looked at the younger girl. "Eleanor, can I please speak with you in private one of the next days? I know I have been shallow, but I ask you to give me a chance and hear me out. Will you do that?"

It was positively infuriating, Eleanor thought, how this girl could look into her eyes and melt away the anger she felt against her. Swallowing, she nodded.

After a shy smile towards Eleanor, Ellen hugged Richard and followed her parents. She almost fell asleep on the coach ride home, but she made a point to hug Lucy and Jonathan before she went to her room.

The stain on her blouse was still visible, she noticed, and she had to giggle at the memory of Richard's member pulsing in her hand. She undressed completely and put on a fresh nightshift. Once in bed, she had to think of Richard, and she felt a warm tingle. Again, she worried whether she would be able to be a good wife to him. Lifting up the hem of her shirt, she probed the narrow entrance to her sex with her finger. To her surprise, the finger easily slipped in, unlike her earlier attempts. She noticed that she was moist there which clearly helped, but her lips were also slightly more puffy and opened easily. Her fingers were tiny, though, compared with the massive member that she had held in her hand.

She would have to ask Lucy, she decided. She would not risk to be a disappointment for Richard. She probed her lips some more, surprised at the changed texture of her opening. When her finger touched the upper end of her lips, she jolted. What had she done? Tentatively, she touched that area again, and she felt a small protrusion near the joining of her nether lips that was very sensitive to her touch. The sensation was not unpleasant, she decided, but she had to be careful. She pulled her hand up and her hem down. Her fingers felt moist and sticky, but they did not smell of pee, she found. The smell rather made her feel the same weakness she had felt when Richard kissed her. She definitely had to talk with Lucy. Maybe something was wrong with her. With that resolve, she finally fell asleep.



-------

Chapter 8: A Loving Family



Unfortunately, or fortunately, Lucy was very busy the next morning, and there was no opportunity for Ellen to speak with her in private. After lunch, Lucy had to visit one of the governors of the hospital where Sir Jonathan performed his pro bono publico work. Lucy was very good at this behind the scenes work, letting the wealthy sponsors bask in the public praise, but keeping the hospital going for her husband. It was this pro bono work as well as his naval service that had earned Jonathan his knighthood. Lucy, on her part, enjoyed the good she could do, but also the friendship with some very important families who needed her talent for the charities they liked to attach their names to.

Ellen was left to her own resources. She had written two letters already, one to apologise to Mrs. Binnings for her behaviour, and another one to one Lord Wynchelsea, older brother and sole relative of James Finney. She wrote that she regretted being the subject of the quarrel that had been the cause of the fatal duel, and blamed her own inexperience and lack of tact for it. However, she was uncertain whether the letters were in good tact, and she could not ask Lucy. On a whim, she put the letters in a bag, threw on a cloak and a scarf and walked over to the Carters. Luckily, Lady Carter was there to receive her and she asked whether she would be kind enough to have a look at those letters.

Harriet decided to help her, partly out of her good heart, and partly to see whether Ellen really regretted what she had done. She was surprised at how summarily Ellen had taken the blame for the quarrel.

"That is a little bit strong, dear," she said after reading the letter to Lord Wynchelsea. "After all, you did not tell Finney to be rude and insulting. He could have made his point without resorting to insulting language. You should rephrase that. The letter to Mrs. Binnings is well written, though. If she does not accept this apology, I shall have a word with her."

"Thank you, Lady Carter, for your help."

"Well, Ellen, I have to disappoint you. Richard has left the house with my husband. He is paying his respects to Lord Wynchelsea at Mr. Finney's wake."

"Oh, should I go, too?"

"No, my dear. This is just about the people involved in the duel, like Richard and the seconds. It is to show that there is no ill will between the families anymore."

"Please excuse my asking, but would you have allowed Mr. Finney at Richard's wake?"

Harriet thought about it.

"There would not have been a choice for me, really. But let us not dwell on these morbid thoughts. Is there anything else you want to discuss?"

Ellen swallowed. All of a sudden, an idea hit her.

"Lady Carter, there is something I want to ask you. It is rather personal, and if you prefer not to answer me, please tell me so."

"Yes, carry on, Ellen."

"I wanted to ask Lucy, but I thought maybe you would know more about it since you are married to Richard's father."

Harriet raised her eyebrows.

"You know that I have seen Richard's, ummh, private parts, back then? Oh god, I'm blushing. It's just that it looked so big, and I do not know how it can ever fit into me without tearing me up. I know that men want to do that to their wives and I don't want to be a disappointment to Richard."

Harriet was at a loss for words for once. Then she remembered her own fears when she had first seen her husband's member and she considered what to tell the girl in front of her.

"Well, Ellen, I have not seen Richard in an aroused state, nor have I seen his body up close in the last years, but based on what I remember of him as a boy and based on what I know about his father, it is quite possible that he is, let's just say, well-endowed. My dear girl, that will be a good thing for you! My husband has never caused me pain, but he has made me a very happy woman."

"Not even the first time?" Ellen asked without thinking, and then she wanted to bite her own tongue off, remembering what she had overheard about Harriet Carter's first time.

"You may as well know, Ellen, that I was married once before. Suffice to say, that my first husband hurt me terribly that first time. However, that was because he was a cruel man and a rotten lover. Your first time will hurt you some, but if done right, you will also enjoy it."

"But how can it fit?" Ellen repeated the question that nagged her.

"Are you that narrow, dear?" Harriet asked, suddenly worried that something might be wrong with the girl.

Ellen blushed deeply. "I tried a finger and it would not fit," she whispered.

"Your stepfather could have a look..." Harriet started, but stopped when she saw the mortified look on Ellen's face. "Do you want me to have a look?" she asked sincerely.

"Would you?" Ellen blurted. "I would not want Richard to marry me if I'm malformed."

Harriet led a beet red Ellen to her private study and latched the door.

"Have a seat and relax," she told her, trying to hide her own embarrassment. Could she do this? Could she touch this girl's private parts? There were only three women she had ever touched there, and they had been trusted friends.

"All right, Ellen, I am not going to look. I will feel whether everything down there is as it should be. Are you ready?"

Ellen nodded, taking a deep breath.

Harriet moved her hand up along Ellen's left leg, under her skirt. She felt the upper end of the stockings and, beyond that, soft, warm flesh. The legs of the linen drawer Ellen wore were wide enough for Harriet to wiggle her hand in. She felt fuzzy, soft hair on her palm and took a deep breath. Placing her hand over Ellen's sex, she did not find anything different from her own. Using her middle finger, she traced the soft lips. They were dry and did not open for her prying finger. Ellen held her breath and sat stock still.

"Ellen, my dear, you must relax. How can I probe you if you are all rigid and dry? Here, let me try something."

Hesitantly, Harriet moved the palm of her hand in a soft, circular motion of the girl's mound. She felt hot herself, and her mouth became dry. This was probably not a good idea, after all.

"How does that feel, Ellen?" she whispered.

"Good. Strange, too. What are you trying?"

"Trying to loosen you up. Have you ever touched yourself down here?"

Ellen shook her head. "Just once, to try. I couldn't get my fingers in, though. And yesterday night. There was moisture, and I could get one finger in."

"Hmh, The same thing is happening now. You are getting moist. You have to know that a woman must become very moist for a man to put his maleness in. Let me try now. Do you feel me inside?"

"Yes!" Ellen's breath exploded.

"Let's loosen you up some more," Harriet said calmly, moving her middle finger in and out in a slow movement, but still cupping Ellen's mound with the rest of the hand. "See, it getting easier. Now I am adding my index finger."

Ellen gasped with the added pressure and friction. She did not know what to say. Harriet's ministrations caused something in her that she could not explain.

"There you are, Ellen, now my two fingers fit easily. Give me your hand and feel for yourself."

Harriet guided Ellen's hand under the skirt, and Ellen could feel that her opening could easily accommodate even two fingers. She tried with three fingers, but when she rearranged her hand in the confines of her drawers, she brushed her thumb against the top of her slit and almost jumped up.

"What is it, did you hurt yourself?" Harriet asked concerned.

"I don't know. There is this spot, when I touch it I feel like I cannot breath. Right up here on top of my opening."

"Yes, dear, that would be your pleasure spot. This is where we are very sensitive to loving touches."

Harriet could not resist the temptation and moved her hand to Ellen's button, caressing the lips around it first until she felt the hips of the girl undulate under her touch. A whimper came from Ellen's mouth now, and Harriet slowly moved her thumb over the engorged clitoris, to elicit a deep moan from the girl. Throwing all caution to the wind, Harriet gripped the drawers deftly with two hands and pulled them down. Then she lifted the hem of the skirt and had an unrestricted view on Ellen's treasure trove.

"Do you want me to carry on, dear?" she asked Ellen, who looked down at her with big blue eyes. Ellen nodded as if in trance, and Harriet put her hand on top of Ellen's opening. Again, she let her fingers slid into the girls wetness until they met resistance. Harriet began to feel giddy herself, the smell of the girl's aroused sex was intoxicating.

"Let us try something else," she whispered and knelt between the girl's spread legs.

Bending down, she blew warm air on the girl's love button, eliciting a loud gasp. She blew some more, again inducing a strong response. Unable to stop, Harriet went for the kill. A long swipe of her tongue, from the bottom to the top of the virginal opening, started the assault, followed by taunting little kisses on the engorged clitoris. Ellen's hips began to buck when Harriet sucked on the swollen button, letting her tongue swirl over the sensitive tip. A few minutes of this, and Ellen began to whimper softly, pressing her mons against the probing mouth, and then the girl shuddered and pressed her thighs together. The moisture of Ellen's release ran over Harriet's chin. When Ellen came to, Harriet kissed her cheek and put her hand to the girl's opening.

"See, now my whole hand would fit in. A skilled lover will open you up, and then you can accept even the largest members. Besides, this kind of lovemaking can also bridge the time between engagement and wedding without causing unwanted consequences."

Ellen looked at the older woman with wide eyes, the question openly on her face.

"Yes, my dear," Harriet smiled, "it is not as good as the real thing, but it will leave you a virgin no less."

"I'm glad that I asked you about these matters. I cannot imagine Lucy giving me such an initiation," Ellen said gratefully.

Harriet grinned, but kept her thoughts to herself. Ellen did not have to know that Lucy had been the one to initiate Harriet into the Sapphic lovemaking, two decades ago.

"Now you know what to expect with the right man. Are you still afraid?"

Dazed, Ellen shook her head.

"You see, everything is as it should be down there. Now, you look positively winded. Perhaps you should freshen up."

It was good they ended, because Richard and his father returned just minutes later. Ellen's eyes bugged out of her head when she saw Harriet Carter give a full kiss to her husband. When Sir Anthony's eyebrows shot up, and his nose moved, Ellen blushed crimson.

"We still have at least an hour until dinner. Richard, why don't you entertain Ellen in the living room. I need to speak with your father."

Richard hugged Ellen briefly.

"Hello, darling, I did not hope to see you today. What a pleasant surprise."

He led her towards the living room while an impatient Harriet took her husband's hand and dragged him upstairs. Once in their bedroom, Harriet pushed Tony onto the bed and threw herself on top of him, kissing him fiercely. Anthony Carter was not one to question his luck. Taking his cue, he rapidly stripped his wife of her clothes and then got rid of his own garments. When he started to kiss his way down on her body, Harriet pulled him back up impatiently.

"No, Tony, dear, just get on top of me. I need you inside me now!" she urged him.

Rarely had Tony seen his wife so aroused. The lips of her sex were puffy and oozing fluid. With unrestrained eagerness, he aligned the tip of his member to her opening and pushed into her.

"Aargh!" Harriet gasped when she was filled to the bottom. Her legs closed around her husband's hips, and she tried to press him into her as deeply as possible. Tony responded in kind, pumping into his wife with abandon, until the swishing noises of their coupling mingled with hoarse moans from both lovers.

"Yes, Anthony, darling, pound me! Give me all! Deeper! Deeper! Oh, ah, ah, aaahhh!"

The clenching of her muscles pushed Tony over the edge, too. Spurt after spurt shot from his member deep into the womb of a spasming Harriet.

"Oh my god! Here is another one!" Harriet breathed, almost reverently, clamping down on her husband's softening member. She pushed her husband off her body and climbed on top of him, kissing him passionately. Again, he tasted something familiar. He licked over her lips.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

Giggling, Harriet nodded.

"Did you get together with Lucy?"

Still grinning, she shook her head.

"You would not believe it if I told you," she announced.

"Let us see. I was not away for more than three hours and Ellen was already here, that did not leave you enough time to... No! Really?" he expostulated, comprehension finally coming.

"Yes, my dear. What you just tasted is your sweet, virgin, future daughter in law," Harriet proclaimed with an outrageous grin.

"But how come?"

"She was worried," Harriet began to giggle again. "She has seen our dear son, and it so seems that Richard is as well built as you are. She was afraid Richard would not fit into her. She is completely innocent, the poor lamb. So I agreed to examine her, make sure she is not deformed. I had to show her that, with the right stimulation, she will be able to fit almost anything into her little treasure box."

"How did she like it?"

"Let's just say that I satisfied myself that Richard will have a wife who will fully appreciate the amorous efforts of her future husband."

"Harriet, you are something! But are you certain that you did not steal your son's bride?" Tony chuckled.

"Well, darling, perhaps you can drop a hint to Richard that his bride may appreciate tender caresses. He learned about these things, didn't he?"

"It was part of his curriculum," Tony smiled. "From what I heard, he showed aptness."

"Tony, we still have an hour until dinner. Do you think we could do it again? This felt so good after all the aggravations of the last week."

"Your wish is my command," Tony smiled and aligned his resurrected member to her lower lip. With a sigh, Harriet impaled herself.

Richard and Ellen felt awkward sitting alone in the large living room. They could sit and talk, but they could not show their affection because the maids bustled around frequently. Sensing that his parents were not returning anytime soon, Richard took Ellen's hand.

"Shall we go to my room? We will not have any privacy down here."

"I'd love that, Richard," Ellen answered. Richard led her upstairs. When they reached the second floor, they stopped in their tracks. At first, Richard thought something was amiss. It sounded like his mother cried out in pain. He was about to start to the door of his parents' bedroom, but Ellen held him back.

"Don't you hear, Richard? You must not disturb them now."

"You mean, they are... ?"

Ellen blushed deeply again. She nodded.

"Yes, I think your parents love each other very much."

Just then, they heard a happy squeal, obviously from Harriet, followed by the deep laughter of Tony.

"It sounds like they are enjoying themselves," Richard said, resulting in a suppressed giggle from Ellen. "Let us go to my room."

They opened and closed his bedroom door quietly and sat together on a chaise longue by the window. Ellen rested her head on Richard's chest. For a while they sat silent.

"Are you embarrassed by what we heard?" Ellen asked after a while.

"Well, it came as a surprise to me. I know they love each other to bits, but I somehow never made the connection that they would actually do the things that I dream about."

"You fantasise about... making love?"

"Yes, a lot."

"Who are you making love to in your dreams?"

"Who do you think?" Richard retorted with an embarrassed grin.

"And before you met me?"

"Sometimes Felicity Palmer," he answered cautiously.

"She is very beautiful," Ellen mused. "Her mother has to be the most beautiful woman I ever saw. Don't get me wrong, your mother is beautiful, too, but Lady Brougham is overwhelming."

"Mother told me once, that Lord Brougham fell in love with her within seconds of seeing her for the first time. It wasn't easy for him to convince his parents, though. Aunt Moira's father was but an invalid Marine officer. To top it off, her father had killed Lord Brougham's older brother in a duel. Who happened to be my mother's first husband."

Ellen shook her head. "Your mother could still be friends with Lady Brougham?"

"Mother does not talk much about her first husband. I think now that he was the one who raped her, and they were forced to marry. No wonder she hated him! When he was killed by Aunt Moira's father, she was finally free to marry my father."

"Your mother amazes me," Ellen said in a dreamy voice. "She must have gone through hell, but yet, she is so full of love and tenderness. I asked her some questions before you arrived, about sensitive issues. She was so nice and caring while she explained things to me., although I have caused her so much grief in the last week."

"What did you ask her then?"

"Private matters, Richard. I was worried about certain things, and she assuaged my fears. I envy you, Richard, for your parents. When I grew up, my father was dead, and my mother was very ill already. There was nobody I could ask personal things."

Richard kissed the top of her head.

"We can share my parents," he spoke into her ear.

She sighed, cuddling into his arms. Suddenly, she noticed a pressure against her back.

"You are getting big again, Richard?" she whispered.

"Yes, you have that effect on me. I cannot help it," Richard answered apologetically.

"Don't apologise, darling. I suppose it is just one expression of your love, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I don't want to scare you."

"I am not scared anymore."

"Did you talk with Aunt Lucy, like I said?"

"No, Lucy was gone the entire day. But I asked your mother."

"What?!" he almost shouted, his erection fading rapidly.

"I thought she must know more about that problem because your father must be big, too, and she is so slender."

Richard could only babble incoherently.

"Don't fuss, darling. She was very nice and understanding, and she taught me that I need to be stimulated down there. Then I will get moist and relaxed, and you will fit in, as big as you are."

"You talked to her about that?"

"Yes. I would have been mortified to speak about that with Lucy. Do you know how to stimulate a woman to become relaxed?"

"Hrhm, yes, I think so."

"That's good. I want us to be as happy together as your parents. I think I already know how to stimulate you," she added smugly.

The memory of her hand on his member made Richard rock hard in a second. Ellen could not help but giggle. She screwed her head around and pulled Richard's head down. While they kissed, she turned around, now lying face to face with him. She could feel his hardness against her stomach, and it excited her.

"Do you want me to squeeze it again?"

Richard held his breath and nodded. Gingerly, Ellen propped herself up and opened the flap of his trousers. With her right hand, she gripped the shaft and squeezed it lightly. She saw a bead of liquid forming at the tip.

"You are getting moist, too," she whispered. She thought of Harriet's lips on her love button and placed a kiss on the tip, tasting the clear liquid. Richard groaned and closed his eyes.

"Do you like that?" she whispered, placing another kiss on the sensitive glans.

"Oh yes," Richard groaned again. "Be careful, though. I may spend any second if you keep doing that."

"I want to feel it again," Ellen whispered, and released his member. Quickly, she opened the buttons of her blouse, and took it off. Then she pushed the straps of her undergarment over her shoulders and down her arms and pushed everything down to her waist. Richard stared in awe at two well-rounded, milky-white breasts. Ellen bent down again, gripping his twitching member. She pressed it against her chest and between her breasts, stroking it softly. After a few minutes of soft stroking, she increased the pressure of her fingers, and after a few strokes, she could feel the pulsing. A moment later, strings of hot white semen shot from Richard's member and against her breasts. She felt dizzy with lust while she rubbed the softening shaft against her hard nipples.

Richard shuddered at the exquisite sensation of her soft white breasts on his manhood. He bent down as far as he could to kiss Ellen's head. Ellen looked up at him and smiled happily.

"That was nice, wasn't it?"

"Nice is not the word I would use," Richard replied weakly. "It was more like unbelievable and breathtaking. Ellen, you know that I have been with women before, with courtesans, don't you?"

Ellen nodded.

"I want you to know that not even the most skilled courtesan compares with you. I have never felt lust like I did today."

"Thank you, I think," Ellen responded, not entirely sure whether she wanted to be compared with a courtesan. "I'm getting cold, dear. I think I should clean myself."

"Let me do it, please," Richard volunteered. He slipped off the chaise longue from underneath Ellen and over to the wash stand. He brought the wash basin and a cloth and lovingly cleaned Ellen's chest. Her nipples stood up proudly when the wet cloth rubbed over them, and Ellen felt excitement rise up inside her. When he had cleaned her, she wanted to slip up her undergarments, but Richard stayed her hand. Bending over her, his mouth began to place small kisses all over her chest. He avoided the erect nipples first, kissing the soft underside of her breast, and the sides up to her armpits. Her breathing became heavy then and Richard switched his attention to the hard nipples that stood out from the smallish areolas.

"Oh, Richard," Ellen sighed when he began to suck on them, letting his tongue swirl over the sensitive skin. She felt his hand on her leg, too, moving along the calves first, and then up the inside of her thighs. She drew a sharp breath when his hand reached the naked flesh atop her stockings, and she whimpered when his hand snaked into her pants. He found her sex almost dripping with moisture, and he eagerly massaged her mound with the flat of his hand. Her hips responded to the touch and moved in small circles against his hand.

His mouth was still doing its magic on her nipples when Ellen felt his thumb on her pleasure spot.

"Richard! That spot, it's ahh, it's making me feel so good."

Grinning inwardly, Richard continued to suckle on her delicious breasts while he assaulted her centre of lust with his thumb. The combined assault on her senses soon brought on a shuddering release that drained Ellen completely. When she was done shaking, she became completely limp. Worried, Richard took her face in his hands.

"Ellen, are you all right?"

Slowly, her blue eyes opened, staring at him in disbelief.

"I think you killed me," she whispered.

"Did I make you feel good, my love?" Richard asked softly.

Ellen could only nod.

"We must dress you now, darling," he whispered. Again, she only nodded, feeling unable to move her limbs. It was Richard, who covered her chest with the undergarment and helped her with the blouse. With the wet cloth, he also cleaned her crotch and thighs, causing aftershocks in her. When he found her presentable again, he resumed his former position behind her and cradled her in his arms.

A knock on the door made them bolt up and sit straight.

"Yes?" Richard called, after clearing his throat.

"Richard, I want to... Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't..."

It was Eleanor. She noticed the musky smell in the room at once and unconsciously she knew what it transpired. Richard and Ellen were both dressed properly, but their posture was that of a couple caught in flagranti.

"Oh dear me," Eleanor gasped. "Richard, open the windows before Mother comes in! Ellen, let me do your hair, quick!"

While Richard bolted up to open the windows, Eleanor knelt down and began to erase the traces of the heated lovemaking from Ellen's hair and face. Suddenly, she saw Ellen's calm gaze and remembered the issues between them. Self-consciously she dropped her hands, but Ellen took them and planted a kiss on her fingers.

"Eleanor, you are a darling," she smiled. "You are every bit as wonderful as your mother!"

"I don't know about that," Eleanor mumbled. "I was pretty mean to you."

"Maybe on the outside, but a mean person would have called Richard's parents instead of trying to help us cover up. Eleanor, I want you to be my friend again. Can you forgive my horrible behaviour, please?"

"Ellen, why did you behave that way?"

"I was confused and scared. Everything was new to me, and I felt cornered. You were all so friendly and helpful to me, but I felt I did not have a word in my own future anymore. Everything appeared to be preordained. Instead of standing up for my own, I tried to push you away. It was stupid, and it almost ruined everyone I loved. I am deeply sorry."

"What happened to your neck?"

Ellen swallowed. "When I realised what I had done, I felt my life was pointless. The final straw was when I overheard a conversation and thought that Richard had died in the duel. I could not live with this enormous guilt and I wanted to end it. Luckily, Lucy found me in time and they cut me down."

Eleanor nodded. "I think I understand. Ellen, I want to be your friend. But don't ever be so stupid again. Can you promise that?"

When Harriet Carter opened her son's bedroom door, she saw her daughter in a tight hug with Ellen and heaved a relieved sigh. She had been worried to find her son and Ellen under compromising circumstances, and she wanted to chide them. It was certainly not proper for them to go to his room alone, but it was not as bad with Eleanor in presence. She thought she detected a whiff of a musky smell in the air, but that could be her own body, she thought, grinning inwardly. It had been quite a day.

"Ellen, my dear, much as we enjoy your presence here, I think it were best for you to return home, lest you worried poor Lucy. Are you finished with Eleanor?"

The two young women got up and gave each other another hug. Richard stood up from the chair into which had had sat down upon hearing his mother's steps.

"Mother, I will escort Ellen home."

"Of course, dear. Mind that we shall dine in an hour."

"Of course, mother."

When Richard and Ellen had left, Harriet turned to her daughter with a smile.

"You don't know how happy I was when I saw you in Richard's room. I already feared that things might have gone too far between Ellen and your brother."

"Too far, Mother?" Eleanor asked with feigned innocence.

"You know what I mean, Eleanor. You are not a good actress at all, so leave it be."

Eleanor returned to her room, stifling a giggle. Not a good actress? It had been a feat worthy of a great actress to suppress her laughter when her mother had expressed her relieve that nothing had happened between Ellen and Richard. She recalled the musky smell in Richard's room, and the way Ellen's blouse was tucked into her skirt, like she had just put it on. Her brother had at least caught a glimpse of the promised land, she thought wickedly. Ellen's wetted hair and a wet spot on Richard's trousers had been a give away, too. She would have to talk to Richard again, she thought, to remind him of not taking things too far.

She thought of Ellen again. With her heated face and her long blond tresses in disarray, she was a symbol of innocent sensuality. A smouldering fire had shone in her blue eyes, and Eleanor had found it very difficult to avert her gaze from the lines of her eyebrows and the delicately formed mouth. That mouth! Those lips had been swollen slightly and moist, and Eleanor knew that her brother had feasted on them just moments before she came into the room.

Eleanor found herself short of breath and sweaty. Well, the latter could be remedied. There would be time for her to use the douche bath before dinner. Quickly, she gathered a towel and fresh undergarments from a chest of drawers and walked across the hallway and into the bathroom. She quickly undressed, folding her blouse and skirt neatly, and stepped out of her undergarments. There was a long mirror on the opposite wall that she had ignored so far. She could not help looking at her mirror image now. She was the same size as Ellen, and she had the trim figure of her mother, with small but noticeable breasts, a narrow waist and the beginnings of a flare about her hips. The cold air made her nipples stand up, or was it the excitement of seeing herself stark naked?

Eleanor stepped into the tub and closed the curtain. Pulling a chain, she opened a valve and wonderful warm water cascaded over her exposed body. It was a sensual delight, this douche bath. She lathered her hands with soap and rubbed all over her body. Her breasts tingled delightfully when she rubbed over them, and she smiled to herself.

Now for the best part. She took the slick bar of soap and moved it over her sparse, reddish pubic hair. Taking a breath, she opened her legs and slid the soap between them, closing her thighs on it. Taking hold of either end of the soap bar with her hands, she began to slide it back and forth, revelling in the sensations she created. She thought of the younger James Palmer, imagining his hands on her naked body. The image of her brother, standing naked in a pond near High Matcham where she had spied on him, crept into her mind, too. Then, finally, the image of a naked Ellen Trilby appeared before her inner eye, her mouth open, her hair wet and dishevelled, those blue eyes glowing with lust. A wave of excitement sent Eleanor crashing over the edge. Her knees buckled, and she dropped the bar of soap, standing in the warm spray of water, trying to regain her breath.

She must be crazy, thinking of another girl that way! She closed the valve, and stepped out of the tub. Taking the towel, she rubbed herself dry in quick movements. Still shaking her head at her own behaviour, she dressed quickly and went downstairs for dinner.



-------

Chapter 9: Repercussions



The next morning, after a good night's sleep, Ellen sat down at her desk to finish the letters following Harriet Carter's advice, and she sent both of them by messenger. That done, Ellen busied herself with other affairs that she had neglected in the past, tumultuous days. She and Richard had agreed not to visit that day to allow both of them to catch some breath, and to allow their families to adjust gradually to their developing love affair. However, Ellen wrote a short letter to Richard, telling him about her day and to let him know that she thought of him.

Her peace of mind slowly returning, Ellen slept long the next night. She only woke up when Lucy entered her room.

"You have two letters; Ellen. I thought it best to bring them."

"Thank you, Lucy. I'm sorry I overslept."

"You needed that, dear, after those dreadful days," Lucy replied.

Ellen broke the seal of the first letter. She saw that it was from Lord Wynchelsea.



"My dear Miss Trilby (he wrote),

thank you for your letter of condolence. I find it testimony to your good heart that you try to assume responsibility for the dreadful event. Since I was present on that fateful occasion, I have to contradict you, however. It was my late brother's insulting behaviour to young Mr. Carter that was the sole cause of the altercation that ended in his deplorable death. Given your youth, and Mr. Carter's unassailable conduct, I fear that the blame rests solidly with my late brother, may the Lord have Mercy on his soul. I ask you, therefore, not to blame yourself, but rather to learn from this event that men can act rashly when a beautiful woman is involved.

I am

your obedient servant

Malcolm Finney,

3rd Viscount Wynchelsea



"That is a very nice response from His Lordship," Lucy commented. "Although, if you read carefully, he admonished you slightly. Very tactful, though. Well, let's see what Mrs. Binnings has to say."

Ellen opened the second letter



Dear Miss Trilby (she read),

thank you for your letter of yesterday in which you accepted responsibility for the dreadful affair between our lamented James Finney and young Richard Carter. I agree with your realisation that most of it was caused by your lack of maturity and experience, but I must add that I also see a woeful lack of education. While I am confident that Lady Wilkes will see to it that those deficits will be corrected over time, please understand that neither I nor any of my friends will see fit to invite to our social functions a young woman so prone to causing scandal as you have proven to be. While I accept your apology, I must ask you therefore to refrain from calling upon me until such time when you have had some much-needed schooling.

Your servant

Marjorie Binnings



Ellen felt her cheek burning with shame at the uncompromising rebuke, but Lucy became outright furious.

"How dare she lay all the blame to you! What about Finney? He fought three duels, all of them over women, and she still invited him! Let us see how popular her salon will be when my friends will not attend anymore!"

Ellen had calmed down, in the meantime. She put her hand on Lucy's arm.

"Lucy, don't make things worse. Actually, it's all right. I had not planned anyway to go to those silly functions for a while. Like it or not, I misbehaved, and it would be in bad taste for me to just pretend nothing happened. Perhaps, I should learn a little bit more before move in those circles again."

"That's beside the point, Ellen. Look at the difference between those two letters. Lord Wynchelsea gives you a very subtle hint to be more careful in the future, while acknowledging the fact that it was his brother whose behaviour was worse. Marjorie Binnings just lays all the blame at the feet of an eighteen-year-old girl whom she brought together with a notorious womaniser, ten years her senior. You are right, though. Let us respond to this in a more subtle way. Marjorie always has this big New Year's Eve reception that we always attended. Well, it would not seem right to go there without you, would it?"

"Lucy, it isn't worth it."

"Oh yes, it is. Don't you think that between Harriet, Moira and myself, we should be able to have a very nice ball on New Year's Eve? Especially, if we can induce Anita Heyworth to attend? You know, she rarely attends such social functions, and if she came, our party would be the talk of the town."

"Wouldn't you alienate some of father's clients and benefactors?"

"Don't you think Anita's presence will suffice to draw them to our party? Well, maybe not, but if I ask them to attend the engagement of my lovely daughter with a certain young gentleman, how could they resist?"

Ellen's eyes got big.

"Really? Lucy, are you speaking in earnest? But what about... ?"

"I have spoken with your stepfather already. The way your relationship to Richard has developed, we must act fast."

"What do you mean by that?" Ellen asked in a strangled voice.

"My dear child, neither Harriet nor I are dumb, nor have we forgotten the urges felt by young people. Well, we still feel them ourselves mostly," Lucy grinned. "That stain on your blouse had a distinctive smell to it which both alarmed me and comforted me. It alarmed me, because you and Richard have already discovered the physical aspect of your love. It comforted me, since you obviously had sense enough not to undress and let things go too far. However, if I guess correctly, it is a matter of time only before your restraints will prove too weak, and we want you to be married before that."

"Aren't you angry with me, Lucy?" Ellen asked, confounded by the matter-of-fact attitude of her stepmother.

"Are you certain that you love the boy, Ellen? That you are not trying to assuage a feeling of guilt?"

Ellen shook her head.

"Lucy, we talked about that. We both made mistakes, first he, then I. And we regret them. We both know that we do not want to live without the other, or rather apart from each other," she added hastily. "I did not mean it like it sounded. If Richard had found another woman, I would still want to live on, but my heart would break."

Lucy nodded. "I am not angry with you, Ellen. You are lucky to have found the right man so early in your life, and both Harriet and I feel that you should not have to wait as long as she was forced to wait."

"Does Richard know about your plans? The engagement, I mean?"

"No. He will ask for your hand on Christmas Day, and then we will surprise him with the news. Don't spoil the surprise!"

"Oh, I wished you had not told me then. What if he asks me if I know something? I would feel bad lying to him."

"If he asks you outright, tell him the truth. Tell him, though, to at least act surprised," Lucy laughed. "Not telling is not a lie. Now, if you will go over to Richard's, will you give a little billet to Harriet from me? We will have to start on our plan of action as soon as possible. Do you mind if I show this letter to Harriet and Moira? No? Wonderful. Now get dressed, dear."

Walking over to the Carters' house to deliver Lucy's billet, Ellen received an invitation to share lunch with the family. Ellen's mood improved as it became clear that the Carters had again taken her in as part of their family. If anything, Eleanor was slightly withdrawn. When Ellen shot her a questioning look, Eleanor blushed slightly. 'Not about you, ' she mouthed.

"So Ellen, can you tell me what this 'war council' is all about at Lucy's?" Lady Carter asked curiously.

Ellen looked around for help, but she decided to be completely honest.

"You know, I showed you those letters I had written, to Lord Wynchelsea and Mrs. Binnings? I rewrote them as you suggested, and I sent them yesterday. I received two answering letters today, a very polite one by Lord Wynchelsea, just telling me it was not my fault and that I should simply be more careful in the future. Don't I know that!"

There was a light chuckle all around the table.

"However, Mrs. Binnings wrote me, that it was all my fault and that my education was wanting, and that I should refrain from calling upon her or her friends in the future, 'until I had some much-needed schooling'. Lucy was really angry at Mrs. Binnings, but then calmed down when I said that I would not go there anyway."

"Methinks, that the good Mrs. Binnings should have been wise enough not to invite certified troublemakers like Finney to her evenings in the first place," Sir Anthony opined thoughtfully.

"But what is Lucy planning?" Harriet Carter was still not satisfied with Ellen's explanation.

"She said that since we would not be able to go to Mrs. Binnings' big New Year's Eve reception, she wanted to have one herself."

Harriet face lit up. "But of course! We should have one! Not for that reason, though. We should have it to spend a wonderful evening with all our friends."

"It's funny," Richard spoke up, "but I have received a very similar letter from her, telling me in no uncertain terms to refrain from visiting her evenings until I managed to control my youthful intemperance."

"But Richard, she was all over me and accusing me and calling you 'that poor boy'. Why this change of heart?"

"Because Richard survived, and Mrs. Binnings' paramour did not," Sir Anthony said calmly.

"Ellen, darling, she probably kept inviting you at his request," Lady Carter said softly. "I have heard a few things from friends; they have done things like that before. With young, naive girls. It was their little game. I would have told you had I known that you went there."

The red colour on Ellen's face was from anger now.

"Is that true? She made a fool of me? What have I ever done to her to warrant such a treatment?"

"She wanted to keep her paramour who may have grown tired of her. So she fed him young girls to keep him at her side. She also probably hates you because of your beauty. You have to expect that with other women, dear," Lady Carter explained patiently.

"Not in this house, though, where all the women are beautiful in their own right," Sir Anthony added, kissing his wife's hand. "My wife is right about that, though. Lord Wynchelsea more or less hinted at the same when Richard and I delivered our condolences. Don't worry about him, though. Finney died without an heir and intestate. His Lordship will stand to reunite the family fortune. He did not seem to be in deep mourning."

"How could I be so stupid?" Ellen asked. "Well, I will learn from it, but it makes live so miserable, to be suspicious of other people."

"Welcome to the Good Society," Sir Anthony offered sarcastically. "That's one reason we prefer to live in High Matcham. Anyway, my dear wife, where do you propose this grand reception to take place?"

"For certain reasons that I'd rather not discuss now, we should have it here. Lucy's home will not be big enough, and Moira is not directly involved. No, I think this house will be perfect."

"We need to hire more help then. Nadine can come here, of course, but we will need more servants and cooks."

"I will ask Lucy and Moira to help us out with their staff. James and Moira are running a large household, and I will ask my mother, too. You can leave the preparations to me, my dear husband."

She turned to Ellen.

"Ellen, dear, I will go to Lucy after lunch. Why don't you accompany me? There are some more things that we can discuss on our way."

Richard opened his mouth.

"No, Richard. She will not stay here with you. Eleanor, will you accompany us to Lucy's? You need to learn about scheming, too," Harriet grinned.

"Can't I come, too," Richard asked, unwilling to part with Ellen just yet.

"No, my dear, this is going to be just us girls."

Sir Anthony looked at his son.

"Richard, you and I have to pay a visit with your grandfather. He wishes to see you."

"Because of the duel?"

"I suppose so, among other things, of course. Now that you are a man, he wants to get to know you better, you know why."

Richard nodded. His uncle, Andrew Lambert, was to inherit Lord Lambert's peerage. However, Andrew had four daughters and no son. Unless Aunt Emily had a son, Richard was second in the line of succession.

"Are we visiting at his home?" Richard asked.

"No, we'll meet him at Blades."

Richard swallowed excitedly. Blades was probably the most exclusive gentleman's club in London. Of course, he had never been there, but he had heard the rumours while he was at Eton. Perhaps, this was not going to be that bad.

On the last moment, Harriet decided to take the coach to Lucy's, claiming that it was too cold to walk. They were even more surprised that the coach was already waiting. The climbed aboard with the help of a manservant, and the coach left. It became clear to the girls that something was strange.

"Mother, this is not the way to Lucy's."

"No, it isn't, Eleanor. We shall make a small detour."

A few minutes later, the coach drew up in front of an impressive mansion on Cavendish Square.

"Why are we visiting with Grandmother?" Eleanor asked.

"I have to ask her for some help with the servants and other things. Now, get off that coach, dear."

Harriet herded the two girls up the steps of her parents' house. A wizened butler opened and greeted Harriet with deference.

"Her Ladyship is expecting you in the green salon, Lady Carter. Miss Carter, it is good to see you again. And this is... ?"

"Miss Ellen Trilby, Jerome."

"Very well, Lady Carter, please follow me."

As always, Harriet felt slightly annoyed at being led around in a house she had lived in once. The Butler James paused at the door, checked the appearance of the visitors critically, and then opened the door.

"Milady, Lady Carter to visit you. Miss Eleanor Carter and Miss Ellen Trilby."

Eleanor Lambert rose gracefully from her chair to welcome her daughter. In spite of her age, she was close to 65 years of age, she still had the sinewy grace of her younger years. Her hair, now white, was done to perfection, and her green eyes flashed with vitality. She kissed her daughter with great affection.

"You look wonderful, my darling. And here is my little Eleanor. Oh dear me! You have grown into a beautiful young lady. Hug your grandmother!"

Eleanor rushed into the old lady's arms. While she patted her granddaughter's back, Lady Lambert's eyes rested on Ellen, who stood back shyly. Ellen was amazed at Lady Lambert's appearance. That was Richard's grandmother? She looked nothing like the older matrons she had met in the various salons. If not for her white hair and a few lines around her eyes, she could be an elder sister to Harriet Carter.

"I presume this is our troublemaker?"

Nothing had prepared Ellen for Lady Lambert's first words. She blushed, wanting to defend herself. Then her rebellious streak came to her aid, and she looked straight into the old woman's eyes and held her gaze. Yes, she had done wrong, but she was no troublemaker.

Lady Lambert laughed and let go of her granddaughter. She stepped up to Ellen and put her hands on the young girl's shoulders. She held Ellen's gaze for another minute, studying her eyes. A friendly smile broke out on her lips and she turned sideways to her daughter.

"Poor Richard! He doesn't stand a chance, does he?"

Harriet shook her head.

"My daughter has told me about you, but I wanted to meet you in person. I like what I see. You see, Richard may one day inherit the peerage, and I would hate him to be married to the wrong woman. I have heard that you have been misled by false friends. It is the right of the young to make mistakes, and you did not have the right guidance. My daughter is woefully ignorant of the workings of London's society, and your stepmother, wonderful woman that she is, is far too busy doing good things to have the necessary experience. I would ask you therefore to visit me for tea during the next days, and I will teach you what you need to know to survive in this town. I will also see to it that you will meet some of my friends. When the times comes for you to become my granddaughter, you will be able to hold your own in any company. Now, what do you say?"

Ellen swallowed. Those green eyes were looking into her, making her self conscious. Hadn't she herself told Lucy that she needed some tutoring? But what was that about Richard and a peerage? He never told her. Could she do this? Could she, Ellen Trilby, impoverished orphan, aspire to marry the pretender to a title?

"This all comes as a surprise to me, milady," Ellen began, trying to get some order into her thoughts. "I did not know that Richard has such prospects. Could we perhaps try this first, with one visit, and then see where it leads? I admit to being confused right now."

The old woman smiled at her, a friendly smile that swept away all misgivings Ellen still harboured.

"You will do just fine, my dear. That was quite nice already. You were polite and appreciative, but you did not let me push you over. Yes, let us start with one visit, and see where that leads us. Now let us have a seat, my dears!"

She let go of Ellen's shoulders and sat down at a tea table.

"Now Harriet, what else is on your mind?"

Harriet laughed. She could never fool her mother. In a few words she explained about the planned celebration, and Mrs. Binnings' snub to both Richard and Ellen. Lady Lambert lifted her eyebrow.

"What is the occasion for this celebration? " she asked slyly. "I can remember only one New Year's celebration that you ever helped prepare."

Harriet blushed. It was uncanny how her mother knew her.

"Yes, mother, it's for the same reason. We shall announce Richard's and Ellen's engagement.

"Really?" Eleanor squealed. She hugged Ellen, nearly knocking over the tea table.

"I see," Lady Lambert smiled. "Now, Harriet, I will help you with this under two conditions."

"Yes?"

"Firstly, banish all thoughts of doing this to spite Marjorie Binnings. She is just a foolish, insignificant woman, who has nothing to her credit safe for her boring soirees."

"And secondly?"

"Secondly, the reception will be held in this house, where you and Anthony promised to each other. It will bode well for Richard and this young lady, seeing how happy you and Anthony are."

Ellen's heart went out to the old woman, and her eyes brimmed with tears. Impulsively, she rose and hugged the sitting Lady Lambert.

"I can see now how Lady Carter could become such a wonderful person," she said, wrought with emotion. "May I help with the preparations? That way, you can teach me."

Eleanor Lambert felt herself hugged by a second girl.

"You are the best, grandmother! I want to help, too."

Harriet grinned slyly. This way, Ellen would be distracted for the next weeks, and things with Richard would not get out of hand. Plus, her mother would see her granddaughter more often. Her reverie was broken by her mother.

"Don't you look so self-satisfied, Harriet. You planned this, right?"

Harriet's nod was decidedly self-satisfied, but then she remembered Lucy.

"Oh dear, mother. I need to visit Lucy. Why don't I leave the girls with you? You can already start the planning."

"Just go, Harriet," her mother laughed. "We shall busy ourselves with planning. Remember, though, no mention of Marjorie Binnings from now on. I told you, she is insignificant."

When Harriet was gone, Eleanor Lambert began her education of Ellen and Eleanor. She began by telling them who would be invited to the celebration and why. Ellen's head whirled when she heard the names and titles of the people who would attend her engagement. She thought wryly that this would be a far cry from her first engagement in front of six or seven drunk gamblers. At one point, Eleanor added to the list.

"Mother said that Aunt Anita should come, too."

"Yes, by all means. It's a shame that she has made such a rarity of herself. I she attends, I may be able to lure His Royal Highness to our little event."

Ellen felt dizzy.

"His Royal Highness?" she asked feebly.

"Oh yes, the Duke of Clarence. He and my husband were shipmates once."

Ellen felt panic rise inside, but Lady Lambert patted her hand.

"Don't worry. He is a very nice gentleman. It's perfect. We'll have The Heyworth and The Duke. Marjorie can have the leftovers."

"But didn't you say... ?" Eleanor began.

"Yes, I told your mother to forget about Marjorie. On the other hand, that stupid woman has elected to insult my grandson, and she will learn what that entails."

There was a certain unforgiving grimness about her for one moment, but she lightened up immediately.

"Now, tomorrow, I want both of you to come here at two. I was invited to tea with my good friend Aurora Pellew. She will be delighted to meet my granddaughter and her friend."

"Lady Exmouth," Eleanor whispered in response to Ellen's look.

"The Viscount Exmouth is another of my husband's old friends. His wife Aurora is a very nice person of the sort young women should be friends with. Now, Eleanor, be a darling and ring that bell."

Jerome, the butler appeared.

"Have the coach made ready, Jerome. Jenkins can drive these young ladies to my daughter's house."

"Very well, milady!"

A few minutes later, a thoroughly stunned Ellen sat beside Eleanor. 'What have I got myself into?' she kept asking herself.

"Grandmother likes you," Eleanor commented. "I look forward spending more time with her. They never visit us out in High Matcham."

"Is she serious about all the people she wants to invite?"

"Certainly. If my grandmother puts her mind to something, it will happen."

Eleanor laughed.

"What is so funny?" Ellen asked.

"You are truly hooked, my dear Ellen. With my grandmother planning the engagement, there is no way out for you and Richard."



-------

Chapter 10: Planning



Richard was properly awed. He was sitting, as unobtrusively as possible, at a table opposite his grandfather. His father, to his right side, was talking tariffs and sugar prices with one of the wealthiest men in the realm. Sir Robert Norton was a legend, a commercial genius, whose net worth was rumoured to exceed three million pounds. Richard knew that his father held substantial interest in shipping and foreign trade, but he never suspected him to be so well connected. Richard followed the sound maxim to watch, listen, and keep his mouth shut unless spoken to. He vaguely understood some of the issues, due to the lessons Mr. Rawlings had given him.

He looked at his grandfather. The old man looked back at him with a twinkle in the eye and smiled. Richard realised that the old man was even more clueless about the discussion. Apparently, his father and Sir Robert had now settled an urgent matter, regarding the taxation of American cotton, and Sir Robert explained in simple terms why the Lords should block a motion in the Commons initiated by British cotton planters. Lord Lambert listened attentively, and promised his support. Richard held his breath for a second. He was witnessing policy making. The discussion at their table would probably influence the lives of many people who were involved in cotton production and trade. The moment did not last long, for Sir Robert addressed him personally.

"And you, my silent young man? How did you enjoy the lessons of our Mr. Rawlings?"

How did the millionaire know about his tutor? Richard formulated his answer cautiously.

"It is something that I like to learn, Sir Robert. Mr. Rawlings said that I have a good understanding of commerce. It is necessary for me to know about these matters if I want to preserve our family interest."

Sir Robert nodded and smiled.

"Your father and I have been discussing that just a few months ago. That's why we meet here today. I wanted to get a personal impression of you, and I must say that I like what I saw. You watch and listen, and you think before you speak, not giving away too much. Your father has asked me whether I would accept you as my personal assistant. In all modesty, this is a highly coveted position, for it provides the incumbent with the opportunity to learn from me. Are you interested?"

Again, Richard weighed his response.

"If you think that I may be of use for you, Sir Robert, I would appreciate the chance."

The old merchant smiled.

"Oh yes, I think you will. Not immediately, but after some time you will be very useful." He chuckled. "My second to last assistant is now an undersecretary in the Trade Ministry, and believe me, he is very useful. Having anybody in government who knows about commerce is an invaluable asset. Come to my house next Monday at seven. I start the day early."

"Thank you, Sir Robert. I will be there."

Norton got up and bowed slightly.

"Milord, Sir Anthony, it was a pleasure seeing you. Master Carter, enjoy the remaining days!"

The others had also risen and bowed. When Norton had left, they sat down again, and Lord Lambert ordered French Cognac brandy. Richard sipped the brandy carefully. He was not really accustomed to ardent spirits.

"Are you surprised, Richard?" his father asked.

Richard nodded.

"I guess, I am. Now I understand, though, why you wanted me to quit Eton. You have been planning this."

"Yes," his father conceded. "You are too talented to waste your youth as a country gentleman. If you spend a year in Sir Robert's shadow, you will learn more than enough about commerce to make the next move."

Richard looked his question, but is was Lord Lambert who spoke.

"Richard, I view you as the potential heir to my title. Andrew has no sons, and one day you may succeed him as 3rd Baron Lambert. I do not wish for my successor to be an idler in the salons of London, living off the merits and fortunes of his forebears. Your father, your uncle, and I, we all could leave our mark in the Navy, and you need something to prove yourself, too."

"Not as Sir Robert's assistant, though?" Richard hazarded.

"No. I have made some inquiries with friends. My old acquaintance John Pennington owns three of the small boroughs. He has only one son, though, and he agreed to sell one of them. You will run for parliament in the Peterborough township the year after next year."

"Grandfather, I am barely 20 years of age. How can I win an election?"

"Very simple. We will own the land. We and the caretakers and tenants elect the representative. We will elect you. There will not be another candidate."

"And what will Mr. Pennington expect in exchange?"

"Good question. John is a supporter of free trade, something Sir Robert and your father also believe in. Plus, they will take him in as a partner in their new steam shipping line. You will just vote against taxes and tariffs on foreign trade. For the rest, follow your conscience."

"Your grandfather tried to talk me into this thing, but I have no stomach for politics. As he said, I have made my mark. You, on the other hand, need something to apply your talents to. If politics is not to your liking, you will be young enough to do other things after a term or two."

"But how can I prepare for such a task?" Richard asked.

"Watch Sir Robert, read the newspapers, and avoid scandal," Lord Lambert said simply. "That's another thing. You've come through a duel with all honours. Let is be now. This also goes for that girl. She will have to be careful, too, if you want her for a wife. Trust your grandmother to look after that."

Richard's eyebrows shot up.

"What is with Ellen?"

"I imagine her sitting with your grandmother, sipping tea, and suffering the Grand Inquisition."

"I thought they were to go to the Wilkes'."

"Your mother can be deceiving," Sir Anthony smiled. "Don't worry, Richard. You know your mother and your grandmother, they will help her."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Your grandmother can provide Ellen with that 'much needed schooling', to make sure that she will be able to avoid the pitfalls of life in London."

"She will be scared."

"I imagine she will. But then, so are you. You will both have to learn. If you both apply yourself to the task, you will be soon able to laugh at the likes of Marjorie Binnings and her idlers."

"Your father is right, Richard. I heard the girl is very beautiful, but naive. That's a very dangerous combination as you already had to find out. On the other hand, a beautiful and wise wife can help a man to get ahead. Just look at me!" his lordship chuckled.

•••

Lucy led her friend Harriet into her living room.

"You are a little late, dear. We have already started. Where is Ellen? You did not leave her alone with Richard again?"

"No," Harriet laughed. "She is with my mother."

Lucy stopped and looked at her friend.

"Already?"

"Lucy, you know my mother. She was bursting with curiosity about Ellen. Now, she loves her, just like everybody else."

Lucy opened the door to her salon and pushed Harriet in.

"Surprise," she smiled.

With a delighted squeal, Harriet rushed forward to hug one of her best friends.

"Anita! What a wonderful surprise! You are back in London? How come?"

Anita Heyworth, legendary actress and beauty, tossed back her rich chestnut coloured hair.

"I cut short our tour. It so seems that I am past that age where I can play the lovely young Hero. Perhaps I should start playing the mother roles," she said wryly.

"What are you saying, Anita? You look wonderful."

"I am 44 years old. I may look like 35 to the easily guiled, but I do not look like twenty anymore. I will retire."

Harriet, Lucy and Moira Palmer gasped as one.

"Really," Anita continued calmly. "I spoke with the principals of the Drury Lane. I will have my final curtain on January 16. That will be my twenty-fifth stage anniversary. I am tired of pretending to be somebody else. I need some time away from London, too."

"High Matcham will always be open to you, you know that?" Harriet offered. "Tony and I would love to have you with us as long as you want."

"You are sweet, Harriet. I may just take you up on that offer. Let's stop this morbid talk, though. You want to celebrate an engagement?"

Lucy interjected.

"We have not settled the locale. Moira has offered her home, but I think it should be yours or my house, Harriet."

"Oh, the locale is settled already," Harriet grinned. "My mother insists on having it in her house. You see, New Year's Eve is the twentieth anniversary of our engagement."

"The way Tony and you are still in love with each other, that will bode well for Ellen and Richard," Lucy agreed. "What can we contribute?"

"You, Lucy, and you, Moira, make a list of your dearest friends. You, Anita, just be there yourself and allow us to spread this news in advance."

"Oh no, not Clarence!" Anita groaned, but in good humour. "I've been trying to fend him off for twenty years. Should he ever succeed the King, he will command me to the court."

"He's not that bad," Harriet protested.

"He has a poor command of the English language," Anita maintained. "For instance, he does not know the meaning of 'no'. Oh well, I have dodged his advances for so long, I can do it for one more evening. You'll owe me for that!"

The four women applied themselves to the task of preparing the list of invited guests. Harriet was impressed when Lucy rattled off a string of names who represented the very best of London's society. There would be many overlaps between Lucy's list and the friends of her mother, Harriet realised.

Moira Palmer volunteered to organise music and dance, while Anita agreed grudgingly to give a short recitation. They brooded for close to an hour over the text for the invitations, and it was dark when they decided to break up. Just then, Ellen returned in the Carters' coach, which Harriet had sent home for this purpose. Ellen had been to the theatre twice during this autumn, but she had never seen Anita, and she was properly awed.

Anita, in her turn, looked at the girl with admiration and gave her a friendly hug.

"You have probably heard this a hundred times already, but you look lovely. Will you allow me to give you a few hints about your makeup, though? With a few alterations, we may well achieve perfection."

Ellen almost cringed when yet another person tried to change her. She saw the friendly smile, though, and thought that it might be fun to be with the famous actress. Having to endure a makeup lesson would be a small price to pay.

"I would appreciate that very much," she said nicely.

Anita stared at her for a moment. Then a grin spread over her face.

"Never try acting, my dear Ellen. Your face is like an open book. Don't worry. I don't plan to change you. I will show you a few things, and you can look into the mirror and decide whether you like it."

Ellen blushed slightly.

"I would love to," she answered, and this time, Anita believed her.

When the other women had left, Lucy sighed.

"This is going to be quite a large affair. Anything Lady Lambert is involved in is bound to be big. I still recall Harriet's wedding. Andrew's wedding was a huge affair, too, but of course I was not invited."

"I noticed that at High Matcham, Harriet's brother was not at ease with you," Ellen hazarded.

"Andrew Lambert and I have a history, Ellen. One day, I may tell you my story in full, but let us suffice to say that we were engaged once. He broke the engagement to marry another woman, and then, when that second engagement fell apart in some scandal, he wanted me back. At that time, Jonathan and I were already very close, closer that Andrew and I could have ever become, and so I refused him. He found Emily, his wife, a few years later. She is quite the proper wife for him, but I fear they are not happy together."

"But they have four children," Harriet interjected.

"She has four daughters, and that is a problem for Andrew who, it seems to me, would rather have one son to continue the line. Ever since his father became a Peer, he has this worry about continuing the line."

"So if they won't have a son, Richard will succeed to the title?"

Ellen's worry was palpable.

"You did not know that, did you? Does it worry you?"

"I did not know, and yes, it worries me. After that blunder I committed, I do not know whether I can ever be a Lady Lambert."

Lucy smiled benevolently.

"Ellen, believe me, I would have never thought that I could be anything more than a tavern wench when I was your age. You will learn."

•••

The next afternoon, Richard came to visit Ellen at the Wilkes' house. Lucy allowed the two young people some privacy in the tea room, and Richard explained to Ellen the new arrangement for his apprenticeship with Sir Robert Norton. Ellen saw one advantage immediately.

"That would mean that you will stay in London, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, of course," Richard answered. "It also means that I will have very little free time. Also, my apprenticeship with Sir Robert is not all."

He proceeded to explain to her the plan of his grandfather to procure a seat in Parliament for him. He could sense that Ellen was apprehensive.

"Ellen, I am afraid that this development troubles you," he said, afraid of what felt he had to say. "If you feel that this future of mine is incompatible with you, please tell me."

"Are you telling me that I may not be the right woman for you, Richard?" Ellen asked sadly.

"No, of course not," Richard exclaimed. "I am offering you a chance to object. Rather than see you unhappy or lose you, I would forego this seat in the Commons."

Ellen was stunned.

"You would give up this opportunity for me?"

"What is a seat in parliament if I cannot come home to you in the evening?"

"That would disappoint your father and grandfather."

"My father would understand, I am sure. With my grandfather I am not so sure, but I will not have to live with him."

"Your grandmother has invited me to visit her. She wants to help me avoid blunders in the future. I would really hate to ruin your prospects, Richard. If your grandmother can make me feel confident again, I want to be a proper wife for you, no matter what you will do."

"Ellen, we are already talking as if we are about to marry. I still have to ask your stepfather. You need to know that I cannot think of a better wife for me. If you put your heart in it, you can be everything."

Ellen's kiss told him that he had said the right thing.

•••

In spite of her misgivings, Ellen visited with Lady Lambert twice a week during the month of December. Often, Eleanor would accompany her, sometimes, however, Ellen went alone. Lady Lambert would have other guests for tea, acquaintances of hers, and Ellen would be introduced as Lady Lambert's protegé. After those guests had left, Lady Lambert would spend another hour or so to explain just who these persons were and how they were connected to whom. Ellen found these acquaintances of Lady Lambert a quite diverse set of personalities. With some of the women she felt an instant accord. With others, she could sense reservation, even a certain hostility. She learned to read the emotions of the people she met, and the discussions afterwards with her hostess often gave her a clue as to the reasons behind their behaviour. It soon turned out that Ellen had an excellent memory for faces and names, and Lady Lambert often praised her progress.

•••

In the meantime, Richard was busy running errands for Sir Robert. That would have been unsatisfactory for him, had not Sir Robert taken the time in almost each instant to explain the nature of the mission. Thus, by delivering Sir Robert's messages, mostly orally, and receiving the answers from the various business associates, Richard quickly came to a good appreciation of the scope of interests Sir Robert had in various lines of trade. With interest and admiration he realised that on most transactions Sir Robert profited on various levels since he owned or controlled more than one of the companies involved. He was astonished, too, how easily he understood the intricacies of the deals. The more he understood, the more he appreciated Sir Robert's fairness to his partners. Everybody involved profited from the dealings and it became obvious that he, as Sir Robert's emissary, was always received with friendly gestures of goodwill by the business partners.

In his free time, mostly Sunday afternoons, he visited the Wilkes as often as possible, but for weeks no chance presented itself to be alone with Ellen. This fact notwithstanding, Ellen did her best to show her affection for him. She made sure to pour his tea personally, she placed her hand on his arm, but most importantly, she gave him her brilliant smile at every chance, and her eyes expressed her affection more convincingly than any words. Strangely, the semi-separation made their love grow stronger, and they were both happy in that knowledge.

•••

It was a week before Christmas and Ellen arrived together with Eleanor at Lord Lambert's house. The old Admiral was there, too, and Lady Lambert informed the girls of this day's list of guests. To Ellen's horror, Mrs. Marjorie Binnings and one of her closest friends were among the invited. Lady Lambert smiled at Ellen's discomfort.

"This is a sort of test for you, my dear. The woman hates you, and you don't like her either. I want you to show your best of behaviour, but do not allow her to trample over you."

Ellen sighed at that, but Eleanor bristled.

"I shall give her my mind, don't worry, if she toes the line."

"Eleanor, you will do nothing of the kind," Lady Lambert admonished her granddaughter. "Just watch me, and learn!"

Marjorie Binnings arrived alone, and she was received at the door by Lady Lambert. She was led into the tea parlor, and she was visibly shocked to see Ellen.

"What a surprise to see you here, Miss Trilby," she managed to say.

Ellen chose to ignore the implied question.

"It is a surprise and a pleasure for me."

Marjorie Binnings swallowed hard.

"Of course, for me too. And this is your charming granddaughter, Lady Lambert?"

"Yes, this is Eleanor," Lady Lambert smiled. "Isn't she charming? I believe, you've met her brother, my grandson?"

"Yes, I have had the, err, pleasure."

Another guest was announced and Mrs. Binnings mood improved, for Anita Heyworth stepped into the room at the arm of Lord Lambert. The actress was introduced to the other guests, and Mrs. Binnings stared in disbelieve when she hugged both Eleanor and Ellen with obvious affection. Instantly, Marjorie Binnings switched into her most pleasant behaviour.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you again, Miss Heyworth. It has been, what, five years since you last graced my salon."

"Probably. I have grown somewhat tired of soirees in the last years."

"How come you know our dear Ellen Trilby?" she asked, unable to harness her curiosity.

"Oh, the Carters are my dearest friends, as is Lucy Wilkes. It was impossible not to meet Ellen, just as impossible as to not like her."

"Quite, quite. She is such a charming girl. By the way, do you have any prior engagements for New Year's Eve? You know that my annual soiree is the absolute high point of the season. It would be wonderful to have you there."

"Not this year, my dear Marjorie," Anita answered sweetly. "I am already involved in another event, a family celebration."

"Yes, Marjorie," didn't I tell you?" Lady Lambert added. "We shall have a family function here, with a few friends of our families."

"But on New Year's Eve?" Mrs. Binnings gasped.

"It is my daughter's twentieth engagement anniversary. In addition, we have another happy occasion to celebrate. I am afraid you will have to excuse us this year."

"How regrettable," Mrs. Binnings managed to respond.

"Yes, isn't it?" Lady Lambert agreed. "Clarence will attend, as will Lord Liverpool. I would have invited you, but knowing that you host your own soiree it did not make sense."

"Of course not. Maybe some other time."

After that, the conversation drifted to other topics. Ellen and Eleanor contributed little, as befit their role. They both had a hard time maintaining a friendly facade when after a while, Mrs. Binnings' began a hypocritical attempt at reconciliation with Ellen.

"You know, my dear Ellen, I think one shouldn't judge your youthful indiscretion too harshly. I am sure, much blame rests on poor James, God rest his soul, and his temper."

Struggling to maintain her composition, Ellen still replied sweetly.

"Oh, I learned a lot from the dreadful incident. For once, I will chose more carefully those I associate with. Fortunately, I was able to reconcile with Richard Carter and his family, but I dread what could have happened."

Marjorie Binnings finally beat a retreat an hour later, leaving just Lady Lambert, Eleanor, Ellen, and Anita. Lady Lambert smiled benevolently at the two girls.

"Well done, my dears. You did learn something during my afternoon teas. It is so easy to behave yourself when the company is pleasant. To be well behaved when you dislike other guests, though, is quite an achievement."

Eleanor shook herself with disgust.

"This Binnings woman is such a despicable hypocrite! Ellen, your answer that you would chose better who you would associate with, that was a wonderful riposte."

Ellen was thoughtful.

"I just realise how right your mother was when she said that Binnings is irrelevant. What do I care what a turncoat like her thinks of me? To get Miss Heyworth to her stupid soiree, she would have killed Finney herself."

"Well observed," Anita replied. "I must ask you, though, to call me Anita. I am Miss Heyworth to the likes of Marjorie Binnings, but not to Richard's fiáncé."

Ellen smiled at that.

"I like the sound of that. I am not yet his fiancé, though."

"Stop worrying, Ellen," Eleanor laughed. "Richard will ask your stepfather on Christmas Day and he will agree. After all, we have already arranged for the reception to announce your engagement."

•••

On Christmas Eve, the Carters and the Wilkes stayed by themselves. While the Wilkes had a quiet evening, Sir Anthony had a talk with his son.

"Richard, I take it that you will ask for Ellen's hand tomorrow."

"Yes, father, with your permission."

"For Jonathan to agree, you will have to demonstrate the means to sustain Ellen. I understand that Sir Robert gives you a salary?"

"Yes, a guinea per week, although I am far from earning it yet."

"So you have an income from your work. That is good but hardly enough. You can tell Jonathan that on the day of your wedding, you will receive Woodbridge Manor with the associated lands. This is exactly why I never sold that Manor. It will provide you with a place to raise a family and an income to support yourself and your future wife."

Richard was overwhelmed.

"Father, that will be wonderful! But what about Eleanor?"

Sir Anthony smiled benevolently.

"That you ask about your sister's birthright is commendable. Do not worry. We shall find an appropriate dowry for Eleanor when the time is ripe. It will mean, however, that you will be responsible for Woodbridge. I trust you can handle that?"

"I will need a caretaker if my work is in London. Maybe young Oliver Brown wants to do this. He could always ask his father for advice and grow into the task."

Sir Anthony nodded with satisfaction.

"That is an excellent idea, Richard. Mr. Brown has been an excellent caretaker for me, and to give his son such an opportunity would be a proper reward for the family. I will ask him as soon as we return to High Matcham."

That night, Richard hardly slept. He thought about his new responsibilities, but also about the promise of a future with Ellen.

On Christmas morning, the Carters, with the exception of Richard, slept longer. After breakfast, gifts were exchanged. Later that morning, the family visited Lord and Lady Lambert. Andrew Lambert and his family were spending the holidays in London in his father's house, too, and it was a typical family gathering. After a long lunch, Lady Lambert asked her grandson to follow her upstairs. In her boudoir, she bade him sit.

"Richard, I know you want to ask for Ellen's hand today. I have seen much of the girl lately, and I can honestly say that I like her. If her stepfather agrees to your proposal, I want you to give her something."

She pulled a small box from drawer and handed it to Richard.

"This was given to my mother when she was engaged to my grandfather. Neither Harriet nor Eleanor can really wear it with their green eyes. For Ellen, it will be perfect, though."

Richard carefully opened the box and gasped. It was a massive gold necklace, with one perfect blue sapphire on each link. Richard swallowed.

"This is wonderful, grandmother. Are you sure you want to give it to me?"

"I am not giving it to you, I am giving it to your bride. It will tell her that I approve of her. I flatter myself that my approval will mean something to her."

Richard kissed his grandmother.

"Thank you! Thank you for helping her, too."

"Richard, I know the plans that your grandfather has for you. I want to add a bit of advice to these plans. Always stay what and who you are and never forget those who love you."

"I never will, grandmother."

"Now go. I'm sure poor Ellen is sitting on hot coals, just as you do."

While the rest of the family stayed with the elder Lamberts, Richard took the coach to the Wilkes' home. Upon his asking, he had been invited for tea, and it was 4 o'clock when he knocked on the door. A servant showed him to the tea room where he found Jonathan and Lucy Wilkes, and, of course, Ellen. Lucy offered him tea, smiling sweetly, and poor Richard had to endure almost half an hour of small talk before he was able to announce the purpose of his visit.

Ellen sat perched on the edge of her seat during that time, silently cursing her stepparents for the torture they were putting her through. She held her breath, though, when Richard finally came to the point.

"Sir Jonathan, Lady Wilkes, I came here today to ask you for the hand of Ellen. I love her dearly, and I have come to believe that she loves me in kind. I ask you to consider my proposal favourably."

Sir Jonathan cleared his throat first.

"Well, Richard, my wife and I are fully aware of the feelings that you have for Ellen. I must ask you, however, how you plan to support her. You have no income of your own, do you?"

Ellen thought her heart would stop. Why were they asking for money when all this was about love? Richard's answer surprised her.

"I have a salary from my work as Sir Robert Norton's personal assistant. I can also assure you that on the day of my marriage, my father will give me the land and manor of Woodbridge, to serve as my home and my source of income. Of course, I can provide you with the earnings reports if you wish so."

Sir Jonathan pondered this for a long minute, until even Lucy could not bear the tension anymore.

"Stop it already, Jonathan!" she demanded in mock exasperation.

Her husband smiled.

"Well, if this is the case, I think Ellen will be well provided for. As a dowry I can offer a townhouse near Cambridge Court. It once belonged to an uncle of mine who bequeathed it to me. Would that be agreeable to you?"

Richard was surprised. He had not expected a dowry, seeing that Ellen had been the Wilkes' stepdaughter for a few months only. He was torn from his train of thought, however, by a solid kick to his shins. Ellen, who sat across from him, stared at him furiously.

'Say yes!' she mouthed.

"Err... , yes, yes, that is quite agreeable," Richard stammered in a hurry lest his shin bone was shattered by another kick.

"That is settled then," Sir Jonathan observed with a smile. "What remains is that you ask Ellen if she will be your wife."

Richard nodded. He rose from his chair and walked around the table. Kneeing before Ellen, he tried to find the appropriate words.

"My beloved Ellen, will you agree to marry me?"

Overcome with emotion and unable to speak, Ellen nodded her head vigourously, her cheeks wet with tears. Through her tears she saw that Richard produced a box from his coat pocket.

"Please accept this token of my love then. It belonged to my great-grandmother, and my grandmother gave it to me for you."

With trembling hands, Ellen opened the old fashioned box. She cried out in surprise when she saw the necklace. Wordlessly, she showed it to Lucy who gasped.

"Put it on, Ellen," she urged her stepdaughter.

With Lucy's help, Ellen fastened the heavy chain around her neck and stood before a looking glass. The blue stones complimented Ellen's blue eyes and the gold enhanced the gold of her tresses. In short, it looked splendid on her.

"This is so beautiful, Richard," Ellen finally managed to say. She turned away from her mirror image and flew into his arms. "Please give your grandmother my thanks, too. I shall cherish this present for as long as I shall live."

"Just as I shall cherish you," Richard answered, smiling at her. "The necklace and you are a perfect match."

Sir Jonathan cleared his throat.

"Have you spared a thought yet on when to plan the actual wedding?"

Richard cleared his head.

"As you know, I am in an apprenticeship with Sir Robert Norton. He plans to go to Oporto on a visit with friends late April. If possible, I would appreciate a date in early May, allowing us some sort of honeymoon."

"You are going to be a May bride, Ellen," Lucy smiled.

"But that's another four months," Ellen complained with a mock pout. Then she smiled brightly. "I will need four months for all the preparations."

Sir Jonathan groaned and Lucy shot him a devilish grin.

"My dear husband, the next four months will be quite lively."

"Quite," was the somewhat resigned answer.

"I take it that you want to present your bride to your family?" Lucy inquired.

Richard smiled in response. This was like Lucy, never thinking of herself, but always trying to give others happiness.

"As a matter of fact, I am to invite you all to dinner at my grandparent's house."

Sir Jonathan looked pointedly at his wife. Lucy just shrugged.

"I have no problems with Andrew. Maybe he has, but it's his father's house, and I like the Lamberts."

"Let us go then. We are dressed anyway. I will tell Simmons that we shall dine out."

Within forty minutes, they were on their way. Ellen rode alone with Richard in the Lamberts' coach and snuggled against him. She wore hardly any makeup, and they spend the entire coach ride with their lips locked, their tongues engaged in a sweet duel. They both looked rather flustered when they arrived at their destination. The Wilkes' coach drew up behind them, and they entered the house together. When they were shown into the dining hall, they were greeted by Lord Lambert.

"I take it you have reached an amiable agreement, Richard?"

"Quite so, grandfather!" Richard laughed happily.

Lady Lambert rushed to greet Ellen. She held her at arm's length to appraise her.

"You look exquisite. Welcome to our family, my dear."

Ellen could not stand it any longer and embraced the older woman in a tight hug.

"Thank you for everything you did for me!" she said with feeling. Then she hugged Harriet Carter, who had also stepped forward. Next, Eleanor came forward.

"I told grandmother that this necklace would look spectacular on you! Welcome, sister!"

When all the hugs and kisses had been exchanged, Sir Anthony spoke up.

"Dear friends and relatives, I appears to me that my son Richard has an important announcement to make."

Richard rose, smiling from ear to ear.

"Yes, indeed. I take great pleasure in informing you that I have asked Sir Jonathan for the hand of his daughter Ellen in marriage, and he has consented. I have therefore asked Ellen to be my wife and..."

"Your puffy lips already showed us that she has accepted!" Andrew Lambert interjected to good humoured laughter.

Richard joined in the laughter happily, putting his arm around Ellen's shoulder. He, like most other people at the table, were surprised at the good mood his uncle was in. Usually, he was subdued around Lucy Wilkes, he had never really got over the fact that he had lost her due to his own stupidity.

Lady Lambert interrupted his train of thoughts.

"Since we shall have a New Year's Eve reception here, that will be a wonderful opportunity to make your engagement public, don't you think?"

Richard was the only person who had been left in the dark about the feverish preparations, and he looked perfectly baffled, to the merriment of the rest of his family. Ellen was contrite, though.

"They made me promise not to tell you, Richard. It was meant as a surprise," she whispered urgently.

"And a surprise it is! In a week then? You were all in collusion over this?"

"Emily and I weren't, no," Andrew protested. "We enjoyed your face anyway!"

"Sir Robert knows, too," Sir Anthony added. "He gives you the week off to prepare."

"I think it is in order if we sit the young couple together at the far end of the table," Lady Lambert announced, neatly using the opportunity to call the family to order. There was a dinner to be held, after all. It was her son who spoiled her plan.

"I, too, have an announcement to make," Andrew spoke up. "I learned about it just a few days ago. I have a command."

There was more cheering now, with the two naval officers shaking his hand in congratulation.

"How come I did not know this?" Lord Lambert grumbled.

"Because I wanted to get it on my own," Andrew grinned. "I met Sir Edward Codrington at Blades the other day and we played Whist. He has been tipped as Commander in Chief in the Mediterranean. I will have the Dreadnaught under his command," he concluded happily.

Andrew was a very senior captain, and he would probably make Rear Admiral when this command was over. To reach command of a line of battle ship in times of peace was a nice compliment to his excellent reputation as an officer. This perfectly explained his good mood, Richard thought.

The excellent news made for a wonderful evening. After dinner, the men went for Lord Lambert's study to enjoy a Cognac brandy. The women of the family, including the four daughters of Andrew and Emily Lambert who ranged in age between four and ten, went to the tea room. There, the girls found the presents from their grandmother and settled on a wool rug to play with them.

The five women sat at the table, meanwhile, discussing the evening's events. Harriet noted with surprise that her shy and withdrawn sister in law was in good spirits, too. She touched the younger woman's hand.

"Are you happy, too, Emily?"

"Oh yes. Andrew has been so happy over the last days. This morning, he even woke me, you know, he woke me."

She looked nervously at her daughters, but the girls were immersed in their play and did not listen to the grown ups.

"Oh dear, I had not known things had been tense between you," Harriet said concerned.

"Well, he always wanted a son, and now I cannot have children anymore after Clarice's birth."

"He would not blame you, would he," Lady Lambert asked in an exasperated tone of voice. "Hopefully, this is not how I raised my son."

"Not overtly, of course," Emily sighed, "but I noticed. It was sheer luck that I met Lady Codrington at a soiree. We engineered Andrew and Sir Edward to meet. I think Andrew may know, from what he said this morning."

"Men and their ego," Harriet sighed. "Fortunately, Tony is content staying at home. Not that he would refuse a command, but he said that he has eaten enough salt pork to last him a lifetime."

The women chuckled at that.

"He will not leave before May, will he?" Ellen asked. "We would love to see you at our wedding."

"I am afraid he will," Emily Lambert sighed. "I will be happy to attend. Do you need flower girls?"

The women looked over to where the girls played.

"That would make me very happy," Ellen responded with warmth.

Emily looked at the young woman.

"You did not catch the implications of what I said, do you?"

Ellen was confused.

"About your daughters?"

"No, about my inability to have more children."

Comprehension dawned on Ellen, but her face showed such a lack of enthusiasm that Emily laughed.

"I take it that you will not marry Richard because of his prospects, then?"

"She loves him in spite of his prospects," Lady Lambert inserted drily.

Ellen nodded to that, and Emily put a hand on the young woman's arm.

"You must come and visit us in Portsmouth. I think I like you. You are a lot like me when I was your age."

"I insist that you spend a few days in London, Emily, before you return to Portsmouth," Lady Lambert said. "There is just so much going on right now. By the way, we have a new embassy here. The Republic of Colombia has sent an ambassador. A most striking young man from Cartagena. Don Antonio Ruiz de Costa is his name. He came with his mother, a widow of striking beauty, I was told. Harriet, didn't you visit Cartagena once in the war?"

"Yes, we were in Cartagena as guests of the Governor," Harriet replied in a suddenly flat voice. "I know the mother. She must be the Governor's wife. I have to tell Tony. She is the Spanish Lady he once saved, back when he commanded the Clyde. They named their son after Tony, in gratitude."

"You don't say!" Lady Lambert exclaimed. "Then we should invite them to Richard's and Ellen's engagement."

Harriet swallowed her misgivings. Donna Maria Ruiz de Costa had once been her husband's paramour, she knew. She and Tony had been estranged then; she was married to Rupert Palmer, and Tony had compensated for his hurt feelings with several affairs. She did not blame either her husband or Donna Maria consciously, but she felt insecure knowing that the woman had known Tony's love before her. Now that she was widowed, would she still care for Tony? Did he still care for her? She cast those doubts aside quickly. There was no indication that Tony's love for her had lessened over the past twenty years. In fact, the little soreness she felt between her legs was indicative of the passion he still harboured for his wife. No, she could be sure of her husband.

"Yes, by all means, mother. They were so hospitable, back then, and I would like to return the welcome."

"I will send them an invitation, then. I will write it in your name and in Anthony's as well. Shall we meet tomorrow again to discuss the floral arrangements?"

More mundane matters were discussed now. Ellen and Eleanor listened quietly. Ellen was slightly exhausted, and Eleanor did not know what to contribute to the ongoing discussions. Eleanor had no idea to what extent the outcome of this evening's conversation would turn her own life upside down.



-------

Chapter 11: Happy New Year!



"Can you help me with the clasp of this necklace, Ellen? I don't want to risk losing it."

Ellen quickly stood behind Eleanor and fastened the clasp. It was a beautiful necklace, made from heavy sterling silver with emeralds that picked up the colour of Eleanor's eyes. Lady Lambert had given it to her granddaughter and Eleanor loved it. This evening was something both young women were looking forward to. Ellen for obvious reasons, and Eleanor because it would be the first ball where she was playing a prominent role.

They were in a third floor spare bedroom in Lady Lambert's house, adding the finishing touches to their appearance. Eleanor was wearing an emerald green dress with, as she thought, an almost daring bust line. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back through a heavy sterling silver ring. Ellen was wearing a dress with a very similar cut, but sapphire blue, contrasting beautifully with her long blond tresses. She wore her hair open, falling down in lush waves over her shoulders, with only her bangs tied back. They studied themselves in the tall mirror.

"You are every bit as beautiful as your mother, Eleanor," Ellen complimented her friend who smiled thankfully in return.

"If it weren't for those stupid freckles in summer," she complained.

"Ssh, you look lovely. No mortal man deserves either of us, except for your brother, that is. Oh, I guess that came out stupid."

"Yes, it did. I certainly do not vie for Richard's attention," Eleanor laughed.

There was a knock on the door, and Lady Carter stepped in. After critically surveying both girls, she smiled.

"You look both exquisite. I am envious of you, Eleanor. I always wanted to have that necklace. I'm glad, though, that mother gave it to you."

"I am happy, too, mother," Eleanor smiled.

"Let us join my mother downstairs. The guests should arrive any minute."

The three women descended the stairs to the entry hall. Lord and Lady Lambert were already greeting the first guests, and Harriet, her daughter and Ellen joined them. Ellen held back since she was not yet part of the hosting family, but over the next hour she saw many acquaintances arrive and exchanged pleasantries with them. Sir Anthony had joined the reception party as well, and it was he who recognised the next arrivals.

"Doña Maria! What a pleasure! Your servant. And this is your son, Don Antonio? Welcome, Excellency! Doña Maria, you already know my wife. Don Antonio, this is my wife, Lady Carter. May I introduce our hosts, Lord and Lady Lambert? This is my son Richard and his future bride, Miss Ellen Trilby. Oh, and this is my daughter Eleanor."

Doña Maria greeted Harriet with a friendly kiss of the cheek while her son bowed deeply both to Harriet and her mother. Harriet marvelled at the good looks of the young man. His skin had a lighter complexion than his mother's, and he was much taller than Harriet remembered his father to be. His face was very handsome, resembling his mother's features in some way. Harriet felt strongly drawn to the young man. He now shook hands with Richard and bowed to Ellen, clearly appreciating her beauty.

Eleanor smiled at the dark haired woman who addressed her with a lilting English. The son came next and he bowed mechanically to her curtsey. Only then did they both look up and into each other's eyes. For a fraction of a second, the world stood still. Eleanor was lost in the brown eyes of the young man, his handsome features strangely appealing to her like no other man's face ever had.

For his part, Don Antonio Ruiz de Costa had come to this reception as an act of consideration to his mother who wanted to meet old friends. Of course, he had heard how this gentleman in the resplendent Admiral's uniform had once saved his mother from the incarceration in a monastery on Santo Domingo, and how this very act was responsible for the reconciliation of his parents and his own existence. He was pleasantly surprised at the friendly reception, and he found the son of Sir Anthony a very courteous young man. His bride was downright beautiful, Don Antonio thought. He had to revise his prejudices regarding English women.

Then he saw his mother greet a slim young woman. When she moved out of the way, he bowed with ingrained courtesy. Raising up, he could only stare into a lovely pale face framed by reddish blond curls. Her green eyes were staring into his as if reading his very soul. The rest of the room, of the people around them, blurred; all he could focus on was that English girl's face. With a Herculean effort, he tore his eyes away from her face to gather his thoughts. With great care he spoke to her.

"I am enchanted to meet you, Miss Eleanor. Would you do me the honour of a dance later?"

"With great pleasure, Don Antonio," Eleanor gushed, a smile lighting up her features.

The smile cast another spell on the young man who gulped visibly.

"I will seek you out, I promise."

Lady Lambert spoke to her butler in a low tone, all the while smiling at her granddaughter. The butler bowed and quickly went into the great hall.

"Eleanor, dear, why don't you show Don Antonio and his mother to the hall? He is your table partner anyway."

Eleanor swallowed, blushing furiously.

"With pleasure, grandmother," she managed to respond.

Don Antonio offered his arms to his mother and to Eleanor, and they made their way to the large table. Eleanor was thoroughly confused. She had been to sit beside some cousin of sorts, and she had inwardly groaned at that prospect. She had caught the twinkle, though, in her grandmother's eyes. The old lady had reacted quickly and had tossed the lucky lot to her granddaughter.

"I am very pleezed to meet you, Meez Eleanor," Doña Maria said in her accented English which was nevertheless easy to understand. "I owe your dear father my life and my happiness."

"Yes, he told us that story a few days ago," Eleanor answered. "It did not seem that dramatic."

"Your father makes his achievements look small. He eez much too modest. But you, you look very much like your mother, and I mean it as a compliment."

"Thank you, Doña Maria."

"I was so happy to learn that your father and mother had found their way together again. He was, I should say, most unhappy over their rift. Your mother is such a wonderful woman."

"Yes, she is," Eleanor smiled. "I must congratulate you on your excellent English, Madam. Have you been to England before?"

"No, this is my first visit. I learned a little as a child. We lived in Algeciras and we had some contact with the English in Gibraltar. Then, when my son learned English from a tutor, I listened in."

"She made me learn English. At first I hated it. Now I am glad, of course," Don Antonio offered. "Do you speak a second language, Senorita Carter?"

Eleanor blushed.

"Yes, I learned French, and Latin, of course."

They were interrupted by the serving of the first course, smoked Scottish salmon with scrambled eggs and toasted bread. Nadine must be in charge of the kitchen, Eleanor mused. She looked around. Most all the invited guests had arrived, and her grandmother's dining hall was positively crammed.

Her parents with Richard were sitting to the right of Lord and Lady Lambert, while the left side was occupied by the Wilkes with Ellen. She could tell that her friend was not eating at all. She looked downright terrified and ready to bolt.

'Who wouldn't be?' Eleanor thought.

His Royal Highness, the Duke of Clarence, heir apparent to the throne, was sitting next to Ellen. This was the first time that young Eleanor was in the same room with Royalty, but she was sitting several places down the table. For Ellen it must be nerve wrecking. The Duke, although dubbed the 'Pineapple Head' by some, was a modest and charming man, however, and Ellen's beauty could not be lost on him. Eleanor could see that Ellen relaxed after a while, especially when Anita Heyworth included her in the conversation. Anita had the Duke as table partner, and if she was exasperated, she hid it well.

"Shall we hear some important announcement today?" Donna Maria asked suddenly.

"Yes, Doña Maria," Eleanor smiled, happy to have a topic for conversation. "My brother and Miss Trilby will announce their engagement."

"How wonderful!" Doña Maria smiled. "They are both so handsome. It will be a marriage of love, I suppose?" There was a wistful note in her voice, Eleanor thought.

Eleanor nodded. "They were made for one another," she said with conviction.

"Tell me, Senorita Eleanor," Don Antonia asked, "is it just this family or are all the English women that beautiful?"

Eleanor blushed crimson, and she did not know how to respond.

"Antonio, you have embarrassed her!" Doña Maria chided her son.

"Please forgive me," Don Antonio begged. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. It is just that everybody told me that English women could not compare in beauty with Spanish or French women. Now that I have seen the ladies present, I find that to be a gross misrepresentation. It is not just your family. Who is the lady across from us, with the black hair?"

"That is Lady Brougham, Lord Brougham is over there," Eleanor indicated, glad to divert attention from herself. "Her beauty is legendary."

"She is so beautiful, a man would gladly die for her. And the Lady next to His Royal Highness?"

Eleanor smiled. "That is Anita Heyworth. She is the most famous actress in all of England. She is one of my mother's closest and oldest friends. She is wonderful! She will retire from the stage in a few weeks. You should try and get seats for her last performances. The theatre will not be the same without her."

"I am astonished that an actress is so well received in society," Doña Maria cut in. "At home, they are not regarded as well."

"Miss Heyworth is different," Eleanor bristled. "She's never involved in scandals and she does not have affairs. She lives for her art."

"I did not mean to be derogatory," Doña Maria hastened to clarify. "I am sure she must be different, seeing that she is table partner to a Royal Prince. And you, my dear? You must have suitors lined up along the street."

"I am only seventeen. This is my first season in society," Eleanor said shyly. "Nobody has taken notice of me so far."

"Then the English men must be blind or stupid," Don Antonio smiled. "I have never seen hair like yours or your Mother's. It looks like spun gold in the candlelight."

Eleanor was too self-conscious to let him get away with that praise.

"The problem is that hair like mine goes along with freckles in summer."

"What are freckles?" the young man asked.

"Little brown spots all over my nose. Like the few ones I have now, but a lot more."

Don Antonio wanted to say that he found her freckles very appealing, but he checked himself in time. It would not be proper to press a young Senorita that strongly on the first acquaintance.

He admitted to himself, though, that she made a huge impression on him. Her lively green eyes seemed to look into his very soul. And her hair! A thought struck him. He had heard once that red-haired women had very sparse pubic hair, and almost no body hair.

He realised that he must dispense with that line of thought. His manhood was pressing urgently against his breeches, producing a noticeable bulge. He represented his country in London, and he must not give reason for scandal! Eleanor's very presence made it very hard for him to overcome the passion that gripped him. Luckily, there was a diversion now.

Lord Lambert had risen, and the conversation around the tables died as everyone looked at their host.

"My dear friends and family, most honoured guests. This very day, twenty years ago, it was my privilege to announce the engagement of my daughter Harriet with Sir Anthony Carter. Looking at them today, after twenty years, makes my heart swell with happiness, for it was a match made in heaven."

A few 'Hear, hear!' could be heard, and Sir Anthony kissed his wife's hand while she beamed at her husband with love and happiness in her green eyes.

"My wife and I feel truly blessed with the choices our children made, and I can count six grandchildren of ours around this table. This evening, this happy anniversary, is also about one of my grandchildren. However, to elaborate on that, I must ask our friend, Sir Jonathan Wilkes, and my son-in-law, Sir Anthony Carter, to speak up."

Both men stood up, and Sir Anthony indicated with a gesture that Sir Jonathan should start.

"You may have asked yourself what my family and I were doing sitting to the left of our hosts." This raised some murmur and chuckles around the table. "I myself certainly do not warrant such a preferential treatment. Therefore I must owe this either to my wonderful wife Lucy or to our daughter Ellen. The announcement we have to make is about Ellen, though." He indicated that Sir Anthony should continue.

"The last months have been very exciting for me and my family, to say the least. In fact, we lived through a veritable cyclone, a cyclone that revolved with ever increasing strength around my friend Sir Jonathan's lovely daughter Ellen. Caught in the middle of that whirlwind was my son Richard. With no little difficulty, braving some rather big waves, he made his way to the calm eye of the storm where he found peace and happiness. In order to lay claim on that place, he has asked Sir Jonathan for the hand of his daughter Ellen."

"And seeing that there is hardly a better husband to be found for Ellen, it was my pride and pleasure to consent to their engagement," Sir Jonathan finished.

Ellen and Richard rose from their seats and joined behind Richard's grandparents who both rose and stood to either side of the couple. Lord Lambert rose his glass.

"Your Highness, my Ladies and Gentlemen, I raise my glass to the happy future of my grandson Richard Carter and his lovely bride Ellen Trilby, and I ask you to join me in my toast. May they be as happy in marriage as their parents and grandparents!"

The cheers and the clinking of glasses that greeted that toast was almost deafening. One after the other, with the Duke in the lead, the guests rose from the table to congratulate Ellen and Richard. Lady Lambert ushered the couple into the neighbouring room, and thus, the dining hall emptied rapidly. The servants rushed in to remove the china, the glasses, the silver ware, the linen, and, at last, the tables, to clear the room.

The musicians then set up their instruments, and not a half hour later, Lord Lambert asked his guests to return to the great hall for the evening's entertainment.

Anita Heyworth introduced a younger colleague from the theatre, and together, they delivered a bantering dialogue from Shakespeare's 'Much Ado about Nothing', much to the enjoyment of the assembled guests. Sir Anthony presented a huge flower bouquet to Anita, and her partner received a heavy purse for his troubles.

When the music started, Richard and Ellen opened the dance, followed by their parents and the Duke who was delighted to have Anita as his dance partner. After the first dance, the principals retired from the floor, and Eleanor found herself facing the young Colombian ambassador. She could hardly breath with excitement as they whirled around the floor to the Viennese Waltz. The wine she had drunk combined with the excitement of the dance, and she lost all her shyness. Her normal, outgoing personality asserted itself, and Don Antonio could not avert his eyes from the vivacious beauty in his arms. They danced to almost every piece played, and they dreaded the moment when the music would stop.

That moment, though, came around two o'clock. Reluctantly, Don Antonio released Eleanor.

"This was the most pleasurable evening I ever had, Miss Eleanor."

Eleanor smiled at him radiantly.

"I loved every minute of it," she agreed.

"Will you allow me to call upon you in the next days? I would really enjoy to see you again."

Eleanor blushed prettily. "That is for my mother to decide, Don Antonio. You must ask her. Personally, I would love nothing better than to see you again."

She shivered, when the young man bent over her hand and kissed it, and she curtseyed deeply to hide her confusion. When she looked up, he smiled at her again and turned to escort his mother. She watched him disappear with a longing that had been unknown to her just a few hours before. She was torn from her dreamlike state when she found herself in a violent hug.

"This evening was a dream!" Ellen gushed. "Did you enjoy it, too?"

The deep blush was answer enough.

"I saw you dance with the young Spaniard all the time. How was it?" Ellen asked mischievously.

"Wonderful and scary," Eleanor managed to say.

"He was quite smitten with you. Isn't that wonderful? The most exotic and eligible bachelor in London, and he stayed with you the whole evening! You must have made a huge impression on him. Not that I am surprised. You are so beautiful! I will be proud to be your sister."

Finally, Eleanor regained her speech.

"And you? Charming royalty with your beauty! What with you and Anita sitting on either side, the Duke did not know where to look first."

"Wasn't it funny, the way he acted around Anita? It was almost like she was the Queen and he a commoner. She treated him like a Queen, too."

Eleanor grinned at the other girl.

"Don't act so superior! Your were rather awed at first, in his presence."

"I was," Ellen admitted with a self-conscious smile. "He is just a normal person, though, once you talk to him. Even funny, if you are partial to his wicked sense of humour. What about your ambassador, though? Will you see him again?"

"Stop making me blush!" Eleanor protested. "Yes, he will call on us, he said. Can you believe that?"

"Easily! Your mother managed to get the best man available, and you will achieve nothing less. Now, let us retire, shall we? My feet are positively killing me, and I reek of sweat. Will you help me wash?"

The girls shared a guest room for the night, since the principal guests all slept at the Lamberts'. Richard rushed over to the girls, seeing them standing alone, and he gave his fiancé a scorching kiss that left both of them breathless. Eleanor slapped her brother's arm.

"You are not married, yet. Break it off."

"Aren't you just envious because a certain dashing young ambassador has already left?" he taunted his sister, only to receive a painful jab to his upper arm.

"You are being outrageous!" she huffed.

"Stop teasing your sister, Richard," Ellen smiled. "She won the top prize this evening, to judge by the envious looks of the other women."

"Will you two stop it, please," Eleanor whined. "I'm confused enough as it is."

Suddenly, Richard sensed his younger sister's vulnerability, and he hugged her.

"Eleanor, I am only teasing you. I am happy that you enjoyed tonight. Never forget that I am your brother, and I love you."

"That's hard to believe sometimes," Eleanor grumbled, but she hugged him back, enjoying the comfort of his arms.



-------

Chapter 12: Like Sisters



"Did you enjoy yourself, my dear?" Doña Maria asked her son over the rattle of the coach wheels on the cobble stones.

She had spent the last hours of the ball sitting with the Carters. It had been a pleasant evening for her, the ice between her and Sir Anthony's wife had finally melted. Lady Carter had been in a very happy mood and that had helped. She realised that her son had not answered.

"Antonio! Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Err, yes, sorry Mother. I was in thought. Tell me, Mother, the Carters, would you consider them a good family?"

"Why yes. Lady Carter's father, Lord Lambert, is of an old family of Navy officers; and Lady Lambert is the granddaughter of a Marquess. Sir Anthony, of course, has humble but honourable origins, but he is a most distinguished officer. Why do you ask?"

"Their daughter Eleanor, Mother. I have never met a more fascinating girl. She is not only beautiful, she is nice and warm hearted. I felt as if I had known her for years."

Doña Maria was glad for the darkness in the coach, for she knew that she was pale with shock.

'Not that!' she thought desperately.

"She made a most positive impression on me, Antonio," she said fencing for time and trying to regain her composure. Divine inspiration came to her help. "You must not forget that she is a Protestant, a heretic. Even if we live in enlightened times, you cannot woo her. Your father was a Knight of the Golden Fleece, after all."

Obstinacy shone through when Antonio answered.

"In these enlightened times we must dispense with any prejudice based on religious faith. Isn't even a Protestant, the Duke of Wellington, a Knight of the Golden Fleece these days? The Carters are Christians, they worship the same god as we do. They just do not recognise the Pope. It is still too early, I know, but I will never sacrifice my happiness for the church. Just think how you suffered at the hands of a priest and a prioress. I know that I need to get to know her much better. If she feels like I do, though, I will talk to her father and we will reach a solution."

"Antonio, be reasonable! You just met the girl, and already you want to talk to her father? She is quite young still, and I cannot imagine that her mother will be too happy to have a suitor for her already."

"Do not worry, Mother! I will have all the patience in the world. If she feels like I do, I will wait years if need be."

"Promise me to talk to me before you commit yourself in any way. I beg you, Antonio!"

"Of course, Mother," Don Antonio said lightly. He bent over to kiss his mother's cheek.

Doña Maria's mind was in turmoil. She had to speak with the Carters urgently. But how? She had, after all, assured Anthony Carter that her son Antonio had been fathered by her late husband, Don Alonso. How she wanted to believe that herself! Had not her husband been a changed man after she was returned from her captivity? The very first evening back in Cartagena, he had made love to her, gently and with surprising prowess. That was when her life had really turned for the better, and for the next fifteen years, he had remained her loyal husband. Antonio was born a full nine months after her return to Cartagena, and there had not been a shadow of a doubt as to the fatherhood of Don Alonso. Seeing her tall son stand opposite Anthony's son Richard, she thought she saw a likeness of features. Both young men were tall, and they shared a high forehead and a very similar nose. Could Richard Carter be her son's half-brother? Worse, could he be half-brother to Eleanor Carter?

Eleanor Carter had a striking likeness to her mother. What if Anthony Carter's blood made her son react so strongly to the daughter of Harriet Carter? Was everything a cruel joke of fate? Would her son and Anthony's daughter be punished for the adultery of their parents?

How could anyone prevent a disaster? What if she told her son that he was possibly the natural son of Anthony Carter? He would be devastated, of that she was sure. He would view her with contempt. He might even challenge his natural father over the seduction of his mother to restore the family honour.

Maybe, if she kept her peace, this problem may be solved by time. She could see to it that Antonio met other women. Maybe he could be wooed away. Or perhaps her worries were unfounded, based solely on her bad conscience over her indiscretion?

Those were the thoughts that revolved in the head of Doña Maria as she lay in her bed without finding sleep.

Sleep did not come easy to Eleanor Carter and Ellen Trilby, either. They shared a room and a large canopied bed for that night, but both were too excited, in spite of their exhaustion, to find sleep.

"Do you think, Don Antonio will call upon me?" Eleanor asked her friend.

Ellen felt in the darkness until she touched the other girl's hand, and she pressed it.

"Don't worry! The only doubt that I have is whether he will be here before or after breakfast tomorrow. How did you like his mother?"

"She was nice enough. Why do you ask?"

"He is her only son. If you get him, you will get her, too," Ellen laughed.

"I suppose I could get along with her," Eleanor mused. "She is a little intimidating, though, don't you agree?"

"She has a commanding presence, almost like royalty. As wife of the Governor of Cartagena, she must have been quite powerful. I thought your mother had some unresolved issues with her. Your father took pains not to appear too familiar with her."

"I think Mother is a little jealous of Donna Maria. After all, she sailed to Cartagena in my father's cabin as his guest while Mother was married to that hateful Rupert Palmer."

"Do you think, your father and Donna Maria may have..." Ellen hazarded.

"Oh my god, I never thought of that. She must have been very beautiful and young, twenty years ago."

A thought struck Ellen.

"You better be careful, Eleanor. Your Spanish Grande may just be your half-brother!"

Eleanor almost shrieked in her embarrassment.

"Ellen, you are so naughty! The thought alone! He does not look like my father at all, does he? Ellen, seriously! Please say something! Oh, you're impossible!"

Ellen was shaking uncontrollably in the fits of violent giggles, doubling over with suppressed laughter. When she finally was able to control her voice, she tried to mollify her bed fellow.

"Eleanor, hick, I was only tea-hick-sing you."

"Oh you!" Eleanor fumed, poking her fingers into Ellen's ribs, causing new spasms of laughter.

"Stop it -hick-! Please -hick-!" Ellen finally managed to plead.

Eleanor had already stopped. In fact, she had frozen. Tickling Ellen, with Ellen thrashing around in her futile attempts to escape, she had misjudged the other girls position in the darkness, and she suddenly felt a breast in her hand, complete with erect nipple. For a full second, she remained motionless, with her hands on Ellen's boob, then she withdrew them hastily.

"I'm sorry Ellen, I didn't mean to, you know..." she stammered.

"Feel me up?" Ellen suggested teasingly. "For a moment, I thought Richard had sneaked into the bed."

Eleanor thought her head would glow in the darkness. Curiosity got the better of her, though.

"You let Richard feel your boobies?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes, once, and it felt wonderful. I though they would burst when he suckled on my nipples."

Eleanor felt up her own budding breasts.

"I don't feel anything there," she stated sadly.

Ellen felt light headed. For one, she had had a few to many glasses of wine. For second, the tickling and the talk had excited her. And thirdly, she wanted to get back at Eleanor for the tickling. With uncanny accuracy, her right hand moved in the dark and closed around Eleanor's left breast. Eleanor gasped, both with shock and with the unexpected sensation. Ellen felt a hard nipple poking through the night shirt, and she bent over, closing her mouth over the protrusion. Her wet kiss soaked the night shirt through, and the sucking sensation on her breast made Eleanor squirm. When Ellen finally relented, Eleanor was breathing heavily. She shuddered when the coldness of the wet cloth replaced the warm feeling of Ellen's mouth.

"See, you like that, too," Ellen stated smugly.

"How could I know?" Eleanor retorted. "It is not like I could do this to myself to find out."

"No," Ellen laughed softly, "that would seem awkward. And they are too small to reach!"

That set her off giggling again.

"Ellen, do you play with yourself, too?"

"Play with myself?" Ellen did not quite understand.

"You know, between your legs," Eleanor whispered.

"I tried to put my finger in once or twice, but it hurt."

"So you don't, you know, do it? I do it almost every day."

"Do what?"

"Play with your fanny!" In her exasperation, Eleanor almost shouted the naughty word.

"Oh that. Richard did that once, before you almost caught us. I thought I died with pleasure when he touched me. You do that yourself?"

"Of course! I think of someone, imagine to be with him, and I play with myself until I reach my release."

It was Ellen's turn to blush. How stupid of her!

"Who do you think of?" she asked to mask her confusion. "I mean, who did you think of before you met Don Antonio?"

That got her another minute of tickling. She squirmed, trying to protect her tummy, and was surprised when Eleanor deftly squeezed her breasts. This time, Eleanor did not remove her hands.

"Ellen?"

"Yes," Ellen whispered.

"Your boobies feel wonderful. I wish mine were as nice."

In response, Ellen reached out and took Eleanor's smallish breasts in her palms, squeezing the erect nipples between her thumbs and fingers.

"Yours are lovely, too. Your nipples are really hard."

"Mhm," Eleanor moaned. "Keep doing that."

Her right hand dropped from Ellen's breast, and Ellen could hear the rustle of fabric.

"Are you touching yourself?" she whispered.

"Yes," came the dreamy response. "Why don't you do it, too?"

Ellen paused, her hands still squeezing Eleanor's small tits. Hesitantly, she dropped her right hand from her friend's chest and moved it between her own thighs, still outside the night shift. The touch caused a delightful tingle, and she gasped.

Ellen decided that she would rather be hanged for a sheep than for a lamb. She drew up the hem of her shift and let her hand explore her naked crotch. She was surprised at the wetness she found, more than when Lady Carter had examined her and almost as much as when Richard had caressed her.

"Nice, isn't it?" Eleanor asked, a tone of urgency in her voice. "Who are you thinking of?"

"Richard, of course," Ellen whispered, not entirely honest. It was true that she thought of Richard touching her, but her excitement was mostly derived from the situation. Or, more specifically, from her future sister-in-law laying beside her, frantically rubbing herself. "And you? Are you thinking of your handsome half-brother?"

Ellen had meant it teasingly, but the words had a strong effect of Eleanor. Ellen heard a sharp intake of breath, and then a muffled scream broke from Eleanor's mouth. She had bitten into the pillow to prevent herself from screaming loudly.

With her one hand still on Eleanor's breast, Ellen could feel the other girl's convulsions. Pinching Eleanor's nipple, she worked her own hand furiously between her legs and, within a few seconds, reached a peak of pleasure herself.

They both lay panting beside each other afterwards. Eleanor was still shuddering in the aftershocks of her pleasure, and Ellen reached out and put her arm around the younger girl's shoulders. Eleanor yielded and cuddled up against Ellen's shoulders. She did not know where to put her hand, though, the heat of Ellen's skin under the night shift making her jerk it away anywhere she touched. Ellen finally took the hand and placed it on her right breast, holding it there.

"Leave your hand there, it feels nice," she whispered, her chin on Eleanor's head.

"You will not mind?" Eleanor asked timidly. "You are not mad at me?"

"Why should I? We both felt good, didn't we? I have never seen another woman in pleasure. Well, I haven't seen you, but I could feel you. It was exciting."

"I feel so naughty! When you called Antonio my half-brother, something exploded in my head. Am I sick to think that way?"

"Sssh! You did not do anything. He isn't your half-brother, anyway." That caused another shudder in Eleanor. "I was only teasing you. You know something, though? You are at my mercy now. All I have to say is 'half-brother', to make you go crazy."

Eleanor stiffened. She was mortified at the thought that this would come out.

"Ellen," she started, almost choking.

Ellen had sensed the reaction though.

"Don't worry, darling," she said soothingly. "You are my sister. I would never do anything to hurt you, I promise. However, when we are alone, I will tease you mercilessly," she could not help to add, and Eleanor could almost hear the grin on Ellen's face.

"You are so naughty, Ellen. I will have to warn Richard of you."

"You mean your 'brother'?" Ellen asked innocently. "Aagh!"

Eleanor had stabbed her ribs with her index finger.

"Stop it already, or I swear, I will tickle you until you will scream the house down!"

"Aren't you afraid that your 'brother' will find us like this?" Ellen asked innocently. "No! Stop! I swear I'll be good now. Stop!" she screamed.

Eleanor stopped, worried that Ellen might indeed wake up the house.

"That will teach you," she stated with mock grim in her voice. Suddenly, she felt her face in Ellen's hand, and a moment later, her lips were pressed against Ellen's mouth in a long kiss.

"Eleanor, I cannot say how happy I am that you are Richard's sister. I love you, you know? I never had siblings, and it is so wonderful to have somebody my age to be silly with."

Eleanor had a big lump in her throat.

"I love you too, Ellen," she whispered.

They fell asleep in each other's arms half an hour later.

Harriet Carter woke up to a most pleasant sensation. Her husband, lying behind her in spoon fashion, had contrived to move the hem of her night shift up around her waist. He had slipped his erect rod between her legs, and he moved it back and forth, rubbing the entrance of her sex and her most sensitive spot with the head of his organ.

"Mmmh, that is a nice way to wake up, darling," Harriet purred.

She opened her legs slightly and arched her back to present her sex at a more favourable angle. Indeed, her husbands cock head found purchase with the next forward movement, and she felt her lips open to his penetration. She always thought of that position as one of her favourites, and she sighed contentedly while her husband made love to her with gentle, rocking movements.

Light filtered through the curtains, but the house was still quiet. They had all the time in the world, and Anthony Carter felt no hurry at all. He knew how lucky he was, blessed as he was with a wife who was not only a willing, but an enthusiastic and even demanding bed fellow. Other men of his acquaintance visited brothels to quench their hunger for intimate companionship, or they kept concubines in town. Anthony Carter never felt a need for that. For twenty years, he and Harriet had pleasured and comforted each other to their hearts' content, and the sex had never turned stale. This had also kept their love intact and contributed to a family life free from tensions. Of course, either of them had their quirks, but in the context of a loving relationship, such minor points never caused much irritation. Yes, he was lucky.

Now Harriet turned her head to the side, offering her lips to him, and he kissed them with passion. Their breath mingled, and their tongues danced a passionate pas de deux, while he kept up the sawing in and out movement. The kiss had heightened their level of arousal, though, and his member plunged deeper into Harriet's womb, as she pressed her backside against him on every stroke. The increased pressure, the slightly altered angle at which he penetrated, quickly fuelled his lust towards his impending release. Harriet seemed to feel this, too, and she pressed her arse back and rotated her hips to increase the friction even more. With a mutual, suppressed cry, they both reached the peak of their lust. For a few minutes, Anthony kept up a gentle movement with his softening member, until their lust ebbed away.

"I love you, Harriet," he whispered into her ear.

"Mmmh, I do like to hear that," Harriet answered, the lust still affecting her tone of voice. "I love you, too, Tony."

"I pity Richard. To know his bride is sleeping under the same roof must be hard for him."

Harriet giggled.

"Very hard, indeed!" she grinned. "Perhaps we should give them a chance to be alone for an hour or two."

"Do you think that would we wise?"

"I can talk to both of them before. They can love each other without risk. I seem to remember that we used to enjoy each other before we were married."

"You better clear that with Lucy first."

"Oh, don't worry, she won't object, I'm sure. We shall invite them all to our house for dinner and make them stay. I'm not sure I want Richard and Ellen start anything in my mother's house."

"Oh no? What about that night when she put me into that guest room across the hall from your bedroom? Your mother knows about these things, believe me!"

Harriet laughed.

"You are probably right about her. Still, it's her house, and it's not my decision. Shall we get up? I want to make sure that I do my share in helping my mother."

"Of course," Anthony answered and disentangled himself from his wife.

At the wash stand, they cleaned each other with a wash cloth. To Harriet's amusement, her husband showed signs of arousal again when they were done, but she thought of the implications, too. Melting into Anthony's arms, she looked up at him.

"You have a very stupid wife, did you know that?"

"Of course I do," he answered with a smile. "What is your point?"

"I was jealous of Maria Ruiz," she said in a small voice. "There you have it. I know it's stupid, but I could never help myself. She is such a beautiful woman, and I know you have been with her. I suppose I was envious, too. She had you when I had Rupert. I resented that. I want you to know, though, that I am over it. We had a chance to talk yesterday. In fact, I think she is a remarkable woman, and I will try to be her friend."

"I'm sure she will appreciate it, Harriet, as I appreciate it. I made me sad that you could not feel friendly towards her. You know, that she had a lot to do with us getting together again? We spent many an evening talking, in those old days, and she gave me an insight into what women feel, something I had never considered. She also told me to quit the self pity that had taken possession of me back then."

Harriet buried her face in his chest.

"I have to bear that in mind, too," she said under her breath. "We may be related one of these days, who knows."

Anthony rose his eyebrows, the question obvious.

"I case you have not noticed, your daughter spent the entire evening dancing and talking with Don Antonio," Harriet stated smugly.

"I did not notice that," he answered.

Harriet had to laugh at his expression. Like every father, her husband had to be prodded into the realisation that his daughter had grown up into a woman.

"You would not object to the young man visiting us, would you?" she asked slyly.

Anthony was confused. He almost blurted out that Antonio may be his son, but then he remembered how Donna Maria had told him in a private moment, during his second visit to Cartagena, that her son could only be Don Alonso's offspring. That assurance that had saddened him somewhat, as he admitted to himself.

"He is a fine young man, no doubt. Don't you think Eleanor is still too young, though?"

"I was more than a year younger when I met you," she reminded him.

This took the wind out of his sails. He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath but stopped when he saw Harriet's amused grin. After they were properly dressed, they went downstairs where a breakfast had been prepared. Richard was not up yet, but Eleanor and Ellen were, and they sat together talking animatedly.

Anthony always thought his daughter was pretty, and he attributed that to her likeness to Harriet. Today, though, she was a radiant beauty. When he entered, she jumped from her seat and ran over to hug him.

"Good morning, father!"

Anthony knew that he had a soft spot for her, and he also knew that she knew it. When she approached him in that way, it usually meant that she wanted something from him, and it further meant that she would get it, too. He sighed, therefore.

"I take it that you want our permission for Don Antonio to visit and see you?"

Eleanor pouted. It was an impressive pout, to be sure.

"Cannot I just want to wish you a good morning?"

"Of course, Eleanor. A good morning to you, too. Now, when is he coming?"

The pout made room for a self-conscious smile.

"I don't know yet, father. May he come?"

Anthony looked at his daughter, and he saw the vulnerability of the first serious crush.

"He seems to be a decent young man, and of course I befriended his father. I also consider his mother a good friend. As long as he shows the proper respect and manners, of which I am sure, we shall welcome his visits."

"Thank you!"

Anthony found himself in a violent hug. Laughing self-consciously, he freed himself.

"Easy there, Eleanor. We will probably start by inviting him and his mother for tea." He saw her face fall. "You can show him the music room, provided your brother's bride will be willing to be present as well."

He saw a smirk pass between the two young women, and he was not sure anymore whether the precaution he had insisted on would really suffice.

"I hope this will not entail an obligation to listen to Eleanor's piano play," Ellen grinned, receiving a glare from Eleanor.



-------

Chapter 13: Burying the Hatchet



Don Antonio Ruiz de Costa was well aware of the rules of gentlemanly conduct. For instance, it was good manners to call upon the Lamberts the next day to pay the "digestion call" and to thank them for their hospitality. That this was a welcome excuse to see Eleanor Carter again certainly added to his motivation. He arrived at eleven o'clock, hoping that the Carters would still be at the Lamberts' house.

Lady Lambert received him in a small tea room. He thanked her for the invitation and conveyed his mother's thanks as well. He also had a good look at Eleanor's grandmother, and he had to concede that she was a striking woman, in spite of her age. If Eleanor Carter was anything like her mother or her grandmother, she was not likely to turn into a homely matron. Mentally, he chalked up another big point in Eleanor's favour.

Eleanor Lambert looked at the young man with the lenient amusement of the elders. She could read his mind as if he had blurted out his thoughts.

"It is so nice of you to call, in spite of the short night. Did you have breakfast yet?"

When Antonio replied that he had not broken his fast yet, a twinkle appeared in her eye.

"My family is having breakfast right now. Would you care to join us?"

He knew he was being teased, but he did not really care. With all the dignity he could muster with his twenty-one years, he replied.

"That is extremely kind of you, milady. I would love nothing more than to join your family. For breakfast, I mean."

Becoming aware of the double meaning in his words, he blushed, something that had not happened to him in years.

"Let us start with breakfast, Don Antonio, and then we shall see," Lady Lambert laughed and led the young man into the dining room.

-------

Ellen and Eleanor were still engaged in their little banter when the servant announced a visitor.

"M'lord, m'lady, the Colombian Ambassador is calling to pay his respects."

"I shall receive him in the tea room, Frederick."

She turned to the table, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

"He is probably just paying a courtesy visit. I will get rid of him and be back in a few minutes. Don't let that interrupt your breakfast, dears."

"Grandmother!" Eleanor whined, on the verge of panic.

"Would you rather I invite him to breakfast, dear?" Lady Lambert asked innocently.

"Mother, please stop it!" Harriet Carter demanded, unable to control the laughter that bubbled up. "I have a feeling he did not really come to see you in the first place."

Lady Lambert weighed that argument while Eleanor turned beet red. Ellen had whispered something in her ear and now covered her face with a napkin while her shoulders shook in silent laughter. Sir Anthony had pity with his daughter.

"Stop teasing Eleanor, all of you! Mother, please get the young man in here. He is a nice young man, and there is nothing for Eleanor to be ashamed of."

Lady Lambert nodded and left the room. Eleanor jumped up.

"Ellen, can you help me please? I need to put on my make up. Ellen! Stop being silly! Oh, you're quite impossible!"

Ellen had dissolved in giggles again; tears were running over her cheeks. Again, Sir Anthony interceded.

"Eleanor, stay here. The young man does not want to see you all made up. Let him have a glimpse of the real you. You look at lot like your mother, and I fell in love with her when her hair was salt-encrusted and tangled, and her face was sun burnt. Things like that do not matter to the right man."

Eleanor looked at her father, and she saw that he was earnest. Harriet bent over to kiss him.

"Did I really look that bad?"

"You looked like a drowned cat," he laughed, "but you also looked very human and lovely."

"I look like I just got up from bed!" Eleanor protested weakly.

"That is exactly how we men like our women best," Lord Lambert interposed, causing laughter around the table. His lordship was inclined to such remarks only when his wife was not present.

Eleanor resigned, and Ellen's giggle subsided, leaving her with a hick up that she desperately tried to suppress.

'I'm sorry, ' she mouthed to Eleanor.

'You'll be even more sorry, ' Eleanor returned with a glare.

The door opened, and Eleanor jumped, causing Ellen to break out in helpless giggling again.

For it was Richard, who entered and looked around.

"This seems to be a merry breakfast; the laughter could be heard on the third floor," he grinned. He rushed around the table to kiss Ellen's hand. "Good morning, my love!"

Ellen was still laughing helplessly, the sight of Eleanor jumping up only to see her brother coming in had been too much. Richard was confused.

"What is so funny?" he asked. Then he saw Eleanor's face. "Are they teasing you, Eleanor?"

His sister nodded, the blush spreading all over her face and neck. Richard had always felt protective of his younger sister. He bent down to hug her.

"Don't let them," he whispered.

"It's your fiancé who is the worst tease," Eleanor returned accusingly, not sure whether she should laugh or cry.

"I shall spank her for it at the first opportunity," Richard answered in a stage whisper, causing Ellen to look up, wiping her eyes. Eleanor hugged her brother gratefully.

"I shall help you," she stated with mock grim in her voice.

At the last moment, Ellen swallowed the reply she was about to make. That was good, because the door opened again, and Lady Lambert showed Don Antonio in.

"I asked Don Antonio to join us for breakfast," she announced. "I hope you do not mind? No? Please have a seat, Don Antonio!"

There was an empty seat across from Eleanor, and without hesitation, Don Antonio claimed it. Before he sat, he bowed to Harriet, Ellen, and lastly and most pronounced, to Eleanor who smiled back.

"I trust you enjoined the last evening, Don Antonio?" Sir Anthony enquired politely.

"Most certainly, Sir Anthony. It was the best evening I had since I arrived in London," Antonio answered, but he looked at Eleanor while he spoke.

"I must thank you for the way you entertained my daughter. She enjoyed herself immensely," Harriet added.

"I assure you that it was my pleasure entirely, Lady Carter. If I may say so, I have rarely seen so much female beauty in one room, and your daughter could easily hold her own."

Eleanor smiled at the compliment. Antonio's entry had wiped away her self-consciousness, her embarrassment, and she felt strangely at ease.

"You give me too much praise, Don Antonio," she answered. "I thank you kindly, though."

The breakfast continued. Andrew and Emily Lambert joined the table a little later, and it was close to two o'clock when the group parted company. Don Antonio left first, but not before he and his mother had been invited for dinner that very evening. Eleanor accompanied him to the door when he left.

She returned to the dining hall with a furious blush and expecting a merciless teasing. In her absence, however, Sir Anthony had asked everyone to leave her in peace, and they complied. Ellen was to convey a dinner invitation to the Wilkes, and she left, too. Before she left, she hugged a reluctant Eleanor and whispered in her ear.

"He is a wonderful man. You are so lucky!"

Eleanor looked into Ellen's eyes, and she could see no trace of teasing. Sighing, she hugged her back.

"I will still get back at you!" she promised, and was surprised to hear a delighted giggle from Ellen.

"I'm looking forward to it, darling!"

Suddenly, Eleanor was very much aware of Ellen's breasts pressing against her, and she hastily broke the embrace.

"Are you sure that we will be welcome, Antonio?" Doña Maria asked her son for the third time. "You did not pressure them?"

"No, Mother, I promise. Lady Carter invited us for dinner, and it was her idea."

"I have to believe you," she sighed. "I shall go and dress, then. You should dress in that light brown coat, it is very becoming for you."

"Yes, mother," Antonio Ruiz de Costa answered stoically.

From experience, he knew that he was in for at least an hour of waiting. He honestly did not know why his mother spent so much time dressing when she was dressed in black most of the time. He knew how much care women invested on their clothing, even taking pains to co-ordinate their undergarments, as if anybody would ever see those! His mother had been a widow for almost four years, but she still wore black dresses most of the time. Yesterday, she had compromised for a dark grey dress with black fittings. He wished his mother would start living again.

With the help of his confidential servant, Ramon, he shaved and dressed carefully. Finished, he went downstairs, fully expecting to wait for another half hour until his mother appeared. He was surprised therefore, to hear her voice from the entrance hall. Walking down the last steps he saw his mother putting on a warm cloak. He forgot to close his mouth. Under the cloak, she was wearing a burgundy red dress, set off with white lace. Instead of the tight bun she usually wore, her shining black hair was arranged so that it cascaded down her back. He blinked, but the beautiful woman was still there.

Doña Maria looked at her son, watching for signs of disapproval. All she could see in his eyes, however, was admiration. Raising her eyebrows, she cast a questioning glance.

"Mother, you look stunning!" Antonio stated.

"Well, I have to uphold the honour of Spanish women against all those blonde and red headed beauties. I cannot do that while wearing black," she explained rationally, but her shining black eyes showed that she enjoyed his response.

Maria was slightly worried about the response she might get from Harriet Carter. The last evening, they had spoken with each other, and for the first time, Maria had not felt any hostility from Harriet's side. How would she react, though, to a Maria who looked like an eligible woman? She had to find out.

They arrived at the Carter's house, and Maria had a feeling that the large mansion was not really fitting to a man like Anthony Carter. The facade was excessively ornate, and it was made to look bigger than it was in the first place. Once they were shown in, however, the impression changed. Here, she could see the Carters' personality. The Carters, with Harriet in the lead, came to greet them.

"Doña Maria, I am so delighted that you found the time to respond on such short notice," Harriet smiled, taking in her visitor's appearance. "If I may say so, you look wonderful tonight."

"I just could not stand grey and black anymore," Maria answered, delighted by the honest praise, and aiming to return the compliment. "Dark colours are much more suited for you to contrast your wonderful hair."

Harriet nodded, smiling. "We shall have more opportunity to flatter each other later. Let me greet your son first. Don Antonio, I am most delighted that you could make the time tonight. And I speak not only for myself," she could not help but add.

Don Antonio mumbled a polite response, but it was clear that he was greatly distracted. Eleanor had approached the new guests, and the two young people were lost in each other's eyes.

"Senorita Eleanora, how wonderful to see you again," Antonio managed.

"The pleasure is all mine, Excellency," Eleanor responded with a curtsey.

"Why don't we show you to the dining room?" Sir Anthony spoke up. "The Wilkes have already arrived, and we may just as well get comfortable. Mr. Little, please let Miss Ellen and my son know that the guests have arrived."

The tall African, still officially Sir Anthony's coxswain, bowed shortly and turned to go upstairs when he was stopped by Doña Maria.

"John Little? But of course! How could I not recognise you? It is so good to see you again. I trust you are well?"

"Thank you, Doña Maria, it could scarcely be better. If I may, I would like to convey the respectful greetings of my wife, Ines."

"Ines?" Doña Maria expostulated. "Ines Ruiz?"

"Ines Little, for almost twenty years, Doña Maria."

"She is not here, is she?"

"No, we have our own house, seeing that she does not work for Sir Anthony."

Maria stepped forward and put her hand on John Little's arm, startling him slightly.

"Would you and your wife care to pay a visit to me at our embassy? I would really enjoy to see her again, and you, too, of course. I owe her so much and she was a wonderful companion to me."

"We would both feel honoured, Doña Maria," John Little answered in his careful English, now even more perfect than twenty years ago. Bowing again, he turned to walk upstairs to convey the message to Richard and Ellen.

Maria was excited.

"To see Ines again! And married to John Little! Do they have children?"

Harriet laughed at that.

"Do they ever have! Seven of them! All healthy and tall like their father and sweet like their mother. Ines has come a long way, too. Do you know Wilson's Fashion on Bond Street? No? You should go there soon. Ines is responsible for the running of the business. She is one keen businesswoman!"

Richard and Ellen came down the stairs to greet the guests. Richard politely kissed Doña Maria's hand and exchanged a hand shake with Don Antonio. Ellen was next to greet Doña Maria, and she curtseyed nicely. Maria eyed her and noticed a rosy hue all over the girl's skin. The blue eyes were wide open as if in wonder and a few strands of hair were out of place. Doña Maria smiled friendly and knowingly.

"How nice to see you again, Miss Trilby. I trust you enjoy being engaged?"

Ellen blushed and stammered. "Very m-much so, thank you!"

Seeing Ellen's discomfort, Eleanor grinned openly at her. Ellen was quick to recover her wit, though. She stepped over to Don Antonio.

"Good evening, your Excellency. I forgot to thank you for attending our engagement yesterday."

"I had a wonderful time, Miss Trilby," Antonio answered. He, too, noticed Ellen's state, and he, like his mother, guessed the reason to be Richard Carter. 'Dios mio, ' he thought. 'This girl is temptation incarnate. She seems innocent, though, and guileless. What a lucky man Richard Carter is.'

Then his gaze caught Eleanor and the enchantment was blown away.

Eleanor had watched him and guessed what had happened. She knew the effect Ellen had on men, or women, for that matter. When Antonio's gaze returned to her, however, she could feel the same magic as before. 'He likes me better, ' she thought, and a happy smile broke out on her face.

Sir Anthony ushered his guests and family into the dining room. Don Antonio found himself placed between his mother and Eleanor again, with his mother sitting to the left of Harriet Carter. On the other side, Richard was sitting beside his father, and Ellen sat between her fiancé and Lucy. Maria Ruiz soon found herself in a lively conversation with Harriet, leaving Antonio free to concentrate on Eleanor. Which was exactly what Harriet had planned when she engaged Doña Maria in conversation.

After dinner, the family and friends moved into the music room and a very reluctant Eleanor was coerced to play the piano for them. Harriet stayed in the dining room to oversee the clearing of the table and, seeing this, Doña Maria decided to stay. She had something on her mind.

"Lady Carter, or may I call you Harriet?"

"Harriet, if you do not mind," Harriet answered with a friendly smile.

"Harriet, I want to understand something. I noticed that you felt less than friendly towards me in the past. It made me sad. I noticed that this has changed, but I would still like to know what caused your irritation."

Harriet was startled at the question and she blushed.

"Was I that obvious?" she asked, and Maria nodded with a wry smile.

"I am most sorry for that, I really am. I will be honest." She spoke in a low tone, lest none of the servants could overhear what she said. "Would you follow me, please? This is not for everybody to hear."

She led Maria into her study.

"My private domain," she smiled. "Well, as I said, I shall be honest. I resented you. Please, let me explain! I had been all but engaged to Anthony. Then, while he was at sea, something terrible happened to me, and I was forced to marry a man whom I hated. I was miserable beyond hope for more than a year until my first husband overstepped the bounds of conduct once too often and was killed in a duel. One of my best friends, Anita Heyworth, befriended Anthony then and, knowing my story, she related it to Anthony, making him understand why I had betrayed his trust. We had a long talk then, I confessed everything and he did, too." Maria gasped slightly at that. " I could not help but resent the fact that he had enjoyed the company of wonderful women while I had been stuck in that miserable marriage with a perfectly hateful man."

Harriet paused and looked at the black haired woman.

"Then I met you in Cartagena, and it was even worse."

"Why?" Doña Maria interjected. "I assure you, nothing would have happened then. I was completely reconciled with my husband."

Harriet shook her head.

"I saw you. In your beauty. Your perfect conduct, your grace, everything. I could not help myself. I asked myself whether Anthony would have ever married me if you had been available. I was intimidated by you, and I resented you for that."

Maria Ruiz nodded, comprehension dawning. She looked into Harriet's eyes.

"Did you ever consider how I would feel, seeing you at his side?" she asked.

Harriet was taken aback. "Why?"

"You have been open to me and I shall return that honesty. My marriage was not a happy one when I was abducted. My husband rarely touched me, he was much too busy with his mistress. I felt terrible. Then I was kept prisoner in the monastery, and the foul priest there molested me incessantly. I felt unwanted and dirty. Then I met this wonderful man, Anthony Carter. He was friendly to me, he took me seriously. I have never before or after felt such strong companionship with a man. That one night we spent together, for it was only one night that was granted to me, was a revelation to me. This was what love was like! Imagine how I felt to give that up the very next day!"

"I am sorry. I never saw this from your side."

"Then I saw you when you visited Cartagena. I saw the love between you and Anthony, and I knew that I owed the most wonderful experience of my life to the fact that you had temporarily dropped him, that I would have never had that experience had he already been married to you. It made me feel inadequate. Of course, I knew nothing of your dreadful first marriage."

"You inadequate?" Harriet gasped. "I am glad we spoke about this. I had no idea of what your life was like, and I am sorry for the way I felt towards you. Can we be friends from now on?"

"If you want to, I will be very happy to be your friend, Harriet."

Harriet hugged the other woman.

"I want to, if it were only for the sake of our children."

Doña Maria swallowed.

"You do not oppose Antonio?" she asked cautiously.

"I never did. Now even less, since I know you better."

"But Antonio is Catholic!"

"That is not something I am worried about. I want to see my daughter happy, and right now, she is happy in your son's presence."

"There is something that you should know, though. Oh dios mio, now you will hate me again."

"What can there be?" Harriet asked, taken aback slightly.

"From the time Antonio was born, I have always asked myself whether Anthony may have fathered him," Maria said miserably.

Harriet paled. "Do you have reason to believe that?"

"My husband never had other children with his mistress. Neither with me, after Antonio."

"Did he visit you often?"

"No, he was older than me. He cared for me, after I returned that is, but he was never that active, if you know what I want to imply."

"When was your son born?"

"Nine and a half months after my return. Right after my return, my husband saw me more often."

Harriet shook her head.

"Then your fears appear unfounded to me. Do you want us to make the children stop seeing each other because of such a remote chance? How could we explain? My daughter would never believe me if I claimed religious reasons."

"What will happen, though, if they get serious? It could be a mortal sin!"

"Always assuming that your son is really Anthony's offspring, which is not likely at all. Besides, a sin is a wilful violation of God's commandments. If they cannot know it, they cannot sin. Besides, it is really not that they look like sister and brother to me. Antonio looks a lot like you, and Eleanor, well, she is my likeness. Let us not get carried away. Perhaps their mutual infatuation will pass. If we interfere now, we will lose all our influence over them."

Maria knew that Harriet had a weighty point there. Antonio was a stubborn young man, and what she had seen of Eleanor told her that was not docile, either. How they would react to any attempts of interference by their parents was difficult to judge. Technically, she had no way of enforcing her will on her son; he was of age, and he was in London as the young ambassador of a young nation. If her influence would have to compete with Eleanor's, Maria was not so sure that she would prevail. The girl, of course was a minor and could not do anything without her parents' consent, but Harriet seemed to be unimpressed by Maria's worries.

"Maybe it is my bad conscience that makes me see ghosts," Maria conceded. "I cannot help it. I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Harriet."

"You did not, not really. Does my husband know of the possibility you mentioned?"

"I told him that he need not be concerned, back then, when you visited Cartagena. I do not really believe it myself, but I am afraid that this might be heaven's revenge for my infidelity."

"You had better forget such ideas, Maria. You had every right in the world for a little happiness back then."

Harriet startled herself with those words. Maria smiled at her.

"You astound me," she said quietly, and Harriet nodded.

"I hardly believe myself that I said that. Let us go to the music room," she suggested. "I suppose, Eleanor is finished." Upon Maria's questioning look, she added, with a grin. "She is really a horrible piano player. God knows I love my daughter, but I am under no illusions as to her musical talent."

After Eleanor had started to play, Sir Anthony motioned for Lucy and Jonathan to follow him, and he led them to his own study to pour them Cognac.

"I do not know why in the name of God we keep this piano. Nobody in this family can play it," Sir Anthony groaned.

"You keep it, so Anita can show off from time to time," his son answered. Richard had fled the music room, too.

"Fie, Richard, abandoning your affianced bride in the face of your sister's piano play," his father accused him, to Lucy's and Jonathan's laughter.

"That will be Eleanor's just revenge for the teasing Ellen gave her all morning," Richard grinned.

"Do you think, Don Antonio will visit again after that?" Jonathan Wilkes asked with a perfectly straight face and received a blow to his ribs from Lucy.

"You men are so cruel."

"I know why I keep that blasted piano. It helps to preserve the honour of my daughter!" Sir Anthony quipped.

In the meantime, Eleanor had finished the first piece. She shot a dark look at Ellen who had, however, kept her features perfectly in check.

"Why don't you go as well?" Eleanor asked.

"You have stopped, why should I?" Ellen answered with a perfectly straight face.

"Miss Eleanor," Antonio began.

"Please, don't tell me you liked it!" Eleanor snorted.

"Well, it was..."

"Horrible, I know," Eleanor said dejectedly.

"Miss Eleanor, do you want to become a piano player?"

"No."

"Why do you care then if you cannot play that stupid piano?" Don Antonio asked. "A young woman as beautiful and talented as you does not need a musical instrument to attract attention."

"In your case, it may even be detrimental!" Ellen managed to say before she finally gave in to the laughter that had been bubbling up for quite some time.

"This is not what I wanted to say," Antonio protested, barely able to contain a grin himself.

"It is the truth, nevertheless," Ellen maintained. She stood and walked to the crestfallen Eleanor. Taking her shoulders into her arms, she lifted the girl up and looked into her eyes. "Eleanor, I hope you know that I love you dearly, and I think the world of you. You will die a spinster, though, if you continue to play this piano. That is, unless you will contend yourself with a deaf husband."

To Antonio's utter amazement, the two girls collapsed into laughter, holding on to each other. He realised that their constant teasing served them to cover the strong affection they held for each other. When their laughter subsided, they hugged each other, and the image awakened unholy thoughts in the young man. He shifted uncomfortably when he realised a tightening inside his trousers. The innocent sensuality of the two lovelies in their friendly embrace had caused a rampant erection, and he crossed his legs, hoping to conceal his predicament.

"Let us not neglect our guest, Eleanor," Ellen finally said, releasing her friend. "Let me get some more refreshments."

She left with an embarrassed Don Antonio and a self-conscious Eleanor in her wake. Eleanor desperately thought of what to say. She was not sure how to express her feelings. Ellen always seemed to know what to say, her quick wit and her delightful laughter were infectious. Eleanor decided to try a jest herself.

"Don Antonio?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to visit us again? I promise not to play!"

He had to laugh at that, but her brave attempt to overcome her embarrassment also endeared her to him.

"I would very much like to visit again, Eleanor," he said softly. "Perhaps not in this room, though?"

His smile took away any sting that might have been construed into his words, and Eleanor beamed at him.

"I promise. As of this day, I promise to stop torturing my family and our guests."

"Will you still like to listen to music?" he asked speculatively.

"To good music, you mean," she laughed.

"Yes, to good music. They are playing Mr. Beethoven's new 9th symphony at Camden Hall next Friday. May I endeavour to obtain tickets for us?"

"I would love to, but I need my mother's consent. As you can appreciate, I cannot not go alone."

"Of course, my mother would accompany us, I am sure. What about your father, though? Wouldn't you need his consent, too?"

A grin appeared on Eleanor's face.

"I can make him agree any time," she stated confidently.

"Don't let him hear that," her mother's voice came from the door.

Eleanor turned and blushed. Her mother and Antonio's mother were standing in the door, amused smiles on their faces.

"Mother, Don Antonio has asked me to join him at a concert. Doña Maria will be with us, too. Can I go, please?"

"What concert, Antonio?" Doña Maria asked.

"Mr. Beethoven's 9th symphony. On Friday. We have not heard it yet, and I can get tickets."

Harriet sighed. "If Doña Maria agrees, I shall allow it."

Harriet would not have missed her daughter's grateful smile for anything.



-------

Chapter 14: Tragedy Strikes



Over the next three months, Don Antonio Ruiz de Costa became a frequent visitor at the Carters' residence. He and Eleanor spent an increasing amount of time together and it was clear to everyone that their mutual infatuation increased with each visit. Harriet Carter did not insist on the presence of a chaperone anymore since she had come to trust the young man. Harriet had also developed a strong level of understanding with Antonio's mother, and she often accompanied Eleanor when she visited the Colombian embassy. The two mothers would the sit at tea unconcerned with the fact that Antonio and Eleanor sat together somewhere unsupervised. Perhaps it was that trust that motivated the two young people to restrict the expression of their affection to kisses and hugs.

They also joined Ellen and Richard on Sundays to go to concerts and theatre plays. Richard's free time was restricted. He worked long hours for Sir Robert Norton, and the more he learned, the more tasks were assigned to him. He began to admire the energy of Sir Robert and cursed him at the same time. The one thing he was looking forward to was the impending departure of Sir Robert to Portugal and his own wedding and honeymoon.

Ellen, for her part, began to help Lucy with her charity work. With Richard busy all week, and Eleanor either visiting with or being visited by Don Antonio, her only distraction were the weekly teas with Lady Lambert. Sometimes there were other visitors, but most of the times, the two unlikely friends, and friends they had become, were just holding friendly conversation with each other. From time to time, Lord Lambert joined them, but he seemed distracted. He had aged considerably over the winter, and Lady Lambert constantly admonished him to eat more since he also had become haggard.

It was early April 1827 when she visited Lady Lambert again. The impending wedding took a large part of Ellen's time, but there were things that she needed to ask Richard's grandmother. Lord Lambert sat with them, but after a while he excused himself.

"I don't know, I'm not feeling that well," he said, looking absentminded. "I'll lie down for an hour. Please excuse me, Ellen."

Ellen rose. "But of course. Are you all right, or should we have the doctor visit?"

He waved his hand. "For heaven's sake, no more bleeding. That's all that stupid quack does. No, let me sleep for an hour and I shall be fine." He sounded almost drunk, talking slowly and slurring the words.

They watched him as he left the tea room and heard him walk up the stairs.

"My Richard is getting old," Lady Lambert sighed with an expression of pain on her face.

Ellen was in thought. "I don't know, he looked strange to me. Did you hear how he talked? This did not sound right. I think you should have the doctor visit, I really do."

Lady Lambert contemplated. After all, Ellen lived in a physician's household, and Lucy knew such things, too. Ellen's word carried more weight for the old woman than the girl knew.

"I shall go and talk him into it. He doesn't think much of Dr. Benting. Excuse me for a moment."

She left and climbed the stairs after the old lord. Ellen sat at the table, unable to return to the letter she was composing. She felt disturbed for some reason. The next second, an anguished cry of Lady Lambert made her jump and run upstairs.

She found the old woman kneeling on the floor of their bedroom, bending over the prostrate body of her husband. In a flash, Ellen knelt on the other side. As taught by her father, she felt the pulse under the chin. It was week and fast. He was breathing heavily, and his face was strangely out of symmetry. She looked up. The old butler Jerome was standing in the door, wringing his hands, and more servants crowded the hall behind him.

With an authority that surprised herself, Ellen began to issue commands to the dazed servants.

"Jerome, somebody lift his lordship on his bed! Be quick about it, man! Somebody fetch the coachman, yes you. Run! Lady Lambert, let me help you up. Sit down here. I said, put him on the bed! What are you waiting for?"

When Lord Lambert had been lifted on the bed, the coachman arrived. Ellen knew him, he had often driven her home.

"Wilkins, you know where I live?" He nodded. "Drive there as fast as you can and alert my mother, Lady Wilkes. Tell her Lord Lambert had a stroke. Do you remember that? A stroke! Tell her to please come immediately and bring my father, Sir Jonathan, too. Did you understand that? Good! Be quick!"

The coach man left running. Thank god, she thought, the man was able. She looked around, and her look locked on one of the maids, a girl her own age.

"Milly, you have young legs. Run as fast as you can to Nº 12, Camden Court, the house of Sir Anthony Carter. Alert Lady Carter. Tell her to come to her parents' house and to bring clothes for the night. Can you repeat that?"

The girl repeated the message faithfully.

"Good, now put on some shoes and run!"

That done, Ellen bend down to Lady Lambert.

"I have done all I can right now. We must wait for my father. Do you need anything?"

The old woman shook her head, tears running over her cheeks.

"I don't need anything. Do you think he will be all right, Ellen? What can I do without him?"

"You must be strong now to see him through this. Should I get you some brandy? You look terribly pale, and we cannot have you break down, too."

"Jerome, a glass of brandy for her ladyship!"

"Now, sit back a little while we make your husband more comfortable."

She looked around. The butler was just returning with a glass of brandy on a tray. His hands were trembling, and he was near tears. Ellen felt her own eyes burning, but she willed it away. Lady Lambert needed her now, and she must not show weakness.

"Thank you, Jerome. Now, I want you to get his lordship's confidential servant and another manservant to undress his lordship and put him under the covers. When that is done, I want you to go and have one glass of brandy for yourself. You look like a ghost."

With the help of the servants, the old man was stripped of his shoes, coat and trousers, and laid to bed properly. The servants stayed in the room at Ellen's behest. The butler left for the prescribed glass of spirits when a commotion was heard from the entrance hall. Seconds later, Harriet Carter stormed into the room, followed closely by her husband and Eleanor.

"Mother, what happened? Oh my god, father!" she screamed, throwing herself on the bed. Sir Anthony put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her up while Eleanor went to her grandmother to hug and comfort her.

A minute later, another bustle sounded from below, and Jonathan Wilkes burst into the room.

"I came as fast as I could. Luckily, I was at home when your coachman came. Ah, there he is. Can somebody tell me what happened?"

Lady Lambert cast a begging glance at Ellen, and the girl spoke up.

"We had all been sitting at tea when his lordship complained that he did not feel well. He said he wanted to lie down for an hour. He sounded strange, as if drunk, but he'd had no spirits at all. I told Lady Lambert that she should have a doctor visit him, but she wanted to ask him first. Then I heard her cry and ran upstairs to find her on her knees and his lordship lying on the floor. I had the servants lift him onto his bed, and I sent the coachman for you, and a girl servant for Lady Carter. I hope I did not forget anything."

"No, Ellen, you did everything possible," Sir Jonathan assured her. "Now, let us have a look."

For a few minutes, he looked into the old man's eyes, pinched him here and there, and lifted his arms and legs, one after the other. Then he looked at Lady Lambert with regret.

"Milady, from what I can see, your husband suffered a very severe stroke. His entire right body half is paralysed. Usually, this is accompanied by a loss of speech. In such severe cases, a recovery is very unlikely, I am afraid."

"Will he survive?" Lady Lambert asked hopefully, but the painful expression on Dr. Wilkes' face told her the truth before he could answer.

"Again, this is difficult to predict. It all depends on the next days. We have to fear the worst, though. I am most sorry."

He turned to Harriet.

"Harriet, can you take over here for a couple of days? Lucy will help you, I am sure. We will need to feed him with broth. If we can get him to drink broth, he may yet survive. Lucy will have to prepare some teas to reduce the fever that is certain to come. I shall give more instructions to Lucy."

He took Harriet's hand. "Look after your mother, too. See to it that she eats and drinks. It happens too often that relatives neglect their own health in the care for their loved ones."

For five more days, the tough old sailor hung on to life. He valiantly battled the first days of fever, and he even regained some consciousness, raising hope in his family. His face seemed to relax whenever his wife sat beside him and held his hand which was most of the time. She had a mortal fear that he might pass away in her absence, without the comfort she could provide. In those days, Ellen practically ran the household, received the visits of friends and distant relatives, rejected the morbidly curious, and made sure that the other women ate regular meals.

It was Ellen, too, who, on the sixth night, woke up disturbed. She hurried to Lord Lambert's bedroom and noticed that his breathing had changed to a laboured gasping, sometimes ceasing altogether. He was disturbed, thrashing with his good left side. Ellen ran to wake Lady Lambert.

"Please come, I think the end may be near."

She supported the old woman and led her to her husband's bed. Lady Lambert took hold of her husband's left hand, and the thrashing ceased immediately. The breathing became weaker and weaker, though, and silent tears ran down the old woman's cheeks.

"Ellen, dear, can you leave us alone? There are a few things I need to tell him in private."

Ellen nodded and left the bedroom, herself sobbing silently. She had the coachman woken and sent him to alert the Carters. They arrived after only twenty minutes and silently climbed the stairs, Ellen taking Richard's hand. Harriet knocked on the door, but no answer came. When she lifted her hand to knock again, the door opened from within and Lady Lambert stood there, composed.

"His suffering is over," she stated simply.

The list of dignitaries to attend Admiral Lord Lambert's burial was awe-inspiring. Five full admirals and one real-admiral, Anthony Carter, served as pallbearers, and the Duke of Clarence, as Admiral of the Fleet, spoke the eulogy. The condolence book read like a who-is-who of the political and military elite of the time. Among the principal mourners, Lady Lambert stood, supported by her grandson and his fiancé, while Harriet Carter was helped along by her daughter and her friend Lucy Wilkes. Emily Lambert had come to London with her four young daughters who stood bewildered in their unaccustomed black dresses. It was cruel that Andrew Lambert, the heir to the title, was absent, far away in the Mediterranean, and unable to lend his support to his mother. For most purposes, Sir Anthony Carter had to stand in as son-in-law. He, too, was saddened by the passing of the old admiral who had been his supporter for most of his adult life. Harriet had recovered somewhat, but she was still shaky. The two young women, Eleanor and Ellen, together with Sir Anthony and Richard, had shouldered most of the preparations for the burial.

Richard and Ellen also saw the widow home after the burial. Ellen offered to stay, but the old woman refused.

"Ellen, I shall never forget what you did for us this last week. Right now, though, I need to be alone."

"May I visit you?"

"But of course, my dear girl. How could I refuse you? Just let me be alone for this evening. Richard, bring her home and see to it that she gets some sleep."

Richard nodded and led Ellen back to the coach. On the way back, Ellen rested her head on Richard's shoulder.

"Ellen," Richard said softly. "I always knew you were wonderful, but in the last days, I have finally realised what a treasure you are. I am so sorry that we will have to postpone the wedding."

"Never think of it, Richard. It is nobody's fault, it is just fate. I just hope your mother and grandmother will recover soon."

"I wonder how Uncle Andrew will feel. To be far away and not able to help must be terrible."

"Emily will write him a letter with all the details of the burial. She hopes he will not be too upset."

"You have become friends with Aunt Emily, haven't you?"

"Yes, she is very nice once you get to know her. She is terribly shy, though. When somebody addressed her as "Lady Lambert" today, she almost cried in embarrassment."

"Well, she is Lady Lambert now, whether she likes it or not," Richard sighed. "She better get used to it."

The coach arrived before the house of Ellen's stepparents and she alighted with Richard's help. They kissed briefly, and Ellen went inside. Lucy looked up when she came in and came to hug her. Ellen accepted the embrace thankfully. She felt completely drained.

"Ellen, my darling, I want you to take a long, warm bath. I prepared it already. I put in some oils for your relaxation."

Ellen looked at Lucy. "That is a wonderful idea, Lucy. You are so good to me."

"When you are finished with that bath, you will eat some toast and drink a glass of wine. After that, I want you to go to bed and sleep until tomorrow."

Ellen smiled and went upstairs. In her room, she undressed quickly and slipped a dressing gown over her naked body, before she went to the bath room. Fortunately, her hair was still in a bun. The cast iron tub was full with perfumed water. Ellen quickly dropped her dressing gown and climbed into the wonderful warm water. The smells and the warmth calmed her nerves and she almost fell asleep in the water. Before the water cooled too much, Lucy came in with a large towel and helped Ellen out of the tub. She had never done this before, and she had never seen her adopted daughter's glorious body naked. With the wet skin, she looked like one of those marble statues from Greece or Rome, Lucy thought. With a mental sigh, she held the dressing gown for Ellen. In her room, Ellen found a few toasted slices of bread and a glass of sweet Malaga wine. After a quick meal, she changed into her night shift, and with a sigh, sunk into the soft mattress. When Lucy came to collect the plate and the wine glass, she could already hear Ellen's soft snoring.

Ellen awoke the next morning to the smell of a cup of coffee that was sitting on a table beside her bed. She could hear the bustle from the street, and she noticed that it must be rather late. The coffee was still hot and she drank carefully. A low whine came from the floor to her right, and she looked at the crouching form of Ricky.

"Oh Ricky, I'm sorry for neglecting you."

Ellen quickly slid down from her bed and onto the floor and began to ruffle Ricky's fur. For minutes, she enjoyed the companionship of her dog, just as Ricky enjoyed the long-missed attention of his mistress. Usually, Ellen spent some time with her dog every day, but during the last days, she had barely been at home, and Ricky had to contend with one of the servants, usually the coachman.

How had he come into her bedroom? Ellen realised that this must have been a gentle reminder from Lucy not to neglect her own family too much. Of course, she was right, Ellen decided. Determined, Ellen went over to the wash stand and cleaned herself. Then she brushed her hair and dressed. She decided against spring colours; she had helped bury Richard's grandfather the day before, and she felt like family. She compromised on a white blouse with a charcoal bow tie and a charcoal skirt.

Followed by Ricky, Ellen went downstairs. Lucy had gone out, she learned, and she decided to go out on a walk herself. Ricky was more than happy to accompany her, and Ellen spent almost two hours in the public park, throwing sticks for Ricky. She saw several neighbours who, like her, enjoyed the nice spring day, and Ricky had a chance to play with a large poodle. Being a sheepdog, Ricky never strayed far from Ellen, and he was quite protective. He had also grown to a respectable size, and his straggly black coat gave him a wild look.

Ellen was sitting on a bench when suddenly a shadow loomed over her. Looking up she saw a middle aged man she did not know. He lifted his hat.

"A wonderful day, isn't it?"

Ellen acknowledged that it was.

"You seem to be alone, Miss. Isn't that dangerous for a pretty young lady like..."

The man stopped in mid-sentence and paled. A large black dog had appeared between Ellen and him, fangs bared and growling menacingly.

"Not really," Ellen answered in a conversational tone, but she barely suppressed a giggle, in spite of herself. "You see, my fiancé gave me this dog to protect me against any unsolicited attention."

"How thoughtful of him, Miss. I suppose I had better be going; you do not seem to need my protection."

"Decidedly not, Sir. Have a good day!"

The man beat a hasty retreat, and Ellen lovingly ruffled Ricky's fur. Ellen was accustomed to men trying to speak to her, even without proper introduction, a breach of etiquette that annoyed her to no end. The thought that Ricky would protect her against such behaviour was amusing, and she planned to tell Richard. Her face fell when she realised that she would not see him until the next weekend, perhaps even longer. What she would not give to sit with him on the banks of the River Thames, like they had a year before. Her excitement for the city had long since waned and she remembered the countryside longingly, the fresh air, the smells, the friendly people. She missed riding on horseback, too, something she had started at High Matcham with Richard. Perhaps, she could go to a rent stable and get a horse to ride in the parks. Then again, she could not ride alone, and Lucy did not relish horses at all. Maybe, she and Richard could ride out on one of the next Sundays.

When she came home, she saw the Carters' coach drawn up in front. Her heart beat a little faster with the thought that Richard might have come to see her. However, when she entered the living room, there was Harriet Carter, in her black mourning garb, sitting across from Lucy at the tea table. Harriet rose.

"There you are, Ellen! I am glad that you came home before I had to leave. Ellen, I came to thank you for all that you did for us in the last weeks. I myself, as well as our entire family, will never forget that. I am sorry that your wedding must be postponed now, but you should know that we are all looking forward to the day when we can claim you as one of us."

"Please, Lady Carter, it was so little I could do and nothing compared to what you did for me."

"That's a dispute we obviously cannot settle," Harriet responded with a weak smile. "Be that as it may, that was only half of the reasons I came here. My husband and I have decided to return to High Matcham for a month in May. Since Richard will be at loose ends in May, it will be a rare chance for us to escape London."

"Oh," was all Ellen could respond, feeling crushed. She would not see Richard for a month, maybe more.

"I have talked to Lucy," Lady Carter hastened to continue, "and I could persuade her to allow you to accompany us. It is not like you have not lived with us before. For once, we want to express our appreciation, but we also want to give you some consolation for the deplorable postponing of your wedding. Would you like to come along, Ellen?"

Ellen wanted to jump for joy, but she checked her response in time, looking at Lucy first.

"Would that really be acceptable for you, Lucy?" she asked, but Lucy just smiled benevolently at the girl.

"You should really go. A few weeks in the countryside will do you good, not to mention the attention of a certain young man," Lucy answered with a twinkle in her eye.

"Then I would really love to come with you, Lady Carter," Ellen said with a reluctant smile, and was surprised to find herself in a tight hug by the older woman.

"We shall leave next Monday morning, Ellen. I am glad you can come along. I have grown quite fond of you, my dear."

Ellen blushed at that, not knowing how to respond.

"I like you a lot, too," she finally managed to say.

After Harriet was gone, Ellen asked Lucy again.

"You really do not mind if I go with the Carters?"

Lucy smiled at her. "Of course, we shall miss you, Ellen. We have grown fond of you. I happen to agree with Harriet, though, that a few weeks in the countryside will do you good. These past twelve months have been quite trying on all of us, and especially you. I want you to enjoy the leisure, and of course, Richard's attention."

"Thank you, Lucy. I love you."

Lucy's eyes were misted when she hugged the girl. Perhaps she and Jonathan should consider taking in another orphan once Ellen was married. It was rewarding to be a parent, she found, even if trying at times.



-------

Chapter 15: Lord Lambert



The countryside looked its best in early May. The fresh green of the trees and shrubs was a feast for the eyes, especially eyes that had become accustomed to the soot of the large City. Although Ellen felt a little guilty about it, she could not help feeling true happiness. She sat snuggled against Richard in the open carriage, the spring sun warming them nicely, and the fresh air feeling like champagne to her lungs. Here they passed through the village of Matcham, the people on the streets looking up in surprise at the line of coaches that rattled through the narrow street. Some of the villagers doffed their hats to greet the returning squire in the first coach, and Ellen observed the friendly nature of the greetings.

Opposite of her, Eleanor Carter sat in a mood that can only be described as sour. She had begged for almost two weeks to be excluded from the trip to High Matcham, even offering to stay as companion with her grandmother. Lady Cater had been uncompromising, though. If the budding relationship of Eleanor and Antonio Ruiz could not survive a four week hiatus, there was not much future in it anyway. As a result, Eleanor had been grumbling all the way from London and made it a point to comment sarcastically on the two love birds facing her.

Eleanor's foul mood bothered Ellen somewhat but she knew something about Lady Carter's plans that would improve Eleanor's outlook. Eleanor did not know that her mother had invited the Ruizes to join them as guests, and that they had accepted. They would just be a few days behind, as Ellen knew, and she watched Eleanor's antics with silent amusement.

However, when the manor, her childhood home, came into sight, Eleanor's bad mood vanished considerably. She loved the place, and she had to acknowledge that the fields and meadows surrounding the manor beat any London park by a large margin.

They arrived at the gates and were greeted by Nadine and the rest of the staff. She had made the trip a week earlier to get the place ready, and the family settled into their home within a few hours. Ellen had her old room again, too, and she noticed that two other guest rooms had also been cleaned and readied. With a smile, she wondered when Eleanor would notice.

The young people dressed in riding garb and made a tour of the land on horseback, something to which Ellen had been looking forward. In felt so good to be in the saddle again! Ellen did not have much practice, but she loved horses and was a natural in the saddle, as was Eleanor. Ricky, too, was elated and bounded around the trotting horses. After all, he was barely older that one year and bursting with pent up energy. They stopped at the grove where Richard had rescued her a year ago, and Ellen rode up to Richard's mount and squeezed his hand. They looked at each other and and then leant over to kiss each other, but the horses were somewhat irritated and pranced, nearly unseating them.

They rode along the river for a mile before turning south to ride the eastern boundary of the estate towards the road. Following the road, they rode past the manor and towards Woodbridge Manor. From far, Richard could see that the remodelling of the manor had proceeded nicely. The roofs cleaned, the window frames painted in shining white, and the driveway covered with fresh gravel, it looked like a nice place to live. Richard and Ellen decided to inspect the interior as soon as they could get a hold of Mr. Brown.

When they rode past the gatekeeper's lodge, Ellen noticed a broken pane in the door and showed it to Richard. This looked suspicious. Richard told the young women to back off and to ride for High Matcham at full speed should something happen while he inspected. Richard had a double-barrelled percussion pistol in his saddle bag which he pulled out and cocked. The Tremonts had never been accounted for, and Richard had decided to go armed whenever he rode his father's possessions. He approached the door to the lodge cautiously, the pistol at the ready.

"Anybody in there, come out, and no harm will come to you!" he hailed.

No direct response came, but he heard the sound of a shutter opened in the back of the lodge, and the yell of Eleanor.

"Someone's running for it, Richard! Here, in the back!"

Remembering to put the pistol on safety, Richard mounted his horse and rode towards where he heard the girl's horses. He saw a running figure, darting left and right like a fleeing hare, but increasingly boxed in by the girls on their horses. He closed in with them in a few moments, and the small figure looked about in despair. Surrounded by three riders on an open field, there was no hope for escape.

The figure was rather small, and long brown hair flowed from under the hood it was wearing.

"Stop and make yourself known!" Richard demanded. "I am the son of the squire, and you will suffer no harm if your intentions are honest."

With a gesture of resignation, the figure pulled down the hood, and the three riders looked in surprise at the girl that stood before them. She could not be older than 15 or sixteen years, Ellen guessed, and she dismounted before her companions could react. She knew the girl was frightened, and having been in a similar situation, she sympathised. Giving her reigns to Eleanor, she approached the girl.

"Will you tell me who you are?" she asked in a friendly tone.

The girl looked at her with suspicion and did not answer.

"We need to decide what to do with you, do you understand that? If you don't tell us about you, we must assume that you broke into the lodge to steal."

"I'm no thief, indeed not!" the girl protested. "An' I did ne'er break into no lodge. I jus' came 'ere yesterday, an' dat lock 'ad been picked afore me."

Ellen nodded patiently.

"So you are no thief. Will you tell me your name then?"

The girl swallowed and looked up.

"Me name's Millicent Wade."

"Fine, Millicent," Ellen continued, while Richard and Eleanor watched with interest. "Will you tell me what you are doing here all alone? Where's your family?"

That brought tears to the girl's eyes, and she had to sniff a few times before she answered.

"Them's dead. Smallpox got 'em."

"So you are all alone now?"

Nod. Sniff.

"Nobody took care of you?"

"Farmer Mills took me in, as maid. I's ter milk 'is cows, but 'e says I's ter milk 'im, too."

Ellen rose her eyebrows, understanding what the girl said.

"'e wants ter do more, says I's ter keep 'im company at night, but I's afraid and run orf."

"Have you eaten today?"

The girl's eyes grew big and she shook her head. Ellen glanced at Richard, and he nodded. He would have to ask his parents, but knowing his mother, he was sure that they would agree to take the girl in, for a while at least. He rode back to the lodge and inspected it from the inside. Nothing had been broken or taken, on the contrary, the girl obviously had cleaned away the dust. He returned to where Ellen and Eleanor were waiting with the girl. He looked her over; she was not really dirty, although a bath would do wonders on her appearance.

"Millicent," he began, "my father is the squire of High Matcham. I am not sure whether he may want another maidservant, but at the very least, I can promise you food and shelter for a few days. Will you come with us? I promise, no milking of any kind," he added with a smile.

The girl nodded reluctantly, and Ellen led her to Richard's horse. Richard gave her a lift and Ellen helped her sit behind her fiancé. It was not easy for Ellen to mount without help, but she managed, and the three riders returned to High Matcham in a slow trot.

As expected, Lady Carter, after one look at the starved girl, ordered her taken care off. It was Nadine who took charge of the efforts, feeding her first in the kitchen, and then sending her over to the maids' quarters to be scrubbed clean and clothed. When Ellen came to see Nadine and check on the girl, she found the latter at work in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, while Nadine gave her instructions and corrected the girl's speech. Ellen almost laughed, thinking how the girl would soon speak with French accent if Nadine kept up teaching her 'proper' English. She would be in good care, though, with Nadine; nobody on the estate dared to be on the housekeeper's bad side, not even the Carters.

"Do you feel better now?" Ellen asked, and the girl nodded shyly, her eyes big as saucers. Ellen was already dressed for dinner, and the charcoal dress in combination with a cascade of blonde tresses made for an impressing sight. Ellen caught the look of adoration in the girl's eyes and smiled at her. Millicent was quite pretty herself, she thought. Her waist-long, chestnut coloured hair was still damp from the washing and framed a heart-shaped face with large brown eyes. She was terribly thin, though, as revealed by the maid's dress. Her arms were mere sticks, and her hands showed the traces of farm work, broken nails, barely healed scratches and calluses.

"Don't work her too hard, Nadine, before she has some flesh back on her bones," she told Nadine, and the older woman nodded.

"I shall keep 'er in ze kitchen, Miss Ellen. Zat way, she vill not go 'ungry."

Ellen smiled at Nadine with affection.

"Will you teach her cooking? Richard and I will need a cook."

Nadine was pleased. She took pride in her cooking and Ellen's question implied appreciation.

"I vill try," she said, and ruffled the girls damp hair.

-------

The next two days continued in the same way. Richard and Ellen enjoyed riding, and visited Woodbridge Manor, planning the changes they would need before they could move in. Ellen liked the house already. The idea to live as neighbours to Richard's parents was appealing to her. When they returned on the third day, they saw a coach in the driveway, indicating a visitor. Entering the house, the footman approached Richard.

"Sir Anthony's compliments and would you join him in the study, Master Richard?"

Curiously, Richard walked towards the study, while Ellen went upstairs to change. In the study, Richard found his father and an elderly man whom Richard recognised as Mr. Tremont. The man had aged considerably, the worry over his sons must weigh heavily on him, Richard thought.

"Ah, there you are, Richard. You know Mr. Tremont, of course."

"Certainly, father! Your servant, Mr. Tremont."

Tremont bowed in response.

"Mr. Tremont came here to inform me that he has knowledge of the whereabouts of his sons. It seems like they have made a fresh start in the former colonies, South Carolina was it?"

Mr. Tremont nodded. "They have found honest work as caretakers in a tobacco plantation, and they find the opportunities there very tempting. They will never come back to England, but I would ask you to withdraw the charges against them. I would not have my sons under that cloud. I have a letter here, signed by both of them, in which they ask your forgiveness and express their regret."

Richard thought only briefly. "If they are honest in their regret, I can forgive them."

The old man smiled. "I always knew you had a good heart, Master Richard. You see, I will join my sons. I cannot live alone and away from them in my old age. I will sell my property here and move. The yield should be enough for us to start a new life in Carolina."

"Mr. Tremont has offered to sell the property to me," Sir Anthony interjected, "and we have come to an agreement. Since you will live on Woodbridge with Ellen, I wanted to hear your opinion on this."

"I will tell my sons that the young lady is your fiancé now, and they will write a letter of apology to her, too," Mr. Tremont offered.

"That should help to quell any misgivings," Richard nodded.

"We'll have our solicitors draw up the contract then," Sir Anthony offered, and the old man shook his hand.

"I regret this whole affair, but perhaps it was meant this way. My farm would have never supported both my sons. They have a better chance now. I thank you for your time and your understanding."

Tremont left, and Richard was astonished to see his father rubbing his hands.

"You seem to be in good spirits, father."

"Oh, but I am," Sir Anthony confirmed. "Tremont's house is not much to speak of, but the soil is good, and he has plenty of woods. His sawmill is turning in a pretty profit. I shall have a new manor built there as dowry for Eleanor."

Richard understood. "That will be wonderful! To have her as neighbour would mean a lot to me and to Ellen."

"It will mean a lot to your mother and me, too. No word to the women, though. This is going to be a surprise."

Richard grinned. "Let me know where I can help."

The next day, while the three young people were out riding, Antonio Ruiz and his mother arrived in a coach. When Eleanor and Ellen came into the house, Richard was attending to the horses.

"Eleanor my darling, I would like you to meet somebody in the garden room," Lady Carter greeted the girls, winking at Ellen. Ellen grinned while she pushed Eleanor towards the back of the house and through the door of the sunlit room. She could hear Eleanor's shriek of surprise while she closed the door from the outside.

She came back an hour later and knocked on the door. There was no answer, but she opened the door anyway, prepared to withdraw immediately. Antonio and Eleanor sat on opposite sides of a table, obviously talking to each other. Ellen would have been fooled had she not noticed that the little bow tie that adorned Eleanor's blouse had been retied. She smirked, causing Eleanor to blush.

"Your mothers ask you to join us for tea," Ellen grinned.

They both rose uneasily and followed Ellen to the tea room. There was not teasing for them, and they soon relaxed. Eleanor gave her mother an accusing glare to which Lady Carter responded with a smug grin, but soon she found herself in a conversation with Donna Maria.

With Eleanor on cloud nine, the next three weeks were very pleasant indeed. Weather permitting, the young people rode their horses every day, and the exercise in the clean spring air did wonders to their mood. By the end of their stay, Eleanor and Antonio would often ride by themselves. Ellen and Richard saw them from afar, their horses in a slow trot, and deep in discussions.

On the evening before their planned departure for London, after dinner, Antonio Ruiz took his heart in both hands.

"Sir Anthony, Lady Carter, Mother, you probably did not fail to notice that Eleanor and I have become very close during the last months, and especially so in the last weeks. This morning, I have declared my love to Eleanor, and she responded in a way that surpassed my hopes. I know that there are issues of nationality and faith that may be seen as hindrance, but I ask you fervently to consider favourably my proposal for Eleanor's hand."

Sir Anthony sighed. How could all this happen so fast? He could not help but notice how Eleanor radiated love whenever the young man was around her. The deep passion she was capable of identified her as a true daughter of her mother. So what if she was young? Her mother had been younger even when he first fell in love with her. He looked at the young man, the son of a woman he could have loved, and he came to a decision. First, however, he looked at his wife, and her answering glance conveyed enough information.

"It is true, we could not help notice the affection between you and my daughter, and you can be assured that, had this affection been unwelcome to us, we would have found ways to put a stop to it, rather than inviting you to stay here with us."

There were smiles around the table, and Eleanor's heart beat wildly. Her father had signalled his approval! She felt Ellen's hand on her own and, looking up, the happy smile on her lips. For all her teasing, she knew Ellen to be her dearest friend, as close as friendship between women could get, she thought. Her father continued.

"You must understand, though, that there are some issues that have us worried." He lifted his hands to quiet the expected protests. "I am not talking about religion, nor about nationality. What concerns me are your plans for your and her future. You must understand that you are not the only person who loves Eleanor. I am sure to speak not only for me but for my entire family if I state that the thought of Eleanor living in South America is almost unbearable to us. There is also some concern about the political situation. As you have said yourself in our discussions, the state in which Spain left its former colonies, the instability of the current government, make me worried that my daughter may be caught up in civil unrest. I would hate to elaborate on the dangers women face in such unrest."

Antonio nodded thoughtfully. This was something he and Eleanor had discussed, too. He himself, as young commander in the liberation army had seen many atrocities, and what he heard from his home country did not make him confident in the political stability of the current government.

"Sir Anthony, I appreciate your open words, and much of what you said mirrors my own sentiments. Let me add to this, that the roots of my family lie in Spain, that is, in Europe. My mother, too, is a native of Sevilla, and she contemplates to retire in her home country, on the possessions we still own. Having said that, I must stress that a return to Spain is impossible for me, having fought against Spanish troops at Carabobo.

"I have grown to appreciate this country, its stability and the quality of live. Would you find it in your heart to entrust your daughter to me if I planned to stay in England permanently?"

Eleanor looked at him with unconditional love. They had talked about this issue, and she knew that he was giving up his home country for her. What had been left unsaid was the fact that as Protestant, as heretic, she would never find full acceptance in his home country, even if she converted.

"If this is the case, then I will not only give my unconditional blessing to your proposal, but I will give you all the assistance you will need to find a place in this country worthy of your qualities."

"This is all I wanted to hear, Sir Anthony. I shall look for the next ship to bring me to Cartagena, and I will liquidate my possessions there."

"Sir Robert Norton has a representative in Cartagena. You may find it useful to use a bill of exchange, rather than transferring money bodily. With the trade volume Sir Robert has, this should be no problem. I can see to it that Sir Robert writes a letter of introduction for you."

This was the first contribution by Richard. He wanted to be of help, and Antonio appreciated the advice.

"This would be like a wechsel from the Fuggers?"

"Exactly," Richard enthused. "It is a system of moving money around without transporting bullion. If you want, I can see to it that you get an interview with Sir Robert."

"Well," Sir Anthony interrupted, "I think we have come to an agreement. Issues like the dowry should better be discussed between the two of us, but I would suggest that this occasion warrants a toast."

Sir Anthony rang the bell, and the servant was charged to retrieve wine from the cellar. The wine was brought, the glasses filled, and SIr Anthony raised his glass.

"I raise my glass to my future son-in-law, Don Antonio Ruiz de Costa, and to my beloved daughter Eleanor. May their union be blessed and bear multiple fruit! May they have a happy and long life together!"

Everybody toasted the newly engaged, and Ellen was the first to hug Eleanor.

"I'm so happy for you!" she whispered into Eleanor's ear.

Eleanor just beamed her happiness.

There was a minor point however, that Sir Anthony had to remind them of.

"Please understand that this must remain among us for a few months. A public engagement will have to wait until the mourning period for Eleanor's grandfather is over."

Antonio and Eleanor nodded. This was understood.

Sir Anthony then invited Antonio to follow him to the study. They stayed for almost half an hour, but when they emerged, Sir Anthony gave an assuring nod to his daughter.

The families returned to London the next morning. Eleanor travelled with Antonio and his mother to have some more time with him. It had sunk in on her that his planned journey to Cartagena would take more than half a year, an eternity. She did not complain, though. She realised that his sense of duty was part of the man she loved. He had to return to his home to give his farewell to his friends. He had to see to it that his possessions and the dependant tenants came into the right hands. When he apologised for the need to go back to Colombia another time, she told him that she understood.

"Antonio, I would not have it another way. You need to go to fulfil your obligations. I know I will miss you, but it is a small price to pay for the right to have you for the rest of my life."

Donna Maria's appreciation for her future daughter in law increased considerably. Of course, she was Anthony and Harriet Carter's daughter, she thought. 'Don't whine, do what it takes!' seemed to be their motto, and it had rubbed off on the girl. She took Eleanor's hand.

"Don't worry, Antonio. Eleanora and I will commiserate while you are away. Shared misery is only half the misery."

However, it took more than a month for Antonio Ruiz to find a ship that would convey him to Cartagena. With the tacit agreement of her parents, Eleanor spent every free minute of his time with Antonio. When he finally went on board the Estrella del Sur,  bound for Cartagena via the Capverdian Islands, Eleanor accompanied him to the quay. They kissed until the boatmen showed impatience. The white handkerchief in his hand was the last that she saw of him when the ship made its way downstream from the Pool of London.

In the meantime, Richard was back in the employ of his mentor, Sir Robert Norton. That worthy gentleman had returned from his journey with fresh energy, and everybody who worked with of for him found this fact challenging. Again, Richard and Ellen found little time for each other. The wonderful four weeks in High Matcham were soon forgotten, and Ellen found solace only in the prospect that Richard's apprenticeship would end in the fall when the elections for the House of Commons would be held.

Andrew, 2nd Baron Lambert, had written a letter to Richard and informed him that Richard, the heir to title, was also appointed executor of his uncle's estate in case of his death. Andrew Lambert had been in a depressed mood when he wrote this letter, that much was apparent. The situation in the Mediterranean was volatile. The Greeks were fighting for their independence, but the Turkish troops had been reinforced by the Egyptian fleet under Ibrahim Pasha, and the war was a bitter one, with atrocities committed on either side. The sympathies of the ruling classes of Europe, with their humanistic education, sided with the Greek quest for freedom, and Sir Edward Codrington, Commander in Chief of the Mediterranean Squadron had orders to prevent further bloodshed and enslavements, yet prevent an outright war with the Ottoman Empire.

Lord Lambert had given up the command of the Dreadnought, to serve as Captain of the Fleet on board the flagship, a promotion, but he missed the command of his own ship. The ever changing and conflicting orders and advice his Commander in Chief received were confusing to the officers and made for short tempers. All in all, it was no happy letter. The letter ended with the request to Richard that he should look after Emily Lambert and their four daughters should something happen to him.

Of course, Richard showed the letter to his father who could only confirm Lord Lambert's assessment that the British government was decidedly undecided. For the next weekend, Richard took three days off from his work with Sir Robert to visit his aunt in Portsmouth. Ellen accompanied him, glad for the chance to talk to him for a few uninterrupted hours during the coach ride. Emily Lambert had also received depressed letters from her husband, and her pride of helping him find a command had long vanished.

Richard and Ellen also discussed their wedding plans during the journey back, and they agreed on the next spring. The fall would see the elections to the House of Commons and the formation of a new government, and Richard would be far too busy to go on a honeymoon, something they wanted to have. On the journey, in the coach with the curtains closed, they also became intimate for the first time in half a year. Their need for each other was overwhelming and they just ignored the rocking and swaying of the coach and enjoyed a few blissful hours with each other, kissing and caressing each other.

Back in London, Richard's mad work hours began again, and at times, it was so bad that she would only see him for a few precious hours on Sundays. To diffuse the situation and lessen Richard's feeling of guilt, Ellen agreed to accompany Lucy on a short vacation in the Lake District. Lucy, too, had felt some exhaustion in recent weeks, and the hot summer in London had done nothing to help her. The two women enjoyed the walks and the distractions for two weeks until in was time to return to London.

The season was about to start, and Lucy was very much involved in various charity drives, notably the one that helped finance the hospital where Sir Jonathan did his charity work and research. Ellen was happy to help, and Lucy appreciated her talents. Ellen had acquired a phenomenal memory for people, and she was wonderful at composing letters to the benefactors. Ellen also made important acquaintances, something, she reasoned, would help her support her future husband after his election to the Commons.

Richard did not have to do much campaigning; he visited his borough thrice and spoke before the tenants and listened to their complaints. He ended his work for Sir Robert in September, and he was elected to parliament in mid-October. Even his grandmother came to congratulate him when he held a reception at his father's house. He was the Hon. Richard Carter, MP, and people began to take him seriously, not least because of his well known connection with millionaire merchant Sir Robert Norton.

Parliament convened for the first session on November 9th, and it was a proud moment for Richard when George IV. opened parliament. He was taking more congratulations after the first session when he noticed two Navy officers who approached with worried looks.

"Mr. Carter, Sir?" the junior one addressed him.

"Yes, indeed," Richard answered, slightly puzzled.

"I am afraid we bear bad news, Sir. There has been a major fleet engagement in the Mediterranean, the Bay of Navarino, to be precise. Our forces prevailed against a large superiority of Turkish vessels, but your Uncle, Lord Lambert, lost his life in the battle."

"I take it, that you are the heir to the title?" the older officer asked, and Richard nodded numbly. He had to tell his grandmother, Aunt Emily, and his mother. Oh god, what a tragedy for the family!

"Milord, please accept our sympathy. I heard the widow of his lordship lives in Portsmouth. Do you wish transportation?"

Richard steeled himself. He would have to carry the flag now. His father could help him, and he also thought about Ellen and her quiet strength.

"That would be extremely helpful, gentlemen," he answered, trying to maintain the stoical facade expected of him. "First, I need to notify my parents and my grandmother, though."

"Of course, milord. The coach will be ready for you whenever you have completed your duties in London."

"Please confer our heartfelt sympathies to your family, milord."

Richard was already sitting in his one-horse coach when he realised how the officers had addressed him. He was Lord Lambert now. Richard Carter, 3rd Baron Lambert. He felt nothing but panic at the thought. He needed guidance what to do and how. He rapped the roof of his coach.

"The Wilkes' residence!"

Ellen, Ellen would know how to help and support his grandmother and his aunt.



-------

Chapter 16: Aunt Emily



The Admiralty-owned coach lurched and swayed violently on the wintery road towards Portsmouth. It was cold, and the blankets did little to keep the passengers warm. Nevertheless, Richard Carter, 3rd Baron Lambert, did not look forward to the arrival. He would have rather travelled for days in the bitter cold than face his aunt and tell her of his uncle's death.

Andrew Lord Lambert had perished in the Battle of Navarino. Details were still sketchy, but it had transpired that a confrontation between British, French and Russian ships on one side, and the combined Turkish and Egyptian fleets had suddenly escalated into an annihilating battle in the tight confines of the Bay of Navarino. Dozens of enemy ships were sunk and burned, but the European squadrons also suffered severe losses. Andrew Lambert had served as Captain of the Fleet on board the flagship, HMS Asia, and had been mortally hit by a round shot.

Richard looked up again to Ellen and to his grandmother. The old lady had had a momentary weakness upon learning of her son's death, but her first thought had been her daughter in law and the four daughters of her son, and she had steeled herself. Ellen had come, too, as he had hoped, holding the old woman's hand now.

"How shall we tell Aunt Emily?" he asked suddenly.

His grandmother looked up with a sad expression.

"She'll know as soon as she will see us," she said.

"She will blame herself," Ellen remarked. "After all, she set things up with Sir Edward Codrington. We need to make her see that she only did something he desperately wanted."

Old Lady Lambert nodded sadly. "Poor Emily! She did it to make Andrew happy. And how proud we was. Well, she helped him get command of Dreadnaught, and Dreadnaught safely returned to Portsmouth last month. She had nothing to do with his posting as Captain of the Fleet, at least that's what we have to make her believe."

After this exchange, they fell into silence again as the wheel rumbled over the muddy road. The silence lasted until the clatter of hooves on cobble stones signalled their arrival in Portsmouth. The coach finally came to a stop in front of the house on High Street that Sir Anthony Carter had once owned, and that had been Andrew Lambert's for more than a decade. Richard helped the women to alight from the coach, and together, they approached the entrance. The bell sounded, and a manservant opened. He nodded gravely when he recognised the visitors, and without a word, led them towards the dining room.

Emily Lambert must have heard the bad news already, for she was dressed in black, a veil covering her face.

"I heard it already," she stated. "You shouldn't have come here in this weather, mother. But thank you, you, too, Richard and Ellen. Do you know how it happened? I only heard there was a battle and Andrew fell."

In brief words, Richard told his aunt all he knew. When he finished, he swallowed and stepped up to her. He hugged her and looked into her eyes, through the veil.

"Aunt Emily, I am not good at this. I want you to know however, that you can always count on my help and support. I would have done it anyway, but Uncle Andrew asked me to look after you and the girls should something happen to him."

"I know," she nodded. "He had premonitions. In his last letters, he also gave me all sorts of instructions. And we wrote me to call upon you and your father in any need."

"How are the girls?"

"The realisation has not sunk in yet," Emily sighed. "Will they ... will they bring Andrew home for burial?"

Richard swallowed hard, and his eyes stung when he shook his head. The round shot had torn Andrew Lambert apart, and what was left of him had been buried at sea.

"They thought it better to bury him at sea," he said diplomatically. "He had left a note to that effect." That was a lie, but how could he tell his aunt that his uncle's head had been blown into smithereens?

His aunt looked through him, however.

"You are kind, Richard, but he was hit by a flying cannon ball. I have an idea what that must have done to him."

"He did not suffer, though. He was spared the surgeon's knife."

"There will be a memorial service, though," Old Lady Lambert said. "Would you rather have it here or in London, Emily?"

Emily thought for a moment, then she replied with calm determination.

"Here in Portsmouth. It's where he lived, it's where his friends and family live, it's where I met him and fell in love with him. Let him be remembered here. We'll have a memorial plate in St. Thomas a Becket where our children were baptised."

Richard nodded. "I will pass on these wishes to the Admiralty. It will be another month, though. Is there anything we can do for you, Aunt Emily?"

"I would appreciate it if people were to abstain from making condolence calls. Most of them mean well, but I really don't feel like receiving all those people I barely know."

Ellen spoke up for the first time.

"Do you want me to stay for a few days? I could receive the callers, accept their calling cards, and tell them that you are not accepting calls in person."

Emily regarded the young woman, and she nodded unconsciously.

"If you could do that, I would be more than grateful."

Ellen nodded. "I'll stay then."

Richard was relieved and proud of his fiancé. For the second time, she stepped in for his family.

Old Lady Lambert had considered staying herself, but she had never developed a good accord with her daughter in law. Perhaps, young Ellen was a better match for the thirty-one year-old Emily.

Richard and his grandmother stayed over night, keeping Emily and Ellen company. Old Lady Lambert spent over two hours with her granddaughters, patiently explaining the questions of the children. The oldest, Eleanor, had already realised the impact of her father's death, while her younger sisters did not fully comprehend the tragedy that had struck their family. The old woman was drained and close to tears when the girls finally went to bed.

Nobody thought much about it that Ellen and Richard shared a bedroom that night, the house was not that big. However, in their depressed mood, they only held on to each other. Once, during the night, Richard woke up. Ellen's body was cuddled against him, her back pressing against his front, and he felt his body reacting to her. He willed his desire down with an effort and with a feeling of guilt. His unholy thoughts did not go away though, and he remained sleepless for the remainder of the night.

The next morning, Richard and his grandmother bade farewell and mounted the post chaise to London, Richard promising to pick up Ellen the next week. When they were alone, Ellen put her arm around Emily's shoulders and led her back into the house.

Over the next days, as the news of Andrew Lambert's death spread, large numbers of callers came to offer condolences. Andrew had been popular with his fellow officers, and many of them showed. Ellen used her discretion in screening the visitors. Some of them had been shipmates with Andrew. Those she bade to wait for Emily to receive them. Others followed good etiquette and were content to leave their calling cards with Ellen. A third group, to Ellen's bewilderment, were actually trying to woo the widow. Those were mostly impoverished officers, hoping to secure a wealthy widow. Of course, none of these came near to Emily. A fourth group, mostly women of all ages, came out of morbid curiosity so that they could gossip about the poor widow and how she suffered. These women did not find Ellen a forthcoming host, she merely received them on Emily's behalf and let them sign the condolence book, but offered no information, claiming that Emily only spoke to family.

In the evenings, the two women sat and spoke in low voices about the day's visitors. On the fourth evening, their conversation took another turn. Ellen had received a letter from Lucy that day, and she conveyed her stepmother's sympathy to Emily. Emily looked at Ellen intently.

"You know, I almost hated Lucy Wilkes?"

Ellen was surprised. Almost everybody she knew was fond of her stepmother.

"Why, what did she do?"

"Do you know that Andrew and Lucy... ?"

"Yes, they were engaged once, but he broke the engagement, and she found my stepfather. But that must have been several years before he met you."

"Do you know why Andrew married me?"

Ellen looked at the still pretty woman. "I can think of many reasons why a man would fall in love with you."

"You are sweet, Ellen. The truth is, he married me because he could not have Lucy. I was merely a surrogate for the woman he could not have. Similar size, similar complexion, and a very similar vita."

"You mean, you were deported, too?" Ellen asked, aware of Lucy's unhappy youth.

"No, but I would have been, had they apprehended me. It's ironic. Apparently, Lucy was deported over a loaf of bread. I was a real thief. I was a rather successful pick pocket for months, and the only one to catch me was Andrew. That's how we met, and I guess he saw me as a new incarnation of his beloved Lucy. Well, I should not complain. He was a good husband and father. But it makes me feel - I don't know, inferior? - to know that he never loved Emily Watson but an imperfect copy of Lucy Gutteridge."

"Did you love him?"

"Oh yes, he was my hero in those first years."

"But how come you were a thief, Emily? You are as well-educated as anyone I know. What happened?"

Emily smiled wryly and rose to put fresh logs in the fireplace.

"I hope you don't mind a long story, Ellen," she said calmly.



-------

Chapter 17: A Pick Pocket



It was close to midnight in the streets of Portsmouth on this memorable day in 1814. 17 year-old Emily Watson was torn between resignation and the fear of returning home without anything to show for her efforts. Her mistress expected her to bring home valuables or, preferably, coined money. Today had seemed promising. The public announcement of the Emperor Napoleon's surrender and the end of twenty years of war had driven out crowds of Navy officers and sailors as well as the citizens of Portsmouth to drink and celebrate. The bands of drunken sailors crowding the streets and ale houses had proven too dangerous for a frail girl of seventeen. She could not approach them closely enough to pick their pockets, fob watches and the like without running the risk of being grabbed. For in the general madness of the victory celebrations, even the constabulary was drunk and the sailors felt justified to do as they pleased, seeing that they had born the worst hardships to clinch that victory.

Across the street were the Long Rooms, a famous officers' club, where the well-to-do naval and army officers were doubtlessly celebrating, too. Emily could not hope to get access there - the club was gentlemen only – but she decided to wait outside for a chance, since the club's owner had posted burly bruisers at the entrance to prevent drunken sailors from gaining access. She reasoned that she was relatively safe in their presence. Plus, she was hoping to pluck one of the guests as they were leaving. She knew she would have to wait but this was better than her other prospects.

Her thoughts drifted back to her parents. What would they think if they knew their precious daughter had turned thief? A little over a year ago, her father, a physician and apothecary in the small town of Southwick, north of Portsmouth, had contracted the dreaded smallpox, the plague, and had died within days. He was followed soon by her mother who had taken care of her sick husband. Her father's younger brother had taken charge of her and of his brother's possessions. He moved into his brother's house with his family arguing that this way Emily could remain in her home.

In the beginning, he did not treat her badly, far from that. Soon, however, he was taking an improper interest in his niece. The sixteen year old was a pretty girl. He soon made it a habit to visit her room to say good night and to hug her. When, one evening, she asked him to stop that, he acted insulted and accused her of being ungrateful. He soon talked himself into a fit of rage and started to slap her face. Emily had never been beaten and stood in shock while her uncle began to tear at her nightshift. When his sweaty hands touched her small breasts, however, she snapped out of her shock. While fighting off his hands with her left, she grabbed a crucifix from the wall with her right and, with a strength surprising in such a frail girl, she hit her uncle, knocking him out cold with the heavy oak wood cross.

The blood was running from her uncle's temple and she was sure she had killed him. Panic filled her. Nobody would believe her if she claimed self defence. She quickly dressed and stuffed a small bag with some clothes and personal belongings. Quietly, she made her way out of her father's house. She slept in the barn of a farmer, and early in the morning, was on her way to Portsmouth. A friendly old man gave her a ride on his cart, and by early afternoon she was alone in this bustling navy port.

She found a room in a boarding house and started to look for employment. Her first idea was to serve in a doctor's office. She had picked up enough from her father to be useful, but women were frowned upon in the medical professions and she was turned down everywhere. She then tried to find herself a position as maidservant in some of the bigger households, but she was altogether too pretty and therefore was refused by the ladies of the households.

She was running out of money fast, and soon an evening came when she had to leave the boarding house. She did not know where to go and roamed the streets aimlessly. It was already dark when she ran into her fate. Turning a corner, she bumped into two drunken sailors who considered this an invitation.

She begged them to leave her alone, she cried, but the two men dragged her towards a dark alley. She shrieked for help and one of the men slapped her hard in the face. Through the mist of pain she suddenly heard a stream of foul language. Looking up, she saw a stout, elderly woman who was beating the two drunkards mercilessly with a heavy oaken walking stick. They were too drunk to offer any defence against the resolute woman and took to flight, receiving the last blows on their backs.

"Wot are yer doing 'ere at night, lass?" asked the woman.

Emily explained her situation and she noticed a sudden gleam in the old woman's eyes.

"Come wit' me, lass," she said. "Ye'll have to work fer yer livin' but ye'll be save wit' me."

With that, the woman took the lead and took young Emily to her house. It was a rather big house, not in the best part of the city to be sure, but solidly built and well kept. Emily was lead into a large common room and found several girls and young women sitting around a table. Emily gasped. For a moment, she was sure she had been snared into a whorehouse. The old woman cackled when she saw Emily's reaction.

"No worries, my lass. Them's me girls. Ye won't find no man 'ere in this 'ouse of mine. Ladies, this 'ere's Emily. She'll board wit' us. Sit down, lass."

This was how Emily became a member of Mistress Durning's sisterhood. The old woman kept her word, she was given a bed in a room with another girl her age, Millicent, and her virginity was never safer than under the old shrew's protection. The surprise came the next morning when Mistress Durning explained what her work would be. She had to learn the trade of a pick pocket. And since this was a difficult art, she was to practice it under Miss Durning's tutorship. In the meantime, she was to earn her keep by playing the bait in a honey trap. She was to stand helplessly at a corner down at the harbour. When an unfortunate sailor came along and approached her, she shrieked for help. Then, Miss Durning and another older woman of her gang came down on the poor sap like a ton of bricks, screaming, cussing, and beating him mercilessly. In the process, the poor man's purse would vanish miraculously, together with any other valuables he might carry on him. Emily became quite good at playing the innocent victim and in most cases the two women were even helped by bystanders who would drag the poor men to the constabulary. All the while she was practising the moves and tactics of a pickpocket. Soon she was allowed on the tours with the other girls to provide backup. Then came an evening when Emily made her first haul, a purse with almost 25 shillings and a gold sovereign to boot. That evening, they celebrated Emily in the common room and she received a third of the loot. One-third went to the mistress and the rest was divided among the sisterhood.

In the months to come, Emily became better and better, she learned the tactics and gained confidence. Soon she became one of the more successful members of the sisterhood, more than earning her living. Emily was excited. She was accepted by her "sisters", she lived comfortably, having a room of her own now, and she felt completely safe for the first time since her parents' death. Of course, it could not go well for long.

One evening, she acted as backup for young Millicent, her former roommate, who was to make her first haul. Millicent was nervous. Her hands were never as steady as Emily's during practice, but now her nerves failed her completely. Her victim caught on to her clumsy move and held her by the scruff of her neck. Too late, she tried to plead with the man, other bystanders had already alerted a constable on his rounds. Emily gasped when she saw it was the feared Constable Burrows. He took the statement of the irate citizen and dragged poor Millicent away.

Emily and the others ran home to alert Mistress Durning. That woman rushed to the constabulary and demanded that her niece be released into her custody, quietly slipping a few coins to the sergeant. Unfortunately, Burrows and his prisoner had not shown yet, and Mistress Durning had to wait for four hours until Burrows appeared. He was dragging a Millicent behind him who was doubled over in pain. Her face was a bloody mess and her dress was torn in many places, with blood stains on the skirt. In this condition, she was returned to Miss Durning with a strong admonishment to educate her better. They need not have worried. Millicent died a week later from mortification and from the wounds she had suffered at the hands of the brutal constable. Emily had spent most of her free time with her friend and had heard the story that she told in her lucid moments. The constable had taken her to an empty house, torn off her clothes, and raped her repeatedly and brutally. When her vagina was all torn and bloody, he had even penetrated her behind to 'teach her a lesson'.

Emily was horrified. She could not work anymore; her nerves were wrecked. Whenever she tried a haul, Millicent's violated body appeared before her eyes and she could not control her nerves and her hands. Repeatedly, she saw Constable Burrows on his beat, and cold fear gripped her when she saw him swaggering along the alleys. She was certain that she would be the next to be caught by him and violated.

For a few weeks, Mistress Durning was patient with her. However, when Emily returned home empty handed, day after day, her patience soon wore out and she began to chastise Emily, first with words and then with beatings. This morning, Emily had been sent out with the threat of being thrown out lest she brought in loot today.

Emily snapped out of her brooding. Gay voices could be heard from the entrance of the club across the street. She saw a small group of high Navy officers, four captains, exit the Long Rooms. It was obvious that they were not overly drunk, but Emily decided that she had to try now or never. Approaching the men, she faked a stumble and got a hold of a uniform coat, pretending to try to catch her balance. Politely, she excused herself, rightened herself and tried to walk on. A strong grip on her shoulder made her stop in her tracks.

"Please let me go, Sir, you are hurting me," she pleaded.

"Ah, I would but I cannot let go of my purse, young miss," came the friendly reply. "Surely you have taken it by accident. Now be a good girl and return it to me."

Emily looked into the face of the navy officer, a captain, and tried to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Excuse me Sir, somehow your purse must have hooked onto my hand when I stumbled."

Her excuse sounded ridiculous even in her own ears.

"Sure, girl, purses do that on their own," came the captain's sarcastic reply.

"Excuse me Sir," interjected one of the doormen of the club, "we have alerted the constable, Sir, and here he comes."

Emily whirled around and what she saw let her heart miss a few beats. It was Burrows who came swaggering towards them. She tugged desperately at the coat of the captain.

"Please, Sir, don't hand me over to that Constable, Sir. I'll do anything. Just don't hand me over. He's a bad man. He killed my friend. Please, protect me Sir, I'll do anything!"

Her feverish whisper died away. Burrows was there.

"Now wot have we 'ere? Another thieving brat. I'll teach you, girl, just as I taught that other one!"

A whimper came from within Emily's breast and she looked around feverishly for a chance to escape. Burrows seemed to be in a hurry. He stepped forward to apprehend the girl, but in the middle of his forward movement he was thwarted by the captain.

"Thank you, Constable, I'll take it from here. I am quite able handle the situation myself. After all, no damage was done. I will not press charges, so there is no need for you to get involved. Take this half sovereign for your trouble and have a good night!"

-------

Andrew Lambert, Captain R.N., was in an exceptionally good mood. He had dined well and in good company. Captain Sir Anthony Carter had been his commander way back when he was a junior lieutenant, and he was his brother in law to boot; and the other two captains had been part of the channel fleet like himself, in Portsmouth for necessary repairs. They had met at the Long Rooms at lunchtime to play a game of cards, but then the news of Napoleon's surrender had made all plans obsolete. They had celebrated, quietly, because of the relief they felt. They had discussed the future of the Royal Navy in the new situation. The conversation with Sir Anthony had given him a perspective of what to come. The most important thing was that he could not expect a sea command, now that the Navy would be reduced to a peace establishment. Not that he was sorry about that.

Ten days ago, his ship, the 74 gun ship of the line Prometheus, had sailed into Portsmouth harbour for a refitting. It was clear now that Prometheus would be the first ship of the Channel Fleet to be paid off.

He was not really wealthy, but his earnings of prize money had given him enough financial backup, and he was looking forward to enjoying his modest wealth and his standing in society in a world at peace. All in all, he felt good.

When they left the Long Rooms, he noticed the approaching girl, wondering what such a young girl was doing out on the streets after midnight. When the girl stumbled, his instinct was to help her. His keen alertness, trained in years of fighting, made him notice, though, that his purse was missing, and he reacted quickly. He was more amused than angry with the girl. He had never seen a female pick pocket, and he looked at the girl curiously. He was just contemplating what to do with her when the arrival of the constable was announced. He noticed the look of sheer terror in the eyes of the girl and her hoarse whisper, when she pleaded him not to turn her over, astonished him. Another thing: he could smell her fear. Even if she was a good actress, she could never fake that.

Captain Lambert was an old hand at fear. He had smelt it time and again, on board His Majesty's ships when they expected an enemy's broadside. In recent years, he had begun to feel growing apprehension, too, when they closed in on an enemy, and that troubled him.

Courage is a commodity reduced by spending, and Captain Lambert had been spending heavily in 15 years of fighting. He had seen his shipmates smashed into red pulp by round shot or torn to shreds by flying wood splinters. He had had his share of hand to hand combat, he had even fought two duels. He felt a strange sympathy with the scared girl.

He looked at the constable, and he disliked him immediately. A big brute of a man with a huge moustache and cruel grin, he was looking at the girl with lecherous eyes. That was why the captain interceded.

Constable Burrows glared with malice at the captain who had stayed him. He wanted that girl. He had not had one for weeks and this one would have been perfect. He did not dare, though, to oppose a captain of the Royal Navy. Let alone four of them, all richly clothed. With just one word to his sergeant they could make his life truly miserable.

He therefore bowed and took the money offered and went his way. He was angry, though, and he cursed the officer who had deprived him of his prey. He did not notice the older woman who approached him until she spoke up.

"Where's my girl Emily?" Mistress Durning asked with a stone face.

"Wot's it of your business, old hag?" Burrows retorted.

Just then, a heavy skillet impacted on the back of his head, and he sank to his knees. Blood was on his fingers when he touched his skull. A second blow with the skillet smashed those fingers, and a third finished him off.

"Well done, Gracie," commented Miss Durning to her accomplice who had sneaked up on Burrows from behind. "Now he can fry in hell."

They quickly left the scene and returned to their home. They had not found Emily, as they had intended when someone alerted them of Emily's arrest, but they had exacted revenge for Millicent. That alone was good enough, and Emily might still find her way home. If not, well, she was not that valuable to them anymore with all the nerves that she had shown in the past months.

-------

The coach lurched over the cobbled stones of the streets of Portsmouth. Emily sat frightened in a corner and studied the man who had first caught her and then saved her from Burrows. He appeared to be in his early thirties, with the mahogany skin of a sailor. His beard was well groomed and he wore his long reddish hair in a neat queue. It was difficult to gauge his size in the coach, but she remembered him to be quite tall, almost six feet. In the dark, she tried to read in his face. She did not know whether she had jumped from the frying pan into the fire when she had asked him to save her, he might be worse than Burrows for all she knew. With screeching brakes, the coach came to a halt. Emily looked out and saw the entrance to a large town house. The coachman jumped from his seat and rapped the door. It took only a minute until a livered man opened the door. Emily was ushered into the house by the captain and led into a candle lit room, obviously the main saloon.

"Sit", the captain ordered her, and she sat down in an upholstered chair.

A slender woman appeared, wearing a gown over a nightshirt, long hair flowing over her shoulders. She cast a glance at the girl and the captain and stated drily: "Now look what the cat's brought home."

"A young lady who promised me to do whatever I wanted if I just saved her from a mean looking constable who was about to arrest her. Since you have requested a help for the kitchen, my dear Mrs. Benson, I thought she could pay her dues by helping to prepare my meals. That should also serve to keep her out of trouble."

He grinned, first at Mrs. Benson and then at the girl. "But first, Mrs Benson, may I trouble you to find some food for this girl. She seems to be in need of a bite or two. Meanwhile, while you are looking after that, I shall interview our new help."

Mrs Benson left after a look at her employer, and Emily was alone with the captain.

"Now, girl", he said, "let us have the story of your life. Just the facts. Who are you, where do you come from, why did you snatch my purse? Kindly speak the truth. I have the means to check what you say, and if I catch you in a lie, I can still turn you over to that worthy constable who seemed to have taken such a liking to you. If I am satisfied that you speak the truth, I will allow you to stay in my house and work under Mrs. Benson. You will have a living and an honest way to earn it."

Emily thought but for a moment. This was the chance she was not given when she first came to Portsmouth. She looked at the captain, and he seemed sincere in his offer. She gulped once and decided to take her chance. Almost anything was better than the life in fear that she had led during those last months.

"I am Emily Watson, daughter of Edward Watson, apothecary and physician in the village of Southwick. My father and mother died of the smallpox last spring, and his brother, my uncle, took care of me..."

In monotonous voice, for she was dead tired, she related her story, how she fought off her amorous uncle, fled to Portsmouth, found no job and came to join Mistress Durning's "sisterhood". She told him about poor Millicent and how her nerves were ruined after that. When she finished, Mrs. Benson who had returned with food and heard most of the story, dried her eyes and hugged the girl.

"You poor thing, alone in the world and persecuted by evil men and women. Don't worry any more, child. You will be safe in this house. Have a bite to eat, and then I will show you to your room upstairs. It's side to side with my own room."

Andrew Lambert was silent. The story the girl had told reawakened bitter sweet memories in him. Again, an orphaned girl, down on her luck, had been thrown into the path of his life. The first time, he had woefully failed to appreciate his luck, had thrown away his happiness for lack of courage.

The wonderful woman, Lucy Gutteridge, had left him when he had shown himself unworthy of her love, and the memory still hurt. She was happily married now, and her husband was a prominent London surgeon. He saw her frequently, because she was a close friend of his sister, and every time he met her, he asked himself how things may have evolved back then if he had not been ashamed for his love to a poor orphan girl.

As it was, he was considered a confirmed bachelor by his family, much to the chagrin of his parents. He could not help it. His second engagement, to a young woman from a prominent family, had ended in a complete disaster after just a few weeks. In the aftermath, his future father-in-law had shot himself, his prospective mother-in-law had to be committed to an asylum for the insane, and the brother of the girl, the driving force behind the engagement, was blown to bits during a suicide mission on the French coast for which he had volunteered.

The captain forced himself out of his reverie and smiled wryly when he saw his housekeeper taking charge; he knew better than to interfere. He bade both women Good Night and retired to his own bedroom. It had been an eventful day. Soon he heard both women climbing the stairs to the upstairs servant's quarters. To brush away the disquieting thoughts he told himself that he had merely secured a household help to keep Mrs. Benson off his back.

-------

When Andrew Lambert awoke the next day, it was late morning. He grinned to himself, resting in bed lazily and hearing the distant bustle in the streets. He was permanently on leave. There was a more than even chance that he would never again have to get up at sunrise if he did not want to. Before his mental eye, a hearty breakfast appeared, bread rolls, ham and egg, jam, everything fresh. This was luxury to a man who had lived on salted pork, pea soup and maggot-ridden ship biscuit for most of his life. He pulled the bell and sat up. Moments later a girl showed and looked at him silently and with apprehension.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked gruffly before comprehension dawned upon him. "Wait, you're the Watson girl with the quick fingers. Get me fresh water for shaving and tell Mrs. Benson I'll have a full breakfast with coffee, ham and eggs, sausages and bread! Tell her I'll have it in half an hour latest. Now jump to it!"

The girl bolted out of the room and returned not a minute later with fresh water. The Captain proceeded to shave himself and then used the water to wash his body thoroughly. That done, he put on his breeches, a fresh shirt and his uniform coat. He stopped.

'I shan't need this coat. Not today. Maybe never again, ' he mused.

He put on a light coat made of silk and walked downstairs into the study where his breakfast was waiting for him. Mrs. Benson stood by the table.

"You'll want to speak more kindly to the girl, Captain", she admonished him. "She was right terrified of you."

Elisabeth Benson had been with her employer for ten years. She was closer to him than most anybody else, bachelor that he was.

"All right, send her in."

When Emily came in he spoke to her in a friendly tone: "Listen, girl. I will never be nice to anyone before my first cup of coffee. Don't you get any wrong ideas. It has nothing to do with you. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded. Then she crinkled her nose, thinking. "Would it help if I brought you a cup of coffee to your room, first thing after you wake up?"

"God, yes, girl. You do that and I shall be the kindest man on earth," laughed the Captain. "Did you sleep well, this first night in my house?" he then queried.

"Very well, Captain. Mrs. Benson let me sleep until 9 o'clock, seeing that you were fast asleep."

"Good thinking, Mrs. Benson. We could all use the sleep. But now, Ladies, let me turn my attention to this excellent breakfast before it gets cold."

Mrs. Benson and Emily retreated and the captain enjoyed his coffee and food. Having finished, he studied the newspaper. It was, of course, full with the news of Napoleon's defeat. Louis 18th was to take the throne of his fathers, and the world would be at peace. Again, Captain Lambert marvelled at the turn of events. He was thirty-two now, and for fifteen years, he had served in the Royal Navy. He had risen from midshipman to lieutenant, and, nine years ago, to captain. A fast career mostly due, as he acknowledged, to the fact that his father was a full admiral. This was the life he knew, but things would be different now.

He tried to gather his thoughts on the tasks at hand. But there was nothing to do, safe for the probe into the background of the girl he had picked up the night before.

-------

Half an hour later found him at the door of Mr. James Hogsbotham, Attorney at Law and Barrister. The worthy man provided counsel to almost everyone in the Lambert family. Being a man of importance, he was shown to Mr. Hogsbotham's study immediately. He explained how he had found the girl, Emily Watson, and what she had told him about her family and how she came to run away from her home and birthright. He asked the attorney to look into the matter and verify the girl's story.

In spite of his name, Mr. Hogsbotham was a shrewd man. He knew that Captain Lambert had not told him the full story and that he never would. He also saw this was an easy task, and the Captain was a client worth keeping. Thus, he agreed to investigate the matter.

That settled, Capt. Lambert directed his steps back to his home. At his gate, he found a burly man in civilian clothes.

"Captain Andrew Lambert?" the man asked with an official voice.

"Yes, indeed," the captain answered politely and somewhat puzzled. "And, pray, with whom do I have the honour?"

"I am Inspector Teal, of the constabulary, Sir. Could I perhaps trouble you for a few minutes?"

"Certainly, Inspector. Please do come in."

Captain Lambert ushered his visitor into his study. He rang the bell and when Mrs. Benson showed, he called for refreshments. Inspector Teal, however, declined any of the offered food.

"Our Constable Burrows was found dead this morning. He was murdered. I have come to you, Sir, since it seems that you were the last person who saw Constable Burrows alive. I was told that you had an argument with him in front of the Long Rooms."

Captain Lambert raised an eyebrow to express his astonishment.

"I am most sorry to hear that, Inspector. Yes, I met a Constable in front of the Long Rooms, but we did not have an argument. I gave him half a sovereign for his troubles."

"Because he gave in to your wishes?"

"No, because he had hastened to the place in vain. Somebody had told him that I had apprehended a thief, but that had been a misunderstanding. So he went on his way and I took my coach."

"And this person who had been mistaken for a thief, could that person have something to do with the Constable's death? From what I heard, he took his task seriously and went after wrongdoers with determination."

The inspector could not help but notice the captain's contempt.

"Determination, right! You mean, he abused his position of authority to prey on helpless girls? I have heard of one case where a girl, after being arrested by him, died of the injuries she sustained. After meeting your constable, I tend to believe this account. How can you tolerate a man like this in the constabulary?"

Inspector Teal's face became purple. Of course, he knew of Burrow's strange proclivities. But how did this captain know of it?

"Sir! Constable Burrows was widely feared by wrongdoers and he kept his patrol beat clean of any thieving vermin."

"Ahh, so you employ a murderer to keep petty thieves at bay! The wisdom of such a policy is beyond me. But to answer your question, the person in question left the scene with me. I have entrusted her to my housekeeper's care and she will learn to make an honest living."

"Are you shielding a thief from the law, Sir?"

"As I said, it was a misunderstanding. There was no theft. And I hardly believe that you may endeavour to question my word."

The inspector swallowed at that hardly veiled threat. He was walking on thin ice, he realised.

"Did you make any other observations that may help us to apprehend the murderer, Sir?" he asked with an effort.

Captain Lambert thought for a moment. Then, with finality, he shook his head.

"I am afraid no, Inspector, there is nothing that I remember that may help you. However, if something comes to my mind, I shall contact you immediately."

He rose and Inspector Teal accepted the dismissal.

"Thank you for your patience, Captain," he said acidly.

"Not at all, Inspector. Good luck!"

Andrew Lambert was in deep thought when the inspector had left. He fervently hoped that the girl had not misled him. He realised that he wanted to believe her, and that something about her might cloud his judgement.

He saw her again when she served the supper. The way she placed the plates and bowls, the silverware and glasses on the table, she either had practised or she really had grown up in a good household. As another test, he bade her set the table for two more persons, and when she had complied, called for Miss Benson and bade both women to sit.

"I don't like to eat alone," he grumbled, more to himself, by way of explanation.

"Should I set the table like this every evening?" Miss Benson enquired cautiously.

"Yes, why not, at least until further orders, err, notice," he corrected himself. He did not give orders to Miss Benson.

He watched Emily unobtrusively during the meal, and he came to the conclusion that at least the part of her story about her parents must be true, for she ate with the ingrained manners of a girl from a good family.

-------

The next morning, a visitor was announced to Andrew Lambert, and he received a young man in his study.

"Captain, I am Mortimer Hogsbotham. My father has given me the task to make inquiries about the orphan Emily Watson."

"I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Hogsbotham," Andrew responded politely. "I did not expect any information so quickly."

The young man bowed politely.

"It was rather simple, really, Captain. I recalled a newspaper article from last year, and I went from there. It appears that the information you were given by Miss Watson matches the results of my research. She was orphaned 16 months ago, and her uncle Jeremiah Watson moved into her parents' home with his family, pretending to take care of the girl. The girl vanished from the village thirteen months ago, coinciding with the fact that her uncle showed a severe bruising on his temple that he could not account for. An inquiry was ordered by the Justice of the Peace, since the girl's father had been a prominent citizen. The uncle was unable to explain his wound and he was accused of killing his ward and making her disappear. A maid testified that she had heard shouting and the sounds of a fight from the girl's room, and the jury found him guilty of murder. The Judge imposed another year of waiting on the off-chance that the girl might still surface, but in three weeks Mr. Watson will hang. He is at Bodmin Prison awaiting his fate."

"So, she better show in person before the judge to prevent her uncle's execution?"

"She better did, Captain. If she knew about her uncle's situation but did not show, then she could be charged with murder."

"Quite. Anything else?"

"Her parent's house was put into trust, and her uncle's family was evicted. Income from the lands owned by the late Dr. Watson was also diverted into a trust fund."

"Do you think that the judge may be open to appointing another guardian for her?"

"Such as yourself, Captain?"

Andrew smiled.

"Wouldn't that seem awkward?"

"I cannot see, why. You took her in already and took care of her. You acted responsibly to ascertain her background. I do not see problems."

"All right. I will speak to the girl, and we will travel to Southwick tomorrow. Would it inconvenience you greatly to accompany us? I have yet to deal with a Justice of the Peace, and I would feel more comfortable if you were there to advise us."

"Certainly, Captain. By what time would you care to leave Portsmouth?"

"Would seven o'clock be too early?"

"Not at all, Captain. I shall be here tomorrow at 7."

Young Mr. Hogsbotham left, and Captain Lambert rang the bell. As he had anticipated, Emily answered the summons.

"Yes, Captain Lambert?"

"Have a seat, Emily."

The girl sat, looking warily at her employer.

"We have to travel to Southwick tomorrow, you, me, and my attorney. Don't worry! What you told me has been verified completely. But you need to appear before the Justice of the Peace to save your uncle from the gallows."

Emily gasped.

"Yes, when you disappeared, he could not explain the bruises on his head. He was convicted for murdering you, but the execution was stayed for one year, lest you somehow were still alive. That year will be over soon."

"Please, Captain Lambert, I don't want to go back to him!" she begged.

"You won't have to. Believe me, he will be thankful for you to show up at all. He will not object to my request to become your guardian."

Emily stared at him.

"You would do that? Why?"

He looked at her, contemplating whether to speak the truth.

"Emily, ten years ago, I knew a girl who was in a similar situation as I found you in. I helped her a little bit, but I failed her ultimately. It will lessen my feeling of guilt if you allow me to help you."

"What do you expect from me?"

"To continue your education, for once. And to grace my table with your presence."

Emily swallowed.

"There is not anything else, is there?"

"Emily, you are a very pretty young woman, and if you will eat properly for a few weeks, I suppose you will be downright beautiful. I do not know a lot about you yet, but I will not deny the possibility that I may grow to care about you. But I will never, do you understand, never, force myself upon you nor pressure you into yielding to something that you do not want. Can you believe that?"

She nodded. "Thank you. I would love for you to be my guardian, Captain Lambert."

He smiled. "You will also be able to claim your inheritance. A trust was established over which you can dispose when you will marry or when you will be of age."

The girl nodded, relieved of her worry about her future.

-------

The visit to Southwick was but brief. Emily identified herself to the Justice who called for witnesses who verified her identity. She also reported what had happened on the night of her disappearance, and the Justice approved the change of guardianship from her uncle to Captain Lambert. Her father's house had been rented to a new practitioner, and the income she received would be at her disposition. Emily also insisted on providing a sum of money to her uncle's family. They had been suffering since his imprisonment, and Emily did not want them to live in poverty.

They returned to Portsmouth late in the evening, and after dinner, when Emily wanted to go to bed, Mrs. Benson showed her into a different room, on the second floor, not a servant's chamber, but a real bedroom. She was the daughter of the house now.

-------

Over the next year, Emily Watson went to school again. Once or twice, she met members of Mrs. Durning's old sisterhood when she went to market. Durning herself had had to flee Portsmouth because the police had found out about the murder of the constable. The girls and women disbanded once their leader was gone, but one of the other women assembled a few of them around her as nucleus of a new gang. One of the young girls asked her if she knew of any honest employment, and Emily persuaded Mrs. Benson and Captain Lambert to accept the girl, Tess, as a new kitchen help.

Then came Napoleon's Reign of the Hundred Days. While troops were ferried to the continent in a frenzy, the Royal Navy was re-established. Andrew Lambert had no difficulties to snare an 84-gun ship, the Temereire, and when he went aboard his new command, Emily realised how much she felt for her guardian. The letters they sent to each other now on an almost daily basis bespoke of the growing affection between them as Andrew Lambert, too, felt how much the young woman had grown to him. When Napoleon's reign ended for good in the bloody Battle of Waterloo, the Temereire returned to Portsmouth two months later, after escorting the Northhumberland with the captive emperor to St. Helena. It was Emily Watson who waited for Captain Lambert on the quay, and they professed their love for each other. Together, they travelled to London. There, in his parent's house, they were engaged on New Year's Eve, 1815. The wedding was celebrated in Portsmouth, though, in the spring of 1816, and, in January of 1817, their first daughter, Eleanor, was born. In quick succession, three more girls, Harriet, Millicent, and Catherine, were conceived and born until the difficult birth of Catherine rendered Emily unable to have more children.



-------

Chapter 18: Noblesse oblige

"Are you sure that it is all right for us to visit Binning's stupid reception?"

Richard Carter, 3rd Baron Lambert, had asked the question before, and his grandmother's answer was no different from her previous ones.

"Of course, you can go, Richard. Besides, poor Ellen has been preparing for over a week. And Marjorie has worded her invitation in a very conciliatory tone, so you really have to go. You have a position in society, Richard, and you have to act accordingly. Noblesse oblige! Now go and pick up Ellen. I am sure that she is excited already, and the girl has earned every bit of pleasure she can get."

There was a lot of milord here and milord there as Richard readied himself to leave. So much had changed over this year! His whole life had turned upside down, and he still felt dizzy at times. Moving in with his grandmother had been one of the nicer consequences. In his will, his Uncle Andrew had bequeathed the house to Richard with the obvious condition that Old Lady Lambert would continue to live there. A sum of twenty thousand pounds from the old Admiral's fortune had also gone to Richard, to maintain a lifestyle in keeping with the title, Andrew Lambert had written.

Aunt Emily had elected to stay in Portsmouth. She had always been uncomfortable in the bustle of the capital, and the memorial church service for her dead husband had not improved her views. Andrew had been promoted Rear Admiral post humus, and a plate with his name and a brief description of his accomplishments had been dedicated and mounted at Westminster Abbey, in spite of her wish to hold that service in Portsmouth. Friends and fellow officers had shown in large numbers and, despite the shielding by her close relatives, she had felt overwhelmed with the sheer number of people who claimed to sympathise with her. The eulogy was delivered by Richard's father, Rear Admiral Sir Anthony Carter, who had been visibly moved by the occasion, and Richard had seen that his mother had difficulties keeping her countenance while her husband recalled the first meeting between the boy Andrew and the youth Anthony Carter. Aunt Lucy had been there, too, and she had cried softly when Sir Anthony mentioned the four fatherless daughters left behind. All in all, it had been a solemn and fitting ceremony, but Emily Lambert had decided that this was all she wanted to see of London's society for a long time.

His aunt's needs had been well taken care of. Andrew Lambert had not been rich, by any means, but he had inherited a large part of his father's fortune, and he had done prudent and secure investments of his own earnings that would allow his wife and daughters a comfortable life, and his daughters an adequate dowry for when they would marry.

All this left Richard in a position he was not prepared for, at least mentally. He had given up his seat in the Commons, and he currently planned for his maiden speech in the Lords. He was also courted by the ruling Whigs to accept a post in government, but nothing was available in his prefence, the Trade Ministry, and Sir Robert Norton advised him to bide his time until something worthwhile came along.

Over all these thoughts, his coach had arrived at the Wilkes' home, and he alighted. Of course, Ellen was ready, she was even wearing her cloak already and, after a brief conversation with Sir Jonathan and Lucy, he led her to the coach.

"You look most wonderful tonight, Ellen," he said in admiration. And she did. Her long blond tresses had been tamed into a thick braid, but a part of her curls had been left to frame her face. She was wearing his grandmother's gift around her neck, and the sparkle of the sapphires competed with her blue eyes.

"Thank you, Richard," she smiled. "I am a bit nervous. It's been a while since I was on a ball."

"A year," Richard stated. "And what a year it was!"

"It was, wasn't it," Ellen consented. "Let us not speak about it today, Richard. We don't want to be the spectre at the feast. Look, we're already there."

And so they were. A footman opened the coach door, and Richard alighted and helped Ellen climb down. Offering her his arm, he led her up the stairs and into the foyer. He could not help but feel apprehension. The last time he'd been here had been almost disastrous. He helped Ellen take off her cloak and then took off his own, handing both to another footman. The place was crawling with servants, Richard noticed. He also noticed Ellen's dress and he held his breath. Elisabeth Wilson had outdone herself, he decided. The dress was a dream of light blue silk, and it showed Ellen's figure to it's utmost advantage. Richard had to fight the urge to wrap his arms around her. Side by side, they entered the ballroom.

"Lord Lambert, Miss Ellen Trilby!" they were announced, and a few people even looked up.

Of those, the female ones looked at Ellen with a mixture of envy and admiration. After all, this girl from dubious background had snared one of the most eligible bachelors London had to offer this season.

Marjorie Binnings rushed to greet them.

"My dear Lord Lambert, this is so nice of you to show after what your family has been through his year. I trust you will enjoy the evening."

Her gaze swept over Ellen.

"And here we have our beautiful Ellen again. Tell me, this is a Wilson creation, isn't it? I knew it! Well, enjoy yourself! Ah! There is Lord Liverpool!"

And off she was greeting another guest on this, her most important night of the year. But her big moment was yet to come. Another half hour later, the butler announced the next guests, and even he was excited.

"His Royal Highness, Louis the First of Bavaria, Miss Anita Heyworth!"

There was a gasp around the room. They all knew that the Bavarian King was in London, in fact he had visited twice before when he was Crown Prince. But they knew he was accompanied by his wife, the Queen Wilhelmina. And now he led the retired acting legend Anita Heyworth into the room. This was what Marjorie Binnings lived for! This juicy bit of news would suffice for weeks of gossiping and speculation.

The king and the actress stood in a ring of people, but now and then, Ellen could see her. Finally, Anita's eye caught her, and she waved her hand. After a few more minutes, she resolutely steered the king away from the throng of people. Ellen became nervous when she realised they were headed towards her and Richard.

"Louis, mon cher, I would like you to meet some friends of mine. This is Lord Lambert, the son of my life-long friends, Richard and Harriet Carter. And this his is fiancé, Miss Ellen Trilby, arguably the most beautiful woman in London. My dears, this is my old friend Louis, King of Bavaria."

Ellen did her most elaborate curtsey, blushing pink at Anita's words, and Richard bowed deeply. But the King simply offered his hand for a shake, and Richard complied in a daze. Then His Majesty took Ellen's hand and kissed it.

"Mademoiselle, every time I visit this city, I am enthralled with the beauty of the English women. And today, I have the unexpected pleasure to be in the presence of the most beautiful women of two generations. I count myself blessed by this good fortune."

"Your Majesty is far too kind," Ellen managed to say breathlessly.

"You must meet my wife. My poor Wilhelmina is, how do you say?, under the weather. She asked Anita to accompany me in her stead, but she should be fine again tomorrow. We shall have a little tea reception at our embassy at four. Will you do me the favour and attend?"

"Of course, Your Majesty, we shall be most honoured," Richard answered, struggling to maintain his good manners. "As we all are by your presence here."

The King smiled and turned to Anita.

"I wager not two people in this room even know where Bavaria is."

"After your acquisition of the Franconian duchies, your kingdom extends from the River Main to the Alps, bordering on Austria, Hassia, and Wurttemberg. The economy is mostly based on agriculture, but you control major trading cities such as Augsburg, and two major waterways, the Main and the Upper Danube."

The King stared at Richard. "How do you know this?"

"I chose international trade as my focus of interest, and a grasp of geography and economy is a prerequisite."

"And you, Miss Trilby? What do you know about my country?"

"That you have the most beautiful lakes and snow-covered mountains. And that your subjects are convinced that Bavarian beer is the best in the world." Ellen laughed delightedly at his astounded expression. "My mother and I spent a fortnight in the Lake District, and there was a traveller, a Count Hohenstedt, who told us all about your kingdom."

The King slapped his thigh in excitement. "He told me of you! Hohenstedt! That's is why I knew you! He drew a few sketches of you and your mother and showed them to me. You must come tomorrow!"

They talked for a few more minutes, and from the corner of her eyes, Ellen could see an angry glare from Marjorie Binnings. She wanted to boast with her royal guest, but the king spent his time with those upstarts. Ellen decided not to cause bad feelings.

"Perhaps, Richard, we should not usurp His Majesty's time. We shall have more time to talk tomorrow."

Anita answered her with an approving glance.

"She is right, Louis, there are some more people you should meet."

"Oh well, let us then. But you promised to come tomorrow!"

With that, Anita and the king were off. Ellen and Richard danced a few dances and in between, they met several people of their acquaintance. It was not the most exciting event they ever attended, but it was not bad either. Towards the end, Richard was greeted by a youngish man who was obviously more than a little drunk.

"Carter, old boy! Where s'hell have you been?"

"Hello, James," Richard answered cautiously.

"I heard you being announshed, you're what, Lord Lambert now?"

"Indeed, yes."

"Jolly good, old boy! I'll be having a bash in my house after this. Care to join us? There's a lot of the old Eton gang coming, and we'll have some fun, if you know what I mean."

"Afraid not, James. I'm here with my fiancé. Ellen, this is James Taylor, He was my classmate in Eton. James, this is my fiancé, Miss Trilby."

The man looked Ellen over without a trace of shame.

"Pity that. Not that I blame you, though. Your servant, Miss. Have fun, old boy!"

The man disappeared, and Ellen looked at Richard.

"What can I say," Richard sighed, "he never was my friend to begin with."

"Good for you," Ellen answered. The man had made her feel uncomfortable; she had thought him uncouth and arrogant.

They left shortly thereafter, and the coach brought them to Richard's house. Ellen wished Richard's grandmother a happy new year, a wish that was received with a smirk by the old woman. Anything better than this last year would be just fine.

Ellen would have loved to stay a little while longer, especially after Lady Lambert retired, but there was a distance between her and Richard that she was at a loss at how to bridge. The easy way the two young people connected and interacted had suffered from the events of the past year. It felt almost inappropriate for her to ask him for a kiss. There were worlds between them, socially speaking, and Ellen realised that many people considered the planned wedding between the young Lord Lambert and the daughter of an obscure officer a mesalliance. Richard had never mentioned a word, but she had heard through the gossip mill that several families had contacted Richard about a possible marriage, his open commitment notwithstanding.

"I had better see you home, Ellen," Richard said into the silence that had engulfed them, eerily mirroring her thoughts.

"I suppose you should," she answered. "Do you think we may have some time alone together soon? I miss you terribly lately. We seem to live parallel lives. It's been weeks since you kissed me properly."

"I know, Ellen," Richard sighed. "This last year was terrible, and I have not given you the attention I should have. But we have to be more careful now. I am in the public eye now, and everything we do will be scrutinised. Things that Richard Carter did with Ellen Trilby were of much less interest to the gossipers. And you have to realise that a lot of women are envious of you."

Ellen took offence.

"I should think a lot of men are envious of you as well!"

Richard realised his poor wording.

"No, that is not what I wanted to say, Ellen. I am grateful that you will have me as your husband. You are all I ever want."

Ellen looked at him and decided he was sincere.

"I'm sorry, Richard. I have been too touchy. And yes, I am aware of the gossip and the envy, and it makes me insecure. It is just, if you were to hold me and kiss me from time to time like we did when we were engaged, I would feel assured of your love. But we have grown so distant, we never touch."

Predictably, Richard embraced her in response, but to Ellen, the distance remained. He did not seem to covet her like he did. Maybe things would be better after the wedding, she decided. But when she arrived at her parents home, she saw Lucy and Jonathan in the living room. They had fallen asleep in each other's arms on a comfortable sofa. The sight of her parents in their loving embrace made her more aware of what was lacking from her relationship with Richard.

-------

Ellen had taken advice from Richard's grandmother about how to dress and behave at a Royal tea time. She was wearing a charcoal dress that highlighted her hair and complexion. She and Richard arrived at the Bavarian ambassador's residence at four, and they were greeted by the King and introduced to the queen who was sitting with Anita Heyworth. Lord Brougham and his wife Moira were there as well, and they greeted Ellen and Richard friendly.

Majorie Binnings had been invited, too. She had worked hard for this distinction, and when she saw Ellen sitting with Queen Wilhelmina, she almost stomped her feet. This impertinent person seemed to achieve almost everything with just a toss of her hair and a smile. And that love sick idiot, Richard Carter, who could have just every woman London had to offer would marry this insignificant girl and make her Lady Lambert. She saw her present paramour, Sir Gilbert Hume, come over. Hume was just a bumbling idiot, and his position and connections in the Foreign Office made him barely tolerable. The loss of her true love, James Finney, hurt again. It was not fair. The stupid boy who had killed him and the stupid girl who had lured him were happy together, while she had to make do with the likes of Hume. Marjorie Binnings decided that something had to be done.

-------

In mid-January, Sir Anthony and Harriet Carter received a letter that caused a great deal of joy and excitement in their household. Emily Pembroke, as Emily Whitecliff the stepchild of the Carters, was returning from India where her husband, Jeremiah, an engineer, had been employed by the East India Company to supervise the construction of roads and bridges. Emily wrote that she would visit, bringing along her husband and her two sons. Ellen learned with astonishment that Richard had an older stepsister, and Richard explained that the headstrong girl had gone off to India at the age of twenty-two, and without the Carters' approval, to work as a house teacher. In India, she had met her future husband Jeremiah when the young engineer was a guest of her employer, and they had married soon after. She had written on occasion, but it would be the first time for the Carter family to see the lost daughter in seven years. Ellen also learned that Emily Pembroke was born as the daughter of Sir Anthony's housekeeper, and she had been accepted as the Carters' stepdaughter upon her mother's untimely death. From what Ellen gathered, Richard and Eleanor had mixed memories of her, seeing that she had been a strong-willed girl with a fiery temper.

The Pembrokes actually arrived in London not three weeks behind their letter, their ship having had a much faster passage than the preceding vessel that had carried the letter. Ellen was visiting with Harriet when a servant announced visitors, and she witnessed as Harriet received her stepdaughter, her husband, and the two boys. There was an awkward moment, but Harriet bridged that by stepping forward and taking the young woman into her arms.

Ellen watched curiously. Nobody would call Emily Pembroke a beauty, but she was by no means unattractive. She had a vitality that radiated from her, and an open, friendly smile. Her copper red hair added to that impression while her tall and sinewy body was shown to good advantage by the close-fitting dress she wore. Her husband, Jeremiah, was a shy man and obviously flustered, while the boys, six and four years old, held each other's hand as they stood in the foreign house. Harriet gave Jeremiah a friendly welcome, and then greeted Emily's sons with a grandmotherly air that Ellen found amusing. When Ellen was introduced as Richard's fiancé, she found herself in a violent hug by the tall woman, and she was impressed with her strength.

The visitors were shown into the salon and within two hours, the entire family had gathered there. Richard and Ellen received hugs and kisses when they came, but when Sir Anthony arrived, Emily Pembroke became apprehensive. She looked at the man with obvious trepidation.

"I am very sorry for the way I disappeared," she began. "I know it must have seemed ungrateful to you and to Harriet. Seeing that I found my happiness, I cannot regret going to India, but I am sorry for the way I treated you. Can you forgive me?"

Sir Anthony looked at the young woman for a moment before a smile showed on his face.

"I guess you cannot help being Rose Mulcahy's daughter. She could be quite stubborn herself, and we should have seen it in time. But there is no use in crying over spilt milk. All is well that ends well, and you have obviously found your happiness. Welcome back, Emily!"

They hugged, and then the Admiral greeted Jeremiah Pembroke with a handshake. The man was even more tongue-tied now, having learned that his wife's brother was a Peer of England, but Emily, once she had settled her business with Sir Anthony, carried the conversation. She related her experiences in mysterious India, she told of poisonous snakes, of tame elephants, and of the fabulous wealth of the Indian rulers. Obviously, she had accompanied her husband to his various assignments, had slept in tents and bamboo huts, and had eaten the food of the simple people. Her robust health had seen her through various indigenous diseases, and she and her husband had once shot a man-eating tiger who had prowled around their camp. The whole family was amazed at the life she had led, and Harriet repeatedly shook her head in wonder.

Of course, the Carters also related the events of the last years, and it was Emily's turn to listen to the story of Richard and Ellen, of Eleanor and Antonio, and of poor Andrew Lambert's fate.

The Pembrokes planned on staying in London for a few days before visiting Jeremiah's parents in Birmingham. Jeremiah wanted to visit the construction site of the Thames Tunnel between Rotherhithe and Wapping which was in an early phase of construction. They would settle in Birmingham where Jeremiah would work with his father, a civil engineer like him. When Jeremiah talked of his profession, his shyness evaporated and he became eloquent and convincing. The elder Carters decided that their stepdaughter, although acting rashly, had found a most promising husband, and in a private moment, they congratulated her on her choice. The whole visit turned out as successful reconciliation, and Emily promised to keep the contact and to attend Richard's wedding.

-------

The preparations for the wedding began in earnest in mid-March. They decided on a rather small affair, involving only family and the closest friends. Ellen spent countless hours at Elisabeth Wilson's fashion shop, together with Lucy, Eleanor, and Harriet. Eleanor would serve as bridesmaid, and she hoped for Antonio to return in time for her brother's wedding. It would be a perfect occasion to announce their public engagement.

Richard had, in the past months, found a circle of friends, and he often spent time with them, not to Ellen's delight. It was not so much the hours he spent with them, but who they were. The arrogant James Taylor was one of them, together with other, equally useless young men who squandered their allowances or their inherited fortune. She mentioned once that she did not appreciate his new friends, but he told her, rather curtly, that he was happy to have found friends who appreciated him. He certainly did not squander his money like these young men did, nor did he gamble or drink heavily. But they somehow contrived to include him more and more into their circle.

From Lady Wheeler, Ellen heard one afternoon that James Taylor was a nephew of Marjorie Binnings. She felt uncomfortable with that, but she did not dare to bring up that fact with Richard. The distance between them had grown even wider, and her hope that the wedding would make things right again, dwindled away. A week before the wedding, Richard told her that his friends would throw him a bachelor party on the eve of the wedding. Ellen was barely able to contain her anger at that point. It was hard enough for her to accept Richard's choice of James Taylor as his best man. And now this. Richard would get drunk, he would have a hangover the next day, and he would be an embarrassment at the wedding.

The eve of the wedding found Ellen in a morose state of thoughts. Secretly, she even began to question the wedding, knowing full well that stepping back from the altar would create a huge scandal that would forever prevent her from finding an appropriate husband. Lucy watched her silently from across the living room, asking herself what was going wrong when they heard the door bell. A few minutes later, the manservant came in to present a letter to Ellen that had been delivered to the door. Ellen opened it, and Lucy could see the tears in her eyes. She quickly stepped over and looked over Ellen's shoulder.

'My dear Miss Trilby,

it has come to my knowledge that your fiancé is celebrating his bachelor party at a place called the Honey Pot in the East End, an establishment of ill repute that caters to the lowest instincts of men. My conscience urges me to inform you of this fact and of my worry that the so-called bachelor party will end up in the adjoining house of convenience. Although I am convinced of his lordship's love for you, men are easily led astray when drink is abundant.'

There was no signature, but Lucy was sure of the sender. It had to be Binnings who tried to put a wedge between Richard and Ellen.

"Ellen, I'm sure there is nothing to this. I'm sure Binnings wrote this, and she wants to sow distrust. Do not fall into her trap."

Ellen looked up, her tears flowing over her cheeks.

"There is more to this, Lucy. James Taylor is Binnings' nephew, and he's been needling Richard for months about my humble origin. And Richard has been eating this up. Can I have the coach? I must know."

"Only if you allow me to come with you," Lucy responded, and Ellen nodded thankfully.

A half hour later found the two women sitting in their coach, across from the entrance of the Honey Pot. Lucy had insisted on taking two loaded pistols as precaution, for the neighbourhood was not suitable for decent women. Whenever the door of the establishment opened, their heard merry voices and the sound of glasses and bottles. Around midnight, a throng of people milled out, and Ellen cried silently when she saw Richard in the centre, his arm around a young woman. The other men cheered and whistled, and then, Richard led the young woman into an adjacent building. Lucy wanted to get up and go after Richard, but Ellen's hand stayed her.

"Don't bother, Lucy, it does not matter anymore," she whispered. "Let us go please."

Lucy gave the driver word, and the coach left the curb and headed back to their home.

"What are you going to do about this, Ellen?" Lucy asked her stepdaughter after a few minutes.

She could see Ellen's distorted smile in the darkness.

"I shall prepare a parcel for his lordship," she answered with an unsteady voice. "And I have to write to Old Lady Lambert. I have to explain to her, and to Harriet."

Lucy nodded in the dark. It was over. This stupid, immature boy had managed to kill Ellen's love. Why could he not simply ask her to give him up? Why hurt her so much? Even Andrew Lambert had shown more class. Well, she was going to tell Harriet, and she would make sure that everybody knew whom to blame for the fallout.



-------

Chapter 19: The Breakup



Richard Carter, 3rd Baron Lambert, woke up with a royal head ache. Not that he had slept enough, but the butler, Oldroyd, was standing by his bedside, shaking him hesitantly.

"Lady Lambert's compliments, milord, and you must wake up and prepare for the ceremony."

"What time is it, then?" Richard croaked.

"Almost nine o'clock, milord."

"All right then," Richard moaned. "Anything else?"

"Yes, milord, there is this parcel here, from Miss Trilby. It was delivered by messenger ten minutes ago."

Richard made a grimace. Probably some other last minute idea of Ellen's, something for him to wear at the wedding. He ripped open the parcel to find two smaller boxes and a letter inside. He opened the larger box, and to his surprise, he found the gold and sapphire necklace, his engagement gift. His addled brain did not grasp the meaning of this and he opened the second box. The sapphire ring he had had the jeweller made for her to match the necklace was in it. A nagging worry grasped him and he ripped open the envelope. The letter was in Ellen's handwriting, and he saw three spots were water must have fallen on it.

"Milord Lambert," he read. 'Strange, why does she address me that way?'

"the events of last night have finally convinced me that I cannot be your wife. I have informed my parents and yours of my decision and the reasons for it. Furthermore, I hereby return your gifts, so that you can return the necklace to your grandmother, for her to keep until such a time when you will find a woman who is more tolerant of an unfaithful husband.

Ellen"

"Oldroyd, my clothes! No time to shave! Be quick about it, damn you!"

Richard jumped from the bed and had to sit down again. The room spun around him. With the help of his servant, he was able to dress more or less properly while Oldroyd saw to it that the coach was ready. Once dressed, Richard ran down the stairs. His grandmother was standing in the hallway, an accusing look on her face.

"You know already?" he asked.

"Of course. Ellen wrote me, too. How could you ever do this, Richard?"

"I was drunk," he tried to defend himself, the cheap excuse sounding false even in his own ears.

"Then don't drink. Where are you going?"

"To Ellen, of course. I must bring her to reason. I shall be back later to dress for the wedding."

Lady Lambert rose her brows.

"Well, Richard, good luck!"

His grandmother's last words nagged on his mind during the coach ride. What did she mean by that? Did he need luck? Ellen surely would not forego the wedding she had been planning towards for over a year, would she?

Richard arrived at the Wilkes' house and knocked. It was Lucy who opened, and her gaze was hard as stone.

"Yes, Richard?"

"I must talk to Ellen. She is out of her mind. She wants to cancel the wedding."

"I know, and I agree that she is out of her mind. Not that I blame her after what you did."

"Let me talk to her, please. I'm sure we can still save the wedding."

Lucy sighed. Personally, she held no hope in that regard.

"Wait, I shall ask her."

She was back in short time and motioned for him to follow her. She led him to Ellen's room and opened the door. Ellen was sitting at the window, her back to him. Lucy closed the door behind him, and Richard walked over to Ellen, touching her shoulders. He jumped back when she shook free of him.

"Do not touch me!" she hissed with venom in her voice. "You reek of spirits and of perfume. Did you not even have the decency to wash off the residues from that whore before you came here?"

'Oh god, what does she know?' Richard thought.

"I came here as soon as I received your parcel and letter. Come on, Ellen, you do not want to cancel the wedding, do you? This is our day."

"There is no 'us' anymore! When I saw you with that whore on your arm, 'us' ceased to exist."

"You saw me?" Richard asked, shocked now.

"Marjorie Binnings made sure to let me know where you went. Oh, didn't you know that James Taylor is her nephew?" she added with sarcasm. "She set the trap, and you obligingly stepped into it. I hope it was worth it."

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Marjorie Binnings finally had her revenge. Once more, he had fallen for the goading of a false friend. First the Tremonts, and now Taylor. A thought came to his mind.

"Don't you realise that they goaded me into this situation."

"Of course I know that. You could have said 'no', couldn't you?"

"I was drunk," Richard started his excuse, but he was cut off by Ellen.

"Some excuse. How could I live with a husband whose fidelity does not survive a glass of wine?"

"Ellen, this is a custom. The friends of a groom give him a farewell party. A last party before he is tied down in marriage."

Richard knew it was stupid before the last word had left his mouth. Ellen exploded.

"Tied down? That is precious! Myself, I had been looking forward to being married to you, and I assumed that you felt the same. Obviously, that was my mistake. I would never want to tie you down, though. You are free."

"Come on, Ellen, we can still work this out. The guests have all arrived. What can we tell them?"

"Are you out of your mind, Richard? Do you honestly believe that I would hold nuptials with you, hours after you left the bed of a whore? I have more self respect than that!"

"Ellen how can you be so cold and unforgiving? We love each other, don't we?"

He sounded like a whining child, even in his own ears.

"Cold?" Ellen choked. With brimming eyes she looked at him. "I wept my eyes out of their sockets the whole night while you lay comfortably in the arms of that... that woman! Unforgiving? When did you ever ask forgiveness of me? You didn't. You expect me to accept your cheating, and I can never do that. How can I forgive you, if you do not even admit to any wrongdoing? That is not all. For weeks and months, you hardly acknowledged my existence. You were too busy being your lordship with good friends like Taylor. We have been growing apart ever since your grandfather died, and it became worse after you inherited that cursed title. You have acted as if you had second thoughts about our marriage."

"Well, who wouldn't?" Richard responded hotly, prickled by the nagging guilt he felt. "This is not the most advantageous option I can have. I have turned down quite a few offers, with substantial dowries. Yet, I considered our engagement binding."

Ellen turned white as a ghost. The voice she spoke with was flat and lacking of any feeling.

"Please, just leave me now. We said all there is to say and more."

"If this is how you feel, I shall leave. I shall tell the guests that you changed your mind."

Ellen laughed darkly.

"Don't worry. If I know Binnings, the story is already all over London."

Somehow, Richard knew she was right.

-------

Later that morning, Eleanor showed up. Lucy was angered.

"Now he is sending you? Do you want to hurt her even more?"

Eleanor was near tears anyway, and Lucy's words were the last straw.

"How can you think that?" she sobbed accusingly. "I thought you knew me better. I came as Ellen's friend, to console her. I don't care about Richard. He does not deserve her."

She pushed Lucy to the side and ran up the stairs. Lucy considered running after her. After al, this was her house, and people did not push her aside. But Eleanor knocked on Ellen's door already.

"Who is it?"

Eleanor hardly recognised her friend's voice.

"It's me, Eleanor. I came as soon as I heard. May I come in, please?"

The door opened, and Eleanor was shocked. Ellen was almost unrecognisable. Her eyes were red and puffy, her lips parched, and her hair in a tangled disarray. Eleanor could not stop her own tears which rolled down her cheeks.

"Oh Ellen, I am so sorry," she said, opening her arms.

With a choked cry, Ellen flew into her friend's arms. The racking sobs tore Eleanor's heart apart. Crooning soothingly, she led Ellen to a chaise longue and sat her down. Her own voice only a hoarse whisper, she repeated her words over and over: "I'm so sorry, Ellen."

It took a long time for Ellen to calm down. When her sobbing subsided, Eleanor stood up and retrieved a wash cloth from a basin and washed Ellen face with cold water. Ellen looked at her gratefully.

"You are a darling, Eleanor. You should not be here, though. I don't want you to get in trouble with your family."

"Are you out of your mind, Ellen? Mother would have come herself, but she is too busy to control the damage tonight. She will come in a few days. She asked me to tell you that she understands you. Father has given Richard a full dressing down, Lord Lambert or not."

That was a mild understatement, Eleanor thought. Sir Anthony had been furious at his only son. When Richard claimed once more that it had just been a customary bachelor's party, he had gripped his son's lapels and shook him.

'Look at me, Richard! Did you ever hear that I spent the eve of my wedding in a whore house? No? Do you know how I spent it? Sleeping! So that I'd be rested for the following day and for your mother. A farewell to bachelorhood? Bachelorhood be damned! I wanted nothing more than to finally be with your mother. Tell me, son, what is so dreadful about marrying the finest girl London has to offer? So dreadful, that you have to get drunk?'

Coming back to the present, she remembered something.

"And my grandmother sends her regards. She says, you were within your right, refusing the wedding."

"Are you telling me the truth, Eleanor?"

"I promise, Ellen. Nobody thinks badly of you."

"Then how come I feel so miserable?"

"Ellen, I cannot imagine how much you must hurt right now."

"And I don't want you to ever know, darling."

"Listen, I need to go now, and you must rest. I shall visit you tomorrow."

She kissed Ellen once more on her forehead and hugged her.

After her friend was gone, Ellen stiffened her back and stood up from her chair. No, she would not break down over this. This was not her fault. She could not help it if Richard did not love her enough to withstand simple temptations.

At the same time, something else manifested itself in Ellen Trilby's mind: an all-consuming hatred for Marjorie Binnings. This time, Ellen swore to herself, she would have revenge. For this, Marjorie Binnings would pay dearly. She would have to be cunning for that, she knew, and she would have to be patient. But she was resolved that one day, she would triumph over a destroyed enemy.

She looked at her image in the mirror and laughed a hard, joyless laugh. Better to have lust for revenge than to have no feelings at all. With a wet cloth, she cooled her eyes some more until the redness and the swelling were gone. Then she brushed her hair, dressed in a fresh blouse and skirt, and went to join a surprised Lucy and Jonathan for dinner.

-------

"I don't know what Eleanor did, but after she left, Ellen came down to dinner as calm and as controlled as you and me."

Lucy and Harriet had met to talk about things. It was true that Harriet did not blame Ellen for anything, but that did not mean that she was happy about the development.

"You don't suppose she plans something desperate?"

"No, I asked her, you know. She told me not to worry. She does not feel guilty. And she seems to have found resolve. I just do not know what for."

"Do you think I can talk to her? I want to tell her that I feel no ill will towards her."

"I think she would like that. What about Richard? How does he feel?"

"Rotten. According to my mother, he has not been out of bed for three days. She has locked away the wine and spirits, so he must be sober. I will drop in later today and get him out of bed. He has to do his duty. The Lords are in session, and he has to appear tomorrow."

The meeting between Ellen and Harriet was strained in the beginning, both were at a loss of what to say. Ellen knew that Harriet was angry and disappointed at her son, and she did not want to twist the knife even more. The situation was bad enough for both families, and she considered Harriet her friend. In the end, Harriet just opened her arms and hugged the girl. Ellen hugged her back, and they both wept silently until Harriet let go of her and left.

-------

When Harriet arrived at her mother's house, as she still called it, Richard was up. Lady Lambert had decided that her grandson had slept enough, and she had told him in no uncertain terms that he had to face the world as it was, meaning without Ellen.

"You have made a mess out of your engagement. I cannot say that I appreciate your behaviour, but since it happened, you have to face the consequences. You can blame yourself as much as you want, but you cannot change anything. Therefore, you must continue your life and do your duty. The Lords will be in session tomorrow, and you better get up and look up the items on the list."

"Oh wonderful, grandmother. They will all have a great laugh when I show my face."

"I don't think so. Most of your peers will be perfectly happy that they are not in your shoes. Some of them have been there, no doubt, and they will sympathise with you. That's the way men are, unfortunately."

He became apprehensive again when his mother was announced, but Harriet was calm and determined not to start a fresh argument. In effect, she repeated what he had already heard from his grandmother, and he realised they were both right. He had to face the music.

While he was contemplating how the next days and weeks would go, he suddenly realised that a part of his mind was working in an entirely different direction: bitter revenge on the woman who had twice tried to destroy his life, and who had succeeded with the second attempt.

He kept these new thoughts secret, though. He would execute his retribution with a great deal of patience. 'Revenge is a dish that is best served cold.' had been a saying of his grandfather Richard would bide his time until he could inflict a maximum of pain and devastation on Marjorie Binnings.

Harriet looked at her son. She was intrigued. He had been devastated, and now he seemed to have gained some strength. He almost showed a peaceful, almost satisfied smile.

"Richard, what is it?"

"Nothing, Mother, just something that came to my mind. Something I plan to do in the future."

"Richard, there is something you should do. I suggest you write a letter to Ellen and apologise for what you did."

"What for, Mother?" Richard asked, taken aback. "She made it clear that she will never have me back. I would have never thought that she could be so... unforgiving."

"Richard, did you ask for forgiveness?"

"Err, no, not really. I tried to explain what had happened, that is was just a custom and that it did not mean anything."

"Richard," Harriet said in an exasperated tone, "I promised myself that I would not get angry with you today, but you are making this quite difficult for me. You cheat on your bride on the eve of your wedding, and you tell her, what, 'Sorry darling, but everybody does it'? Have you an idea how much you hurt the girl when she saw you in the arms of another woman?"

"It was not my fault that she had to see it. Binnings tipped her off."

"Richard, it was your fault. This would have never happened if you had spent that evening with real friends. Or if you had simply refused to go to that place. Tell me Richard, did you honestly love Ellen? I am asking you this because your actions speak differently."

Now the hurt in Richard's eyes was back, and he struggled to find words.

"How can you ask that, Mother? I would gladly give my right arm to make that evening undone. I look into the mirror, and I despise myself for what I did. I can't breathe when the realisation hits me that I lost her."

"Why didn't you tell her that, Richard," Harriet asked softly, "instead of justifying the inexcusable? Ellen is a kind and generous girl, as you know from experience. She would have forgiven you. Well, maybe not immediately, but how could she if you just did not ask?"

"Do you honestly think that there was a chance, mother?"

"As long as neither of you is married to another person, there is still a chance. This will take time and a serious effort on your part. And for that, you must first decide for yourself if you are willing to do everything in your power to win her back. For that, however, you need to concentrate on your duties. You have to regain your balance and your values. Don't dally with any other women if you ever want to win Ellen back. In the meantime, your sister and I will maintain the contact with her."

-------

While Harriet talked to Richard, old Lady Lambert took her coach to the Wilkes' residence. Although she had known Lucy for a long time, she had never visited them at their home. It was a matter of social standing. Today, however, Eleanor Lambert did not care about petty issues. The future happiness of her grandson was at stake, and there was also the strong bond she felt towards Ellen. Deep in her heart, the old woman knew how much they all needed Ellen.

To say Lucy was astonished to see Lady Lambert at her door would have been an understatement.

"Lady Lambert, to what do I owe this unexpected honour?"

"I felt I owed it to Ellen to come and visit her. After all she did for my family during our past trials, I for one know what her help meant for me."

"You will not try to talk her into a reconciliation with Richard."

Eleanor Lambert snorted derisively.

"If Ellen were to forgive the insult she suffered that easily, I could never accept her as my grandson's wife. No, I want to convey my sympathy and support, and I want to give her something to express my friendship."

"Oh well, so be it. She is in the living room. I will show you. Do you prefer to be alone with her?"

"I would love that." Lady Lambert answered. A thought struck her. "Lucy, how my son could ever give up on you, has always been beyond my comprehension. I would have really liked you to have become my daughter-in-law."

"That is very nice of you to say, but all things considered, we were not meant for each other."

"That is what I regret, Lucy," Lady Lambert sighed while she entered the living room.

Ellen was sitting at a table, doing some needle work, but she looked up when Lady Lambert entered. A series of emotions showed in her face, surprise, apprehension, and finally delight. She jumped up from her seat and hugged her visitor.

"Thank you for visiting. This is so thoughtful of you."

"Are you quite all right, child?" Lady Lambert asked, enforcing the question with one of her 'don't-lie-to-me' looks.

"I would be lying if I claimed to be happy, but I have overcome the worst."

"That is a relieve to me, Ellen. First, let me say that no fault attaches to you in this deplorable affair. This has been Richard's wrongdoing, with some help from Marjorie Binnings, of course."

Ellen's beautiful blue eyes became icy at the mention of that name.

"Don't tell anybody, please, but I shall make her pay for this, and it will not be pretty to see."

"Ellen, don't do anything rash. That woman is a master manipulator, and you might set yourself up for an even more hurtful fall. She will retaliate, whatever you do to her."

Ellen shook her head.

"Lady Lambert, I am not talking of some petty prank. I shall destroy her, one way or another, and that will be the end of her scheming. I know I am smarter than her, and I have all the time in the world to accomplish my revenge. Enough of her already! I hope this unfortunate business will do nothing to disturb Eleanor's plans?"

The warmth had returned to Ellen's eyes. The change was dramatic, and Eleanor Lambert realised that the naive girl she had come to know was gone forever. The new Ellen could hate and love with equal intensity, and in her former disposition, she was quite frightening.

"I have not talked to Eleanor, but Harriet never mentioned any changes. God forbid that Antonio did something stupid, too! But he should return from Colombia soon. He was gone for the best part of a year."

"Poor Eleanor! At least she need not worry about his fidelity. In a way, Antonio is more mature than Richard. I suppose, Richard needs to prove himself somehow, that is why he is insecure and easily manipulated. Antonio has known responsibility for years, and his self confidence is stronger."

The non-vindictive, almost casual tone in which Ellen discussed Richard's character, surprised Lady Lambert even more.

"Ellen, if I may say so, you have really grown up over the last year. Will you forgive an old woman if she expressed her fervent hope that you and Richard will reconcile one day?"

Ellen swallowed hard and blinked away a tear. She answered in a small, hoarse voice.

"I don't know if that will ever be possible. I cannot love a man who is putty in the hands of everybody who slaps his back and calls him 'old boy'. Perhaps he will still grow up, who knows."

"Thank you for giving me hope," Eleanor Lambert said, putting a hand on Ellen's arm.

"Did I?" Ellen asked, and the old woman nodded.

"There is another thing." She opened her purse and extracted a box. Ellen knew that box, and she braced herself. "Why did you return this, Ellen? I wanted you to have it."

"It did not seem right for me to hold on to a present that had been given in a different situation."

"Ellen, this was my present to you, to convey my appreciation for you. My appreciation has not changed, and I beg you to take this necklace back."

Ellen nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of that. If you still want me to wear it, I thank you again for your gift and for your friendship."

Lady Lambert smiled. "Of course I want you to wear it. Another thing, Ellen, I have grown accustomed to your visits. Richard is hardly at home in the afternoons. Could you visit me for tea some times?"

There was a warm smile on Ellen's face when she hugged the old woman.

"I certainly will. I am not afraid of seeing Richard."

"Of course, you are not, Ellen. He is, however."

-------

Over the next weeks and months, Ellen gradually healed, at least outwardly. However, she adopted a low profile. She rarely, if ever, went out, and if she did, it was to help Lucy with her various charities. She even grew to like that work, writing letters to sponsors, and allocating funds for the different purposes. When Lucy came down hard with a cold, Ellen took over the household and the organisation. For four weeks, the young woman balanced the egos of the rich and prominent sponsors during the funding drive for the charity hospital. She was even able to persuade new benefactors to contribute, and in the end, the sum of the donations was the second-highest ever. Most importantly, the base of contributors was broadened, giving the charity a more solid footing.

Lucy had recovered from her bout with the disease, and she proudly told her friend Harriet how Ellen had carried the flag and had come short of Lucy's own best result by only £55. That bit was overheard by Richard, who had been home to discuss a business issue with his father. He hesitated only briefly before he wrote a check over £100 and sent it by messenger, care of the hospital charity.

What he did not know was that the major contributors would be invited to a dinner, and he was shocked to receive an invitation a few days later. He debated with himself for days whether he should attend. In the end, he asked his mother for advice. He had not seen Ellen in over half a year, and he was afraid that she might spurn his donation.

"That was a rather ham fisted approach, Richard, but since you donated, you may just as well go. Your father and I will attend as well, and you can join us. For heaven's sake, how can you hope to win her back if you never see her?"

The evening came, and Richard accompanied his parents to the reception. Lucy was at the entrance, greeting the dinner guests, and she acknowledged him coolly. The first part of the evening went fine, from Richard's point of view, since he sat unobtrusively at his parent's table, unnoticed by Ellen, as far as he could tell. Then, Jonathan Wilkes took the stage.

"My Ladies and Gentlemen, dear benefactors, dear colleagues. This year's charity drive has yielded a truly excellent result. As a matter of fact, and due to a single last minute contribution, we have exceeded our previous best result by over 40 pounds! This means a lot to the needy people who come to us for a cure to their ailments. It also supports the development of new techniques and therapies which will ultimately benefit all of us. Like every year, I want to express my gratitude to my dear wife, Lucy, who works tirelessly for our common goals. This year, however, I must acknowledge my daughter Ellen as well. As you know, she took over when my wife fell ill, and the result is good testimony to her enthusiasm and abilities, as well as to your generosity. Please, Ellen, come up here!"

This was not planned. Ellen blushed furiously while she walked on the stage and the guests applauded her.

"I want to thank you all for your generosity and the tolerance with which you helped me fill those rather big shoes. Thank you all, from my heart!"

She wanted to step down again, but she was halted by her stepfather.

"No, you're not," he laughed. "You are to read the names of the largest contributors."

He handed her the list without looking. In fact, he had not looked at all, lest he would have spared her this.

Ellen cleared her throat.

"The largest contribution this year, as every year, is from Lady Annabelle Wheeler!"

Lady Annabelle stood to the polite applause of the other guests.

"The number two this year is Sir Robert Norton!"

Sir Robert stood, and received the applause.

Ellen's gaze returned to the paper and she paled. With a choked voice, she continued.

"The third largest contribution came from Lord Lambert."

If Ellen had turned pale, Richard's face became beet red. Harriet prodded him to stand up, but he sat down as quickly as he could. He groaned inwardly. Now she knew he was here.

Ellen, in the meantime, had been able to flee the stage. She sat with Lucy, trying to regain her composure.

"That must have been the last contribution, after you turned the checks over to the trustees," she whispered to Ellen.

"Why did he do that?" Ellen asked, dumbfounded.

"I think I know why, Ellen, but you may not like it. I was with Harriet last week, and I guess I bragged about you and the way you filled in for me. I think I mentioned that you were only fifty pounds behind my best result ever. I guess, Richard overheard me, he was with his father that day, and he decided to help you bring in the best result ever."

"Why would he do that?"

"To make you happy, I suppose. It was a bit clumsy, but nevertheless well meant."

In spite of herself, Ellen had to smile. Lucy was right. This was typical for Richard, she thought affectionally. Then she started. Did this work on her? Did she really fall for this boyish effort at pleasing her? She shook her head and sighed.

"Even so, I have to thank him in person. I did with the other major contributors."

Ellen rose from the table and walked to back of the room where the Carters sat. Richard saw her coming and had to suppress an urge to run.

"I have not had a chance to thank you for your contribution, Lord Lambert. You were most generous."

He looked at her sadly. "Is my first name so hateful to you?"

Ellen bit her lip. She had not meant to hurt him, but she did not know how to address him properly. They were not engaged anymore, they had not talked in half a year, and she had feared to annoy him by addressing him with his first name.

"No, it isn't, Richard," she said softly. "I just did not know."

"Would you sit for a moment?" Richard asked, surprised at his own bravery.

Ellen nodded, and he jumped up to hold her chair while she sat.

"Why, Anthony, I think the music started in the other room. You promised me to dance. Ellen, Richard, I hope you don't mind. I have preciously few opportunities to dance with my husband."

The Carters left the table, leaving Richard and Ellen alone.

"Thank you for staying, Ellen. There is so much I need to tell you, and I don't know where to start."

"You could start by telling me why you gave money to the hospital."

"Oh that. Listen, I did not know that this would be the third-largest contribution. I... I overheard Lucy the other day when she told my mother how you nearly topped her own best result, and I wanted you to have the best result, and so I wrote the check. Did it embarrass you? I did not mean to embarrass you."

"Yes, it embarrassed me," Ellen admitted, but a smile crept onto her lips. "You should have told me. Even so, your donation alone will keep the hospital running for almost two months. You have done a lot of good, and this more than offsets my embarrassment. You may feel free to embarrass me every year."

Dear god, how he loved that smile! He must have grinned like an idiot, and Ellen gave him a wistful smile in return.

"Richard," she said softly, "you cannot buy back my affection, you know that? I think it was sweet of you to make that donation, but there are still some weighty issues between us."

Richard nodded. "Ellen, believe me, I know that. I only wanted you to feel good, in my clumsy way. I am working hard on myself to become a better person. I cannot stop hoping that you will forgive me one day."

"Richard, you are a good person. Your problem is that you want to please everybody. Even those who try to destroy you. You need to become stronger, not better."

"I know, first the Tremont brothers, then James Taylor, I always fall for that."

"Don't I know that. Remember, I fell for Finney and Binnings," Ellen said sagely.

She was surprised at the hatred that shot into Richard's eyes, and her own eyes became icy in turn.

"Have I touched a raw nerve, Richard?"

He nodded, steely determination in his eyes.

"I shall make Binnings pay for both of us, never worry."

"Let me know if you need my help with that! I mean it. I crave revenge on that woman. She must not win."

Richard nodded slowly. This was unexpected. He had planned on taking Binnings on all by himself. To have an ally in Ellen could be a decisive advantage.

"Then we mustn't display signs of reconciliation, Ellen," he said calmly, looking into her eyes. "She must think that we hate each other."

Ellen nodded slowly and touched his hand with an affectionate gesture. Then she stood up abruptly, toppling her chair.

"I should have known it to be hopeless. You are incorrigible!" she hissed at him.

"Have it your own way, Ellen," Richard replied coldly. "My regards to your parents!"

Ellen turned and stormed back to her own table. There was some murmur around them, and Richard knew that Marjorie Binnings would know about this very soon. When his parents returned to the table they were concerned.

"Couldn't you be more agreeable, Richard?" his mother scolded him. She was disturbed when she saw the grim smile on his lips.

"Ellen and I have agreed to disagree, Mother," he said, and for the first time in half a year, Harriet heard her son laugh.



-------

Chapter 20: The Sting



It was a week after the charity ball, and Sir Anthony Carter was sitting in his chair, perusing the Naval Gazette, when he stumbled over a small article.

Bolivian Merchantman Lost

On Sept. 15, the Rosemary schooner, out of Falmouth, after having weathered a severe cyclone, and standing one-hundred miles north-east of Barbados, came to sight a small boat, carrying the survivors of a ship wreck. The rescued sailors and passengers reported the brig Estrella del Sur to have sprung a leak in the heavy storm. They also reported of a second boat with other sailors and passengers, but this boat could not be found by the Rosemary's crew. Of note is the fact that one of the missing passengers is His Excellency, Don Antonio Ruiz de Costa, Bolivian ambassador in London. It is to be hoped that the second boat met with another ship or somehow reached land.

"What is it, Tony?"

Harriet had entered the study unnoticed by him, and she had seen his paleness. She saw his grave expression and knew something terrible had happened.

"The ship Antonio was sailing back in, the Estrella del Sur, sank in a hurricane. One boat with survivors was recovered, but Antonio was in another boat that has not been found yet." He swallowed heavily. "We must tell Eleanor and Maria."

Harriet sat down heavily, desperation washing over her.

"Is there a curse on us? Why can't we and our children be happy?"

"Harriet, we need to be strong and encouraging! He may still be found. Eleanor and Maria need us now, but we must give them hope."

Harriet looked at her husband doubtfully.

"Do you really think there is hope?"

"Absolutely! If one boat with survivors made it through the storm, there is a good chance for the second boat. There is much traffic in that region, and the second boat may have met a southbound ship."

They both went up to Eleanor's room. Harriet made Eleanor sit down on her bed and sat beside her, holding her shoulders. Sir Anthony saw the pain in his daughter's eyes when she grasped the meaning of all this, and her lips began to tremble.

With a calm voice, he related the news to his daughter. To his surprise, Eleanor showed relief.

"Oh my god, father, but for a moment, I thought Antonio was dead!"

"Eleanor, dear, they have not found him. He may have perished," Harriet started cautiously.

"No, he is alive," Eleanor said with finality. "I know he is alive, and I refuse to believe otherwise. He will come back to me. Father, there is hope, isn't there?"

For his life, Sir Anthony would not have destroyed his daughter's hope, and he had seen enough unexpected things on the seas.

"There is hope, Eleanor, yes. The boat crew may have been rescued by another ship. Even so, we need to tell Antonio's mother. Will you come with us?"

Eleanor took a deep breath. "Yes, let me change, though."

Anthony and Harriet were surprised to see their daughter walk down the stairs in a burgundy red dress, but they said nothing. The coach brought them to the Ruiz' house where Donna Maria was surprised to see them. She had a momentary lapse of strength, but recovered quickly. Glancing at Eleanor, she asked.

"You believe Antonio is alive?"

Eleanor answered with a firm "Yes.", and the older woman nodded.

"We shall wait for him to return. Could you stay with me for a little while longer, Eleanor?"

Eleanor stepped forward and put her hand on the older woman's arm.

"Of course, Mother," she said simply. Then she turned to her parents. "We are fine. Can you send back the coach around five? Doña Maria and I will spend some time together."

The Carters left, fervently hoping that their daughter's hopes would not be disappointed. Over the next hours, Maria Ruiz and Eleanor Carter closed a pact of mutual support. It was Eleanor's calm conviction that kept up Maria's hope. Even when weeks and months went by without news, Eleanor visited her future mother in law daily, refusing to wear dark colours, let alone black, refusing the suggestions by others that her hope might be in vain. She received support by her father and by her brother Richard. One evening, when her fears nearly overwhelmed her, Richard sat with her and gave her encouragement.

"Eleanor, there is hope. Look at me! I still hope that Ellen will forgive me one day, and believe me, those chances are much slimmer than Antonio's. Don't give up."

In spite of herself, Eleanor had to smile at his words. She spoke to Ellen regularly, and she knew that her friend secretly still loved Richard, albeit without admitting it even to herself.

What was really bad was that several suitors showed up. So-called friends tried to convince her that she should give up on Antonio Ruiz and find herself a new fiancé. It embittered her greatly that people would think she could give up her hopes and love and just move on to the next contender.

Doña Maria knew about all this, and she developed a true affection for the girl. If ever Antonio should return to the living, she would tell him of Eleanor's unwavering love and commitment. The days trickled by, though, becoming weeks and months, without any news from Antonio Ruiz.

-------

A half year after his last meeting with Ellen, Richard Carter, 3rd Baron Lambert, arrived at his work place at the Foreign Office at a quarter to nine. The work he did, assessing the numerous new nations in Spanish South America, and the possibilities for British trade, was interesting and in line with his previous training and his interest. He authored briefs and reports for the Secretary, and sometimes we was even asked to present the results of his research to select cabinet members. He had joined the Foreign Office nine months ago as a protégé of Lord Brougham when there had been no opening in the Trade Ministry, his original preference. Nevertheless, he soon appreciated his appointment for more than one reason.

For his immediate superior, Sir Gilbert Hume, was, as all London knew, the current love interest of one Marjorie Binnings. Hume was a harmless type, although, on Binnings' instigation, he tried to terrorise his subordinate. He just was not that effective. The most serious diatribe somehow lost its effect when the superior official had to address his subordinate deferentially as 'milord' or 'your lordship'.

Hume hardly ever showed before lunch time, and Richard had the run of the department in the mornings. Most of the time, he was done with his work and gone before Hume could harass him. Two months ago, Richard had also begun to pick and collect documents from Hume's desk. Never really important ones lest he caused alarm. In a steady trickle, official Foreign Office documents in Sir Gilbert's care continued to disappear, and people upstairs began to notice.

On this particular day, Sir Gilbert appeared at the office at ten o'clock, and the staff was alarmed. When he asked for Lord Lambert to come to his office, everybody, including Richard, expected another meaningless reprimand. The people in the office chuckled and wished Richard luck while he hurried to Hume's office. They appreciated the pleasant young man who worked with tireless energy and surprising skill.

When he entered Hume's office, Richard was surprised at the friendly reception.

"Oh, thank you for coming, milord. Listen, we have had some run-ins in the last months, but I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your efforts on the whole."

"Thank you, Sir Gilbert," Richard answered drily, comprehension dawning.

"I'll be having a dinner party at my house on Friday. Would you care to come?"

"That is exceedingly kind of you, Sir Gilbert. Of course, I shall attend."

"Jolly good! Now, where are we with that report on Mexico?"

Patiently, Richard explained to his superior the current situation on the Spanish Main and the implications on the Mexico trade. A half hour later, when he emerged from Hume's office, he could not help but grin. Binnings had taken the bait.

Two weeks ago, he had sent a short letter to Ellen, through his grandmother. In response to that letter, Ellen had attended a function to which Sir Gilbert Hume had also gone. For three hours, Ellen had flirted mercilessly with Sir Gilbert, until Marjorie Binnings, doubtlessly alarmed by some informer, had appeared and dragged Hume away from Ellen.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir Gilbert, I did not know you preferred elderly women," had been Ellen's parting shot.

No wonder Binnings wanted to be on his good side now. She obviously planned a revenge against Ellen, and since it was known how Richard and Ellen detested each other these days, Richard appeared to be a natural tool for her retribution. Or so she thought.

In his office, Richard surveyed the documents in his care. There was a draft for a commerce treaty with Bolivia, which if leaked to the public, would cause serious difficulties with Spain. He contemplated for a minute. Was his revenge worth this risk? But then he remembered the ham fisted reconciliation attempt by Hume, and he smiled grimly. Besides, Ellen had exposed herself already, and he could not betray her in this. He set the draft aside for Friday.

When he came home that evening, Richard had a lengthy conversation with his grandmother which left the old woman thoughtful. The next afternoon, Ellen Trilby visited with Lady Lambert, like she did every Wednesday. They sat, drinking tea and eating cookies, when Lady Lambert cut the idle chatter short.

"Ellen, the final stage is close. Richard needs your help."

Ellen took a deep breath. She did not know Richard's plan, for he refused to tell her. If this went wrong, he maintained, he wanted to keep her out of it.

"What does he need?"

Lady Lambert smiled sardonically.

"You must write him a love letter."

Ellen choked on her tea. She looked at the old woman incredulously and, with a chuckle, Lady Lambert explained.

-------

Nobody would have recognised him in his disguise. The heavy walrus moustache and the bushy eyebrows made him look like a man at least ten years older. The disguise was courtesy of Anita Heyworth. The woman he was about to meet was a key to his plan. In fact, he had not begun any serious planning before he had met her again by chance. Her name was Charlene Beckham, and she was a whore. She was a whore in trouble. She also was the whore Richard had spent that fateful night with. That was why she had known him and asked for his help. That was also why met her in disguise, lest Ellen heard of him meeting a loose woman.

Four months ago, Charlene had been with customer, a very uncouth person. Charlene, not accustomed to rough treatment, threw the money back at the man and bade him leave. That did not sit well with him, and he threw her on the bed and proceeded to take her with force. The girl did not know how to help herself other than grab a hidden knife and stab her assailant. Now he was dead. When the landlord came up to the room, he almost had a stroke. The man was one Tim Cook, brother of Jeremiah Cook, the leader of one of London's most notorious gangs. Realising the danger she was in, Charlene fled the whorehouse the same night. The house burned down the very next evening, and the word was out on the streets of London that Jeremiah Cook wanted Charlene Beckham.

In her desperation, she had waylaid Richard's coach and begged him for help. Richard was terrified that Ellen might find out that he sheltered this girl, but he recognised her value when she confessed that she had been a pick pocket in her youth. He stashed her away with John Little's family. The Littles liked him like their own son, and Inez Little made sure that his contacts with Charlene involved appropriate clothing on both sides. Today, though, they met in secret, because he did not want to compromise his friends.

If Charlene was nervous she did not show it. If all went well on Friday, she would be out of England and off to a new start in America. All would go well, she was confident. This was her trade, after all.

"Are you set with the butler?" Richard asked.

Charlene nodded and giggled. "Am I ever. 'e's all crazy about me. 'e said the coast is to be clear on Friday! What about that sleeping draught?"

He handed her a small bottle, from Lucy Wilkes' stores, and courtesy of Ellen.

"And them papers?"

"Will be on the coach that brings you to the rendezvous."

" No trust, eh?" Charlene asked with a mock pout, and Richard chuckled.

"Not more than necessary. So, are we all set? Splendid! If those papers are retrieved where I expect them to be, you will be taken to Plymouth on Saturday. You will travel to Boston in your own, private cabin. Kindly refrain from stealing from your fellow travellers, the captain will keep an eye on you. You will also receive your one-hundred American Dollars, as agreed, and another three-hundred in Boston at the office of the shipping line. I will not see you again, Charlene, but I wish you all the luck. Try to stay honest, will you."

Charlene nodded. "I will. I'm grateful for this chance, milord, I really am. 'ave you practised your moves like I teach you?"

"Every free minute," Richard answered.

"Remember to look annoyed-like when you drop the letter."

"I will. Farewell, Charlene!"

"Farewell. Milord, I hope you can get your fiancé back. I really feel bad about my part in this."

"You should not, Charlene. Bonne chance!"

-------

Friday afternoon, Richard was still very busy. He had seen to this. Around four o'clock, Sir Gilbert stuck his head through Richard's door.

"You still plan to come, milord?"

"Yes, yes," Richard replied eagerly. "I only need to finish on that report. I will work on the treaty over the weekend."

"Splendid, splendid. I shall see you then."

At a quarter past eight, a very ruffled looking Lord Lambert arrived at the residence of Sir Gilbert Hume. As expected, Sir Gilbert was at the entrance to greet him, as was Marjorie Binnings. This was good because he could start the little charade right away.

"I'm awfully sorry for the delay, Sir Gilbert, but we had to redo parts of the report. There were some grievous spelling errors in it, and you know how the Secretary feels about that."

"Calm down, calm down, milord," Sir Gilbert laughed, obviously in good humour. "Why don't you take off that cloak and make yourself comfortable?"

Richard did, and an envelope dropped to the floor, right in front of Marjorie Binnings. The letter in it had fallen out as well. Richard seemingly did not notice this and Marjorie Binnings looked at the letter with moderate interest. Then she became alert. She knew that handwriting! Looking carefully, she could decipher the first lines:

"My dearest Richard,

I beg of you to meet me once more to resolve the issues between us. You have not spoken..."

The letter was picked up. With a seemingly embarrassed smile, Richard stuffed the envelope back into his breast pocket, handed his coat to the servant, and followed the valet into the dining room.

A wolfish grin spread over Marjorie's features. That was too precious! That stupid, spineless girl begging the man who had betrayed her. Oh, to throw that into her face at the next opportunity! She would deny it, of course. Wait! Let her deny it and then throw the actual letter into her face! Then she would be really crushed, and she would be so mad at young Lord Lambert! Marjorie needed that letter!

The opportunity arose after the dinner when Richard stood to the side, with a glass of Madeira wine in his hand. Marjorie faked a stumble and fell into him, spilling the wine over his shirt.

"Oh I'm so sorry, milord. Please forgive my clumsiness. Gilbert, dear, you would not have a shirt you can borrow his lordship?"

She steered Richard into an upstairs room and directed him behind a paravent. Smiling, Richard hung his coat on the outside of the paravent and took off the stained shirt. In a moment, Marjorie Binnings was back with a fresh shirt. He noticed it was closed at the bottom, and he had to pull it over his head, blocking his view temporarily. When he had the shirt on, she even helped him with the coat, again apologising profusely.

Richard was seemingly embarrassed by the incident and he made his escape under the pretence that he had to pick up his grandmother at another function. Marjorie Binnings showed him to the door in person, apologising over and over again. She felt ready to burst. She felt tempted to go upstairs and read in her treasure, but people would notice. The whole silly dinner party would end soon anyway, and the anticipation made her giddy.

Almost two hours later, the last guests had left, and Marjorie Binnings prepared to leave.

"You don't really have to leave, do you?" Gilbert Hume pouted, but Marjorie would have nothing of it. She left his house with a spring in her step, and she noticed very late that soldiers were standing around her coach.

"What is this?" she asked sharply.

A uniformed colonel appeared before her.

"Mrs. Marjorie Binnings?"

"Why yes, what is it?"

"Please surrender the envelope that you took from Lord Lambert's coat!"

"That is ridiculous!"

"Madam, you were seen taking that envelope. Please save yourself the embarrassment of a search."

"Oh well, here you have the stupid letter! I hardly think this is a business for the Cold Stream Guards."

The Colonel took the envelope and inspected the papers within. He turned, and, from the shadows, Richard Carter stepped into the light of the coach lantern.

"Is this the document, milord?"

Richard inspected the draft treaty carefully.

"Yes, it is, Colonel. You have prevented great damage to the Crown, thank you."

"We are only doing our duty, milord. Mrs. Binnings, I am afraid you will have to accompany us."

"What for? Lord Lambert has his letter back."

"I must arrest you on the suspicion of high treason, Madam."

Marjorie Binnings shrieked and looked about in panic.

Among the clatter of hooves, another coach arrived. A solemn man in a black cloak emerged.

"Have you secured the document, Colonel?"

"Yes, Sir! The Binnings woman had the document on her person."

"Are those documents complete, Lord Lambert?"

"Yes, Sir, all four pages."

"Any chance they could have been copied?"

"No, Sir, they have not been unfolded. I can tell from the little drop of glue that I put between the folds."

"A good thing you noticed. Did your superior know you had those documents on you?"

"Yes, Sir. I informed him this afternoon that I would work on the treaty over the weekend. That is his house, by the way, Sir Gilbert Hume's."

"Indeed? And this person has been going in and out here? Hume, Hume, right, he has been losing confidential documents over the last months, hasn't he?"

"Not to my knowledge, Sir," Richard replied cautiously.

"No, you would not know, of course. Do you know this person's address?"

"Yes, I have been there once. Nº 12, Oxford Lane."

"Colonel, prepare to search those premises. I shall send a few of our own specialists to conduct the search."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Have that person brought into custody!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Milord, I shall need those documents as evidence. I shall give you a receipt. One of my personal secretaries will prepare a copy tonight so that you can continue to work on that treaty."

"Of course, Sir."

The commotion had been noticed inside Sir Gilbert's house and he came out to enquire.

"Good Lord, Lambert, what are you doing out here? Oh dear god, Marjorie, what happened to you?"

He stepped forward but was stopped in mid-stride by the black man.

"Leave her be, Sir Gilbert!"

"What... Mr. Sunderland! What brings you here in the middle of the night?"

"Your blundering! Haven't you lost several confidential documents over the last months?"

"Why, yes, but I'm quite sure I misplaced them. They will turn up eventually."

"Oh, I'm quite sure they will," Mr. Sunderland replied caustically. "The only question is, on which side of the Channel? How long have you known this woman?"

"Almost a year. She is a good friend and I'm willing to vouch for her."

"Then you might be interested to hear that we found the draft of a treaty on her person, a draft, Lord Lambert has reported as stolen an hour ago."

"Is this true Marjorie?" Hume gasped. "Why would she do that?"

"That is what I am here to find out," Mr. Sunderland replied grimly. "I must ask you to return to your house and to stay in London until further notice. You are not to enter your office until I say otherwise. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir. But what about Marjorie?"

"She is not your concern. She is married after all, isn't she?"

Hume stumbled back into his house, a broken man.

"I hope, Sir Gilbert will not have difficulties, Sir," Richard offered.

"I don't think so. He is just stupid, and there is no law against that. Well, Lord Lambert, I thank you for the alert. At least one person in that department kept his wits about him. Please report to me first thing on Monday morning."

Richard bowed and left. He had no way of knowing whether the rest of his plan had worked out, but it looked good. He knew that he must avoid showing undue curiosity, so he could not watch the search of Marjorie Binnings' house. There was one thing he had to do, however, when he came home. He took the letter Ellen had written and read it to himself. If only that letter were real! Ellen had written very convincingly; this really read like a desperate plea for a reunion. Maybe, he should write a letter of his own with the same wording, he thought, but he pushed the notion away. The next weeks and months would be crucial. He could not afford a stupidity!

He went to the fireplace and stirred the ashes until a flame reappeared. He dropped the letter into the fire and watched it until it was completely destroyed. The he raked the ashes once more.

"How did your plan go?"

His grandmother had entered the room silently.

"You should not have burnt that letter. Ellen and I spent almost two hours on it."

"It was perfect, and it served its purpose. I wish it were real, I really do. But there are more urgent matters that need to be addressed first."

"Yes, but don't wait too long. I am not getting younger."

-------

John Little reported to Richard the next morning. He had watched the Binnings' house unobtrusively. Soldiers and civilians had searched the house for over an hour when suddenly an excited civilian had emerged from the house with a stack of papers. Marjorie Binnings' husband had been led away, and the Guards had been posted around the house. Charlene had got out before the commotion began, around eleven o'clock.

"Please convey her safely to Plymouth and on that ship. Here is her money."

"Inez and the children will miss her," John Little observed. "She is not a bad woman."

"I agree. For reasons you know, she has to leave England, though."

John Little disappeared quietly. Charlene Beckham was indeed brought on board the Eleanor Boswell, bound for Boston, and changed quietly into Miss Annabelle Fourtnoy, a respectable nanny. This was done with the help of a real passport issued by the Foreign Office and a Letter of Recommendation written by one John Little, Esq.

Charlene had changed in the months she had spent with the Little family. For the first time, she saw the workings of an intact family. She witnessed how the children, five of them, were brought up, and she wondered what could have become of herself if she had been taken care of by real parents. Her father, a veteran of the war, was a cripple. What little pension he received was spend on cheap spirits to numb the pain in the stumps that had been his legs. She had never known her mother who had abandoned her crippled husband and her infant daughter. Charlene had been raised by her aunt who worked as a whore.

She knew that she would never work in her old trade again. Living with the Littles, she picked up on the careful English John Little spoke. With a little effort, she could parrot the speech and mannerisms, maybe not of educated people, but at least of the upper class servants. Since there was little else she could do to earn her keep, she had helped Inez Little with her smallest children, and her thoughts began to lean in the direction of becoming a nanny. In this she was encouraged by a newspaper article that Abigail Little, the oldest daughter, had read to her. In it, the writer reported of the high demand for English nannies in New England.

Thus, Charlene Beckham planned to offer her services as a nanny once she arrived in Boston.

Before she left England forever, Charlene decided to right some wrongs she had committed and which weighed on her soul. On the eve of her departure, she posted a letter to one Ellen Trilby, a letter that had taken her long to write for she was not a studied person. The Little children had taught her to read and write, but it was a major effort for her.

Four days later, while London was still in an uproar over the unmasking of a prominent socialite as a common spy, Ellen Trilby received a letter addressed in clumsy letters. Curiously, she opened it and went into the living room to read it. When Lucy did not hear from her for quite a while, she went into the living room to look for her. What she saw scared her almost to death. Ellen sat on a chair trembling all over. Her face was ghostly pale, and she rocked back and forth with her upper body while her empty eyes stared ahead unseeing. Her mouth was open, mumbling unintelligible words.

Luckily, Lucy did not easily lose her presence of mind. She took Ellen's left arm and led her from the chair to a chaise longue at the window. Ellen curled into a tight ball, while Lucy ran to pick up the letter. It must have been something in that letter, she thought feverishly. Her first thought was 'horrible handwriting', but after the first sentence, she could not stop reading.



'Dear Miss Trilbi, ' the letter started,

'you do not know me but you have seen me one time. My name is Charlene Beckham and you must excuse my writing but I learned it only the other day. I have caused you much grief when I spent the night with your bridegroom. Yes I am the woman that you saw. As I said I caused you grief but I did not mean to, honestly. I always steer clear of married men seeing they are just trouble. Only your bridegroom did not do nothing wrong. That is what you must know. When we went to my room and I took off my dress he just looked at me and next he cried. He said we could not do such a bad thing seeing that he was to marry a wonderful girl the next morning. He gave me some more money and asked me not to tell his stupid friends. He slept some time in my bed because he had drunk too much wine but I stayed on my chair. So you must see that nothing did not happen that night. Maybe you can forgive him now because he really did not do nothing bad.

'Your anonymous friend

'Charlene Beckham'



Lucy looked at the sobbing wreck on the chaise longue and sighed. Would these two people ever be able to avoid these disastrous misunderstandings? It was as if they were cursed to hurt each other unwittingly. Lucy folded the letter carefully and hid it in her bosom. With the help of a maid, she brought Ellen to her room and undressed her. After they had put a sleeping gown on her, the maid left. Lucy sighed, she had seen Ellen like that before and she would come out of that state. Then her eyes wandered up to the hook in the ceiling. Shaking her head, she took four silk stockings and bound Ellen's wrists and ankles to the bed posts.

Watching over her stepdaughter, Lucy contemplated the next steps. Ellen would need some time to get around. Keeping back this information would be unfair to Richard, though. As far as she knew, his sister still did not talk to him, and Harriet was short tempered around him. She had to tell Harriet, and together they could think of the best way. She quickly wrote a billet to Harriet and asked her to come as soon as possible. She must have conveyed the urgency of her request, because Harriet showed up within a half hour.

"Harriet, there is something you need to know. Please come up to Ellen's room."

Curiously, Harriet followed her friend upstairs and into Ellen's bedroom. She gasped in horror when she saw the trembling figure with the empty eyes, her hands and feet tied to the bedposts.

"She has been like that for over three hours, ever since that letter came. Wait, I shall let you read it. You need to know. But please, don't be angry at Ellen. She really couldn't know, and you see how she is."

She pulled the letter from her bosom and handed it to her friend. She watched Harriet go pale. For a moment, Lucy feared that Harriet would go into the same state Ellen was in.

"Can I sit down?" she whispered.

Quickly, Lucy led her to a chair. It took two minutes, but then Harriet had regained her composure.

"Lucy, what have I done to my son? I judged him and did not give him a chance to defend himself."

"Harriet, it would not have mattered. Had Richard known that nothing had happened, he would have maintained his innocence. He was too drunk to remember, and like us, he believed the obvious."

"I can never make up for that," Harriet sighed heavily.

"When should we tell him?" Lucy asked.

Harriet thought about it.

"He should not hear it from either of us. Ellen must tell him, it is her letter to begin with. It was her accusation, too, misled though she was. We shall wait until she is able to show him the letter herself."

-------

Late that evening, Ellen came out of her shocked state. She could not remember how she got into her bed, neither did she understand why her hands and feet were tied. She screamed in panic.

Lucy and Jonathan came running when they heard the scream.

"Lucy, why am I tied down? What happened?"

Quickly, Lucy untied her and hugged her.

"Lucy, what is the matter?"

Lucy was worried, but Jonathan assured her.

"Ellen, you had a shock. You were in shock the whole day. You can't remember this morning?"

Ellen shook her head.

"That is quite normal when people are shocked. I see this all the time with people who, let's say, fell down a ladder. They don't remember the fall. You don't remember what happened this morning, do you?"

Ellen shook her head again.

"Ellen, I want you to know that it was a good news that shocked you so much."

"A good news?"

"What if I told you that Richard has always been true to you?"

"Oh Lucy, we saw him!"

"We saw him go into the house with the woman, yes, and I agree that this is usually proof enough. What if he passed out drunken before anything could happen?"

"Then he still intended to cheat on me."

"What if he, drunken as he was, thought of you before anything happened? What if he refused the woman?"

"Lucy, what are you getting at? Do you know something? Please tell me!"

"Ellen, do you remember getting this letter?" She held up the letter with the horrible scribble.

"No... oh my god, yes, the letter... there was something in the letter, I cannot remember, yes about Richard..." Full comprehension came upon Ellen and she slumped back on the bed. For a moment Lucy feared that Ellen would slip back into shock, but then she slapped her hands before her face and began to cry.

-------

"She came out of it last night. She remembers everything, but as you can imagine she feels terrible. She soaked three of my night shirts with her tears until she finally fell asleep. Do you want to see her?"

Harriet had been there early. She was worried about the girl. Ellen might be a bomb ready to explode at the most inopportune moments, but Harriet cared for her, and she knew that Richard loved her.

"I would like to, yes. Perhaps, you can warn her of my coming. The last time I barged into her room, I scared her terribly."

Lucy went ahead, and Harriet heard Ellen groan in desperation. Then Lucy held the door open and beckoned Harriet in. Ellen looked at her like a lamb eyes a butcher. Carefully, Harriet sat down on the bed and stroked Ellen's head.

"Ellen, tell me, will this go on forever? Will you and Richard stumble from one catastrophe to the next? You two must really learn to talk to each other."

"It does not really matter, Harriet. Oh, I'm sorry, Lady Carter. Lucy told me that I should show the letter to Richard. I will do that. Then I will ask his forgiveness and be gone from his life. He needs a woman who has faith in him."

Harriet shook her head emphatically.

"Don't you think he was punished enough? What is this talk about leaving his life? He needs you. Frankly, we need you. What you did for us in the last year will never be forgotten. Ellen, please, give him a chance to forgive you! Don't forget, he is not innocent of what happened. Even if he had second thoughts when he was alone with the woman, he still gave the impression that he cheated on you. For you, it was just as bad as if he really had cheated on you."

"Well, he was drunk," Ellen maintained stubbornly. "He made a mistake while he was drunk."

Harriet could not help but smile. "I thought that was no excuse? Well, and what about you? You were beside yourself seeing him arm in arm with another woman. That is just as good as being drunk."

"What is your point? Should I still be mad at him?" Ellen asked.

"My point is: give him the good news that he behaved halfway decently after all, but don't forget that the whole situation was still hurtful for you. You both have to forgive each other."

Richard reread the billet his mother had sent him to his office.

"Dear Richard, please be at our house tonight. We have good news for you, and we hope you will appreciate the bearer of those news!

Mother"

-------

It had been a terrible day, so far, with auditors crawling over the offices. He was the only senior officer left in the department. Gilbert Hume had opted for retirement into private life when faced with a possible complaint for negligence. The mysterious Mr. Sunderland who, as Richard found out, was the senior career officer at the Foreign Office, had told him to keep up the flag for the time being, and he had been trying for five days to get the department back into working order. They even finished the commerce treaty with Bolivia, together with a man from Trade, and it would be signed by the Bolivian ambassador in the next days. The damage was contained.

He arrived at his parents' house after dark and he recognised the two coaches out front as his grandmother's and the Wilkes' coach. When he entered, the first thing he noticed was that his whole family waited for him. Even Eleanor, who broke loose and threw herself into his arms.

"I'm so sorry for the way I treated you!" she whispered. "Please be nice to Ellen!"

"Eleanor," his mother chided, "do not spoil it!"

Grinning sheepishly, Eleanor let go of him.

"Richard, please go to your old room!" his mother commanded him, but the corners of her mouth were twitching. "Go, please. Don't ask questions, just go!"

Wondering whether his family was going crazy, he slowly ascended the stairs to the second floor and opened the door to his old room. He blinked twice before he trusted his eyes. There, on his bed, sat Ellen, looking at him like she expected him to beat her.

"Ellen, what are you doing here? You know we mustn't meet."

"I am supposedly the bearer of good news, Richard. I must also ask your forgiveness for the way I treated you and for the hurt I inflicted on you. Words fail me to express my remorse. Please forgive me!"

She must be insane, he thought.

"Ellen, these are the words I should say and the words I shall say once the affair about you-know-who is settled. What have I to forgive?"

Her eyes cast down, she held a letter to him.

"Read this then, and know."

He took the letter and blanched when he saw who had written it. When he came to the end, though, he shook his head. He read it again before comprehension dawned on him: he had not cheated on Ellen! In spite of the drunken stupor, his love for Ellen had been stronger! If Ellen knew that, maybe she could forgive him the embarrassment he had caused. His guilt had been cut by half in a few seconds.

He looked at Ellen and he saw the tears that streamed from her eyes, dripping down from her chin, while her hands kneaded an unused kerchief.

"Ellen," he said, "this takes a load from my soul. But why are you crying?"

"Because I failed you! Because I did not trust you the way a wife must trust her husband! Because I judged you without ever giving you a chance to defend yourself."

"Ellen, I did not even trust myself."

"Then I should have defended you against yourself! Listen, Richard, I came to tell you this news and to ask your forgiveness. Please do not answer now. You need to think about whether you can truly forgive me. When that whole affair you mentioned is over, give me your decision. Richard, your plan worked beautifully, I am proud of you. I must leave you now. Good bye."

Before Richard recovered from his confusion, Ellen had left the room. When he ran down the stairs, he saw that the Wilkes had already gone. Harriet stopped him when he wanted to run after them.

"I need to speak to her, Mother."

"This is not the time, Richard, she will not believe you. You both need time to heal, and besides, you have to listen to the apologies of your whole family before we will let you go."

When Richard left his parents' house that evening, in his grandmother's coach, he felt at peace for the first time in almost a year.

"Will I see some great-grandchildren yet?" the old woman asked him when they had arrived.

He turned serious. "I don't know, grandmother. I have to get through to the real Ellen first. But there is hope now."

"Did she tell you how that letter very nearly killed her?" the sly old woman asked.

"What?"

"Your mother told me she just sat there for an entire day, not talking, seeing nothing, hardly breathing. It must have been frightening."

"Why didn't they call me then? I should have been there for her. It's my right!" Richard shouted.

"See, that is what I wanted to hear, Richard. There is nothing for me to worry about. Let us settle this other ugly affair, and then you will marry Ellen as fast as compatible with decency."

"You tricked me again, grandmother. Please do not play with my emotions. Besides, they will not charge you-know-who with high treason. They mostly think she is insane. Binnings has asked for Parliament to annul his marriage, for reasons of insanity. Hume is blaming every failure of his department on her. They found letters written by her in which she called him a bumbling idiot, and he was not too happy to read those."

"What will happen to her?"

"They are undecided. It's either the asylum or a charge of theft. She had property of the crown in her possession. That would mean deportation, most probably."

"What would you prefer?"

"Deportation. She can have a new life in New South Wales, perhaps even find a new husband. She would be far away, too. The asylum is too cruel."

-------

The trial against Marjorie Binnings took place two months later. Both her husband and her former paramour, Gilbert Hume, bore witness against her, and several character witnesses testified on her various intrigues. When it was time for Lord Lambert to take the stand, the defence concentrated on the issue of the draft treaty. In her own testimony, Marjorie Binnings maintained that she wanted to steal the love letter of a rival, Ellen Trilby. This was crucial because the documents found in her home were harmless compared with the treaty.

"Milord, when did you become aware of the loss of the document," the Crown asked.

"Almost immediately after I left Sir Gilbert's house. I was in my coach and checked for it when I noticed it was gone. I knew immediately that only one person had had a chance to steal it."

"How so, milord?"

"I had the envelope in my breast pocket, and I took off my coat only once during the evening, when Mrs. Binnings pushed me to spill wine over my shirt. Under the pretence of helping me, she stole the envelope while I changed my shirt."

"Objection, milord," the barrister shouted. "This is an assumption!"

The judge looked annoyed. "The envelope was found on her person; we already heard Colonel Dobbs testify to that."

"Milord," the Crown continued, "the accused maintains that she wanted to steal a personal letter from you rather than a treaty document."

"I had no personal letter on me." That was true, he had transferred the letter to his cloak in a well-practised piece of legerdemain.

"Thank you, milord."

"Does barrister wish to cross-examine?"

"No, milord. I wish to call a witness to refute Lord Lambert's testimony on this point."

There was an uproar in the court room.

"Barrister, I ask you to be more careful in your wording. Do you accuse Lord Lambert of perjury?"

"No, not at all. All I'm implying is that perhaps his memory is failing him."

"Who do you wish to call?"

"The defence calls Miss Ellen Trilby!"

Richard was shocked. If Ellen was caught in a perjury, she would be deported. He looked around, hoping for an inspiration, but none came. It was too late anyway, for Ellen had stepped forward. She must have known, Richard thought, what will she do?

"Your name, Miss?"

"Ellen Trilby Wilkes."

"What is your stand?"

"I am the adopted daughter of Sir Jonathan Wilkes. My real father was Major James Trilby, of the 42nd Foot."

"Miss Trilby, is it true that you were, until a year ago, engaged to marry Lord Lambert?"

"Yes, that is true."

"Then, the engagement was broken?"

"Yes."

"What was the reason for the split?"

"I'm afraid that is nothing of your business, Sir."

"The witness need not answer that question as neither she nor Lord Lambert stand accused in this court." The judge was not happy about the direction of the questioning.

"Miss Trilby, did you or did you not sent letters to Lord Lambert?"

"Yes, of course, we were engaged."

"Let me rephrase that question. Did you, after your split, and approximately three months ago, write a letter to Lord Lambert asking him for reconciliation?"

Ellen cast down her eyes and then looked up imploringly at the judge.

"Must I answer that, milord? This is very personal," she almost whispered.

"I'm afraid you must, Miss. Clear the spectator benches! This questioning is not for the public to hear!"

When the courtroom was empty but for the parties involved and the jurors, the barrister stepped up.

"Do you wish me to repeat my last question?"

"No, thank you, I understood you quite well. The answer is yes, in fact, I wrote more than one letter. Oh, this is mortifying!"

Ellen Trilby was a very beautiful woman, and she was young and looked helpless. The jurors felt with her, as she suffered under the merciless questioning by the barrister. When her tears started rolling, more than one of the jurors looked at the barrister with murder in their eyes.

"Do you need a break, Miss Trilby?" the barrister asked with a slight sneer, not quite aware of the juror's sentiments.

"No, let us get it over with," she replied with a suppressed sob. Oh god, the girl was brave, too!

"So it is quite possible that Lord Lambert may have carried one of those numerous letters on his person?"

"No!" Ellen wailed.

"And pray, why not?"

"I never posted them. I was too afraid that he might reject me!" Ellen cried, fully opening the floodgates.

Damn, even the judge glared at the barrister now who was floored. He had smelled sweet victory, but the girl had snatched it from right under his nose. One look at the jurors was enough to convince him that they believed her every word.

"I have no further question, milord."

"Nor would I have allowed them," the judge growled, obviously angry. "You have unnecessarily exposed this young woman to a considerable distress and embarrassment. Does the Crown wish to cross-examine?"

The Crown looked at the witness and he saw a nod from her.

"Yes, milord, if it pleases you, just one question to clarify a point that came up during the testimony."

The judge nodded reluctantly.

"Miss Trilby, just this one question and then this ordeal will be over for you. Is there any way how the accused may have learned of the existence of those letters that you wrote but never sent?"

Ellen stopped sobbing and thought about the question. Then her face brightened somewhat, and she nodded.

"Yes, I remember now! Mrs. Binnings visited my stepmother, about four months ago. I received her and let her wait in our living room while I notified my mother. I distinctly remember that my writing utensils were in the living room while I left her alone. I was working on one of those letter then, had barely started it. She must have read it and assumed that I sent it, too."

"Objection, your honour, the witness speculates."

"Denied, you called this witness!" the judge grumbled. " Miss Trilby, you are excused. I thank you for your patience and ask your forgiveness."

He raised his voice.

"If I hear about this testimony outside this courtroom, I shall have everybody involved thrown into prison for a fortnight! This is not an idle threat. The spectators may come in again."

While the spectator benches filled again, Ellen rushed from the court room. She did not get far before Richard caught up with her. Unbeknownst to the judge, he had listened in to the proceedings from an upstairs room, and he had heard her testimony.

"Ellen, wait!" he called. She stopped, her eyes cast down. "Let us go outside, Ellen," he said, offering his arm. She took it hesitantly.

They stepped out of the building and walked towards the river.

"Ellen, I am sorry you were caught up in this. I did not think they would call you into the stand. You really killed them with your testimony."

She looked at him, mortified.

"Yes, I listened in, I could not help it. Why did you lie, though? You were doing wonderfully, telling the truth. You wrote the letter, but you did not post it. That was the truth. Why that unnecessary lie about the several letters, Ellen?"

She looked at him like he was twisting a knife in her belly.

"Oh god, you didn't lie there either. You did write letters to me?"

Ellen nodded, swallowing heavily.

"Asking me for reconciliation? Even then, before you received that other letter from Charlene Beckham?"

Ellen nodded again, not daring to speak.

"And you feared rejection from me?"

The nod was hardly perceptible.

"And you did not sent them?"

She shook her head, no.

"Do you still have those letters?"

A nod.

"May I have them, Ellen?"

Her eyes flew open wide.

"What for?"

Her first words startled him, but he desperately needed to get to the bottom of this.

"Ellen, you wrote letters confessing your love for me when you still had to be convinced that I had failed you miserably. You trusted me then! You were ready to forgive me! I only have one fervent wish, Ellen. Please be my wife! As soon as possible. I cannot stand living without you any longer."

They were not present when Marjorie Binnings was sentenced to deportation, they did not go to any of the numerous soirees where people ran the gossip mill on her. They returned to Richard's house to tell the news to his grandmother before they retired to Richard's room. They talked long into the night before Richard returned her to a worried Lucy Wilkes.



-------

Chapter 21: Bliss



Two weeks after Marjorie Binnings' trial, on a warm day in early August, the tenants of Matcham and Woodbridge and their dependants assembled in and in front of the village church. The front pews were taken up by a large group of visitors, noble and rich people, who had come to celebrate with Richard and Ellen. Before their friends and relatives and the assembled country folk, the new squire of Woodbridge Manor, Richard Lord Lambert and his lovely bride, Ellen Trilby Wilkes, exchanged their marriage vows. The Hon. James Palmer, son of Lord Broughton, served as his best man, while Eleanor Carter had difficulties maintaining a facade of happiness while she served as bridesmaid to her friend Ellen.

The ensuing celebration lasted well into the next morning. For most of the evening, Richard and Ellen danced together, save for a few occasions when close relatives danced with the bride. When it was time for the newlyweds to retire, Richard felt anything but tired, having foregone wine and spirits for days and drinking sparsely over the day. He could barely believe that finally, finally Ellen was his. During the coach ride back to Woodbridge Manor, he dared not let go of her hands, lest some quirk of fate may snatch her away at the last moment.

Ellen, for her part, felt Richard's emotions, and they echoed her own sentiments. Nothing would go wrong this night, she promised herself. When they arrived, she felt the elation as her husband lifted her from the coach. In spite of the late hour, the house staff lined the stairs as Richard led her to the first floor bedroom. She squealed in appreciation when she saw the flower arrangements around the room that filled the air with a sweet scent. A cool bottle of wine and small snacks were waiting, too. She remembered the adoring look of Millicent Wade and she envisioned the girl slaving away to prepare the bedroom for them.

Richard opened the bottle and poured wine into the long-stemmed glasses. He handed her one glass and then saluted her.

"To the new Lady Lambert!" he smiled, and they sipped of the wine. Ellen had had a few glasses of wine over the day, and she felt like floating. She knew this night would include one little barrier for them to overcome, and she was slightly apprehensive. The wine helped her a little to quell her fears. With quick determination, she took the covers off the bed and started to remove her jewellery. She needed Richard's help to undo the clasps that held her dress in the back, and she felt his fingers tremble slightly. When she let her dress slip down her body, she heard Richard's admiring intake of breath. Stepping out of the puddle of silk, she dropped her underwear in quick succession until she stood naked in front of her mesmerised husband.

Richard felt short of breath watching Ellen shed her clothes. The flickering light of the candles cast a golden hue over her skin. When she reached up to unfasten her hair, he could not resist his urges anymore. Stepping forward, he crushed her against his chest, pressing his lips against hers and kissing her with all the pent-up passion of over two years.

"Won't you undress, Richard?" she asked breathlessly.

Quickly, he shed his clothes, sending buttons flying over the room as he ripped open his shirt. Ellen giggled happily until she saw his engorged member jump out of his breeches. The apprehension was back again for a moment, but she dismissed it quickly. She would be his tonight, regardless of what it took. Having undressed, Richard blew out the candle and led Ellen to the windows. In the pale light of the full moon, her hair seemed to glow in the dark. He opened a door to the balcony and together they stepped out. Richard knew that no servant chamber had windows to the back. From the balcony, he led her down over a stairway into the small walled garden. The blankets he had ordered were there, as was another bottle of wine and a pitcher with water. He made Ellen lie down on the blankets in the shadow of a blossoming cherry tree and stretched out beside her. Reverently, he let his fingers explore her body, starting from her cheeks down over her neck, her shoulders. When his fingertips touched the upright nipples of her breasts, Ellen drew a sharp gasp and pulled his head down. With his lips and tongue, he continued the ministrations to her breasts until he heard soft moans escape from her mouth with every breath she exhaled. He moved down to her belly, and he felt her muscles flutter under his tongue. Desperately trying to contain his own lust, he moved his lips lower on her body until he smelled the aroma of her arousal. Her sparse blond hair shimmered in the moonlight, and she opened her legs willingly as he moved to the top of her untried opening.

Richard knew what to do and how. He had had extensive tutoring as a youth, and today, he wanted to give his wife a lovemaking she would always remember. He let his tongue play over the soft and sensitive insides of her thigh, and he was rewarded with sobbing intakes of breath. He took his time then, kissing down her legs, caressing her knees and her calves, moving back up again, skirting her opening and latching onto her navel again. The uncontrolled flutter of her stomach muscles was accompanied by ragged breaths and moans, and Richard prepared for the final assault.

When Richard led her down into the small garden, Ellen was surprised and delighted. The thought of giving herself to her husband under the bright moon made her giddy with emotion and desire. From his first touches, Ellen's body was on fire. His soft caresses made her yearn for more intimate touches. She nearly exploded when his lips moved towards the centre of her lust, and she whimpered in frustration when he skirted it. She went through another built up when he moved up from her calves and along her legs, but again, he did not touch the core of her desire. Nevertheless, the tongue in her bellybutton very nearly made her cry with lust. She looked down between her breasts and saw his tongue as it trailed down from her navel and through the patch of blonde hair, and she expected him to skirt her pussy again and renew the torture.

When the tip of his tongue lashed her love button for the first time, she was unprepared for the jolt of lust that surged through her and, with a keening wail, she experienced a powerful release that left her limp and almost lifeless. When she came to, she looked down into Richard's smiling eyes, and she reached down to caress his face. Just then, he started a second assault on her slit, penetrating the soft lips with his tongue, sucking on her little nubbin of lust until she reached a second, even more powerful peak. While recovering, she suddenly realised that he was kissing her, his lips tasting of her essence while his torso settled on her with his weight. She wanted to cry with joy when she felt the tip of his member settled against her entrance, and she smiled up at her husband.

"Yes, my love! Do it now!" she encouraged him, all fear and apprehension blown away.

She felt her lips part as his massive member wedged between them, and her opening was stretched like never before as he the head of his member parted the lips. She felt it acutely when his advance met with the natural obstruction, and she took a deep breath, preparing for the pain. Suddenly, Richard bent down and bit gently into her neck, just below the ear. A shudder passed over her, and she squealed in pleasure, forgetting about everything for a moment. The squeal ended in a short yelp when he pressed forward, tearing through the barrier and penetrating by an inch. He rested, giving her the time to sample the sensation.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"I don't know yet," she panted truthfully. "I feel like I was split along my seams."

That feeling subsided quickly though, replaced by a wonderful feeling of fullness. The sensations she felt were overwhelming, especially when Richard began to press deeper, rocking his pelvis ever so slightly. With each in and out sawing movement, she felt his member penetrate her deeper. Even in her light-headed state, she admired her husband's self-control. She could feel his desire to plunge into her depths, and she loved him for his consideration.

The friction inside her made her gasp again. This was like nothing she had ever felt, and she savoured every little movement. When the amplitude of his strokes increased, so did their breathing. Sometimes, when he pressed really deep inside her, she felt a shudder from deep within. At other times, when his movements were lighter, she felt like riding in the clouds, detached from gravity.

Then, gradually, she noticed a change in Richard's movements. They gained in urgency, force and speed. His breathing became ragged and his eyes clouded. She watched in awe as his face contorted in a grimace of lust, and she knew that it was she who gave him those intense feelings.

Crying out her name, he finally erupted inside her, and that knowledge gave her a deep satisfaction. She could feel the pulsing of his member in her tight canal, heard his sobbing cries, and she clung to him tightly. When he was finally spent, he pressed inside her one last time, deeper than before, and that triggered a final release in her, more satisfying than the first two, more emotional and less selfish.

'Shared joy is twice the joy.' The old saying popped into her mind, and she giggled softly.

Richard propped himself up with some effort and looked into her face questioningly.

Instead of answering the implied question, Ellen wanted to get something off her chest.

"Richard, there is something I have to tell you right now: I just had the most wonderful moments of my life," she said earnestly. "I want to thank you for the care and patience you showed. You have made this a memory to behold and cherish. I love you with all my heart."

"You have no idea what this moment means for me, Ellen. It is the fulfilment of a dream. We are one now."

They kissed tenderly for a while.

"Are you comfortable, Ellen? Would you rather I moved off?"

"No, stay!" she whispered back. "Your weight on me feels reassuring. I just hope there are no ants here," she giggled, and he laughed softly in reply. "How soon can you do this again?"

In response, she felt his manhood swell inside her, and she gasped. "That fast?"

He smiled back at her. "Have you any idea how desirable you are, Ellen?"

In truth, he was astonished himself. Within a few seconds, he was hard as a rock again. Holding Ellen tightly, he rolled on his back, pulling her on top of him.

"Ride me, Ellen. Set your own pace."

Comprehension showed on Ellen's face. She sat up, straddling him, his member still lodged inside her, and she began to move up and down tentatively. Richard held still, giving her the time to explore the possibilities. Her face showed such intense concentration that he almost laughed.

After just a few minutes, Ellen had found out what she needed. Combining the obvious up and down movement with a rocking movement of her pelvis, she soon elicited delighted gasps from her husband and her own throat. The way her own love button rubbed against his pubic hair sent shivers of lust through her body, and the way the head of his member pressed against the front of her love canal during certain movements caused small spasms in her very core.

Lost in her movements, she suddenly became aware of an additional stimulus. His hands had found her breasts, and his thumbs brushed over her sensitive nipples with every up and down movement. She felt the heat rise from her belly over her chest, along her neck and into her face. When it reached the top of her head, a dam broke, and she became rigid. For three or four seconds, she remained motionless, the blood rushing in her ears. Then, Richard pressed his abdomen upwards to impale her, and she felt the pulsing of his member as he shot his semen deep into her womb.

Exhausted, Ellen slumped over Richard's chest, her heavy blonde tresses covering them completely. Carefully, Richard rolled her off his chest and onto her side, extracting his limp member from her. Covering her with a blanket, he held her tightly in his arms. After what seemed a long time, Richard tore himself from the sleepiness that encroached on him.

"Shall we go to bed now, darling? Much as I'd like to stay here, this is not how I want to be found by the servants."

Ellen nodded sleepily. He helped her up and wrapped her in a blanket. On a whim, he picked her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and covered her with a blanket. Then he stretched out beside her and was asleep within minutes.

They skipped breakfast the next morning, opting instead for another love making session. They finished in time to dress for lunch. The family came over from High Matcham, and it was obvious from the beaming smiles of Ellen and Richard that the wedding night had gone well. Aunt Emily's smile was a bit wistful when she saw the happiness of the couple, but Eleanor was clearly hurting. Antonio was gone for over two years, and ten months had gone by since the shipwreck. Her hopes were dwindling although she would never admit to it. She asked herself whether she would ever know the happiness that her friend Ellen felt.

Of course, Ellen noticed her friend's mood, and her heart went out for her, but she felt unable to give her new hope. She knew that Doña Maria had begun to wear black, and that this had been a major blow for Eleanor. Ellen asked herself how long Eleanor would continue to hope against all probability.

Some time during the afternoon, Lady Carter asked her daughter in law for a private moment. She led the unsuspecting Ellen to a room on the second floor, a room Ellen had not paid attention to, yet. When Harriet opened the door, Ellen gasped in surprise. Memories came rushing back to her when she looked at the furniture, some pictures, and a small harpsichord. She knew that instrument, she knew the pictures and the small table with the elegant chairs.

"Where did you get those?" she whispered.

Harriet cleared her throat.

"When Col. Meadows visited, we asked him about personal items from your mother. He was very embarrassed, but he admitted selling most of those items to make ends meet, as he chose to call it. He gave us the name of the trader to whom he had sold the items. We sent John Little to Gloucestershire, and with the help of the trader, he was able to retrieve some but not all of your mother's possessions."

Harriet went to a small table and took a box that was sitting there.

"Ellen, there is something that I wanted to tell you for a long time, but somehow, I never found the right moment. When you first told us your real name, after the attack by the Tremont boys, I was shocked. I don't know whether you noticed, Ellen, but your name meant something to me. I was once good friends with your dear mother Siobhan, although we only had three or four months together. I was also present when she met your father, and when she saved your father's life. Did you ever hear that story?"

Ellen swallowed, staring at her mother in law.

"I hardly remember my father before he died, and my mother did not mention him later for fear of upsetting her husband. Then she became sick, and her mind was none too clear anymore. Please tell me all!"

Harriet smiled and caressed the young woman's cheek.

"You are a lot like your mother, you know? I cannot tell you the whole story, not here, no now, maybe some long winter evening. Suffice to say, Siobhan O'Shaunessy accompanied me through Ireland, her home country, as a favour. I had done her family some favour, and in return she accompanied me to a small inheritance I had made. On the way, we were held up by Irish highwaymen, but your father, Captain Trilby and his soldiers came to our rescue. Oh, they quarrelled so much in the beginning! Like cat and dog! She had a fiery temper and he was making fun of her all the time. Then, there was politics, he being an officer of the army, and she being an Irish woman.

"When your father was shot in an ambush, however, it was Siobhan who rushed to him, without paying heed to her own safety. She stilled his blood and most assuredly saved his life. That night, they declared their love to each other. They married as soon as your father could stand on his own legs again. Your mother wrote me regularly until the end of the war, and then we lost contact.

"There is something else you should have. Siobhan gave me this pendant with a miniature painting of her when we parted, and although I cherish the memory of her, I want you to have it."

Ellen stared in awe at the minute painting of a young woman in a silver frame. This was her mother, before she became sick and frail! This was her mother how she appeared in Ellen's happy dreams. She swallowed hard and looked at Harriet whose eyes were moist, too.

"Now you know why I accepted you with open arms, Ellen. Siobhan O'Shaunessy was a very good friend. I thought you should know that."

Harriet fastened the chain with the pendant around Ellen's neck. The two women hugged tightly, and then Harriet led her daughter in law back into the hall.

-------

For the next two weeks, Ellen and Richard enjoyed themselves and the country life, and it was late August when they returned to London. Old Lady Lambert openly enjoyed the presence of the young couple, and she studiously saw to it that they had enough private moments. She became excited like a young woman when Ellen told her that she had missed her first times after the wedding. Most of all, she enjoyed to see her grandson drunk with joy on the side of his young wife. If only Eleanor wound find peace!

Richard was now heading the department in Gilbert Hume's stead, and he had returned to his desk. It was during his fourth week back that a clerk from the consular department came over with an envelope. There was a hand written note attached.

'This appears to be a matter for your family. Melwith.'

George Melwith was head of consular department.

Richard opened the envelope to find two sealed letters and a cover letter. He read the cover letter first.



Boston, July 18, AD 1829

HM Consulate General

Dear Sirs,

please find included with my regular report these letters by a young gentleman. He claims to be a Colombian national and in fact the Colombian ambassador to the United Kingdom. I could verify that he was rescued from an open boat last year by a Nantucket whaler bound for the South Atlantic, and he was kept on board that whaler for the entire journey. He lost his papers in a shipwreck, and I find it impossible to verify his claims to his previous position. However, his excellent manners, his knowledge of the Court, and his claim that he is engaged to the daughter of Admiral Sir Anthony Carter all but convinced me of his identity. I have therefore included two sealed letters, addressed to the Hon. Eleanor Carter and to a Doña Maria Ruiz de Costa, with this letter, and I ask you, Sirs, to forward these letters to the addressees.

Your humble servant

Humbert MacAllister, K.B.

Lt. Col. and Consul-General



Richard's first impulse was to rip open the letters but he checked himself. He stuffed the letters into his breast pocket and left his office in a hurry. A rented cab brought him to his parent's home, and he ran up to the door, two steps at a time. Inside, he did not wait for anyone, but bounded up the stairs to Eleanor's room, pounding against the door until a bewildered Eleanor opened. He picked her up into his arms and hugged her, whirling her around the room.

"Richard, what is it? Are you out of your mind? Let me down!"

He let her stand then and grinned at her.

"Eleanor, he is alive! Alive and well in Boston!"

Understanding dawned in Eleanor's eyes.

"You mean... You mean... Antonio?" she asked with a trembling voice.

"Of course! Here, see, it's a letter from him to you!"

The noise had alerted his parents, and they stood in the door, only to see Eleanor tottering on the verge of fainting. Richard reacted quickly and led his sister to a sofa, holding her reassuringly.

"Richard, what is this about?" his mother asked concerned.

"Antonio! He is alive! He is in Boston. As you said, father. He was picked up by a southbound whaler and dropped off in Boston in July after the whaler concluded its journey."

Harriet leaned into her husband.

"Oh my god. Eleanor was right all the time. You were right, too."

Eleanor, in the meantime, had recovered somewhat, and with trembling hands, opened the letter. Tears shot into her eyes when she recognised the handwriting.

Boston, July 15, AD 1829



My beloved Eleanor,

I pray to the deity that this letter finds you well and healthy and, forgive me, unmarried. I have arrived, after many months at sea, in the port of Boston in the State of Massachusetts. Our ship, the Estrella del Sur, foundered in a terrible storm after just a few days into our journey back to England, and I owe it to Providence that the small boat we sought our salvation in was found by another ship two days later. I cannot describe the sufferings of thirst and sunburn nor the joy when we were sighted and rescued.

The ship, an American whaler from Nantucket, refused to drop us off in any port, but the captain made us work in his crew. I believe, your father would say we were shanghaied. For months, we hunted the great whales, and only when our barrels were filled with whale oil did the captain sail northward, again without touching any port on the way. To be fair, we all received our shares of the earnings from the whale hunting, but I learned that the money will not suffice for a transport to London which is where I yearn to be.

I have found moderate lodgings in Boston, and the British Consul General, a very helpful and generous man, has promised me to forward my letters to you and my dear mother. Please ask your father or brother if they find it within their possibilities to send me sufficient money from my funds to cover my fare to London. Even if, and my heart nearly stops as I write this, even if you have despaired of my return and you are married to another man, I ask you to help me out in my distress.

Yours in deep love

Antonio



When Eleanor was finished reading, she began to reread, silent tears running down her cheeks. When she finished her second reading, she looked up at Richard and her parents.

"Does his mother know already?"

Richard shook his head.

"No, Eleanor, you were my first concern."

"I'll dress quickly. Will you come, too?" she asked her parents.

Harriet nodded emphatically. Within five minutes, the family mounted a coach and was off to tell the news to Maria Ruiz. When they arrived, Richard handed the letter to Eleanor.

"You go and tell her the news. You earned it."

Eleanor flew up the steps and pounded on the door, not bothering with the bell. When the servant opened, she brushed him aside and ran upstairs to the small living room where she had spent countless hours with Donna Maria, fretting over Antonio's fate. Maria Ruiz was startled to see her, but she grasped the meaning of this visit in an instant. There could be no other reason for the radiating smile on Eleanor's face. Wordlessly, but with a huge smile, Eleanor thrust the letter forward.

"He is alive?", Maria asked in a whisper, not trusting her voice.

Eleanor nodded happily. All the worries and hurt had dissolved into pure bliss. Maria opened the letter, and just like Eleanor, she read it twice, to make sure. She looked down on her black dress and then at the girl in front of her.

"I'll have to change," she said simply.

"My parents and my brother are downstairs, too," Ellen said.

"I shall receive them as befits the occasion. Eleanor, would you mind to tell them I need some time first? Would you perhaps come to dinner? All your family, of course?"

Eleanor nodded. She understood the emotions the older woman felt.

"I shall tell them, and they'll understand. When should we come?"

"At six? There is something I need to tell you first. Eleanor, I don't know how I would have made it through this year without your support. You are the best that could ever happen to Antonio and to me. I don't know how to say this properly, but I love you as if you were my own daughter."

The two different women hugged each other with feeling, and neither of them fought the tears of relieve. Eleanor left her then and told her parents about the invitation for the evening. Of course, Harriet could relate to what Maria was going through. They quickly rode back to the Carters' home but Richard, after hugging his sister once more, left to tell Ellen about the wonderful news.

-------

Lord and Lady Lambert rode their coach to the Ruiz residence. Ellen had been bubbling with excitement the whole afternoon and he had not been able to restrain her when she took the coach to the Carters'. Just like small girls, she and Eleanor had danced around in each other's arms. A huge load had come off Ellen's mind, too. She had felt almost guilty for being so happy while her best friend was in deep despair. Now she could really enjoy her own personal bliss. Eleanor, too, had been feeling bad. She did not begrudge her friend, but she could not share in her joy as much as she knew she should. This was forgotten now, and in their exuberance, Ellen told her about her hopes of being with child. Eleanor had hugged her tightly in response, and she delighted in the fact that she was finally able again to share the joy of another person.

Now Ellen sat in the coach beside her husband, looking forward to a pleasant evening. When they arrived, they were received by a hostess who had shed years of age in the past hours. More than ever, Ellen found it hard to believe that this woman had not turned her father in law's head. Casting aside such frivolous thoughts, Ellen hugged the woman with great emotion.

"I am so happy for you and Eleanor and Antonio!" she gushed, and Maria looked upon the excited young woman with some affection. It was clear that her joy was sincere, that she shared the relief in Antonio's rescue.

The hugging continued once the Carters arrived, and it took a while for them to be seated around the dinner table. Time and again, they toasted Antonio and his safe return. When the discussion turned to practical matters, such as how to provide Antonio with the means for his return, Richard suggested the channels of the Foreign Office. The Consul in Boston had been quite helpful already, he would certainly take care of things.

Eleanor spoke up at this point.

"If you think for one minute that I shall sit here for another four months, waiting for his return, you are wrong. I shall travel to Boston, wherever that is, and I shall bring him home myself."

There was silence around the table for a few moments. Then Lady Carter cleared her throat.

"Eleanor, much as I understand your feelings, this is something I just cannot allow. For you to travel alone to a foreign country would be absolutely inappropriate."

Eleanor's face became so miserable that Richard interfered.

"I shall accompany Eleanor, mother," he said, taking the wind from his mother's sails. "I am sure I can get leave from the Office."

"Oh Richard, would you?" Eleanor beamed. "You are the best!"

Ellen cleared her throat, and Eleanor's face fell. She realised that it would be cruel on Ellen to be left alone for months. But Ellen had a smile on her face.

"My dear husband, if you think for one minute that I shall let you travel to Boston alone, you are wrong, too. You can go with Eleanor, but not without me!"

"Do you think that's advisable, Ellen, to travel in your condition?" Harriet interjected, but Ellen only grinned. "Of course, I did the same, back then," Harriet admitted sheepishly.

"Father, what do you say?" Eleanor asked, for Sir Anthony had not spoken yet.

"I say, there is a cabin in the Amelia Anne, a rather comfortable ship-rigged merchantman, bound for Boston, and ready to leave within the week. I knew that one of you would want to pick him up," he ended smugly.

"Ellen, are you sure about this?" Richard asked.

"Of course," she said. "When will I have another chance to visit Boston? Furthermore, I shall have you to myself for a few weeks." There was a decidedly cheeky grin on her face, and Richard understood, not altogether unhappy with that particular prospect.

"I shall try to get a second cabin for Eleanor then," Sir Anthony said dryly and the whole table broke out in laughter.



-------

Chapter 22: Melissa Martin



Indeed, six days later saw the three of them inspecting a comfortable cabin on board the Amelia Anne. The ship was a solidly built clipper, constructed to give passengers a maximum of comfort, and Sir Anthony had personally inspected it to the amusement of the Captain. Since the hurricane season had not ended yet, they would take a northern route, and the captain expected the crossing to take five to six weeks. On the first days of the journey, they were indeed favoured by friendly autumn weather, and the Amelia Anne made excellent way. The three young people were lucky enough not to be affected by sea sickness like a few of their fellow passengers. To his surprise, Richard found out that another officer from the Foreign Office was travelling with them. Mr. Perceval Edwards was the replacement for the helpful Colonel MacAlister, and he travelled with his wife, Victoria, and they were both delighted to no end at travelling with a real life Peer of England and his wife and sister. They spent pleasant evenings in the main cabin where they shared a table. Other passengers were less pleasant. An elderly minister with his rather young wife looked with disapproval at the displays of affection between Richard and Ellen, harmless as they were. When Eleanor confessed that she was on her way to her marooned fiancé, they were shocked.

"I would let no daughter of mine travel to a foreign land!" the minister exclaimed.

"My parents gave me a good upbringing," Eleanor answered sweetly. "This is why they can trust me."

That did it, and for rest of the journey the couple did not speak to Eleanor which was just fine with her.

True to their captain's predictions, they arrived in Boston Harbour forty days after their departure, and their first worry was to find lodgings for the next three weeks. That accomplished, they set out for the British Consulate.

Sir Humbert MacAllister was an imposing figure. Tall, with red hair and impressive sideburns, he was nevertheless a friendly and helpful man. Once he had learned the identity of his visitors, he ordered his own coach to transport them to Antonio's address. Eleanor could hardly suppress her excitement while the coach rolled through the strange town.

At last, the coach lurched to a halt in front of a four-story tenement building. Richard alighted and helped Ellen and his sister. They looked at the building; it was not at all what they were accustomed to, but is was not run-down either. Richard led the small group into the stairwell, and they ascended to the second floor. There were four doors, and Sir Humbert had said it was the second. Richard knocked, but there was no answer. He knocked once more, and suddenly the door next to them opened, and a woman showed.

"You're looking for the Spaniard?" she inquired.

"Yes, indeed," Richard answered, bowing slightly.

"You'll have to look on the top floor, with that Martin woman. That's where he usually is."

With that, she slammed her door shut. Richard raised his eyebrows, and led the small group up another two flights. There was just one door up here, and Richard knocked.

"One moment please!" a pleasant female voice called from within, and Ellen noticed that Eleanor was ready to bolt.

"Easy there, Eleanor," she said, "you don't want to jump to conclusions, believe me!"

That was sound advice, but Eleanor felt panic. The door opened, and her fears solidified. The woman who opened was certainly very attractive. A full bosom seemed to stretch a paint-smeared dress to the breaking point. Her hair, dark brown, was curly, and tied in a frayed braid. Her face, with large, brown eyes and a generous mouth, was friendly, and this was underscored by the dimples that showed when she smiled. She looked at her visitors questioningly.

"Madam," Richard started, "we were told that Antonio Ruiz de Costa would be found here."

"Who wants to know?" the woman inquired, not unfriendly, but guarded. Her voice was rich and cultivated.

"I am Richard Carter, Lord Lambert. This is my wife Ellen, and this is my..."

"She must be Eleanor!" the woman said excitedly and laughed. "Poor Antonio speaks of you all the time! You came all the way from England to pick him up? How sweet of you! Come in, my dear," she gushed and pushed Eleanor in and into a large, well-lit room. Richard followed, but Ellen held back, trying to gauge the woman. She had to smile when she heard the happy shriek from Eleanor and gave the woman a friendly nod. The woman stared at her with an open mouth.

Melissa Martin considered herself a reasonably happy person, in spite of the repercussions she had to endure for her choices. The daughter of a rich brewer and merchant, she had grown up with a better education than most other girls. Early on, she discovered that she loved to paint and sketch. At first, her parents had been amused at her artistic streak and had even allowed her to study the arts further. When young Melissa steadfastly refused to select one of the numerous suitors, however, when she maintained her wish to become an artist for a living, her mother had all but disowned her. Her father had been disappointed, too, but at least he still acknowledged her existence, and he quietly supplied her with money for her living expenses. This was how she was able to afford the top story apartment where she painted and lived.

Three months ago, the displaced young Columbian had rented a second story room, and they had met in the stairwell. He had helped her carry her purchases upstairs, and they had started to talk. He had become a good friend to her, one who did not look down on her. For young Melissa, apart from being shunned by her family, carried another stigma. She felt strongly for women. Antonio had never looked at her with the smirk she was accustomed to, and she had come to trust him. And he looked so good! Soon, the young man would sit for her, and she was even able to sell a few of those paintings.

When she opened her door to those visitors from England, her well-ordered little world turned topsy-turvy. For she looked into the eyes of the loveliest woman she had ever seen. The friendly smile with which the young woman looked at her did not waver when Melissa stared at her. There was understanding in those violet-blue eyes, but no withdrawal. Finally, Melissa was able to speak.

"Would you like to come in, Mrs... , how do I address you properly?"

"Why not with Ellen?" the young woman suggested. "I've been Lady Lambert for only four months, and I feel strange being addressed that way. Are you a friend of Antonio?"

"We are neighbours and friends, yes. Not that sort of friends, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean," Ellen responded with a friendly smile. "Are you a painter?"

"Yes, I was working with Antonio, you see, he sits for me."

"I have never met a female painter," Ellen said with appreciation. "Come to think about it, I can't see a reason why women should not paint. Will you show me your work?"

"Of course, why don't you come in?"

They entered the atelier where an amused Richard watched his sister who was in a tight embrace will a half-naked Antonio. Ellen giggled delightedly, and walked over. Antonio looked up, and his eyes widened.

"You are here, too? I never expected you to come here. I would hug you, but Eleanor won't let go."

Ellen grinned and reached up to kiss his cheek.

"You had better dress before you hug me. Richard has a reputation as a duellist," she laughed.

Eleanor finally let go of Antonio and walked over to Melissa.

"Miss Martin, Antonio has told me about you. I want to thank you for being his friend."

She held out her hand, and Melissa shook it.

"I would suggest that this calls for a celebration," Richard spoke up. "I have taken the liberty of reserving a room for you at our hotel, Antonio. We will have another three weeks before our ship sails, and we should spend them in comfort. Your mother packed clothes for you, and they are at the hotel. Perhaps, Miss Martin would care to join us for dinner?"

The young woman blushed.

"Only if you are sure that I will not intrude on you," she said, but Eleanor gave her a brief hug.

"Don't be silly," she smiled.

"I take it you will be moving, Antonio?" Melissa asked.

Antonio blushed. "I suppose," he said. "I will help you finish the painting, don't worry. Eleanor, Melissa needs two more sessions with me to finish. Would it be terribly thoughtless of me to ask for leave to sit for Melissa? She has helped me so much."

"Can I watch?" Eleanor asked, hopefully.

"But of course," the young painter said, relieved that she would be able to finish the last painting.

"This is wonderful!" they heard Ellen exclaim. She had wandered off and examined the half-finished painting of Antonio. "This is so lifelike, you'd think Antonio will start to speak any moment. You must be very successful."

"Not really," Melissa laughed. "This is a city of religious people. They frown upon artists, the frown more upon a female artist, and the frown on women who chose to live alone."

"You can take orders then?" Ellen asked excitedly. "Could I sit for you? I want Richard to have a painting of me for his office."

Richard smiled, but he liked the idea. "I would love that," he offered.

"Why, of course," Melissa answered. The thought of painting this alluring young woman made her all giddy with excitement.

"Wonderful!" Ellen smiled. "Will you have dinner with us? We're at the Peabody. Do you know it?"

A half hour later, they had collected Antonio's meagre possessions from his room and loaded them on the coach that took them to their hotel. Richard had written a note to Sir Humbert, inviting him to dinner as well. Antonio spent the afternoon soaking in a large cast-iron bathtub, while an unashamed Eleanor puttered around him. Richard had debated where to draw the line, but his sister was so happy that he did not have the heart to curb her enthusiasm.

In the end, Eleanor landed alongside Antonio in the tub, kissing him fervently, and fondling his member. They had never before engaged in anything more than kissing, but in their bliss, they threw caution to the wind. Using her hands and small, perky breasts, Eleanor brought her lover to a quick orgasm, her soapy breasts catching the lion's share of his spendings. Laughing and horsing around, they dried off. Dressed, they joined Richard and Ellen at their table in the dining room.

A little while later, Sir Humbert arrived, accompanied by a good looking young woman who he introduced as his daughter Colleen. He explained that his wife had passed away ten years ago, and that his daughter accompanied him everywhere his duty called him. Antonio thanked the consul again for his help. They learned that Sir Humbert and his daughter would be passengers in the Amelia Anne for the journey back to England, after he was replaced by Mr. Edwards.

Melissa Martin arrived a few minutes later, clearly in her best dress and self-conscious. She had tied her rich brown hair into a single, thick braid, falling over the back of her tobacco-coloured dress. The dress could hardly contain the ample gifts nature had bestowed on her, and she was clearly ill at ease, especially seeing the other table partners in their well-tailored attire.

In her elation, Eleanor jumped up and hugged her, eying her with appreciation.

"You look fabulous, Miss Martin. It is a good thing that Antonio's faithfulness is unwavering for you are surely a temptation to any man. Isn't that so, Richard?"

Richard laughed easily. Since having reconciled with Ellen, he had become more sure of himself and of his wife. Knowing that Ellen would understand, he complimented Melissa, too.

"If you ever find painting too tasking, you can just as easily sit model."

Antonio snorted. "Easily? Did you ever try to sit motionless for hours?"

That took away the attention from Melissa, and she gave Antonio a grateful smile. Antonio had to relate his adventures in more detail during the dinner, and Eleanor's eyes remained glued to his lips. Unknowingly, and to the hidden amusement of nearly everybody else at the table, her hands pressed his arm fiercely whenever he related dangerous incidents. In the end, Ellen could not help herself. Laughingly, she bent over to Eleanor and patted her arm.

"Relax, Eleanor, he's here, safe and sound."

Eleanor blushed and smiled sheepishly receiving sympathetic smiles from all around.

"Can I help it if I feel with him?" she asked.

"No, I suppose you can't," Richard laughed. "Believe me, if it weren't for our parents and Antonio's mother, I would suggest that you marry instantly."

Antonio nodded. "The thought crossed my mind, but I want my mother to witness my wedding."

Colleen MacAlistair had been silent for most of the time. She had met the handsome young man a few times when Sir Humbert had invited him for dinner out of sympathy, and she had asked herself why he had not tried to woo her like most young men. Now, of course, she knew. Antonio and Eleanor were a match made in heaven. She then watched the other young couple. They were clearly past their first blinding love, settled into something deeper. They made the impression of having gone through hell and back, their love surviving and being stronger for it. A love like tempered steel, Colleen thought, the poet in her taking over, for she wrote poems as well as prose.

Her gaze then swept over the American woman, Melissa Martin. She was a painter, living on her own, defying her parents to persue her dream of becoming an artist. Colleen thought she understood her. She, too, did not look forward to being married to some young guards officer which was her probable outlook. Her dream was to become a renowned writer, being invited to the literary circles where the titans of the mind met.

The news of Lord Byron's death in Greece had hit her like a hammer; now her fervent wish to meet him once in her life had been buried. Suddenly, the object of her observation looked up, and the dark brown eyes were like deep ponds in which Colleen wanted to drown. She saw recognition and understanding in those eyes, and sadness. Yes, she understood. They would probably never meet again, never have a chance to find out how similar they felt and thought.

Melissa was distracted now, the conversation had turned towards the fact that she would portray young Lady Lambert. Melissa answered a few questions, and finally Colleen found the courage to speak.

"I have never seen a painter at work. Do you think I might come and watch you? We shall leave in three weeks, so it would have to be in the next weeks."

"Are you interested in painting?" Melissa asked in her rich, captivating voice.

"I aspire to be a writer," Colleen admitted, and the painter laughed.

"Let us trade then. I shall show you my painting, and you will show me your writings."

"Agreed!" Colleen smiled, but then her smile fell somewhat. "Will you allow me, father?"

Sir Humbert had not seen the interaction between his daughter and the young American woman. Like everybody else around the table, he found the young woman appealing, and he thought nothing of his daughter watching her paint.

"Of course, dear. Just make sure you let me know when you go and take the coach."

The young women agreed to meet at the studio the next afternoon for Melissa to do the first sketches of Ellen. Richard would help Antonio to obtain the funds he needed to purchase the items he would need for the homeward journey, and Sir Humbert insisted on the young Lord to meet with several Boston merchants who had a high volume of trade with England. Richard agreed on a lunch, maintaining that he would have dinner with his wife and not with strangers.

After the men had had a last glass of French Cognac brandy, Sir Humbert and his daughter offered their farewell and thanked for the invitation. They offered Melissa Martin a ride home in their coach, and Melissa accepted thankfully. On the way up to their rooms, Eleanor held back her brother.

"Richard, I am thankful for your help and understanding. That is why I won't deceive you. I will spend the night in Antonio's room. I need to be with him, and he needs me. I promise, I will not compromise myself."

Richard smiled benevolently at his younger sister and showed her a key.

"Why do you think I rented two adjacent rooms for you and Antonio? Here is the key for the connecting door. Be discrete though. Father will kill me if I allow you to get in trouble."

Eleanor reached up and pulled her brother into a kiss.

"Thanks, you are a wonderful brother," she whispered.

"It was Ellen's idea," Richard smiled.

"Oh no," Eleanor groaned. "She'll tease me mercilessly."

"That's a small price to pay," Richard grinned and led his sister to her room.

-------

When Richard entered his room, Ellen was sitting in front of a mirror, an oil lamp illuminating the corner. She was naked, and she examined herself in the mirror. Looking at Richard, she grimaced.

"I'm already showing," she said accusingly. "Soon I'll be bloated and you will not look at me anymore."

Richard knelt behind his wife and hugged her, looking over her shoulder at the mirror image.

"Ellen, if possible, you look more beautiful than ever. Your breasts are filling a bit, and your nipples are bigger. I also think your eyes are bigger now. I love the way you look like. As for your belly, that's hardly noticeable; and it is our child that is growing there. That is two persons in one for me to love."

Ellen turned to kiss him.

"Who told you what to say? Your mother?"

Richard laughed.

"My father hinted that I should show my appreciation for you even more while you are with child."

"Your father is a wise man. Take a leaf from his book."

"He also said that women with child feel the urge quite strongly and that I should not neglect you," Richard chuckled, kneading her breasts and pinching her nipples.

"Remind me to compliment your father on his insight," Ellen answered, leaning back against her husband who began to nibble at her neck while his hands continued to caress her swelling breasts.

"Let us move to the bed," Richard whispered into her ear, raising goose pimples over her entire body.

The five weeks on board the Amelia Anne, they had not been able to consume their love with quite the intensity they had grown used to. The wooden bulwarks provided little in the way of sound protection, and although they had been tempted to provoke the stupid minister with a noisy romp, they decided it would not be in keeping with the dignity of a Peer.

Tonight, though, they were in a real room, the floor under them was solid, and the bed was dry and smelt fresh. Ellen laid back on the bed, her legs slightly spread, and, grinning, she pointed Richard to the patch of blonde hair above the joining of her thighs. Quickly, Richard dove between her legs and buried his face in her sex. Ellen squealed with delight, and her hips began to undulate under his ministrations. She did not let him continue for long, though.

"I want you now, Richard," she said, pulling his head up.

Richard moved up and was surprised as she turned her back to him. She smiled.

"I like it when you hug me from behind. Can you come into me that way?"

Richard did not hesitate. Her well formed backside was too enticing. He moved behind her and guided his member into her slippery opening. When he found purchase, he penetrated her as far as possible, while he wrapped his right arm around her chest. Ellen pressed her backside against him and tilted her pelvis to achieve deeper penetration. To Richard, this felt like heaven, while the rocking motions of Ellen's hips gave him the most wonderful sensations. What Ellen lacked in experience, she more than compensated with her unbridled enthusiasm and her willingness to try new things.

He began to match her movements with his own hips, and for a few minutes the rhythmic slapping sounds of his pelvis against her buttocks were the only sounds in the room. Soon, Ellen's and Richard's breathing changed into a panting, and then into low moans as their movements gained in speed and intensity. Ellen began to urge him on with words of encouragement, whispered in between the moans.

Richard own passion increased with the knowledge that his wife was riding the waves of lust herself. She was never shy to express her wishes and feelings, and the bed was no exception to that. Finally, Ellen gave in to her passion, shuddering in her release, and Richard felt the pulsing of her inner muscles, setting him off shortly after her. Spent, the lay on their sides, her back against his front, and his softening member still lodged inside her, and this was how they fell asleep.

Meanwhile, an exhausted but happy Eleanor was suckling on Antonio's spent member. Antonio lay on his back, and his hand softly stroked Eleanor's hair as her head lay on his stomach.

With tongue, lips and fingers, Antonio had teased the young woman into a state of lust beyond anything she had felt before in her life. After she reached her first release, he never stopped, but kept going, bringing her to repeated peaks until she pleaded for mercy.

Chuckling, he had laid back, only to be surprised by Eleanor's counter attack. She began hesitantly by kissing his shaft with half-closed lips, but soon she learned from his reactions how to lick the shaft, how to engulf the sensitive head with her lips, and how to torment him with her swirling tongue.

Antonio was the unwitting beneficiary of a private tutoring session between Eleanor and her mother, who had given her pointers how to sate her fiancé's lust without running the risk of a premature pregnancy. Aided by her exuberant enthusiasm and by her urge to give Antonio a measure of her love for him, she brought him to a blinding release that left him weak and quivering on his back.

When Eleanor was satisfied that Antonio's member was cleaned, she moved up on his body and lay her head on his shoulder, listening to his heart beat and his deep breathing.

"How did you ever learn that?" Antonio asked weakly, but with a trace of concern.

"I asked my mother what I should do to show you my love," Eleanor answered brightly. "I practised with a cucumber," she added with a giggle. "I like your member better, though."

"You asked your mother?" he asked, blushing deeply at the thought of Eleanor discussing his member with her mother.

"Who else could I ask? Ellen would tell me, I'm sure, but she was too busy with Richard in the last weeks. Does it bother you, what I did?"

"Are you joking? Eleanor, what you did almost made me lose my mind! I should not have asked, I'm sorry."

"Where did you learn how to please a woman?"

Antonio cleared his throat, at a loss of what to tell her.

"Tell me! You must have learned from an experienced woman. Come on, I know that you must have known women before me."

"There was a woman, a servant, in our house in Cartagena. She was, she is a mulatta, a few years older than me. She was my lover and my tutor for a year. She taught me how to please a woman. Are you jealous of her?"

"No," Eleanor said with conviction. "If it hadn't been for her, you would not have known how to make me feel as good as you did. What happened to her?"

"When I left Cartagena to join the fight for freedom, I bought a farm for her and her family. The last I heard, she married a man from her village. I hope she is happy."

"Antonio?"

"Yes, mi amor?"

"I can hardly wait for us to be married!"

"I feel the same, Eleanor. All those months in the whaler, it was your image before my inner eye that kept me sane."

"I had your mother to give me strength. We have grown quite close. When everybody was telling us to accept that you were lost forever, we lent each other strength. We both felt strongly that you were alive. I don't know how to explain it."

"No man could ever dream of a better wife," Antonio whispered, lifting her face up and kissing her. Slowly, the two lovers drifted into sleep.

They awoke from a pounding on their door.

"Wake up, you two!" Ellen's cheerful voice could be heard. "Breakfast in a quarter!"

"She is my best friend, but one day I shall have to throttle her!" Eleanor grumbled, peering through her tangled strands of hair. Antonio smiled down on her.

"And don't smile at me at such an ungodly hour!" she continued.

But Antonio was unfazed. Bending down, he buried his face in her stomach and blew a raspberry on her belly button. Eleanor shrieked and tried to dislodge him, but she got a merciless tickling for her troubles until she begged for mercy. In a huff, she picked up her night shirt and went into her room to dress. Antonio waited in front of her room when she was dressed, and together, they went down to the breakfast room where they were met with wide grins by Ellen and Richard.

"Not - a - word!" Eleanor demanded, pointing her finger at Ellen, who merely lifted her eyebrows.

"As I was saying, somebody must have been very sick tonight," Ellen told Richard in conversational tone. "I distinctly heard this moaning and thrashing, and even cries of pain, I believe. Didn't you hear it, too, Eleanor?"

Eleanor looked murder, but Antonio had a good-natured grin on his face.

"Stop teasing my fiancé, Ellen," he smiled. "I believe I heard very similar sounds from next door."

Ellen merely grinned back.

"What do you expect? That was our first night alone. And we've been married for just three months."

Antonio was confused. "I thought you planned to marry last year?"

"We would have," Richard said quietly, "had it not been for my stupidity."

"And mine," Ellen added quickly. "But we found back together. And that is what counts. Eleanor can tell you."

She bent over to Richard who kissed her tenderly. They continued their breakfast and planned the day. Richard and Antonio would cash in a bill of exchange to get spending money for Antonio. The young man wanted to purchase presents for the people who had helped him, Melissa and Sir Humbert and his daughter. For the first time, Eleanor admitted to her initial misgivings.

"When I heard that you spent most of your time with a woman, I nearly turned around," she said, blushing slightly. "When she opened the door, she was so pretty, I would have run away had Ellen not stayed me."

Ellen laughed. "You sweet, innocent girl!" she said, patting Eleanor's hand. "Don't you realise that Melissa Martin would prefer you over Antonio any time? Or rather, me. Her look was rather admiring and flattering, I have to admit."

"You mean, she is... ?" Richard did not know how to express himself. The word lesbian had not been invented yet, and the male equivalent he had heard at school did not seem to fit.

"She would be called 'a confirmed spinster', I suppose," Ellen said, giggling at the euphemism. "But I like her. And her paintings are just fabulous."

Eleanor gaped at her. "Do you really think so? I thought she was so nice. Should you really go to her studio then?"

"She is a painter, and she will not attack me. If I went to a male painter, you would not think of it as inappropriate, would you?"

"I suppose, you are right," Eleanor conceded.

"Of course, she is right," Antonio said. "Melissa is the kindest woman on earth. I know that she will never love a man, but she is a wonderful friend."

The men left after breakfast, and Ellen and Eleanor sat in Ellen's room, sorting their clothes for laundering. Eleanor brought up the subject of Melissa Martin again.

"I did not want to mention it, Ellen, but what we did, back in my grandmother's house, do you think we prefer women, too?"

Instead of an answer, Ellen took Eleanor's face and kissed her soundly. Then she released the surprised girl.

"Now, would you rather have me or Antonio kiss you?"

"Antonio," Eleanor said, understanding.

"See? I love you dearly and I enjoyed those moments with you, the intimacy and the thrill of feeling your body. But with Richard, it is different and more. He fills me completely." She giggled. "Of course, he does, but I mean he fills my needs. But I must admit that the good Melissa has charms that cannot be overlooked."

"You mean her bust?"

"No, not that. She is so wholesome, and she bursts with vitality. I would like to know her better."

A maid picked up the laundry, and the two young women explored the vicinity of the hotel. Boston was a bustling city and the shops were stocked just as well as most London shops. In a bookstore, Ellen found two illustrated books on American plants and herbs which she purchased for Lucy. While they strolled along the streets they suddenly saw a man they had never met the like of. His skin looked like the skin of a sailor, a deep mahogany brown, but it was his features that made him stand out. High cheekbones and a narrow nose, dark brown eyes and thin lips set him apart from the surrounding people. He noticed the two young women who stared at him and a look of annoyance crept into his face. Ellen noticed that, and she was embarrassed. She walked up to the man.

"Please excuse my impoliteness, Sir! Are you what they call an Indian?"

The man nodded, not sure what to make of that young woman.

"You must think I am terribly uncouth. But you see, I just arrived here from England, and I have never seen a person like you."

"And that is why you and your friend stare at me?"

Ellen felt his reservation.

"Wouldn't the men and women of your people stare at me if I showed in their midst?" she asked, tilting her head.

The man could not help but laugh.

"Ma'am, you can show up anywhere, and people will stare at you!"

Now it was Ellen's time to blush, but she did not let that daunt her.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Sir," she smiled.

The man lifted his hat, and Ellen could see that his shiny black hair was shoulder length. He turned and left them standing.

"Well, now we can claim to have seen a Red Indian. Do you think he was a warrior?" Ellen asked Eleanor.

"He looked more like a clerk to me," Eleanor remarked, and they started to giggle.

They met with Antonio and Richard for dinner, and then, Ellen went through her luggage to select a dress she would wear for the sitting. She decided on a burgundy-red costume that had been made for her only recently.

She and Eleanor took a rented cab to the consulate where they picked up Colleen MacAllister. They arrived at the painter's address and were greeted by a Melissa Martin wearing a rather disreputable gown. She ushered the young women into her study and asked Ellen what kind of picture she was thinking of.

Ellen had thought about it.

"I'd like a portrait, something my husband can have in his office."

Melissa looked at Ellen.

"May I suggest something? You have the most wonderful hair. It would be a shame to hide it. If I paint a portrait, however, it would be cut off. What if we did a sitting pose? With you sitting upright on a high-backed chair? There is a furniture trader who lends me furniture all the time."

"I'm not sure if I understand this," Ellen began.

"Let me show you!"

Melissa jumped up and returned with sketch paper and charcoal. With a sure hand and within minutes, she sketched Ellen as she sat on the simple chair in the study.

When she showed the sketch to Ellen, the young woman held her breath. She had never witnessed such a display of artistic talent before. Although the sketch was roughly drawn with a charcoal stick, it seemed almost alive. Certainly, the proportions were perfect, and the viewer had the impression of standing opposite a sitting woman. Ellen decided to give the painter free hand.

Together, the four women went downstairs to the trader and selected an old-fashioned high-backed chair of darkened wood that would contrast nicely with Ellen's fair complexion and blonde hair. The trader promised to deliver the same afternoon. Next, they discussed the right dress. To Ellen's surprise, Melissa frowned upon the burgundy dress, arguing that the strong colour would distract from Ellen. When Ellen mentioned the light-blue silk dress she had last worn almost two years ago, the painter nodded excitedly.

"That would be wonderful. We shall have a tall pot plant on the right to contrast the light blue, and the dark chair will stand out nicely. Do you have jewellery you may want to wear?"

Ellen smiled, pulling back her scarf and showing her necklace. Melissa nodded and promised to select a canvas and start with the background. She asked Ellen to return in two days with her dress and a lot of patience.

Colleen came forward then, handing Melissa a small book, smiling shyly.

"I promised to bring you my writing."

"A book? You have published already? You must be so proud, Miss MacAllister!"

"Would you call me Colleen, please?"

"Of course, Colleen. I am Melissa. I promise to read it this very evening. Thank you."

"May I come and watch when you paint Lady Lambert?"

Melissa looked at her patron, but Ellen saw no problems, and the three young women bade the painter farewell. They saw Colleen MacAllister home and returned to their hotel where Richard and Antonio were waiting already. Ellen was enthusiastic about Melissa Martin, so much, that Richard became interested himself and promised to accompany her to one of the sittings.

Richard had news, too. The news about an English lord in Boston had spread, and they had received an invitation for tea at the Governor's Mansion the next afternoon. Sir Humbert would accompany them, as well as Mr. Edwards, the new Consul General, and his wife.

"I think MacAllister let the information out that I am with the Foreign Office, and now the governor probably wants to find out what I am doing in his state capital. You best put on your most beaming smile, Ellen, to dissuade any suspicions."

A little later, while they were sitting at dinner, a man approached their table and lifted his hat.

"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen. Please excuse the interruption. Am I speaking to Lord Lambert?"

"Indeed you are, Sir. To what do I owe the pleasure of our encounter?" Richard asked.

"My name is Jonas Templeton, and I am a writer for the Boston Telegraph. Would you care to tell our readers the purpose of your visit, milord? You are the highest-ranked British visitor in a year, and naturally, our readers speculate as to the reasons for your stay."

Richard thought briefly. Although he was slightly annoyed at the intrusion during dinner, this was a good opportunity to score with the public opinion in Boston, a major partner city to British trade.

"I must disappoint you, Mr. Templeton. My visit has entirely private purposes. My future brother in law had the bad luck to be in a ship wreck, and he was rescued by a Nantucket whaler. We came here to afford him the return to England. But since neither of us had ever been to the United States of America, we decided to make this a pleasure visit as well."

"And what, if I may ask, is your impression of Boston?"

"Only the best! This is an impressive city, and I found your system of public order exemplary."

"And how long do you plan to stay, milord?"

"Our ship leaves in a little over two weeks. But we shall try and make the most of the limited time!"

"Thank you, milord. May I ask who the ladies and the gentleman in your company are?"

"My wife, Lady Lambert, my sister, Miss Eleanor Carter, and her fiancé, His Excellency Don Antonio Ruiz de Costa, Columbian ambassador to His Majesty, King George IV."

Ellen and Eleanor contrived a curtsey while remaining seated, a remarkable feat they had learned from Old Lady Lambert, and Antonio stood shortly to bow. Mr. Templeton did his best to bow in return, and then continued to scribble in a notebook.

"Thank you, Milord, Your Excellency, Ladies! I shall not fail to make note of the fact that Boston has become a more beautiful city, due to your presence, Ladies!"

Bowing again, he left them to continue their dinner. They retired to their rooms and played a game of cards to pass the time. It was ten o'clock when Eleanor announced that she would retire to her room, and Ellen could not help but giggle, earning her another annoyed stare by Eleanor.

The next morning, Sir Humbert accompanied them on a tour of the city. Ellen found Boston Commons a delightful place to stroll and mingle with all sorts of people. Ellen and Eleanor caused people to stare, though. The colourful dresses they wore were at odds with the plain dresses the local women preferred, or rather, felt compelled to wear. Although Puritanism was not the dominant religious force anymore, the Unitarian and Presbyterian churches also frowned on the public display of female beauty. By contrast, England, in the time of the regency, was liberal concerning the arts and fashions, and Ellen's and Eleanor's dresses were designed to highlight their assets rather than hiding them.

Taking note of the staring they caused, Ellen changed for the tea time at the Governor's Mansion, wearing the charcoal dress in which she had once graced the tea in the Bavarian Embassy. The reception was a nice affair. Mr. Templeton's article had appeared in the morning paper, and the tone had been very friendly. The news that Richard's visit was for private reasons had already answered the main question the governor might have had. Templeton had given his quill free rein when he praised the beauty of Lady Lambert, inciting the curiosity of Boston's elite.

They were not disappointed when the British guests arrived. The conservatively cut dress was all the concession to modesty Ellen was willing to make, and her heavy blond tresses cascaded over the dark cloth. Her overall appearance caused temporary speech impediment to the men who were introduced to her. By the end of the reception, Richard and Ellen had collected enough invitations to last them their entire stay. Although most of the Bostonians were fervent defenders of the republican ideals, there was a secret yearning for the glamour of a monarchy, and Richard and Ellen embodied what those people were missing.

One of the first invitations came from a jovial gentleman, with red cheeks and a solid paunch. He and his wife, a frail woman with a severe expression, would have a piano concert in their home in a few days. Only when Mr. Martin mentioned that he was a brewer by trade did Ellen make the connection.

"Oh, then you are Melissa Martin's parents? How nice to meet you!"

Mrs. Martin looked as if Ellen had slapped her in the face, but Mr. Martin was only surprised.

"May I ask how you come to know our daughter?"

Of course, Ellen knew already how the Martins felt about their daughter and her art, and she decided to barb them just a little.

"We met through a common friend, Don Antonio Ruiz de Costa. She was painting him, and we recognised her talent immediately. I am having my portrait done by her. You must be so proud of her!"

"I'd rather she found a decent husband, to be honest!" Mrs. Martin opined, her features more severe than ever.

"Do you really think she has a talent?" Mr. Martin asked.

"Absolutely!" Ellen answered with more conviction than she really felt. After all, her knowledge of art was limited at best and confined to the contemporary painters of London.

Mr. Martin shrugged. "Maybe, it is meant to be," he sighed, only to receive a vitriolic stare from his wife.

-------

When Ellen arrived at Melissa Martin's studio the next noon, accompanied by Colleen MacAllister, she was astounded to find that the painter had already started. The background, a non-descript light brown wall, and parts of the high-backed chair had already been painted on a three by two canvas, a tall palm in a flower pot standing beside it. Ellen quickly changed into the light-blue silk dress and, with the help of Colleen, she put on her necklace.

From then, Melissa took over. She directed Ellen into the chair and proceeded to arrange her hair, the folds of her dress, the position of her legs underneath, her arms and, lastly, her head. Then she lit a candle on a high holder and placed it to the left of her easel. She told Ellen to look at the flame and moved the holder back and forth a little until she was satisfied with Ellen's posture. Then she set to work with a look of concentration on her pretty features.

Colleen tried to be as unobtrusive as possible and watched the painter with admiration as she started the outlines of Ellen's body first. Once that was finished, she did the face and the neck, and Colleen held her breath when Ellen's face materialised on the canvas, her violet blue eyes alive and alert, the arch of her eyebrows showing amused interest, and her full lips in her usual friendly smile. When the light finally faded, Melissa told Ellen to relax, and Ellen let out a relieved sigh.

"That was the worst, Lady Lambert. I did the face first, the rest will not require you to sit still all the time."

"May I have a look?" Ellen asked, unable to tame her curiosity.

Melissa nodded, slightly apprehensive, and Ellen walked around the easel.

"You are flattering me!" Ellen accused. "Surely, I cannot be as beautiful as the woman you painted."

"I assure you that I was merely painting what I saw. I suppose you compare my painting with what you see in the mirror, but that is deceiving. The mirror shows you an inverted image of yourself."

Ellen laughed self-consciously. "With that picture in his office, my husband will withstand the temptation to work long hours. When should I be back again?"

"How about tomorrow? I look forward to finishing this myself. It is my first commissioned work, you see."

"I am truly amazed, Miss Martin. By the way, we were invited to your parent's house for a music session in four days. Will you be there, too?"

"Did you mention that you know me?" Melissa asked surprised.

"Of course, and I congratulated your parents on having such a talented daughter. I'm afraid that did not sit too well with your mother." Ellen had a wry grin on her face.

"I am sure, it did not," Melissa answered.

"It seems your father may accept the fact that you are an artist."

"That will not help. My mother is the one who maintains all the contacts in Boston's society, and she makes sure that nobody will contract my services."

"That is terrible! Why would she do that?" Colleen cried, fully indignant.

"To force me to return to the fold," Melissa sighed.

An idea formed in Ellen's mind, but she needed to talk to Richard first. She tried to ease Melissa mind.

"Don't worry, you will get my endorsement, and from the looks of it, Boston seems to take serious what Richard and I do or say." She giggled. "That's quite a difference from London."

On the coach ride back to the hotel, Ellen voiced her appreciation of Melissa again and Colleen reiterated her outrage at her mother's behaviour.

"Perhaps, we should try to get her out of this city. In London, she would be the rage! A female painter, and one looking as good as her, would be a sensation."

A dreamy look had come over Colleen's face.

"Do you think that would be possible?"

"Why not? It's just the passage. After that, she would easily support herself with her work. I shall raise the issue with my husband. Will you accompany me tomorrow?"

"I'd love to, if I may," Colleen answered truthfully. "It was mesmerising watching your face appear on the canvas!"

"I find this exciting, too," Ellen admitted. "May I see some of your writing, too?"

"I have only finished a small book of poems. I shall give you one, I still have plenty left. I do not think that poetry is my future, though. I much prefer writing prose, short stories and such. My dream is to write a great novel once, but I need to know more of life first. I need to practice, too."

Ellen laughed. "Antonio's story deserves to be told. It is rather amazing, like the old books by Defoe."

Colleen stared at her.

"Do you think, he may tell me his tale? You are right, this is an absolutely stunning tale. He may want to have a real writer attend to it, though," she closed dejectedly.

"You'll never know unless you ask him," Ellen encouraged her. She liked the girl and sympathised with her struggle to escape a preordained path for her life. "Shall we meet tomorrow at eleven?"

Colleen agreed, and Ellen alighted from the coach and entered the hotel. Richard was waiting for her in the foyer and he smiled at her excited beam.

"Melissa Martin is fabulous!" Ellen gushed. "You must come tomorrow so see her at work!"

"I will, don't worry. Now, my dearest, you should change. We are invited to the Wrainwrights."

"Oh no, that dull woman with her fat husband?"

"Precisely," Richard laughed. "But he has several steam-driven cotton mills and he buys those in Birmingham. By going there, we ensure that he will continue to buy British steam engines."

"So you are sacrificing your wife's sanity for British manufacturers?" she asked laughingly.

"Think of the poor workers who will gain employment," he answered, not entirely in jest.

"I'm only coming if Eleanor and Antonio join us. I need at least one decently dressed woman around me."

Richard smiled. "Don't worry. They will accompany us. I shall not risk leaving them alone for an entire evening. God knows what happened yesterday while we were at the Governor's Mansion!"

-------

The evening was as dull as Ellen had feared, the men talking commerce, and the women gossiping about people neither Ellen nor Eleanor knew. They milled around, smiling politely and yearning for the evening to end. For a few minutes, Ellen was able to snare Antonio, and she told him about her idea to transplant Melissa Martin into an environment where her abilities would be appreciated. Antonio was all for it, and he offered to contribute to the costs. Ellen talked to Eleanor, too, who was astonished at the enthusiasm Ellen showed.

"Are you sure about this, Ellen? Don't misunderstand me, but you have never been that interested in paintings. What if your assessment of her talent is wrong? You are not an expert, after all."

"I am not an astronomer, either, but I can tell whether the night sky looks beautiful," Ellen retorted. "I'm not saying that she is the best painter in the world, but if you combine her talent with her looks and personality, she will be the rage of London, at least for a few seasons. Then she'll be established. Do you have reservations about her?"

"I'm afraid you may see more in her, Ellen, and that might hurt my brother."

Ellen was stunned.

"But I assure you, Eleanor, I feel no untoward attraction to her." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "As you may recall, I prefer redheads with small breasts and perky nipples!"

Eleanor blushed crimson, but she could not hide the satisfaction in her eyes. Ellen used her advantage.

"Why don't you try her talent yourself? I am sure, Antonio will love to have your portrait, and it would make a wonderful gift for him."

Ellen had become quite good at manipulating her sister in law. Eleanor was at a disadvantage, being in love head over heels, and the simple mentioning of Antonio was enough to sway her.

"That may be a good idea, Ellen," she conceded grudgingly. "Antonio befriends her. It will please him even more if he has a portrait of me from her hand."

Finally, even this evening drew to a merciful end, and the four young people piled into a rented coach and returned to the hotel. Ellen did not mention anything about her plans to Richard, though. She wanted him to see the painting first. Besides, there was no opportunity to discuss art, for Richard took it upon himself to give his young wife compensation for the evening she had endured, and the day ended for them in mutual satisfaction.

-------

"Miss Martin, I am enthralled! You have captured my wife to perfection! I can hardly wait to see this finished." Richard was awed by the half-finished painting. This was his Ellen, smiling at him from the canvas.

"You will have to wait two more days, milord," Melissa answered, blushing with pride. She had been apprehensive when Ellen's husband had accompanied her, even more when Eleanor had shown.

Meanwhile, Eleanor looked at the canvas with open-mouthed wonder.

"Miss Martin, when you are finished, would you care to paint a portrait of me, too? For Antonio."

"I would love to!" Melissa smiled. "But for you, I would take a light blue background to highlight that wonderful shade of your hair. This is your natural colour, I presume?"

Eleanor nodded and smiled at the compliment.

"Wonderful. It will take me five to six days in total, so it should be finished easily before you will leave. But I need to start now, before the light will fade."

Resolutely, she blotted out the watchers and continued to detail Ellen's torso, the low neckline of the dress with the tops of her swelling breasts, and the still narrow waist. When the light finally failed them, there were only some parts of the skirt to be finished, and the left armrest of the chair.

On the way home, a thoughtful Richard cautiously voiced an idea.

"Ellen, darling, I was thinking whether it would be possible to entice Miss Martin to visit London. I think she would be very successful, especially if you were to accept her as your protégé."

"Richard, who told you?" Ellen laughed.

"Who told me what?"

"About my idea to invite Miss Martin to London!"

"Wait, you were thinking the same?"

"Yes, absolutely! I was contemplating since yesterday how to talk you into it," Ellen admitted, laughing happily.

"Let us ask her tomorrow!" Richard said, and Ellen hugged him exuberantly.

-------

Melissa Martin put down her fine brush and squinted her eyes at the drying canvas. Yes, this was fine. This painting was one of her finest yet, she had captured this wonderful young woman in a lifelike pose. The proportions were perfect as far as she could tell, and the colours complemented each other nicely. She was especially proud of the set up, with the chair and the pot plant; it looked like Lady Lambert was sitting in a living room, perhaps reading a book.

"I am finished now, milady. Perhaps you would care to have a look?"

Ellen smiled and stood. Walking to Melissa's side she squealed in delight at seeing the finished painting. Her eyes took in the whole picture, she squinted to look at details, and then she turned to Melissa.

"There is something amiss. You did not sign it."

Smilingly, Melissa took a small brush and painted two intertwined Ms in the bottom right corner of the canvas, together with the year, 1829.

"Here it is. My first commissioned painting. I need to keep it over night for it to dry completely. Would you tell Miss Eleanor that we can start tomorrow? Perhaps, she can pick it up for you?"

"I shall accompany her myself," Ellen answered. "There is another thing I would like to bring up, Miss Martin. I have spoken with my husband, and we both find that your extraordinary talent is not appreciated here. We know this would mean a big step for you, but we would offer you to accompany us to England. We both feel that you would meet with considerable appreciation, and you may also profit from the contact with other eminent artists. We would like to have you as our guest."

Melissa barely trusted her ears. She in London? Meeting eminent artists?

"Lady Lambert, I do not know what to say. Your offer comes unexpected, and I need to think about the implications. I would have to talk to my father, too. But I would like to express my gratitude for the generous and flattering offer."

"Take your time, Miss Martin. There is no need for you to make a decision in a rush. I shall be back tomorrow with Miss Carter."

When Ellen was gone, Melissa dressed hurriedly and took a rented cab to her father's brewery, hoping to find him there. She was lucky, inasmuch as he was in his office, and he greeted her with affection. Unlike his wife, Mr. Martin still cared for his wayward daughter.

"What do I hear about you, Melissa? You made quite an impression on Lord and Lady Lambert. They were full of praise for you."

"Isn't it wonderful, father? I finished Lady Lambert's painting today, and her sister in law will come tomorrow for another commissioned work!"

"That is wonderful for you, Melissa, but don't expect your mother to change her mind. Once your new admirers return to England, things will revert to what they were."

Melissa looked at her father, and she saw that he sympathised with her. But what he said was true, nonetheless. She knew that after those last exhilarating days, it would be even harder for her to accept that. She suddenly realised that her decision had already been made for her.

"Father, there is something I need to tell you. Lady Lambert has invited me to go to England with her. She and her husband, Lord Lambert, offered to sponsor me, to introduce me to other artists. With such support, I may be able to support myself with my art. I would also cease to be an embarrassment to mother."

Her father was clearly surprised, even shocked, at this new development. And he seemed saddened. After a while, he spoke, trying to keep his voice even.

"That might be the chance you have been waiting for, Melissa. I saddens me that you feel you have to go to such extremes in your pursuit of fulfilment, yet I can see your reasoning. Understand, though, that I cannot allow you to travel as a protégé and dependant of some English nobleman. I flatter myself that I can look after my children with the proceeds from my honest trade. I shall give you the funds for the journey and an allowance. No daughter of mine will live on an alimony from an English aristocrat! I only ask you to write to me as often as possible."

Melissa had tears in her eyes. She had never realised just how much her father doted on her. She bent over his desk and buried her face in his chest. Sighing, he contemplated how to tell his wife. She would not take kindly to this new development, of that, he was sure. He knew that his wife disapproved of Lady Lambert, not because of any republican ideals, but because of the openly displayed beauty of the young woman and the sensuality she exuded.

Personally, Mr. Martin admitted to himself that it was Lady Lambert's appearance that had given him quite an urge to visit a house of convenience, an urge to which he had succumbed with more satisfaction than he had felt in a long time.

-------

It was the next afternoon, and Eleanor was reclining in a seemingly relaxed pose on a chaise longue. An open book on her leg, she was supposed to look into the air with a dreamy expression, while Melissa Martin was busy sketching her. Finally satisfied with the layout, she laid aside the charcoal stick. Ellen and Colleen MacAllister sat in the background, watching and talking in low voices. The knock on her door surprised Melissa as she did not expect any visitors.

When she opened the door, the furious expression on her mother's face told her that her father had broken the news with her.

"What do I hear, you ungrateful wench? Going away with your fancy friends? I knew that this loose woman would not be good for you! Lady Lambert! What Lady would dress like her? And now she is corrupting you! But wait! I will give her my mind."

"Why don't you start right away, Mrs. Martin?" Ellen spoke up, appearing behind Melissa.

"What are you doing here?" Mrs. Martin demanded belligerently.

"I hardly think that I am answerable to you, Mrs. Martin. Now, would you care to elaborate on those comments you made about me?"

"You heard me! No real lady would dress like you, flaunting her bosom, inciting immoral thoughts in the men!"

"Mrs. Martin, what would you know about real ladies?" Ellen countered. "Your behaviour today bespeaks a deplorable lack of self-restraint and tact, and yet you undertake to judge other women? You also conspire against your own flesh and blood. What mother would do that? Don't you see that you are driving her away? Your daughter has a God-given talent, and it would be a sin for her talent to be suppressed."

"She does not need that talent you speak of. She should marry a decent man and have children."

"That is not what I want from my life, mother," Melissa stated calmly. "I must ask you to leave now. You have caused enough embarrassment as it is. I cannot be what you want me to. It is better I leave town so you won't have to be embarrassed over me any more. If you possess an ounce of decency, though, you will apologise to Lady Lambert who has been nothing but helpful to me. As for corrupting me, she is a married woman expecting her first child. Isn't that exactly what you want me to be? How can she corrupt me when I am the one with unnatural desires? You know about that, mother. If I stay here, it will become known one way or the other."

Felicity Martin stared at her defiant daughter, turning pale. The thought that Melissa's proclivities might become common knowledge was nothing short of horrifying. Better to be shot of her entirely!

"Go then, and live out your depravity in the decadence of London. Maybe that pervert, Byron, will include you in his shameless circles. Go, but don't ever come back!"

"How dare you speak ill of the late Lord Byron!" Colleen was facing down Mrs. Martin, spoiling for a fight. "He was a giant, a genius. He died a hero, too, for the freedom of Greece. I dare you to besmirch his name again!"

For a moment, Ellen thought Mrs. Martin would attack Colleen, but she shrank back. Tearing open the door, Mrs. Martin left the apartment and stomped downstairs. Melissa did not dare to look at the other women, but then she felt Ellen's hand under her chin, and, to her astonishment, she saw her grin.

"Unnatural desires?" she asked with arched brows.

Melissa was crestfallen.

"You would have found out anyway, I'm sorry. I look at women as a man would, I cannot help it. But please believe me, I would have never dared to insult you!"

Ellen laughed brightly. "But I knew that, right from the first moment. Most women, when they first look at me, they are guarded. Men, on the other hand, show desire or embarrassment. You showed desire. Do not fret about it, though. You cannot change who you are. And it does not change what I think of you."

"You would still have me as your protégé?"

"But of course! Besides, without an appreciation of the female form, you could have never painted me the way you did."

Colleen had calmed.

"I'm sorry I made a scene, Miss Martin. I want you to know that nothing of what I heard would make me think ill of you. On the contrary; I admire your art and your courage."

Something important happened in this moment, Ellen realised. Fascinated, she watched as Melissa took Colleen's hands in hers and held them for a few seconds. No words were spoken, but Ellen knew that a bond was tied between the shy poet and the lively painter

-------

There was still one thing Richard and Ellen had to do in Boston. At the office of a shipping company, they were able to retrieve the temporary address of one Annabelle Fourtnoy, née Charlene Beckham. It was a hotel, and the receptionist was able to tell them that Miss Fourtnoy had taken a position as nanny in the household of Mr. James Perceval Andrews, solicitor. Therefore, on one of their last afternoons in Boston, Lord and Lady Lambert called upon Mrs. Andrews, introduced themselves and asked whether Miss Fourtnoy was still in her employ.

To say Mrs. Andrews was enthusiastic about receiving a visit from a real life Lord and Lady would have been inadequate. She ushered the visitors in, informing them that Miss Fourtnoy was still strolling with the children and would be back in an hour.

"We are so glad to have her!" she enthused. "She has been with us for only half a year, but she has become far more than an employee to us, well at least to me. You know, at first I was reluctant, she is quite pretty and all, and I suspected my husband had certain motives when hiring her. But I can say nothing but good things about her. And my husband had to realise that she is morally principled."

Ellen and Richard had a hard time to conceal their merriment. The loquacious Mrs. Andrews obviously has no inhibitions to discuss her husbands philandering tendencies with strangers, and to hear her call the former Miss Beckham 'morally principled' was almost too funny.

"And how, if I may ask, did you get to know Miss Fourtnoy?"

Without blushing, Richard answered.

"Miss Fourtnoy has done me and my family great service on more than one occasion."

"But why did she leave her home then? She says she cannot speak about it."

"Madam, I do not feel free to speak about the personal lives of the friends of my family. I am sure you will understand the merits of discretion."

Mrs. Andrews nodded enthusiastically, and Ellen had to bite into her kerchief to prevent a giggling attack. Luckily, the sound of children's voices announced the return of Miss Fourtnoy and her charges. Mrs. Andrews rushed into the foyer.

"Annabelle, my dear, you will not guess who is here!" they heard her gush. "Your old friend, Lord Lambert and his wife! You should have told me that you were intimate with nobility. The way you talked, I thought you were a simple girl."

Haltingly, Annabelle Fourtnoy entered the salon. Richard was astonished. The girl had changed. Gone were the gaudy dresses, gone was the colourful makeup. Her curly blond hair was bound in a tasteful bun, and her grey dress was nothing short of elegant. Even her once colourful speech was tamed into something resembling British English.

"Milord! I am astonished to see you here," she spoke up, carefully choosing her words.

"We are visiting Boston on family business, and I could not come here without seeing you and thanking you again for your services. By the way, you have not met my wife yet. Ellen dear, this is Miss Fourtnoy with whom you had correspondence once, I fancy. Miss Fourtnoy, my wife Ellen."

A truly beaming smile broke out on the young woman's face when she grasped the implications.

"I am very pleased to meet you in person, Lady Lambert," she said nicely.

Instead of answering, Ellen stepped forward and took the other woman in her arms. Releasing her, she looked into her eyes.

"And I want to take this opportunity to express my heartfelt thanks to you. I you ever need a friend, let me know."

Annabelle, as we should call her now, was simply speechless. But she also realised why the young Lord Lambert had been so resistant to her own charms. Who needed her services when he was to marry this woman? It was not just the looks, but her inherent friendly nature that impressed Annabelle and she smiled at Ellen shyly.

"Why don't we have some tea?" Mrs. Andrews asked, eager to prevent her illustrious visitors from leaving. While the mistress of the house left to give instructions, Richard heeded a look by his wife and left the room briefly. Alone with the woman, Ellen took her hands again.

"Charlene," she said in a low voice. "There is no way I can ever repay you. But I want you to have this."

From her purse, Ellen pulled a three-tiered pearl necklace and fastened it around the former whore's neck.

"Three tiers of pearls, Charlene, for the three times you helped us. And I meant it: when ever you need my help, call upon me."

Finally, Charlene found her voice back.

"I cannot say how happy I am that you and Lord Lambert are united again. I felt so bad about my part. And yes, there is something you, or rather your husband can do. I have a cousin, you see, and she is still in London, doing what I did. I don't know whether you understand my meaning, milady."

Grinning, Ellen patted her belly that showed a small protrusion.

"I ought to know what you are talking about."

"Would it be possible to find her? I want her to come here, to me, to start a new life. I still have most of your husband's money, and I will pay for the journey. But somebody needs to find her and tell her where I am."

"What is your cousin's name then?" Ellen asked simply.

"Suzie Potter. And she works in the Treasure Trove, off Driver's Alley."

Ellen patted her hand.

"We shall find her and relay your message. And we shall help her so she may join you."

Just then, Mrs. Andrews came back, and the two young women briefly pressed each other's hand to seal their agreement.

-------

Mr. Martin kept his word to his daughter and paid the fare for the cabin in the Amelia Anne. He and his wife had another argument about this but for once, he prevailed. He also arranged for a sufficient allowance to be forwarded to a London bank house.

The MacAllisters, too, prepared to leave, and Colleen was too busy now to visit Melissa and watch the progress of Eleanor's portrait. Meanwhile, Richard and Ellen visited the various salons and soirees, doing their best to leave good impressions with the important and wealthy people. They gave another interview to a major newspaper, and Richard presented himself as a champion of unrestricted trade, a view that sat well with Boston's merchants and the politicians who represented them. In his final report, Colonel MacAllister was able to inform his superiors that the visit of young Lord Lambert and his wife had enchanted Boston and created a noticeable improvement of the perception of all things British.

On the eve of their departure, his Excellency the Governor asked Richard and Ellen to another dinner, and Richard, after some coaching by Colonel MacAllister, delivered a well-received toast to the State of Massachussetts, the Governor, the Congress and the President. Ellen looked at her husband with appreciation. He had really grown up, she thought. He moved with confidence, he did not seek approval from everybody anymore, and he was attentive to her without being over-possessive. She began to suspect that their temporary breakup, for all the hurt they had both suffered, had done them much good in the long run. They had both seen the limits of each other and were able to avoid overstepping them. Most of all, Richard's successful work in the Foreign Office and, even more so, his secret but successful campaign against their common arch enemy, had done wonders for his self-esteem. When he had drunken to the health of their host one more time, and was seated again, Ellen bent over and whispered in his ear.

"I love you, and I am very proud of you!"

With great delight she noticed his blush and the beginning of a silly grin on his face, and she was happy that she was the one person who was still able to penetrate his veneer.



-------

Chapter 23: Home Again



When they boarded the Amelia Anne, they found the arrangements more cramped than on the westward journey. As a matter of fact, Richard and Ellen were the only ones with a private cabin, while Col. MacAllister shared the accommodation with Antonio. The other three women shared in a larger quarter, a fact that made Melissa Martin self-conscious.

Due to the cold of mid-November, the passengers were forced to spend most of their time in the main cabin where a coal basin radiated a modicum of warmth. They mostly sat huddled together under blankets, something the two couples did not mind at all. Colleen MacAllister had huddled with her father for the first day, but then she noticed Melissa sitting alone like the proverbial fifth wheel, and she offered Melissa her free side. Melissa's face competed with the coals in the basin when she sat close to the young woman.

On the second day, Colleen collected her courage and spoke to Antonio.

"Don Antonio, you may have heard that I aspire to being a writer. I find the story of your shipwreck, your rescue and your reunion with Miss Carter a fascinating tale. Would you allow me to write down your adventures? Not so much for publishing, but I would like to hone my skills and see what I can accomplish."

Antonio considered this. He had never thought his story would be of interest to anybody but his closest friends and family. He saw Colleen's eagerness, however, and her sincere interest and nodded slowly. For the next two days, he told her his story again while she took notes, her pen flying over the leafs of her notebook.

Eleanor listened with amused interest as the would-be writer asked pointed questions, asked him about his feelings, and tried to gather as much information as he could give her from memory. The kindly captain of the Amelia Anne sat with her and Antonio for another day, reconstructing Antonio's odyssey on his sea charts and helping Colleen understand the problems of seamanship.

Melissa spent most of that time sketching the people in the main cabin. Her fingers were sooty from the charcoal, and sometimes there were smudges on her cheeks where she had touched with her fingers. She delighted the other passengers and the captain with the portraits, and she basked in the praise she received.

Ellen, for her part, spent most of her time with Richard, as she had hoped. During those four weeks, they were inseparable. Richard spoke freely about his work, and Ellen developed a good understanding of her husband's responsibilities. Not for the first time, Richard noticed that his wife was blessed not only with good looks, but also with a sharp mind, a phenomenal memory and social skills. She had lost the naivety that been her hallmark during her first year in London and had replaced it with a quiet watchfulness.

He had noticed that, during their stay in Boston, Ellen had been reserved with the people they met, never revealing too much of herself, only opening up once, around Charlene Beckham. When Richard asked her about this, she considered it for a while, before she answered.

"I suppose, it has to do with the Binnings affair. I had to be guarded all the time, and now it has become a second nature. Is this bad?"

Richard laughed then. "You better be guarded. Can you trust me, at least?"

She kissed him, for an answer.

During the nights, they made love, trying to be as quiet as possible. They did not meet with complete success in this, as Eleanor gave them knowing smiles when they met for breakfast in the main cabin. Neither Ellen nor Richard cared, though. They had waited long enough, and soon, Ellen would proceed in her pregnancy to a point where those activities would have to be curbed. Thus, the somewhat uncomfortable crossing was a blessing in disguise for the young couple as it provided them with ample time to solidify their bond.

Twenty-three days after leaving Boston, the Amelia Anne sighted Quessant, and two days later, they were able to go ashore in London Harbour. The Amelia Anne had been sighted hours before, and the small group was met on the pier by Sir Anthony and Lady Carter and, of course, Doña Maria. They did not spend much time there, the weather being decidedly unfriendly, and Doña Maria left with her son and his fiancé for their house, while Richard and Ellen, with their protégé, Melissa, were delivered to their own home. Sir Anthony and Harriet Carter stayed for the afternoon while Richard and Ellen told them and Lady Lambert of their experiences and small adventures. Lady Lambert greeted the young American woman guardedly at first, but she soon thawed.

Ellen, of course, could not resist showing her family the painting Melissa had done, and it made a strong impression on everyone. Within minutes, Melissa had her next commissions. Lady Carter wanted to have a painting of herself with her mother and daughter, and she wanted a painting of her husband, in full admiral's uniform. Sir Anthony was reluctant and only relented when he saw that his wife was adamant about it.

Melissa was given a room on the second floor, towards the back and the garden, with tall windows and, accordingly, good light.

When all was said and done and a supper had been eaten, the travellers sank into their beds to enjoy their first night on shore.

The next morning, Ellen's first task was to visit Lucy, and she dragged Melissa along with her while Richard wanted to go to his office to get an idea of the work accumulated during his absence. Lucy was clearly overjoyed to have her stepdaughter back, and she questioned her meticulously about her pregnancy. Of course, Ellen had no problems. She still felt healthy and strong and, if anything, the expectation buoyed her spirits. She still had almost five months until her delivery date, but Lucy insisted on her seeing a midwife as soon as possible, a midwife she had handpicked, together with Harriet.

Lucy then turned her attention to Melissa.

"So, you are a painter? That must be exciting. I must bring you in contact with Lady Trimble. She is something of a painter herself, and she also has a salon to which she invites her fellow artists. You will find her a most charming person. Just do not expect too many young men in her salon. She is not disposed towards men, one could say."

Melissa stared disbelievingly at this woman who coolly discussed a woman "of deviant tastes".

"That should not bother me, Lady Wilkes," she said, taking the plunge. "I do not feel disposed towards men, either."

Lucy laughed. "She will eat you alive, then! She even went after me, and I have been married for over twenty years."

To say Melissa was astonished about this liberal mindset would be an understatement. She soon found out that bigotry was something completely lacking from Lucy Wilkes' character. When Ellen and Melissa left the Wilkes' house two hours later, Melissa could not help but think how different her life could have been had her mother been only a little like Lucy.

Back at the Lamberts' residence, they found old Lady Lambert, Lady Carter and Doña Maria planning another New Year's Eve reception. Ellen was astonished to see how far they already were; they had obviously started right after the departure of the Amelia Anne. Harriet apologised for infringing on Ellen's rights to the household, but Ellen merely laughed at that. This was just as much Lady Lambert's household as hers, and to have Eleanor's engagement celebrated in her home excited her.

Doña Maria had even succeeded to invite the Spanish Ambassador who was a cousin several times removed, but nonetheless. Doña Maria still felt she was Spanish, and she hoped to reconcile her son with her home country one day.

Ellen realised that the three elder women had left little for her to do, other than playing the hostess, and one of the most urgent tasks for her was to get a dress that accounted for her changing body. She was entering her fifth month, and on her slender frame, it started to show. Therefore she made an appointment with Elisabeth Wilson for the next morning.

She also dragged Melissa Martin along with her again.

"My dear Melissa, we must get you clothes that compliment you. This is London, not Boston, and people expect you to show how pretty you are. You will find that Elisabeth Wilson is the one person who will help you to achieve that."

Melissa, sitting in the fitting room of Wilson's Fashion, felt like a child in the proverbial candy store. Watching Ellen be fitted was a treat in itself. Her noticeable bulge combined with growing breasts and more rounded features into the most endearing image of a mother to be.

When it was Melissa's turn, Elisabeth Wilson had numerous cloth bales hauled from storage to find colours to complement Melissa's brown hair and eyes, and it was over two hours later that she and Ellen were satisfied. At this point, Melissa felt dizzy and she had no recollection just how many dresses had been ordered for her. Ellen, on the other hand, was in her element. She remembered her own first day in London, when Harriet and Lucy had taken charge of her, and she enjoyed being on the giving side for once.

On the way home, they stopped at the hotel where Sir Humbert and his daughter Colleen resided during their stay in London. Ellen had put them on the guest list for the engagement, seeing how helpful Sir Humbert had been.

Sir Humbert was out, but Colleen received them and the invitation. Ellen invited the girl for tea, the next afternoon, and Colleen accepted with a grateful smile.

After a brief lunch at home, Ellen dragged Melissa along to the Carters' house for tea. Harriet enjoyed the visit and they had tea in her private study. With a malicious gleam in her eyes, she invited the young artist to browse through the collection of prints and water colours that her first husband had left behind.

The Hogarth prints, of course, were something Melissa admired. She was not an engraver herself, but she appreciated the richness of the scenes depicted. When she viewed the contents of the special drawer, however, poor Melissa's eyes bugged out over the erotic prints and sketches. Never had she even thought about painting a nude person. Ellen had never seen this part of the collection either, and she was moved between excitement and amusement. She decided to ask Richard whether he had ever seen his mother's treasure. Some of those prints gave her pointers at yet undiscovered ways to find pleasure!

"How did the artist find models for this?" Melissa asked finally.

Harriet shrugged, and Ellen giggled.

"You will have to count me out on this, I am afraid."

Melissa blushed. "Please, I did not even think of this, really!" she protested.

Ellen smiled at her. "I know that. I was only jesting." She looked at a water colour, "The Judgement of Paris", with a young man who had to chose between the three goddesses, Hera, Artemis and Aphrodite, who were dressed in translucent garments. "Although, for a tasteful painting like that, I would even consider posing. That is, if I owned the picture afterwards."

Harriet smiled at her daughter in law.

"No doubt, you would pose as Aphrodite!" she said drily, causing Ellen to blush.

-------

One of the most profound discoveries Melissa made in her first week in London was that she could buy ready made painter's colours in tin tubes. There would be no grinding of colours and mixing with linseed oil. Now she could just squeeze colour on the palette, ready for painting. She immediately saw the advantages of this for painting outside. Landscapes, but also paintings of people outside, were now feasible as oil paintings rather than water colours.

An annex to the garden salon of the Lambert home, facing south, was cleared and furnished sparsely as Melissa's impromptu atelier. Melissa's first victim was Sir Anthony. Melissa had been unsure about the backdrop for the picture, and she asked him if there was an opportunity for her to make sketches on board a ship of war.

"I would really prefer to have an authentic backdrop, rather than having you pose in your uniform in front of a chair."

Sir Anthony smiled appreciatively. He had sat for a painter before, in his full parade uniform, and it had been a mind-numbing experience. To pose on board a man o'war was something entirely different, though. A thought came to his mind.

"My old ship, the Clyde was recently moored in the Pool. They talk about breaking her up, but she is still shipping her lower masts and standing rigging. How much time would you need?"

"Two hours of daylight at most," Melissa answered, excited about this new challenge.

As a matter of fact, the entire family, save for old Lady Lambert, accompanied them to the Pool and on board the Clyde. Even Doña Maria and her son came along after Maria had talked to Harriet about it.

She was still a magnificent example of a frigate, Sir Anthony decided. He had had some of his greatest moments on these decks. These planks had drunk his blood once, and in the cabin, he had spent that one night with Doña Maria. He could not help thinking about this and he stole guilty glances at his wife. Harriet had never seen the Clyde, but she understood her husband's bond with the old ship.

It was a sunny December afternoon, and Melissa drank in the sights. She sketched the different views and asked Sir Anthony to take up various positions on the quarter deck, and even in the main cabin. She then asked whether he would agree to pose in an everyday uniform. She wanted to paint him 'at work', and Sir Anthony agreed to search for his outdated captain's coat.

For the next days, Melissa worked feverishly on the backdrop, the Clyde's quarter deck with the steering wheel. She even went back to the dock, accompanied by John Little, to get a few angles right. The work was interrupted by the Christmas celebration, but in the days thereafter, Sir Anthony posed as captain, while John Little, on Sir Anthony's insistence, posed as quarter master on the wheel, wearing his old uniform. The painting was finished shortly before New Year's Eve, and Melissa felt awed when she saw it mounted on the wall in the dining hall of the Lamberts' house where all the guests would see it.

December 31, saw the Lambert household in a mad activity. Old Lady Lambert directed the efforts, and the younger women of the family worked the details until, in late afternoon, the arrangements were complete.

The guests started to arrive around seven o'clock, and they were received by Ellen and Richard, with Old Lady Lambert, Harriet and Sir Anthony to their side. Eleanor and Antonio stood to the side, same as Emily Lambert who was attending her first social function after Richard's and Ellen's wedding. She had finally dropped her mourning dresses and was wearing a burgundy dress that complimented her light complexion.

Sir Humbert MacAllister arrived with his daughter and in his regimental uniform, the only army uniform in a sea of blue. He greeted Richard and Ellen with the familiarity borne out of sharing the tight living quarters in the Amelia Anne for four weeks, he bowed to Lady Lambert, he exchanged pleasantries with Sir Anthony and Lady Carter, again had a familiar greeting with Antonio and Eleanor, and finally stood to face Emily Lambert.

Now, with the help of Ellen and Eleanor, shy and self-conscious Emily Lambert had been transformed back into the pretty girl she had been. She had lost some weight in the last two years, adding to the impression of youth, and her blonde hair, usually in a strict bun, was now framing her face in soft waves. She looked younger than her thirty-three years, and Sir Humbert was immediately taken by the attractive widow. Emily, in her turn, was impressed with the tall man whose reddish hair and beard clashed violently with the scarlet of his uniform coat. Suddenly, she was glad that the younger women had given her a makeover.

The ever watchful eye of Lady Lambert noticed things like this, as did Ellen. The two women exchanged a knowing look and a smile before Ellen spoke to the old butler. When the guest assembled in the dining hall, Sir Humbert found himself a table partner of Emily Lambert.

While the guests were looking for their seat cards, an exclamation made them look up.

"By Jove! The old Clyde's quarter deck! Sir Anthony, where did you get this?"

The question came from another old friend, Rear Adm. Sir Cyril Fortescue, as a captain Sir Anthony's successor in the Clyde. Sir Cyril had received a warm greeting by Doña Maria, but also from Harriet Carter who had both met him first during his time as Sir Anthony's First Lieutenant.

Sir Anthony laughed self-consciously.

"It's a new painting; it was only finished the other day. We went down to the old Clyde in the Pool to get the background right. The artist is here, by the way. Miss Martin, would you kindly show yourself? Ladies, Gentlemen, this is Miss Melissa Martin from Boston. She is a very talented young artist, and she has created this painting."

A smatter of applause rose, and Melissa bowed, blushing just a little. The appreciative comments she had heard were soothing to her nerves and she was becoming less self-conscious.

"Those were fine days in the Clyde!" Sir Cyril stated. "I hated the day when I had to leave her. What will happen to her? They will not break up such a fine ship?"

"I'm afraid they will, Cyril. I'm trying to prevent this, though."

"Please let me know if I can help!" Sir Cyril offered. "It would a shame."

A general murmur rose from the assembled Navy officers about the sorry state of the service, and the state of disrepair many fine ships had fallen into.

"Heureka!" another Navy man, Sir Edward Rotheram, exclaimed. "Why not buy her for scrap value? We could buy her without ordnance and anchor her in the Pool. Make a club of her, membership restricted to old sea dogs who have at least one major engagement to their credit."

"Make that one successful engagement!" Lord Brougham added, to everyone's laughter.

A murmur rose, and by the time the main course was finished, some seven officers were committed to the cause. Sir Edward promised to preside over the initiative.

Harriet Lambert looked at her husband with amusement, he rarely sought the company of his former comrades, and now he was to become a charter member to an exclusive club. It would do him good, she decided, to get more involved with his profession, although she dreaded the possibility that he might be offered a command overseas.

After dinner, the room was cleared while the gentlemen and ladies retired to separate rooms for cigars and tea, respectively. It was close to eleven o'clock when the dance began, opened by Sir Anthony and Harriet. The hour until midnight passed quickly, and when the church bells rang to greet the New Year, a toast was drunk by the assembled guests. After that, Sir Anthony asked Maria Ruiz for the next dance, while a smiling Harriet danced with Don Antonio. When that dance ended, Sir Anthony asked for attention, and together with Doña Maria, he announced the official engagement of Eleanor and Antonio.

The next dance was for Antonio and Eleanor, and the way the two young people glided over the dance floor, oblivious to the chatter around them, it was clear to everybody that this would be a marriage of love. After that, the beaming couple had to endure the congratulations of everybody present, and by the time they were finished, the first guests were leaving.

Melissa Martin was tired, too. She had been approached by several guests about portraits, and she carried a number of visiting cards of people she would have to see over the next week. Colleen MacAllister had been with her for most of the time, and the two young women enjoyed a few moments alone to exchange their experiences after the first weeks in London.

Emily Lambert, for her part, was basking in the attention paid to her by Sir Humbert. He had basically placed a claim on her all evening, but Emily did not mind at all. He was a well educated, cultivated man of the world, who was able to talk and to listen equally well, and the attention he showed to her was flattering.

From time to time, Emily looked self-consciously at her mother in law, but old Lady Lambert gave her encouraging smiles. It was with regret from both sides that they noticed that the other guests were leaving.

"Will you be staying in London, Milady?" Sir Humbert inquired.

"For a few weeks, yes. My nephew and his wife have asked me to stay longer, and I enjoy being with them."

"May I come and visit you then? Perhaps we could have tea?"

"Certainly, Sir Humbert. This has been a delightful evening for me, and I must thank you for your company."

Just then, Old Lady Lambert drifted by.

"Sir Humbert, we shall have a late breakfast tomorrow, or rather later in the day. Would you care to share it with us? Of course, you should bring your charming daughter, too."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Milady!"

"Then I shall expect you at eleven? Splendid!"

"I am looking forward to seeing you, then, Sir Humbert," Emily smiled, and Sir Humbert kissed her hand.

"I shall take my leave then, Lady Lambert. Thank you for a very pleasant evening."

Sir Humbert collected his daughter who also bade her farewell to the hosts, and they left for their hotel. Emily stood with a dreamy smile on her face, only to be startled when Ellen hugged her.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Ellen asked with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Sir Humbert is a very nice man."

Emily looked at her nephew's wife accusingly. "Did you set me up with him, or was it Lady Lambert?"

Ellen giggled. "Which one? There are three of us."

Emily smiled. "You know who I meant. Who set me up?"

"We were both in collusion over this," Ellen beamed. "Poor Sir Humbert was so smitten with you. So we changed the seating arrangements."

Emily shook her head, but she could not maintain the facade of indignation.

"Well, no harm was done, I suppose. And he really is a nice man."

It was a little after three o'clock when the last guests had left and the family retired to their rooms. Eleanor left with the Carters while Antonio and his mother returned to their residence.

"Why Emily, you look radiant tonight," Old Lady Lambert remarked to her daughter in law who blushed slightly.

"Well, I had a good time."

The old woman patted the widow's hand.

"That is good, my dear. You really should return to the living now. Life must go on." And then, a rare thing, she hugged her daughter in law. "You were a good wife to Andrew, and you are a wonderful mother to my grandchildren. We all want to see you happy again. It is not a crime to strive for happiness, you know?"

-------

Ellen and Richard had gone to bed, and the house had quieted down.

"Sir Humbert and Emily seemed to have taken to each other," Ellen remarked to her husband.

Richard was silent for a moment, reflecting on what Ellen had said.

"I suppose, Aunt Emily could do worse. If Colleen is any indication, Sir Humbert is a good father. And Lord knows, the four girls could use a father. By the way, did I tell you how ravishing you looked today?"

"No, but go ahead!" Ellen laughed in the dark.

"Where did the modest girl go that stood wet and bedraggled in our barn, asking for pasture for her sheep? When I think of how you looked in that soaked wool coat and broad rimmed hat! And your feet were swimming in those big boots. But you were so lovely that my heart ached."

"Your heart was not the only thing that ached," Ellen quipped.

"You have no idea!" Richard answered.

"You gave me a pretty good idea the next day," she smiled in the dark, only to feel Richard stiffen beside her. "Oh no, darling, I shouldn't have said that. Do not fret about that incident anymore. I meant to jest, really. Forgive my insensitivity."

To make up for her faux pas, he kissed his throat with small kisses, working her way down to his chest. Her hand sought out his member, half erect as it was, and she began to stroke him with slow movements. Moving further down, her mouth found the tip of his penis and sucked it in.

Richard groaned when her mouth and hands found a steady rhythm, stroking and sucking his member, and he felt himself responding strongly to her ministrations. After only a few minutes he held her face up and pulled her up.

He kissed her, burying his hands in her loose hair, and then lifted the hem of her nightshirt. She straddled him now, and she felt the stiff member at her nether lips, demanding entry. With a sigh, she aligned the tip between her lips and impaled herself carefully on the rigid shaft. She was mindful not to let him penetrate too deeply, and Richard himself held back as well. Their child was growing inside his lovely wife, and he restricted his lunges into her depths.

She felt different, now that her pregnancy progressed. More soft inside, more responsive. His hands roamed over her breasts which had begun to swell somewhat, with enlarged nipples that were more sensitive than ever. It was a pity the room was dark! He very much enjoyed the view of Ellen riding him with that look of concentration she always had. He felt her movements gain in urgency, and the moans that came from her throat also increased as her rotating pelvis caused the most delicious feelings.

Richard pulled himself up to kiss and suckle her breasts, and happy squeals came from her mouth that was open now and panting. The he latched his mouth and teeth to the side of her neck, just underneath her left ear, and Ellen shuddered, the peak of her lust washing over her. Her canal gripped his member with pulsing spasms, and a few moments later, Richard gave way to his own urges and released his seed into Ellen's womb.

Minutes after that, they lay spoon-fashion, snuggling against each other.

"I love you, Ellen," he whispered into her hair from behind.

"Mhm," came Ellen's satisfied response. She was already drifting into sleep, and Richard hugged her from behind, trying to convey his love to his already sleeping wife.





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Chapter 24: Paying a Call



It was a few days after New Year when a visitor was announced at Lambert House. Ellen was sitting with Richard's grandmother when the butler brought them the visiting card. It was a Mister Jameson. She knew the name; he had been Marjorie Binnings' barrister. At Ellen's nod, the butler admitted the man to the study where the two women were sitting. He came in and stood with his hat before his chest.

"Milady, thank you for granting me this interview."

"I was not aware that I granted an interview, Mr. Jameson," Ellen corrected him. "Would you please state your business?"

Mr. Jameson swallowed the rebuke in good grace.

"Well, milady, my client, Mrs. Binnings, is still held in Newgate prison, awaiting her deportation. She has asked for the privilege to speak with you in private, to clear up a few issues between her and your ladyship."

Ellen thought about it. She smelled a rat. Something was not right, she was sure. Binnings hated her, so why would she want to talk to her?

"Mr. Jameson," she finally said, "I am afraid that this is not a tempting proposition. Your client has professed her enmity against me in her trial. Why would she want to speak with me? Why should I visit a prison to talk to a person who has repeatedly tried to harm me?"

"Well, I do not really know, but I suppose that she may want to make amends for her previous behaviour. She has had some time to think about her mistakes. In spite of what you may think, Mrs. Binnings..."

"Mr. Jameson," Old Lady Lambert suddenly interrupted, "I hardly think that your client should be referred to as Mrs. Binnings. She is a convicted thief and does not warrant the address of a gentlewoman."

Jameson swallowed.

"Very well, milady. Could you find it in your heart, though, to pay a farewell visit to a repentant woman?"

"I shall have to discuss this with my husband, and I am sure he will consult our own attorney. I can tell you right away that I will not be alone with her in one room. She has displayed a hostile attitude towards me, and I am with child. For my safety, and for the safety of my unborn child, I would have to insist on solid iron bars to separate me from that woman. This only in the case that my husband will allow me such an enterprise."

"And when, milady, can we hope to have your decision?"

"That will depend on my husband, Mr. Jameson. He will inform you of our decision."

"Thank you indeed for your time, milady. I shall await your decision then."

Jameson bowed politely and left the study. Ellen shook her head and opened her mouth to voice her astonishment, but Old Lady Lambert's raised hand bade her to be silent. With a smooth movement that belied her age, the old woman glided over the carpet and to the door. When she opened the door, Mr. Jameson nearly fell over, and he blushed furiously.

"I was, err, waiting for your butler to show me out."

"Certainly," Lady Lambert stated, the single word dripping from her pursed lips and conveying her contempt more strongly than a whole litany. "Oldroyd!"

The butler showed immediately and bowed.

"Show this... err, gentleman to the door."

She turned around without a further word to the man.

"How did you know, grandmother?" Ellen asked, her head tilted.

"Intuition, my darling. Don't you think for a minute that Binnings wants to beg forgiveness. They want to set you up, or Richard, for that matter. She will try to provoke you to admit that you and Richard conspired against her, and they will probably have witnesses sitting within hearing."

"Then what should I do?"

"That is entirely up to you, my dear. You can simply act the concerned mother-to-be and refuse to go through the emotional ordeal of visiting a prison, or you can go and avoid the trap. The former is easy, the latter may be entertaining."

Ellen knew what the old woman was implying, but she decided to wait for Richard. Indeed, Richard had a strong opinion on the matter.

"You will not face that woman other than in my company. God knows what she may try, and you are far too precious to me to risk anything."

The other side indeed agreed to that condition, and the visit was arranged for the next Sunday afternoon. Ellen and Richard were shown into a room that was partitioned by solid iron bars, and they sat on two bare wooden chairs. A look around confirmed their suspicion. Under the ceiling, they saw a vent-hole that obviously connected to an adjacent room.

Richard smiled to himself. He had brought along a witness of his own, Commander Wilson, an Admiralty officer in charge of counterintelligence. In fact, Cmdr. Wilson was none other than the erstwhile Volunteer Samuel Wilson, brother of Elisabeth Wilson. The Commander would ostensibly guard the door to the room, but he also carried a listening device in the form of a short trumpet to pick up the conversation in the cell through the solid door. He had a warrant from a judge to listen in, on the grounds that Marjorie Binnings had been accused of high treason.

Marjorie Binnings was led into the room through a door in the back of the cell, and she sat on a chair, facing the two young people. They stared at each other for a few moments until Ellen broke the silence.

"Well, Binnings, you wanted to talk to me. Go ahead!"

Hatred shot through the older woman's eyes.

"So I am just Binnings to you now?" she asked.

"How do you expect me to address a thief?" Ellen countered coolly. She could see the other woman's hands clench the cloth of her prison garb.

"A thief, oh yes. You two set me up perfectly. How does it feel to have exacted your revenge?"

Ellen tilted her head and looked innocently.

"What do you mean by that? You stole a letter from my husband's coat. You admitted that. Because of that, you were sentenced to deportation like other any other thief. I am satisfied, of course, that justice was served, but nobody set you up."

"Oh please! You were perfect, both of you, I admit it. Young Lord Lambert's indignation and your blue-eyed, teary innocence, who could stand up to you before those jurors? But this is just between us now. At least admit to it and do not insult my intelligence!"

Ellen could not hold back her derisive snort. Some intelligence!

"Binnings, nobody conspired against you. Nobody set you up. You did that to yourself! It was your scheming that set you up for a fall, you must realise that! The first time, you lost your paramour. The second time, my husband's love for me was too strong for him to fall into your trap. And the third time, you got finally caught in your scheming, earning you the deportation. Wake up! This was all your fault. By the way, why on earth do you hate me so much? What did I do to you? I looked up to you in admiration in my first days in London; I aspired to be your friend, but you, without hesitation, set me up to lose my honour with Finney."

For the first time, Binnings let down her mask.

"Why do I hate you? Because this damnable cur, Finney, told me that it was over between us. On the evening before the duel, before he was killed by this stupid boy, he told me that he was leaving me. That he would ask for your hand and change his life. The gall of it! And then he gets himself killed by a boy, no doubt thinking of you in his last moments! And you ask me why I hate you?"

Ellen shook her head.

"Wake up. The man had been using you for years to sate his hunger for innocent girls. You had been feeding them to him, knowing full well that their future was destroyed. Like you would have let him destroy my future. Make no mistake, I am not angry with you. My life turned out better than I could ever hope for," here, Richard thought, Binnings would explode with fury, "and your futile attempts to bring us apart even served the opposite, tightening our bond. All your scheming availed you nothing but misery, and I can only advise you to better your ways. Look at me: I treat everybody as friendly as I can, and I lead a happy life. Now, look at yourself: always trying to put people down, and now you have reached bottom yourself. You still have a chance, though. New South Wales is not a prison. You may yet find a new husband and some happiness. Do not destroy that chance with that hatred."

Ellen stood up, looking at the woman who was in turn staring at her incredulously.

"Fare the well," she said, and then, for the benefit of those listening in, she managed to add the coup de grace with a straight face. "Let the love for your fellow men enter your heart again and embrace the gospel. Jesus, our Lord, said there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent."

Escorted by her husband, Lady Lambert left the cell to find a sour-looking Mr. Jameson in the anteroom. Ellen walked up to him.

"She is much in need of spiritual support. I shall sent her a prayer book to help her over the long journey."

Smiling sweetly at the men, she directed her steps to the door, followed by Richard and Cmdr. Wilson, and leaving the speechless Mr. Jameson in her wake.

On the way back into the City, she maintained the facade of virtue until they had dropped off Cmdr. Wilson at the Admiralty. They invited him to tea for the next Sunday when Sir Anthony and his wife would be there as well. When they were alone, Richard grinned at his wife who sat shaking with silent laughter.

"You are a wicked woman, Ellen. You baited her mercilessly."

She smiled smugly first, but then turned sober.

"Well, Richard, it may have sounded like baiting to you, and it was for most of the time, but I really meant what I said about her leaving her hatred behind. She has really destroyed her life with it."

-------

They never heard of Marjorie Binnings again, nor of the affair surrounding her. The transport to New South Wales left the Downs three weeks later. She never returned to England, but she did not find happiness there, either. After just one year in Sydney, she was stabbed to death by another woman in a dispute over a man.

-------

Meeting Cmdr. Wilson had an advantageous side effect. Wilson had, by nature of his profession, a wide variety of contacts in London's underworld. Thieves and forgers and whores were all part of the network of sources and helpers Cmdr. Wilson needed, to conduct his business as head of counter intelligence. It was no problem for him, therefore, to find a young woman named Suzie Potter. This even though she did not work from the Treasure Trove anymore.

A few weeks after Ellen's visit with Marjorie Binnings, Wilson showed up at the Lamberts' mansion, a gaily painted young woman in tow. With an amused smile, Ellen thanked Cmdr. Wilson for his troubles and bade the girl enter. Young Suzie was apprehensive, for Cmdr. Wilson had not told her very much.

After thanking Cmdr. Wilson, Ellen led the young girl into the kitchens where she was given food first. Ellen watched her eat, and she saw a likeness to Charlene Beckham under the paint.

"You are probably asking yourself what I may want of you," she began.

Suzie shook her head.

"Them all wants the same of me, men or women," she answered in a low voice.

"Well, not me, Suzie," Ellen smiled. "Your cousin Charlene sends her love."

Suspicion was in Suzie's eyes when she answered through gritted teeth.

"I know nothing of Charlene. Haven't seen 'er in a year."

"Of course, you haven't, Suzie," Ellen said soothingly. "Have you been bothered because of her?"

"Bothered? Hah! Black Jeremiah nigh on kilt me," the girl expostulated. "An' I know nothing, honestly! 'e an' 'is friends 'ad me for a week. Master Jennings, 'e saved me, bought me back from Black Jeremiah."

"Who is Master Jennings then?" Ellen inquired.

"'e owns the Treasure Trove. I owe 'im with me life."

"I shall see to it that he will receive proper compensation," Ellen said thoughtfully. Her insides churned however with the mental image of the frail girl in the hands of a band of ruffians. She had heard Charlene's story from Richard, and she had heard enough about Jeremiah Cook to sympathise with Suzie.

"Well, Suzie, Charlene wants you to join her. She is in safety, and she has found proper work in a household. She wants to take care of you. You would have to leave everything behind, but those people would never bother you again."

"Where is she?" Suzie asked.

"Please, you have to understand that I can only tell you about her whereabouts once you have committed yourself. Charlene really wants you with her, and you can turn your back on London."

Suzie thought only briefly. I would be known now that she had been picked up by the mysterious Commander, and Jeremiah Cook would question her again. She felt a shudder. Never again!

"I'll go," she said in a strong voice.

"Fine, Suzie. Over the next weeks, until your ship will leave, I shall place you under the care of some friends of mine. They will see to it that you will be properly dressed, and they shall provide you with a teacher who will teach how to speak and act properly. This will be your best cover."

Ellen pulled the bell rope, and a few moments later, John Little appeared.

"This is Charlene's cousin, milady?" he asked while Suzie gaped at the tall African.

"Yes, she is. Thank you, Mr. Little. I shall leave all the other arrangements in your able hands."

John Little bowed to Ellen, but it was more of a friendly gesture than a formal bow, and his smile was returned by Ellen.

"Suzie, Mr. Little and his family will take care of you. In a few weeks, he will see you on a ship bound for America. There you will be met by Charlene. Never worry about this Jeremiah Cook character; he will be taken care of."

Suzie left with John Little and lived with his family until, five weeks later, transport to Boston was arranged. For all we know, she met her cousin and found work in the same household. That is at least what she wrote in a letter to Ellen in which she thanked her for the help, a letter, Ellen never saw until three years later.

As for the esteemed Mr. Cook, Ellen had a meeting with Cmdr. Wilson a fortnight later. Nobody has a way of knowing what this meeting really precipitated, but suddenly, Jeremiah Cook found himself at the centre of attention by the constabulary, and an early morning raid on his premises discovered a hoard of stolen goods and even some sloppily buried human remains. One of his lieutenants, trying to save his own neck, turned witness for the crown, and two months later, Jeremiah Cook's criminal career met with "a short drop and a sudden stop" at Newgate Prison.

Samuel Wilson may have had a hand in this. Harriet Carter spoke to Lady Rotheram, andf that made the new First Sea Lord, Sir Edward Rotheram, notice Cmdr. Wilson and his considerable experience in intelligence. After the necessary short stint, commanding a frigate, freshly posted Captain Samuel Wilson took up a position as Naval Attaché at the British Embassy in Paris. We can easily assume that Captain Wilson was overjoyed over this career boost, and he proved his gratitude later in life.



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Chapter 25: The Most Honourable Anthony Carter

Over the January and February of 1830, the seven women in the family planned the events of the spring and early summer meticulously. Lucy and Harriet hand-picked a midwife for Ellen, and an agency was to look for a wet nurse come May, the likely time for the birth.

Accordingly, Eleanor's wedding was planned for mid-June, to give Ellen a few weeks to recover. Like Richard and Ellen, Eleanor and Antonio would have their wedding in the church of Matcham Village. Meanwhile, on the former estate of Mr. Tremont, but close to High Matcham, a new manor was being built, named for its proximity to a ford in the river, Oxford Manor. The construction was expected to be finished by May, having started almost two years ago, and Sir Anthony, with his future son in law, spent a sizeable amount of time supervising the final efforts.

Another big news was the promotion of Sir Anthony to Vice-Admiral of the Blue. The announcement was made in early March, together with an advisory by the First Sea Lord, Sir Thomas Hardy, that Sir Anthony should expect to be employed again. This set off alarm bells with Harriet Carter who, together with her mother, began to use her contacts to influence possible postings for her husband. Luckily for her, sea commands for a Vice-Admiral were rare in these days and reserved for the most senior admirals. Sir Anthony played down the possibilities and pointed out that even with a sea command, he would spend most of his time in a home base. Harriet and her mother campaigned for a posting as Governor for one of the smaller island colonies, but there were no openings. The other option would be the posts of Harbour Admiral or Shipyard Commands, neither of which were really tempting.

In the meantime, Richard had authored a review of the situation in India with recommendations how to improve the British rule there and how to curb the power of the East India Company. His views found support with the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and with other cabinet members, and he was appointed to a commission charged with drafting a new Charter Act for the East India Company. This was a highly complex and contested piece of legislation, and it would take Richard almost two years' work to draft the new Charter Act (which was eventually passed by Parliament in 1833). However, in the course of this work, the commission would have to visit India for a period of time, possibly over the next winter.

All this created no small excitement in the family. Ellen had been doing quite well in her pregnancy. She was a healthy young woman, and in contrast to many of her contemporaries, she had a loving husband who doted on her and showered her with his affection. Therefore, the prospect of Richard travelling to India affected her strongly. She did not start any tirades, but she voiced her trepidation to Lucy and to Harriet, and the latter alerted Richard to his wife's worries.

That evening, after dinner, Richard led his wife to their living room where he let her sit in a chaise longue while he moved a low divan to sit close to her.

"Ellen, darling, Mother told me of your worries," he began, caressing her thigh with his hand.

Ellen made a face.

"She shouldn't have bothered you with my petty fears," she said, but she was relieved to see the concern in his eyes.

"No, she shouldn't have," Richard answered with a smile. "You should have, Ellen. You must tell me when you are worried about something. It is about me going to India, isn't it?"

Ellen nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry, Richard, but the thought of you going away frightens me more than you can imagine."

"Oh, I can imagine. I feel the same. I would never leave you alone for so long. In fact, I had assumed that you would come with me."

"To India?" Ellen gasped.

"Why not? Calcutta is a comfortable city to live in, and there are many English women living there. Lady Lambert would have quite a position in Calcutta, I am sure."

Ellen looked at her swollen belly and made a grimace.

"I guess, once I am back to a normal size and weight again, I could travel, too."

"You'll see, this is going to be a wonderful experience. Do you remember the show two years ago, where they had elephants and tigers?"

"You scare me, Richard! These terribly animals do not really roam there freely?"

"Not in the cities," Richard laughed. "From what I hear, though, you can ride on elephants into the countryside, and there are all sorts of animals the likes of which we have never seen. You would have topics for conversations to last you a life time."

He could see the sudden sparkle in Ellen's eyes. The prospect of seeing new things was a powerful inducement for her.

"Perhaps we can consider the possibility," she said reluctantly, not yet fully convinced.

They went to bed, not long after that, with Ellen sleeping in her now customary position on her side. Ellen had an unruly sleep, dreaming of foreign lands and strange animals. She was almost relieved when she awoke shortly after sunrise. It took a few moments for her to realise that she had awoken because of contractions. She'd had contractions before, and they had always subsided within a few minutes. This morning however, the contractions did not go away, but rather increased in strength. Ellen felt a terrible pressure on her bladder, too, and she got up to waddle over to the cabinet where she sat on the potty stool to relieve herself. The contractions were coming regularly now, and Ellen realised the implications. She sat on the bed on Richard's side and woke him gently. He looked up, still sleepy and confused.

"Darling, we need to call the midwife. I think the time has come."

Richard almost bolted from the bed and pulled the bell rope. The sleepy maidservant that appeared was treated with a barrage of orders, to send for the midwife, to send for Lady Carter and Lady Wilkes. In just a few minutes, the household was in an uproar while Richard had Ellen lie down on the bed again and comforted her through the contractions.

Old Lady Lambert appeared, a gown over her night shirt, and satisfied herself that Ellen was comfortable. She told Richard to dress while she comforted Ellen with encouraging words.

"Today is the day, my darling," she said. "You will give birth to your first child. Are you comfortable this way? Good. Now just remember, this is not something new. Women do this all the time. So don't be embarrassed about what your body will do. The midwife will be here in no time, and she will help you through."

Indeed, Richard had barely dressed when the midwife arrived and took charge. Remembering the specific instructions by Sir Jonathan Wilkes, water was heated for the purpose of washing the hands of the women, and the midwife scrubbed her hands with soap and a brush. She had been amused at the instructions at first, but Sir Jonathan had been adamant. Out of curiosity, she had observed his rules in the past three months, and she had indeed noticed that fewer women under her care developed the dreaded childbed fever.

Now she examined her charge. She had examined her before, and she knew her to be in excellent health. She could feel the dilation of her opening already, and she knew that her water would break soon.

"You are already along the way quite far. Try to breath deeply to lessen the contractions. You are not ready to push yet, so don't try," she instructed the young woman who nodded with clenched teeth as just another spasm caused her pain. It was seven o'clock now, and the bedroom filled slowly with women. Of course, Lucy had come, and she promised Ellen that Sir Jonathan would come in an hour or two, just as a precaution, she added for the midwife's benefit. Harriet was there, too, restricting herself to giving her daughter in law moral support. Harriet was a slender woman, and birth had not come easy to her. She wiped Ellen's forehead with a cool cloth and distracted her by talking about Richard's birth and his early days. After brief consultation with the midwife, Lucy administered a strengthening tea to her daughter, to help her with the ordeal.

Richard had never felt as useless as this morning. He could see the pain in Ellen's face during the contractions, and he could do nothing to ease it. The women looked at him with admonishing glances. He knew that men were not present during child birth, that this was what women had to endure alone, but he did not have the heart to leave Ellen alone. He sat stubbornly at the head end of the bed and held his wife's hand, kissing her from time to time, and joking with his mother while she told her stories about his first years.

Ellen, for her part, felt protected. She just knew that nothing would go wrong with so many people taking care of her. Richard's presence meant a lot to her, too. Even his helpless babbling gave her comfort, and it felt good to have his arm to press during the contractions.

It was almost nine o'clock when Ellen's water broke, and from then on, things accelerated. The midwife announced her to be fully dilated, and Ellen herself felt that her contractions increased to almost unbearable intensity. She could not breath through them anymore, and her cries could be heard through the house.

Richard sat, helplessly listening to her cries of pain, his own face wet with perspiration and tears, and he prayed silently. Suddenly, the midwife looked up and squinted at him.

"Would milord care to help your wife?"

Richard nodded vigourously.

"Then, if you were to sit on the bed behind her and support her? Yes, like this, put your arms around her and help her sit upright. Wonderful! Now, milady, when the next contractions hit, press with all your force. Breath deeply now, collect your strength. Are you there yet? Now press!"

And Ellen pressed. Strangely, she felt something big moving inside her. But now, the contractions subsided.

"I can see the head already!" the midwife smiled up at her.

Ellen nodded and waited for the next round. It came, and once again, she pressed. The child definitely moved, and she felt being stretched to the limit. She pressed again with the next convulsions, and now the quality of the stretching changed somewhat.

"The head is through!" came Lucy's triumphant shout. "Hold on, Ellen, you are almost there!"

The next contractions came, and Ellen pressed with what strength was left in her. She felt how the child moved further down, and now she felt it being pulled from her womb. There was total silence in the bedroom for a second or two. Looking through her bloodshot eyes, Ellen saw the midwife hold a small, blood-smeared something up by its little feet, and she heard a clap. And then, for the first time, she heard her child cry. Wracked by her emotions and her exhaustion, Ellen sobbed helplessly in Richard's arms. Harriet shook her shoulder gently.

"Ellen, it's a boy, you have a son!"

The midwife and Lucy were busy cutting the umbilical cord and then cleaning the tiny child. Then they wrapped the future Lord Lambert in a pre-warmed blanket and handed the bundle to an Ellen who could barely keep her eyes open anymore. But the sight of her newborn son temporarily revived Ellen. She marvelled at the tiny human being that had grown inside her and was now mewling softly while lying in her arm. She felt Richard's grip from behind, felt his emotion, as he whispered into her ears.

"We have a wonderful child, Ellen. You were so brave, and I am so proud of you."

In spite of herself, Ellen smiled.

"I screamed the house down."

"Ellen, as long as I live, I will never forget this moment. I love you with all my heart."

He did not care that all the people around them could hear him, and the midwife gave them a soft smile.

The rest of the procedure, the afterbirth, the cleaning, the examination, all this was just a blurred memory to Ellen afterwards. She woke up some three hours later to look into the big, adoring eyes of Millicent Wade.

"You woke up, milady? Let me offer you some tea! Lady Wilkes prepared it for you, and it is still hot."

With the help of the girl, Ellen drank some tea, and it felt good. Slowly, the cobwebs cleared from her head.

"Where is my son?"

"He is sleeping over there, milady."

Indeed, a crib had been moved into the bedroom.

"May I inform his lordship that you are awake?"

Without waiting for an answer, Millicent slipped out of the room. A few seconds later, Richard rushed in and knelt before the bed. Behind him, Lucy and Harriet stood in the door, smiling at her.

"How do you feel, darling?" Richard asked softly, kissing the palm of her hand.

With a grimace, Ellen tried to jest.

"Torn limb from limb, to be honest. Tired, too. How is our son, Richard?"

"He is all right. We have found a wet nurse already, and it seems he drank some milk."

"But I want to suckle him," Ellen protested.

"This is only as a backup, darling. Of course you will suckle him," Richard smiled. "Look at it this way, Ellen. The wet nurse is a young woman who has to support her own child with the pay we give her. Would you want her on the street?"

Ellen looked contrite.

"Of course not. But this is my child, and I should feed him, at least in the beginning."

"And you will, darling. He is in our bedroom, and you will hear when he is hungry."

"And where is everybody else?"

"Gone home, but they will be back this afternoon. Father will come, too, and Eleanor and Antonio."

"Oh, dear god! How do I look?"

"Honestly?" Richard asked with a grin.

Ellen nodded.

"Tired but beautiful. Millicent has already asked whether she should do your hair, whatever she means by that."

"By all means, yes. I must look terrible."

"Must I remind you that you looked like a drowned rat when I first met you? Didn't I I still fall in love with you? But I shall let Millicent 'do your hair'."

Richard kissed his wife tenderly, and then left the field to the young girl. Millicent was no longer scrawny and underfed. She had filled into a most desirable young woman. But most of all, the girl idolised Ellen, and she combed out Ellen's matted hair with tender care. The she braided it into a single, thick queue that she draped over Ellen's shoulder. She brought a wash basin, next, and washed Ellen's face, her neck and shoulders. Asking for permission with a silent look, she lifted the covers and bunched up her night shirt. Using the wet cloth, she cleaned Ellen's front and armpits and the traces of blood on her thighs. Then she helped Ellen into a fresh shirt and brought fresh bed covers, too. All in all, Ellen felt much better after that service, and she thanked the girl with a grateful smile.

-------

Born, The Most Honourable Anthony John Carter, first son to Richard Carter, 3rd Baron Lambert and his wife, Ellen Wilkes Carter, Lady Lambert, of Cavendish Sq., London. We are given to understand that mother and son are in excellent health, and we anticipate her ladyship to resume her numerous charitable activities soon.

The short notice ran in The Times three days after the birth, and Ellen read it a few times. Well, they could anticipate whatever they wanted, she thought. Herself, she anticipated a few months of rest in Woodbridge Manor. She wanted to ride on horseback again to regain her fitness, she wanted Ricky to run around with her, and she wanted her son to breathe the clean air of the countryside instead of the soot and dust of London. Richard had agreed, and he would join her on the weekends. The Carters wanted to spend the summer on High Matcham as well, and as for Eleanor, she planned to break in the new house with Antonio, with a focus on the bedroom, as she had put it in a private moment the day before. Eleanor was getting antsy, her wedding only three weeks away.

Melissa would go, too, and Ellen had invited Colleen MacAllister as well. Her father's courtship with Emily Lambert was progressing nicely, and they planned on a future together. With Richard's support, the ominous Mr. Sunderland had found a desk job at the Foreign Office for Sir Humbert, and the Colonel had joked that Richard was allowing him no way out. Emily, for her part, was simply happy. She had visited twice with Ellen after the birth and given her pointers. There was no envy on her part that Ellen had born a boy; Emily had left her past behind, obviously. Ellen was relieved; she had feared a strain in her relationship with Richard's aunt.

The knock of the nurse, Mabel, stopped her musings. After her first apprehension about having a wet nurse suckle her son, Ellen had quickly realised the benefits. The two women had reached an agreeable arrangement, whereby Ellen would suckle little Anthony in the mornings and evenings, and Mabel at night and at noontime. This gave Ellen a chance to sleep through the night and freedom during the day, and it left the young nurse enough milk to feed her own child, a little girl of 6 weeks named Sally. Mabel was a buxom, dark-blonde girl of nineteen who had been housemaid in the household of a city alderman where her charms were recognised and appreciated by the son of the house. Once the girl became pregnant, the alderman's wife had thrown her out against the protests of the boy who nevertheless vowed to support her and the child once he gained majority. Ellen wondered whether he would live up to that promise.

"Master Carter is sated, milady," the girl announced, "and he's all clean. He is sleeping in the nursery."

"Thank you, Mabel. Take care of your own daughter now."

The girl curtseyed and left while Ellen opened the door to the nursery by a crack. She peered in, but she saw that the boy was sleeping fast, and she retreated to her boudoir. She was feeling much better already. There had been no tearing at her nether opening, an amazing fact, seeing that little Anthony had weighed in at seven pounds. Smiling wryly, Ellen remembered how she had been worried whether even her husbands organ would fit into her. 'It's just a matter of lubrication, ' she thought naughtily, feeling the first tender traces of libido returning. Not that she was lacking attention from Richard. He had been incredibly caring all through her pregnancy, and she felt tears of happiness welling up when she thought of his support during the birth. And she planned to reward him as soon as she felt able to do so.

In the afternoon, Eleanor came for another visit. Antonio was attending teachings by a Church of England cleric. He was converting to the Protestant faith, something that caused considerable misgivings to his mother, even she had to agree on the necessity. Even after the Catholic Relief Act of 1829, they would face difficulties if Antonio remained a Catholic, and since he felt no strong attachment to a church that had sided with Spain during his country's struggle for independence, he had decided to make his life and that of his future family easier.

Eleanor wanted to see little Anthony, and the two young women stood for a while, watching the sleeping infant.

"You are so lucky," Eleanor beamed, pressing Ellen's arm. "And I mean in more than one aspect. Mother told me how Richard was with you all through the birth? That is so sweet of him! Sometimes, Richard surprises me, he really does."

"You mustn't hold his earlier mistakes against him anymore, Eleanor," Ellen answered in a friendly tone. "He has grown up during the year of our separation, and he is the best husband a woman can ask for. I can't wait for us to resume our nightly activities," she added in a low voice.

Eleanor grinned.

"Go ahead, make me even more impatient, you naughty woman." She turned serious. "Honestly, Ellen, how was the birthing? Mother says you screamed the house down, but then, you have always been noisy," she added with an impish grin.

Ellen slapped her friend's arm. "Bad girl! To answer your question, I thought my poor fanny would come apart at the seams. It certainly felt that way. To imagine I was once worried if Richard would fit in there..."

"You poor lamb! How do you feel now? I mean, aren't you stretched and torn down there?"

"No, I seem to have made it through the whole thing in one piece," Ellen grinned. "Why are you asking, Eleanor? Is there something I should know?"

"God forbid, no! Once we are married, though, it may happen at any time."

"When it happens, it happens. Don't fret about it before the time has come. Women have been giving birth from the beginning of time. But what I can tell you is this: once you see your child, you will forget all the pain and hardship."

"I can imagine," Eleanor answered wistfully.

-------

Two weeks later, the families moved to their country homes. A procession of no fewer than five coaches was necessary to transport the family members, house guests and staff. Ellen had recovered most of her strength, and little Anthony was already stronger, having grown an inch already. Fed by two women, he lacked nothing, and he was as healthy as anyone could wish.

Woodbridge Manor was roomier even than the house on Cavendish Square, and Mabel was properly awed. Ellen saw to it that the nurse had a cozy room for herself and her baby, and she had ordered a second crib for the nursery to accommodate Mabel's little girl.

Millicent continued in her chosen role as confidential servant to Ellen; earlier ideas of her serving as cook had been given up when it turned out that she had no calling for it.

For Melissa, Richard and Ellen had the gatekeeper's lodge refurbished. She would join them for the meals, but she would have some privacy. Since the lodge was spacious and had an extra bedroom, Colleen asked to share it with Melissa, and the painter gladly accepted her as house mate. Colleen had shown her manuscript to a London publisher, and a lector had gone over it with her. There were a few things she had to correct and amend, but the publisher had been very positive. Therefore, both women planned to use the time on Woodbridge Manor to follow their artistic vocations.

When the weekend approached, the houses filled with guests for the wedding. The villagers marvelled at the procession of coaches that rumbled through the small village streets and towards the manors. There would be no guests at the new Oxford Manor; only Donna Maria would lodge there. Therefore, Ellen and Harriet bore the brunt of hosting. For Ellen, it was a welcome change after almost three months of seclusion, and she was her exuberant self around the friends and relatives of Eleanor and Antonio. The weather was fine, and the guests enjoyed strolls in the countryside, coming home famished and in excellent mood. On the eve of the wedding, no fewer than twenty-one house guests had to be accommodated, and additional beds were installed in disused rooms. Thankfully, young Millicent proved to be possessed of extraordinary organisation skills, and she took charge of the distribution of bedding and linen and wash basins.

One of the last guests to arrive at High Matcham was Emily Pembroke with her husband Jeremiah. Richard was there when they arrived and he made them promise to visit over at Woodbridge Manor before they left. Besides wanting to present his son, he wanted to ask Jeremiah about his work for the East India Company and about conditions in India in general. He also knew that Ellen wanted to interview Emily about living in India as an English woman.

On Saturday morning, a mad bustle ensued when over twenty people had to dress, had their hair done, found their finest shoes, their sash, buckle and sword. By ten-thirty, everybody was ready to leave, though, and the ceremonies could ensue at eleven.

First came the proud moment for Richard and Ellen. Little Anthony was baptised over the simple stone basin of the village church, held by his godmother Eleanor in her bridal gown. Henry Thornton, 3rd Viscount Essenden, a friend of Richard's at the Foreign Office and a rising man in the Whig party, was godfather to the boy who would be known to the world as Anthony John Henry Wilkes Carter. Little Anthony was sleeping soundly through most of the ceremony, awaking only briefly when the cold water touched his forehead. Ellen returned to the seat in their pew, holding her freshly baptised son, and the old priest who had already blessed Richard's and Ellen's marriage, called forth Antonio and Eleanor.

Standing side by side before the priest in the simple village church, they exchanged their vows and were declared man and wife. Antonio interpreted the permission to kiss his bride liberally, and Eleanor was short of breath and a little glassy-eyed when they marched out into the sunlight. Here, they were greeted by the tenants and their families, and all the well wishers paraded before them. It was almost two o'clock when they left the village square and drove the open coach to High Matcham. The huge barn had been decorated and tables had been set up to accommodate all the guests, invited and uninvited, who came to celebrate the young couple and Little Anthony.

Later in the afternoon, Sir Humbert MacAllister, who Antonio had chosen as his best man, delivered his toast to the couple. When he was finished, he raised his glass again and asked Emily Lambert to join him. Holding her hand, he announced their engagement, and the barn was filled with shouted congratulations.

It was an altogether joyous occasion for all involved, and it was late in the night before the barn emptied and the last guests left or went to bed. Ellen and Richard drove home with their house guests at two in the morning with Ellen feeling fit to burst. She had missed the evening feeding and her breasts were filled. Luckily, Little Anthony had not been suckled yet, and Ellen felt the relief when she fed her son while Richard watched them. She smiled at her husband who came over and hugged her from behind until the little boy was finished. Mabel took over then and readied the infant for sleep, while Ellen and Richard sank into their bed exhausted.

Ellen was not ready for sleep yet. She turned towards Richard and cuddled against him, with her left leg straddling his left leg. Richard could feel her body through the thin fabric of her night shirt and he smiled happily in the dark.

"Are you sure it is all right, darling?" he asked softly, and he felt her nod.

"Yes, I am sure. I want you to take me and to take me hard. I missed you so much."

With growing lust, Richard turned Ellen over on her back and began to kiss his way from her mouth along her neck and to her shoulders. He opened the drawstring that held the top of Ellen's night shirt and exposed her left breast. He reverently kissed and suckled the nipple, tasting some of the milk his son had fed on. Then he kissed Ellen's mouth again, forcing her lips apart with his tongue and crushing her against his chest.

Ellen could easily feel the rampant erection that pressed against her tummy, and her eager hands pulled up Richard's and her own shirt, to feel the hot meat against the skin of her abdomen.

"Take me now, Richard!" she whispered urgently.

He realigned himself to position his erection between her willingly spread thighs, and in one fluent movement, he penetrated his lovely wife to the hilt.

A sobbing gasp came from her lips as she felt his manhood deep inside her. Both remained motionless for a moment, savouring the exquisite sensations, before Richard began his rhythmic movements inside her, driving his straining pole into her time and again. Ellen locked her arms and legs around her husband and urged him on, digging her heels into his back. Much to her dismay, with the house full of guests, she could not voice her lust the way she wanted to. She buried her face in the hollow of Richard's neck, moaning her pleasure into his flesh. When Richard stopped and withdrew, she was shocked.

"Don't stop now, please!" she whined.

"Turn around, Ellen."

She quickly understood and turned onto her arms and knees, presenting her pale backside to her husband. The sight of Ellen's rear presented like that, her shirt bunched up around her midsection, made Richard growl with desire. Fiercely, he plunged into her from behind, and Ellen moaned into a cushion while Richard pounded her with long, steady strokes. When Richard felt the pulsing of her channel around his member, he knew she was close to her release. Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her back and against his penetrating penis. Pressing into her as deep as he could, he could feel his semen rising up from his testicles, and with a low moan, he began to unload into Ellen's womb. Ellen felt the urgency of his penetration, and she sensed the pulsing of Richard's member deep inside her. Biting into the cushion to muffle herself, she went over the top, contracting around the invading penis, and losing herself in a wave of lust.



-------

Chapter 26: Le Roi et Mort - Vive le Roi!

It was only a few days later that news arrived from London. King George IV had died. He had never been a popular monarch, running up enormous debts, and in his last years, the cartoonists had portrayed him in very unflattering ways. Still, he was the king, and upon his death, parliament was dissolved. As a Peer of England, Richard had to go to London for the burial, and he left the next morning in their coach. They had decided that Ellen should stay behind with Anthony, as did Richard's parents. Sir Anthony organised a memorial service to be held in the village church, but apart from that, live went on.

The young women at Woodbridge Manor rode their horses on a daily basis, and Ellen quickly regained her trim appearance, although her breasts remained enlarged. The women stopped by the river often, and Melissa sketched scenes as she saw them. One day, while they were resting on the river bank, two swans with their young drifted by. The male swan trailed behind, and Ellen threw him some bread crumbs, enticing the big white bird to swim closer. She managed to get the animal close enough to feed it by hand, much to the amazement of her companions. Melissa sketched furiously all the while, and when the swan finally left, she looked at Ellen with an unspoken question on her face.

"What is it, Melissa?" Ellen finally asked.

"You ... you looked wonderful with that big white swan eating from your hand. I just had this idea, don't be mad at me, it's just an idea. Would you pose for another painting for me?"

"What kind of painting?" Ellen asked amused.

"Leda with the Swan!" Melissa exclaimed.

"But that swan will probably never come back here," Ellen answered.

"That is all right. I have my sketches. Would you sit for me? You would have to sit, how shall I put this, with little clothing? You know the story of Leda? The swan was Zeus, and he came to Leda, and she had a child from him."

"You want me to pose naked?" Ellen asked, and Colleen looked at the other women with an open mouth.

"Not completely," Melissa said, blushing, "just your chest."

"Do you have any idea how big my breasts are right now?" Ellen asked. "Besides, what would you do with such a painting?"

"Of course, I could not sell it," Melissa admitted. "That would cause a scandal. You are too well known. I would have to keep it, or rather, give it to you."

For the next hour, Melissa tried to talk Ellen into posing. She seemed rather obsessed with her idea, and she promised that all the sketches and the painting would be in Ellen's possession. After a while, Ellen relented.

That evening, they rummaged through the house to find linen for a Greek style dress for Ellen, and the next morning, the three women returned to the river. Ellen took Ricky along to warn them of approaching people. Once they were at the river bank, Melissa began painting the background, a sand coloured blanket. Then Ellen had to lie down, covered only partly by the thin fabric they had found. With her left hand, she held the fabric between her breasts, while her right arm was bent back behind her head. The pose showed her full breasts to advantage.

For the next six hours, Melissa painted like a woman obsessed. From time to time, Ellen could take a break while Melissa worked on other parts of the picture. The swan was particularly difficult, because its wing was behind Ellen, while its long neck and head rested between her breasts. Although she worked feverishly, Melissa could not finish the painting that day, and they returned the next morning to continue.

Finally, by mid-afternoon, Melissa put her brushes aside. Ellen covered herself and came over to have a look at the painting. She held her breath when she saw it. This was not a typical mythical painting, this was highly erotic. Was this really she who laid back languidly, offering herself to the swan?

"What do you think?" Melissa asked apprehensively.

"It is wondrous, yet outrageous. It is beautiful, yet scandalous. I like it, but I would die if it were seen by anyone save my husband. Can you accept that this painting may never be shown to anyone?"

Melissa nodded. She had been aware of this right from the start. For a woman of Lady Lambert's standing, this painting could mean her social ruin.

"I shall pay for your work, Melissa," Ellen said softly, "but then I will hide the painting until my husband has a chance to give his opinion."

The women returned to the Manor, and Ellen carefully hid the painting in her bedroom. When Eleanor visited the next morning, she showed it to her sister in law, though, and Eleanor was speechless at first. But she was appreciative, too, complimenting Ellen on the way she had recovered the firmness of her body so soon after giving birth. Ellen laughed at that.

"You know, once my boobs are down in size again, I'll feel much better. But as long as I feed Anthony, I won't become pregnant again, and that's nice, too."

"So you and Richard, are you doing it again?" Eleanor asked curiously.

Ellen nodded, and Eleanor had another question.

"How is it, I mean, after giving birth?"

"Better than ever," Ellen confided. "I'm a little wider now, and it's a better fit."

Eleanor left it at that, and they both rejoined the others downstairs.

Richard returned the next week, having attended the King's burial and the deliberations in the Lords. The Duke of Clarence would ascend to the throne as William IV., and many of the Lords believed him to be a better king, less extravagant and more open to reason.

On the first evening, Ellen showed Richard The Painting, and he was at a loss for words at first. Ellen watched him while different emotions passed over his features. His first words, however, set her at ease.

"God, Ellen, you are so beautiful! Melissa really can bring out your looks. But where can we hang this?"

"You like it?" Ellen asked, a relieved smile on her face. "You are not angry that I consented to pose for her?"

"Yes, it is wonderful, if a little risque. Perhaps we can put it in the private study in the town house?"

"You want to ogle me in private?" Ellen grinned.

"I want that view all for myself," Richard admitted with an equal grin. "Do I have to reimburse Melissa?"

"I already did, Richard. I thought of it as a gift for you."

Richard laughed. "Who would have thought that you would become a patroness of the arts? I am sorry, but out here in the country, I still see you as my beautiful shepherdess."

Ellen smiled back at her husband. "I like that." Then an idea struck her. "My cloak and hat should still be at your parents' house. What if I have Melissa paint me as shepherdess? Would you like that?"

It was obvious at once that Richard was all for it, for his eyes were lighting up.

"I would love that. Let us commission the painting this time. Melissa needs to earn her living, if only for her self-esteem."

That evening, at dinner, they spoke to Melissa about the idea. Melissa asked them about the background, wanting to know more about the way they had met. By tacit agreement, Ellen and Richard left out the part about the near-rape in the barn, but they told her about Ellen's arrival in the February rain, about her herding her sheep on the river banks, about Richard's visits and the rescue from the Tremonts. Colleen and Melissa listened to the story with their mouths open. In the end, Melissa, with that absent look on her face the others knew already, spoke up.

"I see at least three possible tableaux. The strongest one would be of you trudging through the mud, surrounded by your sheep, under an overcast sky, symbolising the hardships. Then I see you on the river bank, in the sunshine, those sheep grazing and your dog circling them, a peaceful scene, symbolising the easy life. And then, pardon me, a scene where you look up to a horseman, your dog watchful at your side. 'Meeting the Squire', I would call this last scene."

Richard and Ellen looked at each other, and then, Richard cleared his throat.

"Let's do all three," he said. "What do you need?"

"I'd like to start with the languid sunshine scene, the weather is just right for it. I suppose there are sheep around here?"

Ellen looked at Richard, who nodded.

"Mr. Brown has kept them, some lads from the village look after them in turn. We shan't need the full herd, shall we?"

The next morning, Richard rode over to High Matcham and came back with Ellen's old clothes, and her cloak and hat. Harriet Carter had had them washed and stored away, assuming that Ellen might reclaim them one day. The entire group of adults set out for the river bank, close to the small copse of wood where Richard had redeemed himself over four years ago. The young lad who tended the sheep was waiting there already, and Ricky was out of the coach in a flash, circling the sheep and annoying them greatly with his antics.

Sir Anthony and Harriet Carter were waiting there as well, and Nadine Blacket had come, too, bringing baskets of food for a delightful picnic under the early July sun. Little Anthony slept in a crib under a chestnut tree, along with Mabel's little daughter, while the nurse kept a close watch over her charges, lest some gadfly, bee, or wasp might disturb them.

Under the eyes of the group, Melissa built up her easel and the wide canvas. Over the afternoon, she began with the backdrop of the river, with the willow trees lining it. The grassy banks with the sheep came next, but then the evening set in, and the young lad drove the small herd back towards High Matcham.

The next day was fine again, and the same group of people assembled on the river bank. Ellen had donned her old dress and cloak, much to the amusement of most present, and spent the early morning trying to teach Ricky a few essentials he had obviously forgotten. Then Melissa bade her sit on a moss covered fallen tree. It took almost an hour before poor Ellen sat in the precise pose Melissa had envisioned, and the young painter began her work in earnest. While the painting took shape, the other family members and guests enjoyed the beautiful day. Later they enjoyed the food Nadine Blacket had brought along, and Melissa scolded Ellen for chewing on a pastry while she tried to paint her face. Ellen retorted laughingly and time passed quickly over the ensuing banter.

Richard, for his part, simply lay in the grass and watched the reincarnation of Ellen Barlow, as he knew her back then. He marvelled at his good fortune, too, that this lovely creature, his wonderful wife, had by chance come to graze her sheep on his father's lands. He thought briefly what might have happened if the girl had chosen the Tremonts' possessions instead, and he shuddered at the thought. He also felt a pang of shame at the thought of his own actions back then. Did he really deserve the love that she gave him? His gaze fell on the crib where he knew his son to be asleep, and his emotions welled up. It did not matter whether he deserved Ellen. She was his, and the sleeping infant confirmed that. Finally, he decided that he was just lucky, and the thought gave him back his balance. Lucky was good, as long as being lucky included being with Ellen.

Ellen seemed to pick up on his emotions and looked at him knowingly. She had an idea what was going through his mind. Similar thoughts had been on her mind over the morning. She also looked over to where Harriet Carter sat, her back against her husband's chest, a woman at peace. Ellen knew how much she had suffered over the last years, some of it through her own, Ellen's mistakes. She also knew that Harriet's happiness had been earned the hard way, and she marvelled at the character of the woman and her own good luck to have her as mother in law. She also thought about her own mother, not the sick bundle of bones that she had been close to the end, but the beautiful, vivacious woman she had been before she wasted away. What would the Irish woman have thought about her daughter becoming the wife of an English Baron? Probably, she would not have cared about that, Ellen decided. She would have asked, though, whether she loved her husband. Ellen looked over again, and she met Richard's eyes. They conveyed happiness now, and love. Yes, if her mother asked, Ellen's answer would be an unconditional 'yes'.

Meanwhile, Colleen was listening to Sir Anthony. She knew that he was a veteran of the Battle of Trafalgar, had indeed commanded the flagship of Sir Cuthbert Collingwood during the battle, and she had begged him to recollect that day for her. Writing the manuscript about Antonio's adventures, she had gathered enough knowledge of seamanship that she could easily follow his recollections. She was astonished, though, to learn that he had not been knighted in recognition of his service in that famous sea battle, but that knighthood had been bestowed on him earlier for a desperate ship-to-ship action in which his frigate, the Clyde, had captured a French ship-of-the-line. Then he told her of his earlier exploits in Haiti, his fights against pirates in the Great South Sea, she learned about his early life with his father, his childhood in Kingston. Colleen now understood the friendship to Lucy Wilkes, née Gutteridge, and to Doña Maria.

Then Lady Carter told the story how they had first met and detested each other and how she came to fall for the young Anthony Carter. Colleen's head whirled, thinking of how rich a life they had led, how perilous and how rewarding it had been, and she understood the almost visible bond between them. She sighed inwardly, asking herself if she would ever have a bond as deep to another person. She made notes, too, a habit she had acquired and would not quit, to aid her memory. She knew that she could never write the story of the Carters' life. They were too prominent, the details too intimate, and besides, she felt too close to them. But she kept the notes.

-------

It was in the middle of these idyllic weeks that a messenger arrived for Richard. He read the letter and his brows knitted while he reread it. He looked over at Ellen who was sitting at the table, putting the finishing touches to some needle work.

"They want me to go to Holland for negotiations," he said reluctantly. "There is an issue about the trade between Dutch East India and Ceylon that needs to be resolved. I thought the treaty of '24 had put an end to these problems. They want me to head our delegation. I am to travel next week. I should be gone for the better part of a month, I fancy."

Ellen swallowed. This was unexpected. She had to concede, though, that Richard had clearly put her before his work in the last months, and she forced herself to smile.

"That is a great distinction, Richard. Don't worry about us. Perhaps, I should spend that time in London with your grandmother until you return. That way, I get to see Lucy, too."

"You are really all right with this, darling?"

In return, Ellen stood and walked over to him. She took his hands and pulled him up to hug him.

"I have the best husband of the world. Now, I will borrow him to my country for a month."

Richard return her hug with feeling.

"I am truly blessed with you, Ellen. It is a pity you cannot come with me. Amsterdam is supposed to be a beautiful and rich city that I would love for you to see."

"Perhaps another time, darling. With you being busy, it would only be half the fun. Never worry, I shall be fine."

Thus, two days later, they left Woodbridge Manor and returned to their London house. Old Lady Lambert was overjoyed to have her great-grandson back, and Ellen settled back into her London life. Richard left with the delegation, travelling with a Navy sloop from Dover to Amsterdam.

Meanwhile, Ellen renewed her contact with her London acquaintances. First her pregnancy and then the preparations of Eleanor's wedding had prevented her from showing herself in the salons, and she was eagerly welcomed back. Of course, many of her female acquaintances found an excuse to visit her at home and see little Anthony who was growing rapidly.

A week after Richard's departure, at tea in Lady Wheeler's parlour, she met a woman her own age, by the name of Patricia Gainsworth, the wife of some Major Gainsworth. Somewhere in the back of her brain, Ellen knew the name, but she could not place it. It was the woman herself who clarified this.

"I believe you knew my Cousin Marjorie? She spoke about you a few times, not too flatteringly, I regret to say. But then, Marjorie would always talk disparagingly about others. I must say that I find you very charming in person."

Outwardly friendly, Ellen's senses went on alert and she felt the hairs in her neck rise.

"That is very kind of you, Mrs. Gainsworth. Yes, your cousin seemed to have an issue with me, although I never did anything knowingly to hurt her."

"That does not mean that we have to continue in this vein, does it?" Mrs. Gainsworth offered, and Ellen gave her a friendly smile.

"Of course not! I am much rather friends with people. Perhaps we shall see each other again?"

"Certainly, Lady Lambert, certainly."

With that, Patricia Gainsworth moved on. Ellen was not sure was to make of the friendly advance, and she made it a point to cast unobtrusive glances at the woman. It seemed like Mrs. Gainsworth was interested in her, too, for she caught her repeatedly as she looked at Ellen. Ellen felt uneasy and she made a mental note to be cautious.

When she asked Old Lady Lambert about Patricia Gainsworth, she did not get any information. The old lady maintained that she did not know the woman and that she had never been part of Marjorie Binnings' clique. Ellen was more than surprised when, a few days later, she received a written invitation to a garden party at Major Gainsworth's house. Ellen was rather doubtful if she should attend. A refusal, however, would be a snub and might just create a new enemy. Perhaps, Mrs. Gainsworth wanted to send a friendly signal. Of course, nothing could be done to her while she attended a party as invited guest. She would bring her own coach and coachman, to be sure, so she could leave anytime. After some deliberation, Ellen sent a note of acceptance.

She was indeed greeted friendly by the hostess and her husband, a rather smallish man in his forties. Ellen had decided for a rather modest attire, with a high neckline and simple cut. She did not want to draw attention to herself, but there was nothing she could do about her rich, blonde tresses which cascaded over her shoulders, nothing about the heart shaped face, the violet blue eyes and the full mouth. Ellen noticed that her hostess looked at her now and then with a touch of envy, or was it resentment? Ellen decided she could not do anything about it. Somehow, the party remembered her of her debutante season when all the cavaliers flocked around the naive girl, for she was soon the centre of attention for all the unaccompanied gentlemen. She danced a few dances, refused to drink wine or spirits, and generally enjoyed herself.

One man, however, stuck out from the crowd of would be cavaliers. He was in his late forties or early fifties, his hair greying, but with surprisingly lively, blue-grey eyes. He had introduced himself as the Marquis de St. Croix, and Ellen had heard of him. He had the reputation of a great charmeur and a connoisseur of women of all ages, and he circled Ellen as a shark would around its intended prey. Ellen danced with him twice, and she had to admit that he was an excellent dancer and easy to talk to. His meaningful looks, his exaggerated French accent, and his posturing, she found mildly amusing. All in all, she found him much less obnoxious than most of the other men she had danced with.

Ellen was resting after a whirling Viennese Waltz with the Marquis when she thought she heard commotion from the entry hall. Being naturally curious, she stepped into the hall, only to see her coachman, Wilkins, struggling to get in and held back by two footmen.

"What is it, Wilkins?" she asked, and the two manservants, surprised by her voice, let go of Wilkins. The man staggered forward with glassy eyes.

"Shomshing's wrong wish me, m'lady, feel funny," he announced with a decided slur. He staggered again and fell on his face.

Ellen rushed forward and lifted his head. His forehead had a cut, and blood flowed into his eyes.

"Don't just stand there!" she commanded the two footmen, who shifted uneasily on their feet. "Bring him to the kitchens where we can attend to his wound."

The men looked at each other first, but then shrugged and came forward. They lifted the barely conscious Wilkins up and dragged him to the back of the house. Following them, Ellen made sure that one of the kitchen maids washed Wilkin's face. Suddenly, the butler came into the kitchen and yelled at the two men who jumped up and ran out of the kitchen. It was only now that the butler noticed Ellen, and he bowed deeply and asked forgiveness for his loud voice. Meanwhile, the maid, a girl of maybe sixteen years, had washed the wound and she ran off for some cloth. Ellen sighed. Why did Wilkins have to get drunk?

The girl returned with some linen cloth and proceeded to bind it around Wilkin's head.

"M'lady, better watch out!" the girl suddenly whispered.

Ellen kept her presence of mind.

"Why?" she whispered.

"The butler, Mr. Tolley, he ordered to give your driver brandy, and he laughed and said you would be stranded here."

Ellen's eyebrows shot up.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, m'lady. I heard it while I was cleaning the fireplace. I don't think they saw me."

"What is your name, girl?" Ellen asked softly.

"Sadie, m'lady."

"Sadie, do you reckon you could run a message for me?"

"I could, but if they miss me, Mr. Tolley will get mad at me and beat me."

Ellen noticed the look of fear and revulsion on the girl's face.

"Would you rather work in my household?" she asked gently, and the girl's eyes grew big.

"Could I? I'd sure love to leave this place. The men here have too many hands," she added with a grimace.

Ellen looked around, and there was a notebook and a pencil. She carefully tore a page from the notebook and scribbled a message on it.

"Sadie, carry this message to Doña Maria Ruiz de Costa. The house is Nº 7 Boscombe Drive. Here is a sovereign, take a cab. Tell the doorman that the message is from Lady Lambert, for Doña Maria's eyes only and that it is urgent. Do not come back. Go to Cavendish Square and to my house."

The girl nodded and repeated the names and addresses once. Then she slipped out the back door, leaving Ellen alone with the driver. It was not long, however, before Patricia Gainsworth rushed in.

"Oh dear me, Lady Lambert. I just heard your driver hurt himself. Let me see! Oh my, is he hurt badly? Where is that useless girl Sadie? Never in sight when there is work to do!"

"She left a minute or two ago to fetch some more bandages," Ellen retorted calmly. However, her mind was racing. What was Patricia Gainsworth up to?

"Good for her," Mrs. Gainsworth said absentmindedly. "Of course, we can ready a guest room for you. It does not look like your driver can take you home tonight."

Now, was there a fleeting smirk on the woman's lips?

"That is kind of you, Mrs. Gainsworth," Ellen answered, fencing for time. "Let us wait though if he will recover."

She let Patricia Gainsworth lead her out of the kitchen and back to the party. Almost immediately, the Marquis was at her side again.

"I 'eard a commotion. Iz everyzing all right?"

"No, Marquis, I'm afraid not. My driver got drunk and fell, and it seems I am stranded here."

"I am sure, madame, we can find ways to entertain you," the Marquis answered with a self-assured smile, while leading her to the terrace, his hand cupping Ellen's on his left forearm.

Ellen decided to burst his bubble once and for all.

"Marquis, much as I enjoy your company, you must understand that this is as far as you will ever get with me. I have heard of your reputation, of course, but I am married, and happily, I should add. Therefore, if you are looking for an adventure, you may want to look elsewhere."

The Marquis was unfazed and displayed an admirable self-assuredness.

"Ah yes, Madame, I 'ave 'eard zat you are married. But a man of ze world can show you what love really means. From what I 'ear, ze English men 'ave no idea 'ow to treat beautiful women."

Ellen could not help it. She laughed outright, both at the nerve of the man and the ridiculous suggestion.

"Well, then let me assure you, Marquis, that my husband leaves nothing for me to desire except for his speedy return. To be even more outspoken, and to cure any illusions, my husband and I married for love, and that love is still as strong as when we first met." Ellen tilted her head as an idea formed. "Say, Marquis, did anybody, perhaps our hostess, indicate that I might be receptive to your advances?"

The Marquis was clearly disconcerted.

"Well, yes, it was indicated to me that your marriage was none too happy, and that I should employ my talents to give you reprieve." Miraculously, his accent was gone as soon as he gave up the courting.

"That fits with what I suspected, Marquis. Our hostess is the cousin of a woman who has been, for some reason unbeknownst to me, my and my husband's enemy. She paid a dear price for her scheming, and it seems that now her cousin wants to set me up in a compromising situation. Such as spending a night at her house in the presence of a notorious galant. You received an invitation to stay over night, didn't you?"

The Marquis, for all his experience, blushed with anger.

"Parbleu! The nerve to use me that way! Madame, I beg your forgiveness. This is not my style at all. I thought I would be helping a poor unloved woman, even while I admit that I looked forward to it. You are indeed very beautiful, and I would have enjoyed helping you out. But now we need to get you out of this house. I would accompany you myself, but that would create just the type of situation you must avoid."

"Don't worry, Marquis," Ellen calmed him. "I have taken steps already, and we should soon see the fruits of it."

"Madame, you astound me in more than one way. Your husband can count himself a very lucky man."

Ellen smiled, thinking of Richard.

"Yes, he is, but no more than I am a lucky woman for having him. But let us go back and stay near the entrance, for I expect a friend to pick me up."

They sauntered back to the house, and Ellen could see Patricia Gainsworth smile at the sight of them. Ellen felt wonderful at this moment. She had outsmarted the woman, she had even turned her ally, and she had avoided the pit prepared for her.

Ellen and the Marquis kept close to the entrance hall, in a friendly and accent-free conversation. Now, that he had given up his posturing, Ellen found him even more charming.

It was an hour later when Ellen heard another commotion. They arrived in the entrance hall just when an imperious Doña Maria instructed the footmen to seek out Lady Lambert. Ellen stepped forward and hugged Doña Maria.

"This is so nice of you to come and pick me up," she exclaimed. From the corner of her eye she saw Patricia Gainsworth coming, and she turned to the hostess. "This is fortunate, my dear Mrs. Gainsworth. I mentioned to my friend, Doña Maria, that I would be attending your party, and she came to pick me up. This way, I won't have to intrude on you."

She affected the introductions. The effect was quite different. While Patricia Gainsworth was making a valiant and obvious attempt to maintain a polite facade, the Marquis made a deep bow before Doña Maria and kissed her hand. Maria Ruiz de Costa was indeed looking quite appealing. She had been ready for bed already, and her hair, usually bound in an elaborate knot, was flooding over her shoulders in a raven black cascade, contrasting with a tight fitting red costume. The Marquis cleared his throat while he tried to control his blush.

"Would you find it within your possibilities, Madame, to give me transportation, too? I sent my driver home, planning to spend the night here, but I changed my plans."

Doña Maria nodded gracefully. "But of course, Marquis," she smiled.

"You are not staying, Marquis?" Patricia Gainsworth asked, quite taken aback.

"Not today, nor ever," the Marquis retorted coolly. "I do not fancy being used for petty schemes, Madame. Have a good evening!"

Ellen had the driver, Wilkins, brought to the front as well, and he was lashed to the driver's seat beside Doña Maria's driver.

"I'll have somebody pick up my coach tomorrow. Thank you for the illuminating evening, Mrs. Gainsworth," Ellen said sweetly, and Patricia Gainsworth had no choice but to answer politely that it had been her pleasure.

When they were seated in the coach, the Marquis spoke again.

"We had better drop off Lady Lambert first, if you won't mind being alone with me, Doña Maria," the Marquis suggested.

Maria Ruiz looked her questions, and Ellen quickly filled her in. An amused smile appeared on the face of the Spanish lady.

"I am glad I could help you out. By the way, the girl you sent, I did not let her go. Not at this hour. We shall drive by our house and you can take her with you."

Ellen pressed the older woman's hand. "Thank you for your help. I am sorry about the inconvenience I caused."

"Say nothing of it, my dear Ellen," Doña Maria answered. "Not often do I have the chance these days to meet a true gentleman of breeding."

It was dark in the coach, but Ellen would have sworn that the Marquis blushed. His behaviour towards Doña Maria was completely different from the way he had behaved at the party. Somehow, the mature beauty of Maria Ruiz had not gone unnoticed.

They briefly stopped at the Ruiz' house, and a very intimidated Sadie climbed in, trying to shrink into a corner of the seat while the coach rumbled on to Cavendish Square. Ellen roused her household to convey Wilkins to his room and to find accommodations for the girl Sadie. It was Millicent, who took the girl under her wings while Ellen bade farewell to Doña Maria and the Marquis.

Back in the coach, the Marquis de Ste. Croix was battling an inexplicable shyness.

"Madame, please forgive me, but during the introduction, I did not get your name in full."

"Maria Christina Arabella Ruiz de Costa y Ledesma," she answered. "I am the widow of Alonso Christobal Ruiz de Costa y Torquena, His Most Catholic Majesty's late Governor of Cartagena."

"Henry Louis Lucien de Ste. Croix, at your service!" He contrived to bow while seated in the coach, and Doña Maria appreciated the flawless execution of this manoeuvre with a smile. "The name Ledesma, Madame, strikes a chord. I had a cousin, Enrique de Ledesma. Would he be related to you?"

"My uncle, to my mother's side," Doña Maria answered deligtedly. "This is quite a coincidence, Marquis. If I may ask, why did you not return to France after Napoleon's overturn?"

"I like London and the Londoners. Besides, I had the honour to briefly serve at the court of the pretender here in London, and the experience of dealing with Louis XVIII made me sympathise with the ideals of a republic. I have my business here, too."

"Oh, what type of business, Marquis?" Maria was not just pretending interest. Something about this man struck a chord.

"I own several gentlemen's clubs in London and elsewhere. Back in the 1790s, my father, bless his soul, kept an open house in London, and I am afraid he squandered his possessions in the process. By the time he passed away, people were simply used to spending the evening at our house, and when I announced that my funds did not allow me the continuation of our hospitality, friends suggested to contribute to the running of the house. That was when I turned my father's house into a club. I found out that I liked this more than other options, and I eventually opened more clubs. Now I have turned the day to day business over to my son, but I am still quite proud of them. They are the only places in London where a man can find decent food and wines. You are not thinking less of me because I worked for my living, cousin?"

"On the contrary," Maria smiled; being called cousin was unexpected and pleasant.

Suddenly, the coach lurched to a halt. The Marquis looked out of the window and cursed under his breath. They had arrived at his house much too fast for his taste.

"Doña Maria, may I ask you to join me for an evening at the theatre one of the next days? It would give me immense pleasure to get to know you better."

Maria was torn. She knew of his reputation, but she was equally aware of her dormant desire for companionship and happiness, and yes, for love and passion. She had known true passion only for one night in her life, in the cabin on board HMS Clyde and in the arms of Anthony Carter, and she was unwilling to forsake love for the rest of her life. What if he was a womaniser? From what she had heard, he was discreet about his affairs, and his vivid blue eyes had awakened her desire.

"It would be my pleasure, Marquis," she answered, feeling giddy at the same time.

The Marquis kissed her hand before he alighted from the coach.

"Bonne nuit, Madame!" he said, falling back into his French mode for a moment.

"Buenas Noches!" Maria could not help but reply, barely suppressing a silly giggle.

The coach lurched into movement again, and Maria returned to the empty house. She had wished that Antonio and Eleanor would return soon from the country, but now she was not so sure. Perhaps, she thought mischievously, they should enjoy their time together a little more. This would give her a chance to find out if the Marquis had indeed more than a fleeting interest in her.



-------

Chapter 27: A Passage to India

When Richard returned from The Netherlands, rumours abounded already that the mother of the Colombian ambassador had entered into an affair with the notorious Marquis de Ste. Croix. While this would have made for a juicy piece of gossip under any circumstances, the fact that the Marquis had interviewed Doña Maria's son after just two weeks to formally obtain permission to court the lady was just unheard of. Older and more knowledgeable members of London's society of course remembered the Marquis' devotion to his first wife until her untimely death during child birth. For the younger idlers, however, it was a sensation.

For her part, Doña Maria had become a changed woman, looking at least ten years younger, her mature beauty enhanced by an inner glow. It was common knowledge that she and the Marquis spent every free minute in each other's company, visiting the theatre and the salons, travelling in the countryside and eating at the Ste. Croix, the oldest and most prestigious club of the Marquis. He even changed the club's rules, allowing the members to dine with their wives or consorts, a change welcomed by the majority of the members and appreciated by their spouses who could, for the first time, enjoy the exquisite cuisine of the Ste. Croix. For members unwilling to mingle with the fair sex, there was a second dining hall, an arrangement most welcome to the members.

All this and more, Ellen told her husband when they lay in bed together the first night after his return, after their pent up passion was sated. Richard did not know the Marquis, but he had no problems accepting that a mature man could easily fall for the beautiful Spanish lady. He had a good idea that his own father may not have been immune to her charms, and he told Ellen.

"That's easy to imagine," Ellen concurred. "Your father and your mother had broken up during that time, and think how beautiful Maria must have been over twenty years ago! I don't think she had known much happiness in her marriage, and then she had been a prisoner for three years. I used to tease Eleanor that Antonio might just be her half brother, but that is silly, of course."

"Yes, it is, dear. I have seen a painting of Antonio's father, and there is a definitive likeness. The thought alone, good heavens! How does Antonio take to getting a stepfather?"

"Oh, they had a long talk, out on Oxford Manor. Apparently, the Marquis was able to dissuade Antonio's misgivings. They'll spend the next weekend with Antonio and Eleanor."

Richard chuckled softly.

"How does it feel to have been the match maker?"

Ellen laughed happily.

"I did not do a thing. One moment he was busy acting out his routine as charmeur, trying to impress me, the next moment he had lost his French accent along with his heart. The stupid Gainsworth woman could only gape."

"I suggest you keep distance from that woman in the future, darling."

"I will, but I have to invite her at least once in return. I will make sure to have Maria and her Marquis attend, too," she ended with a mischievous grin.

The next weekend, Richard and Ellen, with little Anthony, Mabel, Millicent, and young Sadie, travelled back to Woodbridge Manor to enjoy the last weeks of summer. They were awaited impatiently by Melissa who was eager to continue her series with the second motif, Meeting the Squire. Again, the whole extended family met in the meadow on the river. Richard complained of back pain in the evening, having sat on his bay horse for over four hours, and Ellen had a sore neck from looking up to the 'Squire' just as long. The worst part, however, had been to keep Ricky in position for more than a few seconds. The next day, they had a finishing session, and that was the last nice day in a while. For two weeks, the rain poured down, transforming the roads and paths into mudholes. Temperatures dropped, too, and soon the leaves of the trees turned yellow.

In mid-October, Ellen posed a last time, wearing a water-logged coat and a drooping hat, as well as her old oversized boots. As Melissa had predicted, this last painting was the strongest, conveying the hardness of a shepherd's life during the cold and wet season. Ellen herself shivered whenever she saw the painting, remembering those days of miserable cold and of hunger. Melissa received a more than adequate commission for the paintings which were mounted on the side wall of the dinner room of Woodbridge Manor.

By the end of the month, Richard and Ellen, with their entourage, moved back to London, and the preparations for the passage to India began in earnest. Ellen informed Mabel, the wet nurse, and Millicent that they would accompany her. The girl Sadie who had become a close friend to Millicent and a valuable help around the household asked fervently to be included, and Ellen finally relented. She would be in charge of food during the passage and for the few months in India. Millicent and Sadie were upbeat about the prospect of travelling to India, but Mabel was morose lately. The son of her former master who had been her lover and who had promised to take care of her once he came of age had become engaged a few weeks ago, and no support for Mabel or her daughter ever materialised.

They would travel in the Star of India, a newly built East Indiaman, and as head of the government commission, Richard ranked top among her passengers, assuring them of the most spacious cabin. They were no novices to sea travel anymore, but they sought advice from the Pembrokes with regard to appropriate clothing and the customs of Anglo-Indian society. They also received advice from Colonel Weatherby, another member of the commission and representing the War Office. He was a veteran of several military campaigns in the Subcontinent, and he would travel alone. The third member of the commission, Mr. Samuel York, was from the Trade Ministry, and he would be accompanied by his wife, Mrs. Rebecca York. Richard was by far the youngest of this group, but his rank within the Foreign Office was quite high, he having replaced the hapless Gilbert Hume as head of the Department for Trade Relations. The fourth member was a Director of the East India Company, Mr. Roland Cummings, who would look after the Company's interest. It looked like a stalemate in the commission between free trade proponents, Richard and Mr. York, and those siding with the East India Company.

At the last minute, however, the Admiralty protested against the fact that the War Office was represented, but not the Navy, and the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs relented, offering the Navy a seat in the commission. On the insistence of Sir Robert Norton, this position was filled with none other than Vice-Admiral Sir Anthony Carter. This was a political move since Sir Robert knew the Admiral to be a proponent of free trade, just as Richard and Mr. York. Sir Robert was now assured of a majority in the commission.

Ellen was overjoyed to have her father-in-law accompany them, and of course, he was to be joined by Lady Carter who would not pass on the opportunity to see the Far East. The only one not happy with the development was the Captain of the Star of India, Mr. Hemmings, who fretted over the prospect of a real life Admiral, and a veteran of Trafalgar at that, who would criticise his every manoeuvre. There was no love lost between the Company and the Navy in the first place, and Mr. Hemmings expected grating comments from Sir Anthony.

The next three weeks went by in a flurry of last minute activities for all involved. Harriet and Ellen decided to share the services of Millicent and Sadie rather than bringing along even more servants. Of course, Sir Anthony was accompanied by the ever faithful Mr. Little whose wife grudgingly granted permission for her husband to go on one last journey with his admiral. Lucy would have loved to accompany them, as would her husband, but his practice did not allow any longer absence. Therefore, on a Sunday in mid-November, the Star of India weighed anchor and left the Pool of London on her maiden voyage to India.

Sensing the apprehension of Captain Hemmings, Sir Anthony made a point of staying in his cabin during the up-anchor manoeuvres, and he only joined the rest of the passengers when the ship was well under way. The accommodations were nothing short of luxurious compared to a man o' war, and the passengers were comfortable staying under deck most of the time while the Star of India fought her way westward through the Channel and through icy rain. Of course, Sir Anthony would walk the quarter deck from time to time, but he never wore his uniform, and he never interfered with the running of the ship other than shooting the sun with his sextant at noontime to check their progress. Captain Hemmings' apprehensions slowly vanished, and when they reached warmer latitudes, the Captain and his illustrious passenger could often be seen in friendly discussion.

Crossing the equator occasioned celebrations on board. The crew was fresh, and many a sailor had his customary rites when crossing the equator for the first time. The passengers were included in the harmless fun, and Richard as well as Mr. York from Trade had to suffer through a baptism ceremony. The women, of course, were excluded from these proceedings, but they watched the fun nevertheless. Even little Anthony received his rites when the boatswain rubbed a little sea water on his forehead. John Little, for his part, related the story of how he, just a little east of their current position, had been rescued from a small boat by the Medusa frigate in 1799 after he had escaped from a slaver ship.

"Best thing that could happen to me," he said, "found my place in life in the Navy."

A few days later, they cast anchor at Saint Helena. With the Emperor Napoleon dead, Saint Helena once again was little more than a rock in the South Atlantic where British ships took fresh water en route to India. The Governor and his wife were more than happy to invite the passengers for dinner. He was a Rear Admiral, and he and Sir Anthony were vaguely acquainted. The whole group made use of the brief stay and walked across the island. It felt good to exercise the legs again and to have unlimited use of fresh water.

Little Anthony and Mabel's daughter Sally had been real troopers during the passage so far. Fortunately, they were not teething yet and if anything, the rolling motions of the big ship served to pacify them even more. Both had grown considerably, though, and Ellen felt the weight when she carried her son on her arm.

After four days, the ships weighed anchor again. The gentle weather continued until they reached the Cape of Good Hope where they had to endure a week of choppy waves and shrieking winds before they reached the Indian Ocean. Sailing south of Madagascar, the waves continued to be choppy, but then the sailing became smooth again when they started across the vast expanse of the Indian Ocean.

Finally, after almost five months, the ship sailed past Ceylon and changed to a NNE course into the Bay of Bengal. A month later, the Star of India sailed into the mouth of Hooghli River and cast anchor in what was the centre of British India.

For the next days, while Richard and his father organised proper accommodations for their stay in Calcutta, Ellen with her mother in law, her child and her servants remained on board the Star of India, watching in rapt attention as the cargo was transferred to lighters and brought ashore. Dark-skinned men, many of them frightfully undernourished, did the hard labour of moving the cargo from the hold, while the land breeze brought them the smells of the city. Richard and his father would return in the evenings, full of tales of a strange country. Sir Anthony had never been to India before, although his service had once brought him into the Great South Sea and to Australia, and he was as fascinated with the new experience as was his son.

After the second day ashore, they announced that lodgings had been procured in the house of one of the Directors of the East India Company who was presently visiting London. The next morning, after a last breakfast as guests of Captain Hemmings with whom they had become good friends, the extended Carter family was brought ashore where several coaches were waiting for them. Again, Ellen noticed the emaciated state of the dock workers. On the busy streets, she saw women wearing beautifully arranged but strange clothing. She had already learned that the traditional women's garb was called a sari, and she could not help but admire the way the gay colours brought out the dark beauty of the women. Of course, with her long blonde hair in a waist-long braid, Ellen herself was the target of stunned looks, as was Harriet Carter with her reddish-blonde hair.

After just twenty minutes, the coaches arrived at a stately house of three stories, in the middle of a lush green garden. Strange birds could be seen and heard, and flowers of all shape and colours pleased the eyes. They alighted from the coach in front of an imposing front steps, and at least twenty servants were lined up on the steps and waiting for them. An old and dignified looking gentleman of colour bowed deeply and welcomed them to his master's home.

To their surprise, they were shown bedrooms on the third floor. While Ellen and Harriet first thought this to be a snub, a smiling Richard soon clarified things. The mosquitoes that pestered all warm-blooded beings all through the night did not fly as high as the third floor, and thus the upstairs rooms were reserved for the owners and their honoured guests. Still, drapes of gauze enclosed the beds to ward off any flying pests and ensure a safe and relaxed sleep. While the fevers known as malaria were not too frequent in Calcutta, caution was still applied, and the guests were advised not to walk the garden at night without a veil.

The major domo then announced that two nurses had been hired to feed the infants of the distinguished visitors. Ellen was irritated and tried to explain that she and Mabel were up to this task, but the major domo explained that children fed by native women were less likely to contract the dreaded fevers. He clapped his hands sharply, and two women appeared, bowing demurely. One was definitely a matron, but the second was but a girl. Without much ado, the two nurses approached their new charges. Seeing the two well-fed infants, they exchanged quick words, laughing while they did.

Indeed, little Anthony and Sally were strong and healthy. Both had started to walk in the last weeks of the voyage, quite a feat on the unsteady deck of a ship. Sir Anthony had been quite moved, telling everybody how he himself had done his first steps on his father's schooner. The children were shy at first with the new and strangely dark faces, but little Anthony soon discovered that the milk from the black-haired woman tasted just as good as from his regular nurse. Sally took a while longer, but in the end, hunger prevailed.

After unpacking their clothes, a group of servants began the task of washing the salt from the garments while others offered fruits and tea. Harriet and Ellen, for the first time in their lives, tasted bananas, and after that experience, Ellen raised no complaints when the nurses proceeded to feed the children mashed bananas. Anthony liked that so much that he raised a fuss when his banana was finished. The young nurse would not give in, though. In her peculiar English, for she spoke the language quite well, she told Ellen that the children needed to adapt to the new food, and Ellen was satisfied that her son was in capable hands.

A bell was sounded when lunch was prepared and the family congregated in a dining hall on the second floor. For the first time, the Carters tasted Indian food. Knowing this, the cook had held back on the curry, but for their unaccustomed palates, the food tasted extremely hot. Only Sir Anthony and Harriet, accustomed to West Indian cooking, had no such problems, and they teased Richard and Ellen good-naturedly.

After lunch, they all slipped into the beds for an afternoon nap, a sensible custom in the sweltering heat. Soon, the monsoon would bring relief, but as it was, the noon temperatures made Ellen dizzy. Fortunately, it cooled off slightly in the evening, and they were shown the beautiful garden while a servant walked in front of them, banging sticks. When Richard inquired for the reason, the old major domo answered gravely.

"He is making noise, your Lordship, to scare away any snakes that may lie in our way. You must never walk the garden in the dusk alone. We have many poisonous snakes, and the bite of a cobra or a small krait will kill a person."

Ellen almost smiled seeing the reaction of her family. While Harriet held her husband's arm tighter, she saw the Admiral's hand grip the hilt of his sword. Richard held Ellen closer to himself as if to protect her, while Mabel, Millicent and Sadie cast uneasy glances in all directions.

After the stroll, the women retired to the upper floor, while Richard and his father left by coach to have a first conference with the Governor General. Sir Anthony was almost melting under his heavy dress uniform, and Richard was mopping his forehead frequently, too.

At Government House they received a friendly reception. His Excellency welcomed Sir Anthony with a furious handshake. He had not forgotten how the boat crew of HMS Asia had once evacuated him on the Spanish coast in a daring operation when he had been cut off from Wellington's main force with his regiment, and the two men recalled that experience briefly. Then, Sir Anthony presented Richard as his son, and again his Excellency beamed with pleasure to welcome the son of his onetime saviour. Richard was more than relieved. He had anticipated a difficult relationship with the GG, seeing that government delegations were seldom welcomed in the outposts of the realm. The fact that His Lordship was indebted to his father already justified Sir Anthony's presence in Calcutta. Then His Excellency presented both of them to Lady Hastings, his wife, who welcomed the guests with obvious pleasure. When she heard that both men were accompanied by their wives, she became even more excited. While Harriet was not overly well known in society, she had heard of Ellen and her famed beauty, and she was eager to ascertain that reputation with her own eyes. Consequently, the members of the delegation were invited for the very next evening to a private dinner with the GG and his wife.

Given the good personal accord between Sir Anthony and the GG, Richard held back in the ensuing consultations. He made notes and listened to the exchange between the local administration officials and the specialists of his delegation. Problems were identified and noted for future discussions. All in all, it was a fruitful evening at the end of which the men toasted King William and agreed to meet again two days later.

Richard and his father rode the coach back to their temporary residence, and they were both in thought. Sir Anthony broke the silence first.

"You did not know at first that the GG and I are old friends?"

Richard looked up. "No father, I had no idea. But it is a stroke of luck for our delegation. We started off quite pleasantly. I shall not broach the subject of direct rule until the last moment. We need to reach agreements on the other points first."

"Do they really want to impose direct rule? As it is, the Company is reduced to the administration of the colonies already."

"Not at once, father. If you think of it, though, it is an anachronism that a company rules a vast subcontinent. Add to this that the financial situation of the Company is not sound either. They don't pay their soldiers as they should, and there is too much nepotism and corruption. I think, in a couple of years, we shall see direct rule by the government."

Sir Anthony reflected this.

"For direct rule, we need faster connections with the homeland. Six to eight months of travel are not tolerable."

"You are absolutely correct in this assessment, father. They talk about a route through the Mediterranean Sea. There is need for a brief land crossing, but then there is a water connection from the Red Sea, I believe, into the Indian Ocean. Perhaps, we can learn more about this when we visit Bombay on the return trip."

"From what I have heard, the Red Sea is a treacherous water way. Too many shoals and reefs. That is where a steam ships would come in handy. I should hate to sail a heavy Indiaman through these waters."

Both men had no way of knowing that just a few months ago, a small steam ship, the Hugh Lindsay had made her first trip from Bombay to Suez, at a ridiculous expense of coal, to be sure, but nevertheless successfully.

When they arrived at the residence, the women were already asleep, and they both did their best to slip into their respective beds without waking them.

Over the next day, the women were more than busy to extract their dresses and ornery from the trunks and chests. Irons were heated, collars were starched until Harriet and Ellen, but even more so Millicent and Rosie were satisfied that their mistresses would attend the dinner at Government House dressed as they should.

The early dusk had not settled yet when the Carters and the Lamberts climbed into a coach to rattle over the dusty streets towards the Governor's mansion. Col. Weatherby and the Yorks were already there while Mr. Cummings had obviously excused himself. Lady Hastings was pleased to welcome her guests, even more so when it transpired that Harriet was best friends with Lady Broughton with whom Lady Hastings was well acquainted. Soon the women were engulfed in a lively discussion, and the men were happy enough to retire to a different room until they were called to the dining hall.

During dinner, it became apparent that Rebecca York was not treated with the same friendliness as the other guests, and Ellen deduced that Lady Hastings harboured reservations against Jews. That irked her considerably because Rebecca York had been a good companion to her during the outward journey, and she made a point of including the shy, dark haired woman into the conversation. Harriet soon caught on and Lady Hastings, not slow on the uptake, noticed her guests' misgivings and corrected her behaviour hastily. The Governor, by contrast, needed no such prodding. Samuel York was an altogether too important and knowledgeable man, and it was known that he had the ear of his minister. His Excellency, therefore, was careful to treat all his guests with his trademark jovial friendliness.

Wines and spirits were offered, but except for the Colonel, the guests drank sparingly. Sir Anthony had never been known to drink excessively, and Richard had learned his lesson, too. Both sipped on their glasses dutifully, but they took care not to overindulge. For the women, to drink excessively, was completely out of the question. Therefore, when the massive clock stroke the eleventh hour, the conversation was animated but controlled. This all came to an end, when excited exchange could be heard from the entrance. Soon, His Excellency's butler appeared rather hurriedly and whispered into His Lordship's ear.

"Milord, Lady Lambert, I'm afraid there has been an incident in your residence. One of your maids is outside. Perhaps you want to interview her?" the Governor said gravely.

Ellen was up from her chair in an instance, her chair toppling over with a crash, and she rushed towards the entrance with Richard at her heels. All she could think was that something must have happened to little Anthony.

In the huge foyer, there was Sadie, her blouse sweat-soaked, her hair dishevelled, and quite out of breath. When she saw Ellen, she rushed forward.

"Please, m'lady, you must come home immediately! Mabel, she was bitten by a snake! She's dying, m'lady! Millicent was bitten too. Oh please, you must come!"



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Chapter 28: Doctor Donovan

The springs and axles of the coach groaned and squeaked as the driver urged the horses on with his whip. Sleeping dogs jumped up and out of their way, and the native people looked after them with displeasure, since they disturbed humans and animals with their par force drive. In less than ten minutes, the coach lurched to a halt in front of the tall mansion, and Richard had to restrain Ellen from rushing ahead. As it was, they made a fast enough entrance. But nobody was at the door to check their rush, and they followed the sound of excited babble from the servant's quarters.

When they entered Mabel's room, Ellen immediately saw that Mabel was beyond help. Her face was swollen and contorted with pain, and her body thrashed on the bed in painful spasms. The matronly nurse, Noga, was holding burning opium under the young woman's nose, obviously in an attempt to lessen her pain. When Ellen and Richard entered, the woman looked up and shook her head sadly, the gesture confirming Ellen's first assessment. Ellen bent over the poor girl and touched her forehead, almost jerking her hand away when she felt the heat.

She sighed heavily. But then the thought of Millicent electrified her. Once more, she let her hand caress the doomed girl's face before she stood again and left the room for Millicent's chamber.

Millicent was awake, and she did not look half as bad as poor Mabel. Sadie was already at her side again, as was the younger of the nurses, Neeta. In a flash, Ellen sat on the side of Millicent's bed and took her hand.

"Millicent, can you hear me?" she asked tentatively.

The girl nodded, but her pretty features were contorted with pain.

"What happened, please?" Ellen continued.

"We were in our common room, m'lady, having supper. Master Carter had already been fed and cleaned, and Mabel was feeding Sally. When she was finished, she let her run around in the common room. May I have some water?"

"Of course," Ellen answered, pouring her a glass.

When she had taken a few sips, Millicent continued.

"I don't rightly know what happened. One minute we were talking and being merry, and the next moment Mabel was running around the room, looking for Sally. The door must have been unlocked and she was gone.

"Of course, we all went to search for her, and then we saw that the door to the garden was open, too. Mabel and I ran into the garden, afraid what might happen to Sally. I think, Sadie ran to fetch Mr. Gafur. Outside, Mabel and I split up. We were stupid, m'lady, we did not have torches, we searched in the dark. Then I heard Mabel. She shouted that she had found Sally.

"I started walking back to the house when I heard Mabel's scream. I ran to her following her screams, and then I saw her lying on the grass, covering Sally with her body. When I came near to her, something struck my ankle, and then I saw the snake. It was a hooded one, like we saw at the market with the snake charmer. Then I realised it had bitten me, too.

"Poor Mabel was whimpering in pain, she could not get up. She begged me to bring Sally to safety. I took the little girl and ran to the house for help. Just then, Sadie came with Neeta and Mr. Gafur. I told them about Mabel, and Mr. Gafur had this huge blunderbuss, and he shot the snake dead. Then they brought Mabel in, and she was in pain and could not breathe. So I told Sadie to run and fetch you."

"You did well, Millicent," Ellen assured the scared girl, but she thought of Mabel, and she felt an obstruction in her throat. Compared with Millicent, Mabel looked horrible. The young nurse, Neeta, tapped Ellen's hand.

"It was King Cobra, memsahib, very big. People die from bite. But Mill'cent here was lucky, snake bite shoe, leather, tooth not go deep. Not much bite. Will live."

"Are you sure?" Ellen asked.

The girl made a face, and Ellen saw that her question was unfair. Just then, Harriet Carter entered, and her grave face showed that she had been with Mabel. She shook her head sadly, and Ellen realised that Harriet, too, feared the worst for the young woman. She was relieved to see that Millicent was conscious and had no swelling at all. When there was a bustle from the entrance hall, both women turned their faces to the door. Richard entered with a young man in a black coat.

"This is Doctor Donovan. The governor sent him."

Ellen rose and the good Doctor stared at her wistfully for a fraction of a second.

"Your servant, milady," he mumbled embarrassedly. "Is this the young lady who was bitten?"

"She is one of two, Doctor, and she is the one who is faring better."

"Then, with your permission, I should see the other first."

Ellen nodded and led the young doctor into Mabel's room. She heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw the puffed-up face of the young woman, and he rushed to her side. He felt her temperature, pinched her skin, forced open her eyes, and finally looked at her leg where she had been bitten. Ellen had to avert her eyes at the sight of the discoloured flesh. The word gangrene, often discussed by her stepfather and -mother, came to her mind. The doctor then had a brief exchange in Bengali with the older nurse, and then turned to speak to Ellen and Harriet who had followed them.

"Lady Lambert, Lady Carter, I fear there is nothing I can do about her. She is almost paralysed already, and her breathing is shallow. There is also mortification at the site of the bite. Even if she survives the next hours, the gangrene will prove fatal. I told the nurse to keep the opium burning to take away the worst pain, but that is all we can do."

"There is no hope?" Ellen asked. Harriet was silent. She had seen death in her younger years, and she had recognised the signs.

"There is always hope, milady," the young doctor answered. "But we need a miracle. May I see the other patient now?"

They returned to Millicent's chamber, and Doctor Donovan examined her much the same as he had probed poor Mabel. When he examined the bite on Millicent's calf, he was beet red and flustered for Millicent had very pretty feet, and her legs were well-formed.

"Miss Err... ," he started, and Millicent smiled weakly.

"Millicent, Doctor, Millicent Wade," she said.

"Err, yes, Miss Millicent. I see no mortification at the bite, and the punctures are not deep at all. Nothing like any snake bite I've seen before. You have been wearing boots?"

Millicent nodded.

"You may have been lucky. So far, I see no signs of swelling or weakness of breathing. Are you in pain?"

The girl nodded. "My ankle burns something terrible, and my tummy hurts, too."

"Can you stand it? I could give you laudanum, to suppress the pain, but it would weaken your breathing, and that could be dangerous later. Right now, I recommend cold vinegar bandages on your leg, and somebody should keep a close watch and call me if there is a change. I am sorry to intrude on you, milady, but is there a room where I can spend the night. I should hate to leave either of my patients tonight."

"Of course, Doctor," Ellen replied, and she rang the bell.

Mr. Gafur appeared.

"Please, could you ready a room for the Doctor? He needs to stay overnight."

"Certainly, memsahib, I will see to it personally."

"And can you have somebody bring vinegar and a clean cloth?"

He bowed and turned to leave, but Ellen spoke up once more.

"I wanted to thank you, too, for rushing to help my servants."

Under his dark skin, the old major domo blushed. He was not used to receiving such considerate treatment from the English. From this moment on, Ellen had a new and fervent admirer.

Doctor Donovan was surprised, too. The more he saw of Lady Lambert, the more impressed he became. She was honestly concerned about her servants, and he had seen the tears in her eyes when he told her the truth about Mabel's chances. And now she went out of her way, in spite of all the distress, to thank the old caretaker for his decisive action. Here was a true Lady, he thought. At first sight, he had almost dismissed her as a pretty thing who had married above her stand. But the short time had already convinced him that she was a woman to be reckoned with. He had business to attend, though. He turned to the small nurse who knelt at Millicent's bed.

"Neeta, is it? Did you understand about what is needed? Mr. Gafur will bring vinegar. Mix one third vinegar and two thirds water and soak a cloth in it. Then wrap it around her leg where she was bitten. Place another cloth on her tummy, where it hurts. Can you do that?"

The young woman nodded.

"Can you stay awake and come for me if something changes?"

Neeta nodded again, but then she remembered something.

"Memsahib, Salih needs her milk. If I stay here, and Noga with Mabel, who feed her?"

Ellen needed a second to understand Neeta's way of saying Sally's name, but then she shrugged.

"I shall do it," she said. And while Doctor Donovan sat at Mabel's bed, trying desperately to bring down the swelling and to lessen her pain, Ellen sat in a chair in her bedroom, feeding Mabel's daughter.

When Richard joined her, he looked surprised, but whatever comment he had in mind died stillborn when Ellen looked up with her tear-streaked face. He tried to find the right words.

"I spoke with the Doctor. Poor Mabel is getting weaker."

Ellen looked down at the little girl in her arms.

"Poor darling," she whispered. But then, a look of determination replaced the sorrow in her features. "Richard, can we keep little Sally? She shared her mother's milk with our son. I cannot leave her to the mercy of some orphanage. We must at least bring her back to England."

Richard nodded. He had expected nothing less from his wife. An orphan herself, she had to sympathise with the infant.

"Of course, Ellen, she can stay with us," he answered with an encouraging smile.

"Thank you, dear," Ellen answered, letting out the breath she had unwittingly held. She held the sated girl to her shoulder to let her burp, and was rewarded with a sunny smile. Ellen felt the tears start again, and she hastily stood to bring the girl into the nursery. Richard knew better than to comment, and she was thankful for his tact.

In the nursery, she was astonished to see the older nurse who was feeding Anthony. One look at the teary eyed woman told Ellen enough, and with a heavy sob, she put Sally into her crib. She waited for a few more minutes until the small girl was asleep, then she walked over to kiss her feeding son and steeled herself.

The few feet to Mabel's chamber were taxing her resolve, but at last, she opened the door. Mabel was already covered with a white shroud and two servant she did not know were placing flowers around her. Doctor Donovan sat with his forehead on his arms, but he rose when he heard Ellen.

"She passed away half an hour ago, milady. She had no chance. I am sorry."

Ellen breathed deeply. Again, death had struck close to her, and she was fighting for composure.

"How is Millicent?" she asked, suddenly remembering her.

Doctor Donovan blushed. "Forgive me, milady, but I have not looked at her for over an hour."

Ellen waved her hand to dismiss the unneeded apology, and together, they went into Millicent's chamber.

Neeta sat beside Millicent, wiping her face with a wet cloth. The leg with the bite was wrapped in another cloth, and the room was filled with the smell of vinegar. Neeta looked up when they entered, and her eyes conveyed her question. Ellen's sad shake of her head was answer enough obviously, and to her surprise, Ellen saw that the young Bengali woman wiped tears from her eyes.

"How is Millicent?" Ellen asked softly.

"She is sleeping, Memsahib. Smelly cloth take away pain in leg. No pain. You want I feed son or little Salih?"

Ellen shook her head. "Anthony is still sleeping, and Sally had her milk. You can go to bed now. I will take over for a while."

Doctor Donovan looked up in surprise, but then he conceded that this fit with his changed view of this young woman.

"May I stay, Memsahib?" Neeta asked apologetically. "Can not sleep."

"Of course, Neeta, stay," Ellen answered.

In the meantime, Doctor Donovan had had a look at the leg, and he let out a breath.

"It is too early to commit myself, milady, but the signs are good. I see no mortification around the bite, her breathing is strong, and if she sleeps it means that the pain is not as strong anymore."

"Thank god," Ellen breathed. "It is bad enough as it is, but to lose Millicent, too, would be unbearable."

Doctor Donovan was watching Millicent's face intently until he realised that he owed Ellen an answer.

"She is incredibly lucky, milady. If it was really a King Cobra, it is unheard of to survive the bite. Her boot must have prevented the worst. That and the fact that it had bitten Mabel just before and expended its venom."

"Is there anything we should do for her?"

"She should drink water, or better yet, tea when she wakes up. But you should go to sleep, milady. I am sure that Neeta here will be able to take care of her."

Neeta nodded vigourously. "I call Doctor when she wakes. No need for Memsahib to sit. Better sleep."

"If you think so," Ellen relented. She was not looking forward to spending a night on a wooden chair, and she was thankful for Neeta's willingness to continue her vigil. Ellen and Doctor Donovan left the room, but outside, the good Doctor had yet another question.

"If you will excuse my curiosity, milady, but how long have you known Miss, eh, Millicent."

The ghost of a smile crept over Ellen's lips. Millicent was a very pretty girl, and this explained the Doctor's interest.

"Millicent Wade has been with our family for the past three years. She had fled from her previous position to escape the unwanted attention of the farmer, and we found her, half-starved, in a disused gatekeeper's lodge on our grounds where she was hiding. She was quite uneducated, but she picked up on reading and writing and numbers since then. I completely rely on her with my household, except that she could not cook to save her life. We brought along Sadie for that."

"So she is an orphan?"

Ellen gave the young Doctor a friendly nod.

"The smallpox. But you should ask her questions like that personally. I suppose it is quite difficult to find girls as pretty as Millicent here in Calcutta?"

Doctor Donavan blushed a red so deep, Ellen could see it even in the dim light of the candles.

"I am not of good family, milady, my father was but a farmer, and I am not acceptable to most families here."

"You mean you are not of rich family, Doctor. A farmer's family is as good as any other. But I can see where your problem lies. You will always be welcome to visit us while we are in residence here. I have no prejudice against the medical profession, you see. My stepfather, whom I admire strongly, is Sir Jonathan Wilkes," she added with a smile.

"You are Sir Jonathan's daughter?" Donovan exclaimed, forgetting that the rest of the house was asleep, but he realised his gaffe. "I'm sorry. But I have heard his lectures when he visited Edinburgh six years ago, and I try to apply his principles in my own work."

"He will be pleased to hear that, I am sure," Ellen answered friendly. "Should you ever visit London, I can arrange for you to meet him and my stepmother."

They parted company, then, and while Ellen went upstairs to her and Richard's bedroom, Doctor Donovan rested on the bed prepared for him. He could not sleep. Too much had happened. The terrible death of the poor girl Mabel had shaken him considerably, and his own helplessness had been frustrating. However, the grim pictures of Mabel were soon replaced in his mind by the face of Millicent Wade. He had rarely seen a more desirable girl, and the thought of how he had examined her calf and her belly aroused him while he lay on the cot.

Then he thought of the coincidence of meeting the stepdaughter of the man who had influenced his professional life so much. Perhaps, with her help, he could hope for a position in Sir Jonathan's staff, a lofty goal. Should he ask her? Everything depended on knowing the right people, he knew. This was a golden opportunity.

He finally fell into a half sleep, dreaming about a practice in London with a pretty, brown-haired wife at his side. Other dreams crept in, too, involving slender legs and a flat belly, and he needed all his willpower to keep his hands away from his hardening manhood.

During the night, Ellen had found solace in Richard's arms, and he had held her when silent sobs shook her body. In spite of the short night, she woke up early, though. Throwing on a gown, she found her way to Millicent's room. She heard voices before she entered the chamber. She found the Doctor sitting on the side of the bed, speaking earnestly to Millicent whose eyes were teary and red. No doubt, Doctor Donovan had just told her about Mabel.

Millicent looked up when she heard the door close, and her eyes filled with tears again.

"I just heard about poor Mabel. I'm so sorry, milady. I should not have left her walk alone in the dark garden. What will happen to poor Sally now?"

"Sssh, Millicent, this was not your fault. You were both worried about Sally. And don't worry about Sally. She will stay with us, and I will care for her."

"Will you do that? You have a good heart, milady."

"Say nothing of it. I spoke to His Lordship, and we are in perfect agreement on this. Now, most importantly, how do you feel?"

"Weak, but the terrible pain is gone. Doctor Donovan told me how lucky I was. If only Mabel had worn her boots, too, but she said her feet were swollen from the heat."

"Hush, Miss Wade," the Doctor interjected. "It was a deplorable accident for which you bear no responsibility."

"The Doctor is right, Millicent," Ellen agreed. "We are all sad about Mabel, and we felt for her. Let us mourn her. And then we shall take care of her daughter and give her a loving upbringing."

Millicent nodded, sniffing one more time.

"Speaking of which, Neeta, the children should be hungry. Shall we go and feed them?"

The young woman proudly shook her head.

"Noga bring them here, and we feed them. They back, Noga play with them."

"You are a treasure, Neeta," Ellen stated with conviction. "I want you to go to bed now. You have done more than your share, and I want you to rest. Doctor, do you think Millicent may be able to get up and have breakfast with us? I would ask you to join us, too, of course."

Doctor Donovan had no objections, and with the help of Sadie, Millicent dressed and was led down to the dining room. It was a subdued breakfast. The impending funeral weighed on everybody's mind. There was no way of delaying the ceremony, not with the prevailing temperatures. Sir Anthony and Richard had made the necessary arrangements. While the local people were cremated, the Anglican Church did not allow for such rites. Therefore, there would be a burial in the afternoon.

Richard had done more than organise Mabel's interment. He had been to the GG's residence, and towards the end of the breakfast, he spoke up.

"Dear Mother, Father, and my dear Ellen, I want you to know that I went to His Excellency this morning. The papers will be written and signed tomorrow, but for all purposes I have been appointed guardian of the orphan Sally Tompkins until such time when the adoption will be final. Ellen and I will raise the little girl as our own."

For a few seconds, the elder Carters digested this, but when Harriet looked at her son, there was approval in her eyes.

"If you had not done it, I would have," she said. "Although she will fare better with a younger mother."

"You will be her grandmother then," Ellen reminded Harriet and was rewarded with an approving smile.

Ellen gave her husband an earnest look, trying to convey the gratitude she felt. The look he sent back to her said more than enough. He had taken those steps of adopting little Sally because he knew how strongly Ellen, an orphan herself, felt about it. Instead of just acquiescing in her plan to look after the infant, he had gone further and anticipated her true wishes. She loved him for it. Since their wedding, nay, since their reconciliation, the connection between them became stronger and stronger the more they learned about each other.

The silent interplay between the young couple did not go unnoticed by the other people in the room, least of all Harriet Carter. She thanked heaven for the stroke of luck that had sent Ellen their way. Much of why she was proud of her son these days was due to his devotion to his young wife.

James Donovan was watching them, too, and he felt like an intruder. The deep level of understanding between Lord and Lady Lambert was an eye opener to him. He knew he would never be content with anything less after this day. And then, when he averted his glance from Lady Lambert, he looked into the eyes of Millicent Wade. In this moment, he realised that dreaming of her would do no good to him. He had to assert himself, he had to woe her, fight for her if need be. He had to do anything to prevent her from leaving his life again. He took a deep breath and swallowed.

"Miss Wade, once you have recovered sufficiently, would you find it possible to accompany me for an afternoon? I could show you a little of this astounding city." He was in awe of his own audacity as soon as the words had left his mouth.

Millicent blushed deeply. This was a learned man, a doctor and physician, almost like Sir Jonathan, her mistress' father. And he asked her out? What would he want of her? She was no fitting consort for a learned man, not she who had mucked out pig pens until she ran away from the farmer. Not she, who had to serve that farmer with her hands, had to endure his lewd touches, his pinches.

"I think it would do poor Millicent the world of good to have some distraction, my dear Doctor," Millicent heard her mistress say, and she hardly believed her ears. "Millicent, you should really take up the Doctor on his invitation. You cannot spend our entire stay in this house."

Millicent felt panic well up inside her. What should she answer, and how should she speak her mind?

"This is most kind of you, Doctor," she almost whispered.

"It's agreed then," Lady Lambert said with just a trace of smugness in her voice. "I shall let you have Sunday off."

Hardly knowing what to answer, Millicent thought it best to just nod. The joy in Doctor Donavan's eyes made her feel warm, though.

That warmth was what Millicent needed when her friend Mabel was laid to rest in the afternoon. In spite of the sweltering heat, Millicent shivered, thinking of how it could be her in that coffin had she not worn the sturdy boots her mistress had given her as a present before they left England. She thought how lucky she was that it had been this golden haired angel who had found her, on that day when she had felt like a cornered fox. And who had taken her in to be her confidential servant. She would always be grateful and loyal to Lord Lambert, but his wife she loved and adored with almost religious fervour.

The ceremony was done in great dignity by the GG's own minister who made no mention of the fact that Mabel had born a child out of wedlock, but rather portrayed her as a mother who had sacrificed herself for her daughter. As such, he assured the family and their servants, Mabel would find mercy before the Lord. The minister's flow of words accelerated towards the end of the ceremony, and he stopped rather abruptly, leaving the mourners puzzled until they, too, saw the dark clouds appearing between the tall trees. The local servants rushed the family to the coaches and they raced back to the big house.

Not long after they had alighted from the coaches and sat down for a solemn supper, the first drops of rain could be heard, and then a solid wall of water came down from the skies. The monsoon had arrived.



-------

Chapter 29: A Business Concluded

Never would Ellen have imagined the amount of rain she saw over the next weeks. This was nothing like the perpetual cold drizzle that had drenched her in her shepherdess days. Nothing like the heavy thunderstorms of midsummer, nothing like the autumn gales she had seen in her childhood. Within days, her every possessions were damp, and it took a major effort and lots of coal to get Anthony's and Sally's diapers dry after washing. After two weeks, mildew appeared almost everywhere, and the smell assaulted the noses of the people in the large house.

There was little they could do during the weeks of the monsoon. Of course, Richard and his father attended the meetings with the colonial administration, and they were busy, together with the other members of the commission, to write their reports. Sir Anthony proved his worth by applying his logical thinking to the questions at hand, finding a kindred soul in Mr. York. Richard, on the other hand, excelled in something vastly more difficult: balancing the egos of the people involved. With the future of the Indian possession at stake, most of the people involved in the negotiations also held their own interests high, and it was Richard, time and again, who found the middle ground.

On the social front, it was Ellen who did her best to break the ice with the local society. Harriet Carter was no great help in this regard because she had never even tried her hand in tea room politics. Ellen, on the other hand, had been a diligent student of that art under old Lady Lambert's tutelage, and within a few weeks, she had mustered solid support for Richard among Calcutta's society. Most importantly, she was able to win the heart of Lady Hastings, the GG's wife. She had heard a snide comment about Lady Hastings from one of the merchants' wives, implying that Lady Hastings had been but a pretty farm girl when Major Hubert Hastings met her. It was easy for Ellen to drop a comment about her shepherding days, and Lady Hastings was more than delighted to find that Lady Lambert was not born with a silver spoon in her mouth either. Once the ice between the two women was broken, it was easy for Ellen to bring the friendly personality of her hostess to the surface.

The GG noticed the friendship of his wife with the young woman, and he was grateful. For his wife, once she dropped her guard around Ellen, also opened up to her husband again, at least in private, and that made Lord Hastings a very happy man. Ellen, and by association Richard, moved up in his Excellency's esteem.

All this made for a productive stay in Bombay. There came an evening, eight weeks after the onset of the monsoon, when the GG, after a long afternoon of final deliberations, called for brandy and cigars. The men solemnly drank to the health of William IV. Then they lit the cigars and smoked quietly until his Excellency stood.

"Gentlemen, I want to thank everyone of you for the sincere efforts you put into these deliberations. I think we can all agree that the resolution we will submit to His Majesty's Government will serve to strengthen British rule in India and in the adjoining territories. While I must praise all those of you involved in this important effort, I would like to single out the son of my old friend Sir Anthony. My dear Lord Lambert, we would have faced far more difficulties had it not been for your fair and considerate moderation. Although you are the youngest in our group by a fair measure, you have acted with the wisdom and tact of a much older person. This is in large part your achievement which to acknowledge I shall not begrudge you. My respect to a great diplomat in the making!"

"Hear hear!" the other gentlemen joined in, and Richard blushed furiously.

"Excellency, father, gentlemen, I fail to see why I should be singled out. This has been a joint effort, and as far as I see it, a joint success. There is a saying that success has many fathers while failure is an orphan. In this case, our success truly has all of you as fathers, and I thank you for the fatherly way you have helped a young man gather his first experiences in the difficult field of negotiations."

Sir Anthony clapped Richard's shoulder.

"Well spoken, my son. And thank you for not being a failure, for it would have been nigh on impossible for me to deny fatherhood!"

That set off general laughter and eased Richard's embarrassment. Inwardly, he glowed with pride at the praise he received. But there came the GG and put his arm around Richard's shoulder, leading him away from the table.

"You should also thank your charming wife. She really had everybody here wrapped around her pretty fingers. I must admit that I did not see beyond her impressive physical charms at first. But she is a force to be reckoned with. You are truly blessed, my young friend."

"And don't I know this," Richard answered sincerely.

"A word of advice from an older man: look for a nice gift for her to acknowledge her help. Make sure to convey your appreciation. Too many men take their wives for granted. I did, too. Do not fall into that trap."

Richard considered the words, and he saw the truth in them. He pictured Ellen, how she had attended all those soirees and receptions to help smooth the way for his work, in spite of the grief she had felt for Mabel.

"I hear there are very talented goldsmiths in Bombay?" he asked by way of answering.

"Come tomorrow. My aide de camp will show you to one of the best. Make sure you have sufficient funds though," the GG answered smiling broadly and led him back to the table where the second bottle of brandy was almost empty.

It was very late when two merrily drunk men returned to the mansion, only to be scolded good-naturedly by Harriet and Ellen. Nevertheless, Ellen helped her husband to bed and held him tightly while the world was spinning. Yes, he decided, he was blessed.

Richard woke up, badly hung over, late the next morning. At breakfast, he saw that his father did not feel much better, and that gave him some solace. Ellen and Harriet watched their husbands with benevolent amusement, and even Sadie could not quite hide the smirk on her face while she poured tea for them.

"So tell me, Tony, what was the occasion for you to throw your caution to the wind?" Harriet asked curiously. She could not remember her husband being hung over ever.

"The damn GG insisted on us drinking his cheap brandy," Sir Anthony croaked. "Oh, that reminds me: we're supposed to come to a reception tomorrow evening, to celebrate the completion of the draft agreement. Now that the blasted rain has finally stopped, there will be a garden party."

"Oh splendid," Harriet responded, happy with the prospect of a reprise after weeks of torrential rains had forced them to stay inside. "We had better air out our dresses then, Ellen. Have Millicent see to it."

"I will, mother," Ellen answered. The last months together had intensified the close bond between her and Harriet. "But I would hesitate to take up too much of Millicent's time. Time is pressing for Doctor Donovan."

Indeed, with the completion of the negotiations in Calcutta, the commission would travel on to Bombay, all around the subcontinent, to study the situation on the East Coast. The suit of Doctor Donovan would have to gather speed to be completed before Millicent would have to leave. The good Doctor had a harder than anticipated time to overcome the ingrained distrust Millicent had for men in general. Her experience with men had been less than encouraging, and although she felt drawn to the young physician, she feared to be hurt once he realised her lowly background.

Harriet smiled. "Playing the matchmaker again, Ellen? How can you top the Marquis?"

Ellen blushed. "There was nothing I did. They just met. And I'm not trying to get them to do anything they do not want if they are honest with themselves. Really, they are a perfect match if only Millicent could get over her suspicions."

Harriet patted Ellen's hand. "Perhaps I should try my hand in this. Give me a day."

Sir Anthony groaned. "Richard, why is it that women are unhappy until everybody around them is married?"

"Happily married," Harriet corrected her husband.

"I have formed no opinion on this question, father," Richard answered carefully, not ready to enter into a philosophical discourse. He had just remembered something, and he needed to get away from the breakfast table without calling too much attention to himself. He waited for a few more minutes, but when Ellen entered into a discussion with Harriet about the best way to encourage Doctor Donovan to speak his heart, he quietly slipped out of the breakfast room.

A half hour later saw him at the GG's residence, and soon after, the GG's aide de camp accompanied him into the city. Richard decided that he would have never found the dingy shop by himself, even if he had been able to find the narrow street it was located in. For the next two hours, Richard and the aide de camp spent browsing and haggling, and when they finally left, Richard felt a smug satisfaction and anticipation.

-------

In the meantime, Harriet Carter was standing on the steps to Doctor Donovan's practice. Upon her knocking, a young woman in the typical garb of Bengali women opened, and her eyes widened at seeing this English lady. Usually, people like Lady Carter had the doctor come to their house, and the young housekeeper was only used to the less important patients of her master.

"I should be happy to see Doctor Donovan if it will not trouble him too much," Harriet stated determined but not haughty.

"I shall announce you, Memsahib," the young woman answered, bowing deeply.

The constant bowing of the servants here in Calcutta still made Harriet uneasy. It did not seem right to her. One bowed to royalty, but not to ordinary people. She had tried to persuade the servants at their residence to just curtsey, but that had somehow offended them. Neeta had been outspoken.

"This is way we show respect, Memsahib. We not know better way. Is our custom," she had explained, and for once, Harriet had been thwarted.

"Lady Carter! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Doctor Donovan hastily entered the room.

"I came to give you fair warning, Doctor," Harriet answered. "The business of my husband and my son in Calcutta is concluded, and it is a matter of a few weeks before we shall travel on to Bombay."

James Donovan had a sinking feeling. He had not made much headway with Millicent in recent weeks. The more he tried to be kind to her, the more she seemed to draw back.

"I am most sorry, milady. I shall truly miss the friendship you and your family showed to me," he answered, fencing for time.

Harriet tilted her head.

"Men," she sighed. "I take it that your suit has not progressed in the way you hoped it would?"

Doctor Donovan blushed furiously and shook his head.

"Miss Wade has not been receptive to my advances," he almost whispered.

"Oh, you made advances, Doctor?" Harriet asked, raising her eyebrow. "Funny, the way it looked to me, you were sitting around her, waiting for her to make a move. Have you ever told her about your feelings for her?"

"N ... n ... no," Donovan stuttered.

"How do you suppose the poor girl can know your intentions then? Millicent's experiences with men have not been too nice. You have to assure her that your intentions are honourable. But you should also make sure she knows that you have intentions in the first place."

"But..." Donovan protested pitifully.

"Doctor, in less than a month, she will be gone. She will be unhappy and you will be unhappy. What do you stand to lose by letting your heart speak? And what do you stand to lose by saying nothing?" She let that sink in. "Tomorrow evening, we shall attend a garden party at the Governor General's. I shall need willow bark tea against the head ache my husband is sure to develop from imbibing. I would appreciate it if you were to drop by our residence tomorrow evening to deliver the tea. Millicent will know what to do with it."

"But, Lady Carter..."

"I suggest you bring my tea over at around 8 o'clock. That should give you ample time to pursue your other interests. Don't disappoint me, Doctor!"

Harriet left the stunned young man and returned to their house. The next day, after lunch, she pulled Millicent aside.

"Millicent, my dear, I have asked Doctor Donovan," here Millicent's eyes widened, "to give me some more willow bark tea. Alas, he had none in his office yesterday. But he promised to bring some this evening. I want to be sure it is there should Sir Anthony feel obliged to imbibe again. Be a darling and receive the good doctor when he comes. Make sure the tea is ready by midnight."

Millicent blushed. "Shouldn't Sadie..."

"Millicent," Lady Carter said sternly, "you will receive Doctor Donovan, and you will listen to him. Do not shy away from happiness, girl! He is not at all like the men you had to deal with in your youth. He is a gentleman, and his intentions are honourable, I'm sure. Tell me, do you not like him?"

Millicent nodded, her eyes brimming.

"But I'm not fit for him. Not me. I'm worthless."

"Sssh! Who made you think that? I know Lady Lambert thinks the world of you and so do I. Who told you you were worthless?"

"Farmer Mills," she spat, as if the hateful name soiled her mouth. "He always said I was worthless. Too thin, too ugly, too stupid, and not able to cook."

"That was the farmer who forced you to ... do inappropriate things?"

Millicent nodded, her head low in shame. But not for long. Harriet gripped her chin and forced her to look up.

"You believe that swine?" she asked. "A scoundrel who took advantage of an orphan girl? A man like that is not even worth stepping on. Millicent, my dear girl, if you were worthless, had Lady Lambert taken you along for this journey? If you were worthless, would poor Doctor Donovan be reduced to a mute idiot in your presence? Do you know why he does not propose to you? Because he is mortally afraid of your rejection. You can give as much to him as he can give to you. You can both give each other peace of soul. You can be loving husband and wife for each other. Now tell me, Millicent, is there any gift more precious?"

Millicent looked at the older woman with open mouth. She had always found Lady Carter intimidating. Not because she was severe, let alone unkind to the servants. There was something about her, however, that told Millicent not to mess with her. Those green eyes that looked at her with sympathy now, she had seen those eyes burning with fury, back then when she had caught one of the stable hands who had tried to force his attention onto Millicent. The young man, as tall and strong as he was, had shrunk away under the furious stare, in fact, he left the Carters' possessions that very day. No, she would rather not experience the wrath of her mistress' mother in law. And now, this woman had arranged for Doctor Donovan to come over so that he could declare for her.

"It is true that I care for him, milady," Millicent said in a low voice. "But what shall I tell Lady Lambert?"

"Nothing, my dear. She knows. And she is happy for you. Now, remember, don't scare the good Doctor away tonight. He is shy, and you may have to take the initiative if you want this affair to bear fruit before we have to leave Calcutta."

Patting Millicent's shoulder, Harriet returned to the salon. Nothing more was said about Doctor Donovan, and Millicent was busy enough assisting the ladies of the house with their evening dresses.

It was after seven o'clock when the Carters left for the Governor General's mansion. The infants were safely in the care of Neeta and Noga, and Sadie claimed to be tired and went to bed early. Millicent suspected Lady Carter's hand in this, too, but Sadie vehemently denied to be part of any conspiracy.

At eight o'clock on the spot, Doctor Donovan's one-horse dray drew up in the driveway. From her small window in her first floor room, Millicent saw easily that the good doctor had gone through a considerable effort to dress for the occasion. In spite of herself and her misgivings, her heart went out for the young man, and she began to ask herself whether he might really harbour true feelings for her. The conversation with Lady Carter had left her thinking.

As expected, one of the house servants knocked on the door to her room.

"Please, Miss Wade, Memsahib Carter said to call you when Doctor Donovan arrived," came the voice of Mr. Gafur, the major domo.

"Of course she would," Millicent sighed under her breath. Aloud, she said, "I shall be with him in a minute."

She looked into the dingy mirror and checked her hair. Heaving a big sigh, she blew out the candle and left her room to go downstairs.

-------

Ellen thought all the people stared at her even more than usual. She was used to attention, after all, she knew she stood out. But today, she was self-conscious. For around her neck hung a thin gold chain with a pendant. It was the pendant that made her self-conscious, and it made everybody stare. The pendant was a single ruby the size of a finger nail, and cut to a flat pear-shape. Just before they had left, Richard had asked her to stand still and close her eyes. She had felt him fasten a chain around her neck, and she had smiled, expecting a nice necklace. She had stared into a mirror speechlessly afterwards. This was too much. She had tried to protest but Richard had effectively shut her up with a long kiss, and then he had told her that this pendant was to show his appreciation for her efforts on the tea room front, as he had put it. When they reached the Governor General's mansion, his Excellency had smiled at her and nodded approvingly at Richard, confusing Ellen even more.

There came Lady Hastings.

"You look absolutely ravishing tonight, my dear Ellen," she beamed, and Ellen marvelled at the happiness Lady Hastings was displaying. Nine weeks ago, she had been a withdrawn woman, hardly ever showing any emotion and suspicious of every word spoken. And now she was positively radiant. And beautiful. Ellen supposed that this woman, almost twenty years back, would have been irresistible, farm girl or not, and from the looks His Excellency cast at her, he still thought so. She answered with a friendly smile.

"Thank you, Christine! You look wonderful yourself. Have you seen what this stupid husband of mine did?" She pointed at her décolletage where the large ruby rested between her breasts.

"I think Hubert put him up to it. And you earned it. A lot of your husband's success is due to your presence here."

"You make me blush," Ellen said modestly. "I only tried to be friends with people so Richard would not have such a hard time convincing them."

"Exactly, my dear. And your Richard is such a pleasant young man, too! They all say he has a great future as diplomat. Is it really true that he fought a duel once? He does not strike me as such a man at all."

Ellen made a grimace, her conscience pricking her again about James Finney's death.

"Yes," she answered in a low voice. "But that was my fault. They quarrelled over me."

"Oh my god, here I go putting my foot in my mouth. I am sorry for prying, my dear Ellen. Please forget I said anything," Lady Hastings said contritely.

Ellen willed away the bad memories and forced herself to smile.

"Never mind. It is water under the bridge. Oh, there is Rebecca! Let us greet her."

Indeed, the Yorks had arrived. Shy, dark Rebecca York had become a good friend to both women, in spite of Lady Hastings' earlier prejudice. The three women moved through the Great Hall together, greeting acquaintances and drawing hungry looks from the assembled men. For all her shyness, Rebecca was a delicate beauty in her own right, her dark, almost black eyes her most striking feature. She was younger than her husband by fifteen years as Ellen had learned. But the way Samuel York doted on his wife reminded Ellen of the consideration with which Richard treated her.

But only admiring looks were cast upon the three women. In all the past weeks, Ellen had not had to rebuke a single untoward advance. She commented on this to Christine Hastings and Rebecca York, and that had elicited a sardonic smile from the GG's wife.

"Don't you realise that everybody is afraid of your husband? He is the head of a commission that will decide the way India will be ruled in the next decades. And there is talk that he will surely join the ministry before too long. Add to that his reputation as a duellist, and you will realise that for all your beauty, nobody is stupid enough to offend you."

"That is a relief, then," Ellen smiled hesitantly.

-------

In the meantime, Millicent Wade and James Donovan sat opposite each other at the tea table in the garden parlour that had been expressly assigned for this meeting by Lady Carter. Doctor Donovan sat there with a furious blush, not knowing how to start until Millicent had pity on him.

"Were you commandeered here by Lady Carter, too?" she asked in an attempt to break the ice.

"Err... , yes, Miss Wade, but not that I am not happy to see you," he added hastily.

"I like seeing you too," Millicent said in a low voice, looking up at him.

Suddenly, from those light brown eyes that locked into his, strength and determination flooded over James Donovan. He swallowed just once, and then, with a courage he had not known he possessed, he spoke up.

"Miss Wade, it is true that Lady Carter strongly suggested that I should speak my mind, but I would have done so anyway. I heard yesterday that Lord Lambert's business in Calcutta is drawing to an end, and that will mean you will have to leave, too. I cannot bear this thought. Miss Wade, you are everything I ever dreamt of in a woman. It is not just your beauty that can even light up this dark room. It is your friendly and caring ways, your competence in everything you do, and even your modesty that have endeared you to me in more ways than I am able to convey in words. I ask you therefore whether you may harbour fond feelings for me, for if you do, I would ask you to stay in Calcutta as my wife. I know this is sudden, but time is pressing. Please, Millicent, make me the happiest man in this town!"

It was not just the words. He might have learned them by heart from some silly novel. But the way he spoke them left no doubt in Millicent that he spoke the truth. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"James, I care about you, but there is something you need to know. I was raised an orphan. At twelve years old, I was given to a farmer, Frank Mills, as maid servant. He always treated me rough, beating me whenever I made a mistake which was often. When I turned fourteen, he demanded other things of me, mean things, and if I refused he beat me harder than ever. I was to serve him with his needs as he called it, with my hands. Once he forced me to use my mouth, and I threw up on him. He beat me hard that evening and told me he would make me a woman the next Sunday. That night, I ran away. I ran and walked for two days straight until I found a disused gatekeeper's lodge where I could hide. That is where Lord and Lady Lambert found me. They were not married yet at that time. But they were kind to me and they asked Lady Carter to take me in. And when they married, I became Lady Lambert's confidential maid. Now you know about me. I am not what you think I am. I am nothing but a runaway bonded servant, and I am not pure anymore."

James Donovan had listened to her with rapt attention. So much became clear to him now, her reluctance, her distrust of men, her self-depreciation. The son of a tenant farmer himself, he could relate to her feelings. He took her hand into his.

"If anything, your tale endeared you to me even more. It was a brave thing to run away. So many girls, when faced with this situation, would have acquiesced. You did not. But you said you cared for me. How much so, my darling girl?"

Millicent blushed deeply.

"A lot," she almost whispered. "But you are too good for me."

James Donovan shook his head and took a hold of her chin. Forcing her to look at him, he spoke in a firm voice.

"Millicent Wade, I ask you to be my bride. I want you to be my wife so I may find love and peace. Please, say yes!"

Millicent looked into his eyes, and for the first time, she believed that this man accepted her with all her perceived faults and shortcomings. Could she love this man? Yes! Of that she was sure, had been sure for quite some time. But now, she believed that he loved her in kind, and that assurance washed over her, forcing a broad smile on her face.

"If you will have me, with my past and all, yes, I shall love you and be your wife," she replied.

"May I kiss you, Millicent?" he asked.

Millicent laughed outright.

"I don't see why not. We're engaged, after all."

Then she felt his lips on hers, hungry but full of love and respect. Not the demanding, demeaning kisses of the foul farmer. She relished the sensation with open-mouthed wonder, only to feel James' tongue sneak into her mouth to explore her. She briefly thought that she could now understand the passionate kisses between her Master and her Mistress, and she knew that she would offer no resistance if James were to touch her in intimate ways. And his hands which had only caressed her cheeks and her hair so far, began to wander lower, to her shoulders and her back, and then, one hand touched her bosom. Millicent whimpered and pressed his hand against her, surprised at the passion she felt.

It was James Donovan who recovered his composure. No, he would not give in to temptation. He would marry Millicent a virgin, and he would make that precious first time a memorable event for her.

"We must not get carried away, my love," he whispered. "I am already more happy than ever before in my life, and I would not betray the trust of Lady Carter and Lady Lambert. Millicent, there is so much we need to talk about, now that we have declared ourselves. For instance, would you stay in Calcutta with me, or should I try and find employment back home?"

Millicent, awaking from the delirious feelings of lust, had a hard time contemplating his question, and she needed to clear her head before she could discuss such a serious issue.

"Let me get something to drink first, darling," she smiled at him, and she rushed to her room where she fetched a bottle of Madeira wine, a Christmas gift from Lady Carter. When she had poured two glasses, and they had both sipped of the wine, she felt her presence of mind returning.

"James, I shall stay wherever you are. But if you ask my preference, I would rather live in England or Scotland. This country, fascinating as it is, scares me. What happened to poor Mabel makes me uneasy."

He nodded.

"I can understand that, darling. My contract here expires in three months. Do you think Lady Lambert would be willing to recommend me to her father? If I could study under Sir Jonathan Wilkes for a year or two, I could open a small country practice, and you and I would lead a pleasant life."

To his surprise, Millicent hugged him violently.

"That is a wonderful idea, James. I shall ask Lady Lambert. I am sure she will help us. And her mother, Lady Wilkes, is such a kind woman. She will help us, too."

"Do you really think so? This would be a dream come true for me. I shall speak to Lord Lambert tomorrow, and ask for your hand."

"The way his mother planned all this, he will not be surprised," Millicent giggled.

James Donovan stared at her. This was the first time he had ever heard her giggle. She had always been shy and withdrawn. Now, with a happy smile on her face, he thought that he had never seen a more desirable woman. Was it he who had brought about that change? If yes, he would chalk it up right with his greatest achievements, he thought mischievously.

From this point, they began to plan their next moves. Of course, Millicent wanted to marry as soon as possible. She wanted Lady Lambert, her admired guardian angel, to be present, and Lady Lambert would leave soon. They also talked about their future household. James Donovan asked if she had problems with his Indian maidservant who had been with him for three years. Millicent held her breath for a second. She would be the mistress of a household. Hastily she assured her fiancé that she would not disrupt his arrangements if he was happy with the young woman. One thing after the other was discussed and solved, and neither of them noticed that it had become quite late. When voices could be heard from the entrance, the two lovers jumped up, however.

A few moments later, Lady Carter and Lady Lambert entered the parlour. Seeing the blush on the faces of James Donovan and Millicent Wade, they smiled broadly.

"I take it that you have made good use of your time, Doctor?" Lady Carter asked with a friendly mock.

James Donovan cleared his throat.

"Indeed, milady, we have. I shall have to ask your son for the privilege of an interview to make my intentions known."

"Oh my, what a curious way of saying that you two want to marry," Ellen laughed, unable to restrain herself. She stepped forward and hugged the surprised Millicent. "I am so happy for you, Millicent!"

Millicent was at a loss for words. Never had she imagined being hugged by Lady Lambert.

"Th ... thank you, milady," she stammered, flustered out of her wits. But then her eyes caught something red and she gaped at her employer.

"It's beautiful, isn't it," Ellen smiled. "Everybody has been staring at me all evening."

"Is this a ruby, milady?" Millicent asked reverently.

"I surely hope it is," came Richard's voice from the door. "Else, I have been cheated on a grand scale."

James Donovan stood erect.

"If it pleases your lordship, I would ask you for an interview at your convenience."

"Why not right now, my dear Doctor, while I am in excellent mood and while you can count on my mother's moral support?"

"Your lordship, Miss Wade and I have declared for each other, and we want to enter into a formal engagement. I would ask you to release her from her position in your household if it pleases you."

"My dear Doctor, this is excellent news. However, I must maintain that Miss Wade is in our employ out of her free will, and much as we shall regret seeing her leave my household, she has every right to pursue her personal happiness. I suppose this calls for a toast. Where is Sadie? Oh, there you are, my good girl. Be a kind girl, and fetch a half dozen bottles of that Madeira from the cellars. And glasses for everyone."

The toasts that were drunk led to an impromptu party that lasted into the wee hours of the morning. For the first time in her life, Ellen was really drunk. She had toasted Millicent's health so often that she was hoarse, and she had enjoyed herself immensely. Sir Anthony and Harriet retired at three in the morning, and a suppressed yelp from the stairs told Ellen that her mother in law had to deal with an amorous husband. Her eyes met Richard's, and they both started to laugh. Richard's eyes conveyed more, though, and Ellen in her drunken state, almost missed the message. Then she laughed happily and nodded.

Richard, supported by Sadie, took charge. Doctor Donovan was expedited into a guest room, Sadie was charged with bringing a dazed Millicent to bed (that Ellen had kissed her twice had rattled poor Millicent more than her own engagement), and Richard took it upon himself to carry his drunk and merry wife to the third floor bedroom.

He was fairly out of breath after the exertion, but he carefully placed Ellen on the bed. With patience, he started to unbutton the top of her dress when Sadie knocked and entered.

"Please, milord, shall I help her ladyship?"

"Yes, that is nice of you, Sadie. Help her please. I shall be in the dressing room."

Carefully, Sadie stripped Ellen who helped, giggling at times when Sadie inadvertently touched her private parts. When Ellen was completely undressed, Sadie started to unfasten the gold chain around her neck, but Ellen stayed her hand.

"Leave it, Sadie. You may go to bed now, thank you."

"B-but your ladyship isn't yet dressed," Sadie blurted.

"That is the idea, my dear girl," Ellen giggled, causing a furious blush on Sadie's part who retreated hastily.

When Richard returned to the bedroom, the lights were out. Cautiously, he tried to navigate his way to the bed when suddenly, soft arms wrapped around him from behind. He held his breath when he felt Ellen's full breasts against his back while her hands snaked into his pants, the only piece of clothing he still wore. In spite of her intoxicated state, Ellen made short work of the buttons. Then her hands took a firm grasp of his member which by now was fully engorged.

"I have been neglecting you," Ellen whispered.

She began to stroke his penis with both hands, all the while rubbing her breasts against his back. Richard held his breath for a moment, overwhelmed with the eroticism of the moment. His hips began to thrust against Ellen's stroking hands almost on their own accord. He noticed that while Ellen's right hand was still firmly stroking his penis, her left hand gently massaged his ballocks. Her hands were slippery, oily, and the feeling they created in his loins was without precedent. Never before had Ellen taken the initiative so brazenly, always, Richard had been the one to guide their love making. But now, he felt mesmerised, unable to move on his own volition. He was completely under the spell of the moment.

And more was to come. With a throaty purr, Ellen glided down along his side, moved to his front, and then slid up his leg until she was facing his penis. In the faint light, he saw her open eyes as she opened her mouth wide to engulf the head of his member. Her tongue swirled around the head while her left hand continued the kneading of his balls. Her right hand slowly stroked the shaft of his rod, while the head was bathed in her mouth. This was nothing like the tentative ministrations she had given him in the past. Ellen was making love to his penis with abandon, and she enjoyed it. The humming sounds she made while she lavished the knob of his dick added an extra thrill, and Richard found it increasingly difficult to stand upright.

Suddenly, where there had been a soft mouth engulfing his penis, there was cool air as Ellen softly blew on the tip. The she slid upwards, wrapping the turgid shaft with her full breasts. They felt oily, too, Richard noticed, and he also began to smell some heady, strange scent. Perfumed oil, his brain told him. Not that he heard. For his penis, sliding up and down between Ellen's soft orbs, was sending far more urgent signals, signals of impending and violent released.

"Ellen, I'm about to spend," he managed to press out between clenched teeth.

He felt his penis once again engulfed in her hot mouth, and then he came with blinding intensity. His cries were more like sobs while he tried to push his member as deep as possible into Ellen's mouth. For once, he was unable to care for her comfort. The raw passion of the moment transformed him into a beast, pumping into Ellen's mouth without regard.

When the furious passion subsided, he let go of her head, and she stood up, pressing her naked form against his body, supporting his shaking limbs. Softly, she guided him to the bed and made him lie down. She took care to close the bed curtains before she spread out beside her still panting husband.

"I take it you enjoyed my efforts, darling," she could not help but taunt him.

"Ellen, I will remember this for the rest of my life," he panted. "Whatever made you think of doing this?"

"Well, as I said, I have been neglecting you, and I sought advice from some friends as how to compensate for this. Rebecca gave me this oil."

"Rebecca York?" Richard was flabbergasted.

"Oh yes, once you look past her shy demeanour, she is a quite passionate woman, and Mr. York is very appreciative of her."

"Ellen," suddenly Richard was apprehensive, "you did not feel you had to do this because of the necklace, did you? This necklace, it was to show my appreciation for your support, in spite of what you had to live through."

"No, darling. But that necklace showed me your appreciation, and that made me love you even more, and I wanted to express that love."

"I am a blessed man, Ellen."

He thought briefly of trying to rally his strength to return her favours, but the way she held him told him that she would not want that. This night had been hers to show her love, and Richard, in spite of his exhaustion, was smart enough to realise her sentiments. Holding her close, he soon fell asleep.



-------

Chapter 30: The Overland Route

The following days brought a whirlwind of activities for the Carters and their friends. The wedding of Millicent to Doctor Donovan had to be organised while, at the same time, they had to prepare for the next leg of their journey, to Bombay. Colonel Weatherby would accompany them, but the Yorks and Mr. Cummings would return with the first ship bound for England.

Millicent's wedding was the last social event in Calcutta for the Carters. Millicent looked radiant in her bridal dress, and James Donovan could not help but stare at his bride all during the ceremony. Ellen and Richard had decided to assume to role of parents to the bride, and they organised the wedding party. The wedding dress was Ellen's present, as was a chest with the finest bed linen money could buy in Calcutta.

From the elder Carters the young couple received a beautiful set of China ware. Harriet had discovered a merchant with ties into China, and she had also obtained a more magnificent set for herself which, safely packed in saw dust, was awaiting transport to England.

Then their travel plans were nullified when the Company ship destined for Bombay ran aground in the river shallows and was damaged. Fortunately, HM sloop Seahorse, a Navy sloop of war, was ready to sail on a patrol run along the coast, and her captain, Cmdr. Burlington, was delighted to be of service to a vice admiral and a senior government official. Of course, conditions on board the Seahorse were ridiculously crowded. With Harriet, Ellen, the children, and two servants sharing the main cabin, Richard and his father shared the quarters of the First Lieutenant. Sir Anthony had not slept in a hammock in decades, and to Richard it was a new experience altogether. Where Cmdr. Burlington and his First slung their hammocks, they did not know.

The Carters had, however, provided a generous amount of cabin stores, and Sadie saw to it that the family and the officers were compensated for the lack of room with good cooking. Sadie found an admirer in the steward of Cmdr. Burlington, a young fellow from York by the name of Tom Edwards, who helped Sadie and accompanied her to the pantry to prevent sailors from paying her "unsolicited compliments". In this task, however, he was supported by John Little whose mere presence sufficed to cow even the most raucous members of the crew.

Neeta was terrified of the ship and the dark sea around it, and she spent her time in the cabin, looking after the children. Much as Ellen tried, the young Bengali could not be persuaded to walk the deck. She began to doubt whether it had been wise to take the young woman away from her home town. The decision had not been made lightly in the first place. Neeta had begged to stay in the service of Ellen. With her milk slowly drying up, she would not be able to work as nurse, and she would likely be rented into a brothel until she became pregnant again. The man who had bought her from her parents had done this before. Her baby had been sold to a childless couple, and Neeta had been rented to the Carters as wet-nurse. Under Ellen's protection, Neeta had escaped this vicious cycle, and nothing would ever compel her to return to Calcutta.

The Seahorse turned out to be an excellent craft, and Sir Anthony was found to spend most of the journey on the quarterdeck, once again enjoying the feel of a seaworthy ship under his feet. Once during their trip, they even had the excitement of chasing a Dutch merchant who had strayed into Indian waters. Inspection of the ship showed, however, that the Dutch captain had not traded with India but merely taken fresh water on the coast. On Richard's advice, Cmdr. Burlington released the Dutchman with a simple admonishment.

The northward run to Bombay was absolutely event free, except for the fact that The Honourable Anthony Carter, now aged a little over a year, made his first independent steps over the swaying deck of HMS Seahorse. The elder Anthony Carter watched with misty eyes as his grandson held on to the steering wheel, trying to steady himself, while the quartermasters looked on magnanimously.

It was early October when HM sloop Seahorse sailed into Bombay Harbour. There were a couple of smaller men o' war in the harbour, the famed Bombay Marine, which protected the shipping in the Indian Ocean. Sir Anthony had heard of them and was curious enough to watch them as the Seahorse glided towards her anchorage.

They were greeted by the Governor, Sir John Malcolm, himself who was overjoyed, seemingly, to meet with Richard, enchanted with Harriet and Ellen, and delighted to meet Sir Anthony. His wife's enthusiasm was even stronger but also more credible. She was simply dying for news from London, while her husband tried to make a good impression with the two emissaries from HM Government. Bombay, at that time, was even harder to reach than Calcutta, due to the prevailing winds in the Arabic Sea. The Governor tried to convince the Board of Directors of the East India Company to open up an "Overland Route" from Bombay to Suez, and then to Alexandria, and from there to England, and he planned to bring his high ranking visitors on his side.

For five days, the Carters were wined and dined until even a hardened campaigner like Ellen showed fatigue. The governor had success though in interesting Sir Anthony for the navigational and technical aspects of the Overland Route. A steam ship built in Bombay, the Hugh Lindsay, had already made two runs up the Red Sea and to Suez, and she was to make another trip the next month. Would Sir Anthony be interested to be a passenger? The Red Sea was a mysterious water, and preciously few British sailors knew it. Besides, after the short journey from Suez to Cairo, they would sail down-river on the biblical waterway of the River Nile, and they could even visit the ancient sites of Thebes and the Great Pyramids of Giza. It seemed almost impossible for Sir Anthony to let this opportunity pass.

Richard was more interested in the geopolitical aspects of the Overland Route. It would mean that the European powers, and foremost the British, were to get involved in Arabia. The French had this outrageous plan to built a canal from the Mediterranean Sea to Suez. This had all the potential of opening up Asia to international trade. Richard, therefore, saw it as his duty to inspect the Overland Route in person.

The drawback was, of course, that he was travelling with his precious wife and his only son, not to mention his adopted daughter. Could he expose them to the unknown dangers on this little explored route? When he talked about this to Ellen, her eyes began to shine with excitement.

"Do you think we could see one of the Seven Wonders of the World?" she asked. "Never did I dream of seeing the Great Pyramids with my own eyes. Oh, Richard, let us do this!"

"Are you sure? What about Anthony? Do you think it is possible?"

"Why don't you inquire about the specifics, darling, and we can decide? Wouldn't we also save the long trip around Africa? The Cape of Good Hope also holds dangers."

"Yes, dear, actually, that's the idea behind this Overland Route. It may be more dangerous, though. You see, we have to travel from a port called Suez across the desert to Cairo and then ride a barge down the River Nile. The territory belongs to the Pasha, Muhammad Ali. He's eager to improve relations with us after the fiasco in the Bay of Navarino, and he has what seems to be a disciplined army. Yet, we'll be travelling at the mercy of an Oriental potentate."

"But it's been done before?"

"Yes, twice, and the overland part was no problem."

"And how far do we have to travel through the desert?"

"Close to a hundred miles. They have animals, camels in fact, to transport us. They also have horses."

"It's going to be a regular adventure then?" Ellen asked with a dreamy voice.

"I guess you could call it that."

"I want to. Let me talk to your mother."

She found Harriet Carter in an excited mood. She, too, was strongly in favour of trying this Overland Route. For a day or two, Richard and his father put up a show to dissuade them, but they were too eager themselves to maintain this posture. Once they had decided, they began with the preparations. They would need weapons, they would need riding garb, and they would need gold coins. The Austrian dollar, minted by the Empress Maria Theresia, was trusted currency in and around the Red Sea, and Richard was able to secure an appropriate sum for their travel.

The Admiral, meanwhile, purchased double-barrelled percussion cap pistols, with rifled bores, and at an outrageous price. For himself and for Richard, he also acquired two rifled muskets, also with percussion cap locks.

Ellen undertook to broach the subject of their travel route with Neeta. The poor girl had no idea of Arabia, but she was terrified of being left behind in Bombay where she could only revert to her old life style. She begged to be taken on the journey, and Ellen, who had come to depend on the young woman, gladly agreed. Sadie, of course, had no other option but neither did she want one. She joined into the efforts to prepare for the adventure.

The departure of the Hugh Lindsay was still four weeks away, enough time for Richard and his father to interview the Governor and his staff. The most important problem as perceived by the local merchants and Company officials was the travel time. Due to the monsoon winds, Bombay was more difficult to reach than Calcutta, and it was for this reason that the Governor pressed ahead with the Overland Route. His predecessor had had the Hugh Lindsay built against the express will of the Board of Directors, and so far, the two successful runs to Suez had not sufficed to convince the directors of the advantages. His Excellency was free to admit that the Bombay-built Hugh Lindsay was far from being an ideal ship. Her hunger for coal was so great that her storage capacity scarcely sufficed for the individual stages. Collier brigs had to be dispatched to friendly harbours for the refuelling, and the passengers, brave souls that they were, had to suffer from the all-present soot and smoke. It was of greatest importance to have more effective steam engines, but for that, the Governor needed backing from high up. Sir Anthony promised to give the authorities an unbiased account of the journey once they were back to London.

Bombay's society was a mirror image of its Calcutta counterpart, only smaller, with less important officials and less wealthy merchants. Lady Lambert ruled supreme in these settings, and her presence was craved by everybody who held a tea or a soiree. Accompanied by an increasingly tired Harriet Carter, Ellen put up a brave facade and toured the salons and dinner rooms of Bombay. In the evenings, the women were accompanied by their men, of course, but after two weeks of this, the faces and locations began to blur even for Ellen's excellent memory.

It was with relief that the Carters finally prepared for leaving. Their cabins on board the Hugh Lindsay were tiny, but accommodations were better than in the Seahorse. The smell of burning coal permeated everything, especially when the boilers were heated while the ship still lay at anchor. The Hugh Lindsay, of 410 tons, carried her two 80 HP engines amidships, between the twin paddle wheels she shipped. Forward of the engine and the chimney there was a foremast, and a mainmast was located aft. She was schooner rigged, to minimise the necessary crew, and the men were mostly busy shovelling coal, shovelling ashes, pumping water, and washing off the soot that settled everywhere.

A total of thirty-six passengers boarded the ship, including the Carters' party of seven plus two children. After the successful maiden voyage, the interest was high, and there were four Army officers with their wives, and two merchants, with whom the Carters shared the better cabins. Some of the passenger cabins had to be converted into coal storage, reducing the number of passengers to pay for the costs. Each journey had to be subsidised with over £20,000, but the governor wanted to make the point that a steam connection was feasible.

Ellen jumped when she heard the steam whistle for the first time, calling the last stragglers on board, and the Hugh Lindsay left Bombay Harbour on January 5th, 1831, on her third voyage. The first leg of the journey led them over the open waters of the Indian Ocean. The ship left much to be desired in Sir Anthony's opinion. She was top heavy, with the heavy engines on her deck, and she rolled in heavy sea until most of the passengers felt the seasickness encroach on them. Sir Anthony grudgingly conceded, however, that it was a miraculous feat to steer the ship right into the wind and to make headway at that. They logged a steady 6 to 7 knots and headed straight for Aden where a sailing ship would have been forced to claw its way to windward tack after tack.

Amazingly, it took them just eleven days to reach Aden, 1640 miles to the West. In Aden, the crew worked two days to fill the coal bunkers, to clean the boiler, to empty the ashes. The passengers were not advised to visit the city, as the Yemen was supposed to be inhabited by fearless warrior tribes. They watched the stone walls of the city, perched on top of an ancient volcano, and they were favoured by the land breeze that blew away the smoke from the chimney to seaward.

After two days, the big paddle wheels began to churn the water again, and the steam ship started on the second leg of their journey. The first one-hundred sea miles brought them westward, past Djibouti, and then they entered the Red Sea. The Captain, Mr. Billingsworth, told them to expect a faster pace now, since the waves were not high in this narrow water, and the ship did not roll as much.

Once inside the Red Sea, the captain pointed out that beyond the eastern shores lay the holiest sites of the Mohammedans, Makkah and Al Madinah, known as Mecca and Medina to Westerners. He also told them about the annual pilgrimage to Mecca, attracting thousands of believers of the Prophet.

After six days they passed the tip of the Sinai peninsula. This was biblical territory they watched when they gazed over to the starboard side, as the Hugh Lindsay made her way north in the narrow waterway. The water was just twelve sea miles across now, and they could easily see both shores as they glided past the dry rocks. Thirty-two hours after entering the narrow waterway, they finally reached the port of Suez.

A clearly excited representative of the East India Company came aboard and introduced himself as Mr. Clive, not related to the famous Colonel Clive as he hastened to explain. He assured them of his services to convey them all safely to Cairo, El Kahira, capital of Egypt and residence of the Pasha, Muhammad Ali. The distance was close to ninety miles, but he had secured enough horses and camels for the passengers and their luggage.

On this last night on board the Hugh Lindsay, Sir Anthony finished his report of the journey, citing the difficulties for paddle wheel steam ships in open waters, but also acknowledging the astounding speed and independence on the prevailing wind that made travel more reliable. A copy of the report went back to Bombay in the Hugh Lindsay, to be conveyed to England from there.

Early in the morning, the workers began to unload the luggage from the Hugh Lindsay's hold, and the travellers prepared themselves for their great adventure. Mr. Clive had organised djellabas, wide coats with hoods, for the women, and he advised them to keep their faces and hair covered at all times, lest they offend and incur the wrath of the local people. Under the djellabas, the women actually wore trousers, allowing them a comfortable seat on the horses. Advised by Mr. Clive, Neeta and Sadie opted for camels. They would sit in huge baskets carried on either side of those sturdy animals, and each of the two servants would be entrusted with one of the children. Little Anthony and Sally were fully weaned now, but they still wet themselves, and they were quite difficult to control now that they knew how to run around. Sadie and Neeta were in for three quite demanding days, trying to entertain the children in the narrow baskets.

The other adults sat on horseback, looking forward to the chance to ride their horses through the desert. Ellen and Harriet had practised shooting their pistols during the ship voyage, and they carried them in holsters at their side. The men carried rifled muskets on their saddles in addition to the pistols. The three men, all proficient in the use of firearms, were a force by themselves, in addition to the other passengers and the Pasha's soldiers who would protect them all. The people who lived in this desert were warlike, and it was not unknown for them to attack a caravan.

On the first day, they made almost twenty miles from sunup to noon until the caravan leader ordered them to stop. They rested during the hottest hours and resumed their journey in the afternoon. It was already dark when they made camp. Ellen was thoroughly exhausted after spending almost a full day in the saddle, and after a frugal supper she just rolled into her blanket in the big tent that had been erected and held her son to her chest while she drifted into sleep. She did not even notice Richard as he came in and put Anthony in a low slung hammock.

The night was over much too fast. An hour before sunrise, they were awoken by the noise of the servants preparing breakfast. After eating hastily, they mounted their animals, and with the first dawn, the caravan was on its way. Again, they rode until noon when it became too hot, making almost twenty miles, and in the late afternoon, another fifteen. The last hours had been taxing on the travellers, and Ellen could only marvel at how Harriet had kept up with the rest of them. She was almost fifty years old, and yet, sitting in the saddle of her horse, she could be mistaken for a young person. It had to be the fact that Harriet, with all her lust for life, had never overindulged in anything, or perhaps, she was simply from good stock.

Even the men complained of saddle soreness, and Ellen passed out soft tallow. After a brief rest in the quickly built tent, they gathered for supper. She sat at the fire, her son on her lap, drinking the mint tea that was passed out by the stewards. She liked the taste, and importantly, the children liked it, too, sweetened with sugar as it was. Mr. Clive stressed the need for drinking plenty of tea, but he also encouraged them, promising them regular accommodations in Cairo the next evening.

As they lay in their blankets in the coolness of the desert night, Richard turned to her in the dark.

"How are you holding up, darling? Do you need a day of rest?"

Ellen thought briefly, but she would never ask for rest when a woman twice her age showed no exhaustion.

"I much rather we travelled on, Richard. We can be in Cairo tomorrow. Think of it! The pyramids and the Sphinx! How many people do you know who have seen them? This will be days we can tell our grandchildren about. I wouldn't miss this for anything."

"I honestly never knew that you are so interested in antique history."

"Well, I am, nevertheless. I met learned people at salons, and I always found history an interesting subject. I once spent an evening with Thomas Young as my table partner. It was fascinating."

Of course, Ellen was referring to the genius Thomas Young, scientist and linguist, whom she had met during the time when she and Richard had been estranged.

"You will probably be the first Englishwoman to ever see the pyramids," Richard remarked.

"Only if I can beat your mother to it," Harriet answered, her smile evident from her intonation.

"What I mean is, why don't you write down your impressions and thoughts, what you see and all that. I suppose Colleen would be thankful for such notes."

"I'm no writer."

"Neither am I, but I still have to write those reports."

"Maybe, I can do that. I have my diary already."

That was true. Ellen had kept a diary on their journeys, on Colleen's insistence. The thought of sharing her impressions with the people back home had a certain appeal. Ellen fell asleep that evening, determined to bring her impressions to paper with more regularity.

The next day began before sunrise again, and they were in the saddle with dawn's early light. By midday, they could see the minarets and domes of Cairo's mosques. They would not be allowed to visit one, they had been told, but the sight was impressive all the same. There was no rest at noon. Instead, they rode on, and before mid-afternoon, they reached a caravanserai in the outskirts of the big city. They entered through an arched doorway and into a large courtyard. Immediately, servants rushed to help them dismount, and they were led to upstairs rooms. Here, Ellen saw the most welcome sight for days, a basin with fresh water. The grime from the journey had permeated everything they wore, and their skin looked pasty with the fine dust covering it.

However, the care for the children came first. With Sadie's and Neeta's help, Ellen washed the struggling toddlers, and once their chests had been hauled into the room, Anthony and Sally were dressed in clean clothes. Then, finally, Ellen had a chance to use washcloth and soap to rid herself of the caked-in dust. They negotiated for another basin of water, and she was able to wash her hair with fresh water, a luxury she had foregone for almost a month.

Meanwhile, the men had been shown to a bathhouse, and they were able to cleanse themselves thoroughly. One of the attendants, spotting the old scars on Sir Anthony's leg, gave him an acknowledging grin and showed him a huge sabre scar that cut across his chest diagonally. Old warriors among themselves. Richard's scars did not go unnoticed either.

After the bath, a barber trimmed their beards which they had grown since Calcutta, and they returned to their rooms looking clean and dignified.

Food for the women was served in their rooms, while the men would take their evening meal in the common room. Mr. Clive told them explicitly to go armed, not because he expected trouble, but apparently, a man was perceived as less than a man if he did not carry weapons. With mixed feelings, Richard and his father buckled their swords and wore their pistols. The food, various baked fish and rice, was delicious, and they both ate their fill. Of course, they strictly observed etiquette, eating only with their right hands, and following the example of Mr. Clive, they belched politely to show their appreciation. Understandably, the Englishmen were met with curiosity by the other guests, mostly merchants. Their straight, narrow swords caused grins by the men who wore heavy, curved scimitars. They were asked questions, but lacking the language, they were limited to hand signs and the little knowledge Mr. Clive possessed. One persistent fellow seemingly tried to barter with Sir Anthony for his pistols, but the Admiral declined, smiling apologetically.

When they returned to their rooms, the women had already gone to bed, grateful for the soft cushions. Little Anthony and Sally slept in the foldable cribs, and Richard snuggled up against his sleeping wife. Ellen, already fast asleep, only took one deep breath and settled against him.

They had the use of the horses and camels for another two days, Mr. Clive told them the next morning, and he suggested they crossed the River Nile to visit the Great Pyramids. Of course, they were all for it. Ellen had already written a summary of their journey into her diary, and now she was eager to see more and write down her thoughts and impressions. They dressed in travel clothes again, but they left behind most of their luggage. They had camels for Sadie and Neeta, and their charges, Sally and Little Anthony, and for two other women, wives of the officers, while the rest of the group mounted their horses. The rode down to the river and were ferried over in a medium sized barge. After the crossing, Mr. Clive led the group through a maze of dusty streets and a cloud of foul odours until they finally reached the edge of the city. From there, unimpeded by the surrounding houses and walls, they first saw what so few European contemporaries had a chance to see, the perfect shapes of the three Pyramids of Giza, looming in the dusty air.

Riding on, the pyramids grew larger and larger, and when they halted at the base of the first and largest, Admiral Sir Anthony Carter, K.B., spoke what he felt.

"Blimey!"

Richard laughed. "Boney was more articulate than you, father. You could have said something about the four millennia looking down on us."

"How did they ever build these, so long ago?" Ellen wondered aloud. "Could we climb on top?"

They looked at Mr. Clive, who nodded. "Take the north-eastern corner. I've been up the last time, so go ahead."

After a brief discussion, they decided to split up. Ellen and Richard would wait with Neeta and the children, while the Carters, Sadie, and John Little climbed with the first group. Watching them, climbing one boulder after the other, shielding their eyes against the sun, they felt awe as the climbers became smaller and smaller to their eyes.

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"The Great Pyramid is almost 450 feet in height," Mr. Clive remarked, echoing their thoughts.

After twenty minutes, they saw that the climbers had reached the top, tiny figures on the tip of a man-made mountain of granite.

"Is it possible to see the burial chambers inside?" Ellen inquired of Mr. Clive.

"It was, milady, but the Pasha ordered the pyramid sealed."

But Ellen was not interested anymore. Above the sand, to their left, she had just seen a huge stone head. Excitedly, she pulled Richard's sleeve.

"Look, Richard, over there, the Sphinx! Can we go over there, please?"

It was just a few hundred feet, and Richard nodded, secretly excited himself. He had seen Ellen sketch the silhouette of the three pyramids, and he was curious whether she would attempt a drawing of the Sphinx.

"Be watchful, milord, lest some robber hides in those ruins," Mr. Clive advised him.

Richard checked his pistol and musket before they left. It was indeed worth the walk. In a deep depression at the foot of the Khefren pyramid, the body hewn from the bedrock, was the huge Sphinx, the head of the Pharaoh on a lion's body. The nose had broken off, lying at the feet of the statue among stone cannon balls. Most of the body was covered in the deep sand, only the back was visible. They walked around it, looking for a place to climb on the back, when suddenly, Ellen noticed movement in a deep crack near the shoulder. She stayed Richard with her hand on his arm and pointed. Carefully, they moved closer, and to their surprise, they saw two youngsters, children really, trying to mould into the fissure. They were most poorly clothed, in rags of some brownish colour, and the girl, for it was a boy and a girl, wore her hair open. Black curls framed a dusty face, but Ellen was immediately captivated by the huge, almost black eyes that looked at her in fear. Then the gaze of the boy shifted to Richard, whose blond hair was blowing freely in the wind, and he nudged his sister who stared at them.

"Inglese?" she asked haltingly.

It took a moment for Ellen and Richard to comprehend.

"Italiana?" Richard asked back, remembering a few words, picked up when he negotiated with a Genoan merchant, back as apprentice under Sir Robert Norton.

The girl shook her head, and her curls danced.

"Piedmontese! Io mi chiamo Maddalena Robert di Castelvero."

The voice carried pride, in spite of the rags she wore, and Richard bowed politely.

"Richard Carter, Barone di Lambert," he said, feeling silly at saying his title in what he hoped would pass for Italian.

The girl pointed at the boy, obviously her brother.

"Ettore-Maria Robert di Castelvero," she said, and Richard bowed again, pointing at Ellen.

"Mia moglie, Lady Lambert."

The situation was so outlandish, Ellen giggled. Quickly, she took off her head cover, exposing her blonde hair, bound tightly into a long braid. The boy's eyes grew big.

"Ellen," she said, by way of introduction and pointing at herself.

Seeing that the two youngsters had no belongings with them, she offered her water bottle. The girl curtseyed before she took it, but she offered it to her brother first. But the boy would have none of it. Emphatically, he pushed it back, and the girl relented. A few escaped drops left deep crevasses in the baked dust on her face. Between the two of them, they emptied the bottle in a a few seconds.

"Fuggitivo?" Richard asked, remembering another word.

The girl's eyes lit up, and she nodded emphatically.

"Schiavo?" Richard asked next, remembering another word.

Thinking quickly, the girl nodded again, imitating hands bound behind her back.

"They must be escaped slaves, Ellen, from the Piedmont."

"Oh, dear god, what can we do?" Ellen asked. "Surely we must help them."

"We must talk with my father and with Mr. Clive. Maybe they will know what to do."

He took his bottle from his belt and handed it to the girl. With his hands, he gestured for the youngsters to hide again.

"Pellame!" he said, 'Stay!'.

The youngsters slid back into the crack in the stone.

"Ritorno!" Richard said, pointing at himself.

Hastily, Richard and Ellen made their way back to their group. The Carters had just returned from their climb, and Richard motioned for Mr. Clive to join them. In brief words, he explained what they had seen. Mr. Clive became very uneasy.

"If they are escaped slaves, we're in danger if we shield them, milord. I think I know where they come from. When the French took Algiers, the slave traders took their business eastward."

"What is the Pasha's stand on slavery?" Sir Anthony asked.

"Ambiguous at best. Of course, he has slaves himself, but he made a show of returning all European slaves last year to be on our good side."

"Will they search our belongings at any point during the trip?"

"Not to my knowledge, and they would never search the cabin of a married woman in my experience."

"So we have to get them back to the caravanserai somehow, clean them up, and let them hide with the women." Sir Anthony was thinking in practical terms.

"But this is dangerous. Those slave traders are dangerous people."

John Little perked up, and the grin that split his face was murderous.

"So are we, Mr. Clive. It's been more'n a decade since I had the last slaver in my hands, but I have not forgot how to deal with them."

"Adventurous, old friend?" Sir Anthony grinned.

"Vengeful, still vengeful, Sir Anthony," the tall African who had escaped from slavery as a youth responded.

"With the right planning, they will never know," Sir Anthony calmed him. "I trust you not to speak of this with anybody, Mr. Clive. The fewer people know of this, the lesser will be our risk."

"But the other gentlemen and their wives..."

"What they don't know, they cannot blab. Even if they talk about it afterwards, that would put you at risk when you return here."

That convinced Mr. Clive.

"How shall we proceed?" Richard asked. "With the boys who tend the camels, we cannot just ride over there to pick them up."

"We need them to dress like us. Don't you have some spare pants in the saddle bags, Richard?"

"Yes, I do, of course. I'll take off my shirt, too, under my jacket."

"I think, Sadie has a spare dress, and I have a second djellaba in the basket with Neeta," Ellen added. "We'll just ride over on the horses and have the two change. Then Mr. Clive can lead the rest of the group over, and we can put them in the baskets while we send the boys over to fetch water."

"Excellent!" Sir Anthony commented his daughter in law. "But you and Richard have to climb the pyramid first. Anything else would make the boys suspicious. Your mother and I will bring them the clothes already."

The plan was accepted, and Mr. Clive grudgingly gave in. Ellen picked up the items for the girl, and Richard quickly shed his shirt and gave his spare trousers to his mother. Then they started the climb. Much of the excitement they had felt about the Great Pyramid had been pushed into the background with the newly evolving adventure. It returned as they climbed, step after big step, on the north-eastern corner. With every step they climbed, the view grew more magnificent. Wearing trousers under her djellaba was practical for such an enterprise, Ellen found, and she did not fall behind Richard as he led the way up. They paused twice, to catch their breath, and let their view sweep over the surrounding landscape. They could see Sir Anthony and Harriet Carter, as they walked around the Sphinx, looking for the youngsters. Then they climbed the last hundred or so feet to the top. The top was flattened, 200 square feet perhaps, and they stood and gaped. They could see the tall minarets of Cairo, they saw the other pyramids close by, and in the distance, they could even see more pyramids, scattered in the desert. It was awe-inspiring. For minutes, they stood on, what they felt was, the top of the world. Richard grinned at Ellen with a twinkle in his eyes.

"At long last, alone," he said suggestively, and Ellen caught on immediately.

She looked about. Nobody else was coming up, and if someone did, it would take close to a quarter hour for them to reach the top. The thought was exciting and a little naughty.

"You are sure?" she asked, her own eyes conveying the excitement she felt.

"I need you, Ellen! You have no idea how much I need you!" Richard stated.

Ellen felt the excitement affect herself already. A tingle made itself felt between her legs. She made a decision. Taking off the djellaba, she spread it out on the stony surface. Then she paused, undecided. To take off those trousers, she would need to take off her shoes, too. Richard had other ideas.

"Just pull down your pants a little bit and kneel," he told her, already unbuttoning his own breeches.

Indeed, why not, Ellen thought. Opening the waistband, she pushed the pants down past her buttocks, her thighs and her knees. Then she knelt, her behind offered to Richard and looking over her shoulder. In a flash, Richard was behind her and she felt his hand on the cheeks of her behind, kneading the flesh and pulling her against his stiff member. His hand probed her opening and found her moist already.

"Take me, Richard, and pound me hard!" she encouraged him.

Richard fisted his member, spreading his own slick juices, and aligned the head with Ellen's opening. When he pushed forward, Ellen responded by slamming her own hips back against him. His cock was buried to half its length after the first thrust, and Ellen exhaled sharply.

"Yes, Richard, fill me!"

Not needing any more encouragement, Richard pressed on, and with two more thrusts, he was buried to the hilt in Ellen's soft flesh. He paused for a second or two, relishing the softness and the heat. Then he began a rhythmic in and out movement, starting slowly and using long strokes. For a minute or two, he moved this way, causing delighted sighs from his kneeling wife, her head now bent and her upper body resting on her elbows. But soon, he began a faster paced pounding, the strokes now shorter and fiercer, and Ellen's sighs turned into moans.

"Look around Ellen!" he panted. "I'm taking you, right here, on top of the world."

"Yes, you are, yes, you are! Pound me!"

And he did. Faster and faster his pounding got, and Ellen's moans turned into small cries every time she felt herself filled. Looking down, Richard regarded the luscious behind in his hands and he slapped the white cheeks playfully.

"Aow!" Ellen moaned. "Slap me again, slap me! I'm a very bad girl!"

The flesh of her buttocks trembled with each slap he laid on her behind, and he saw the skin turning slightly red while Ellen welcomed each of his thrusts with high pitched cries. He was sorely tempted to probe her rear opening with his thumb, but there was no way to wash up afterwards, and he contented himself by slapping those glorious cheeks once more, with force, and pushing all the way into her. That did it for Ellen. She began to tremble all over, her tight canal clenching his rod. She rose her head and pushed back against him, forcing the penetrating penis deep into her core. Now Richard approached his summit, too. He slammed deep into her, twice, and then he felt the rush of his seed from deep within. He pressed himself against Ellen, penetrating her as deeply as possible, holding onto her trembling form, while his seed blasted into her.

"Ow, my knees hurt," Ellen complained after they had caught their breath.

Richard pulled out and sat on his heels while Ellen sat sideways, massaging her kneecaps. He could indeed see the imprints of stones in the skin. He crawled up to her and kissed her gently.

"I love you!"

They realised that they had to climb down, and soon. Using a kerchief, Richard wiped the spunk from between Ellen's thighs and then wiped off the excess of his spent from his own penis. He helped Ellen to dress and pulled up his own breeches, careful not to stand up and expose himself to any onlookers from below. He helped Ellen up, and they began their descent, holding hands all the way down.

They had to be careful; the climb down was more dangerous since their legs were shaky and they were facing away from the stones. They made it in just fifteen minutes and joined the rest of the group. John Little had a bottle of water for them, and they drank gratefully.

Mr. Clive then assembled the group to lead them over to the Great Sphinx. The whole party mounted the horses while Neeta and Sadie opted for walking rather than climbing into the baskets. Little Anthony sat in front of Richard, happy with the world for once, while Sally clung to Ellen's djellaba. Setting a slow pace to allow Sadie and Neeta to follow, they let the horses trot the few hundred feet to the foot of the Sphinx.

It was easier than they had feared. They did not have to distract the boys who steered the camels, for the wind picked up and a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon. This caused alarm with everyone and the group assembled in a hurry. In the hurry, the two youngsters were simply seated behind Richard and his father, and then the group rushed back towards the city. Nobody noticed that the group had grown bigger by two when they crossed the river, and when they reached the caravanserai, the dust was so thick that they had difficulties finding their rooms.

Shaking off the sand, the entered their private rooms. Soon, the master of the caravanserai sent servants with fresh water for his guests, and for the next hour, the families tried to wash off the reddish dust that had permeated their clothing.

Maddalena and Ettore stood shyly until Ellen motioned for them to approach the wash stand. Ellen guessed the girl to be close to womanhood, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years. The boy was decidedly younger, around twelve or thirteen, his voice not yet broken. While Richard joined the other men in the guest room, Ellen, helped by Sadie and Neeta, proceeded to clean the two youngsters. The boy was shy to undress in front of the women but Ellen did not budge. They had to look like the rest of the party if they wanted to blend in. The boy's hair had been cut short, which was unusual for European boys. He would not fit in easily.

Neeta had an idea then. One of her own saris was wrapped around the skinny boy, a bustier covered his chest halfway, and a head scarf, decorated with a generous gift of Neeta's bush of black hair, served to transform him into a young Indian girl. The boy blushed terribly, but his sister talked to him for a few minutes until he relented. Neeta then practised bows and postures with him until he could pass for Indian with the Arab servants.

For reasons of simplicity, Maddalena was transformed into an Indian woman, too. Neeta took a deep breath before parting with her best sari. Maddalena looked at her gratefully, and then, out of impulse, hugged her. Neeta smiled. Her sacrifice was appreciated, and she proceeded to groom the black-haired Italian girl according to Indian ideals.

When Richard finally found his way back to their room, his mouth hung open in surprise and admiration. To his embarrassment, he felt his penis fill as he gazed at the delicate beauty in front of him. Maddalena was transformed. Her eyes were painted with dark make up and appeared huge, while her hair had been tamed and bound into a tight braid. Her girlishly small mouth was enhanced with lip paint, and a caste sign adorned her forehead. The bustier enhanced the swell of her budding breasts, and her bare tummy was nothing short of perfect.

"Do I have to be worried?" Ellen inquired, not completely amused.

Richard snapped out of his temporary lack of speech. He grinned sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, Ellen. It is just that she is so..." he searched for a word that would not bring him further into Ellen's disfavour.

"Beautiful," Ellen finished matter-of-factly. "Don't beat about the bush, dear. I have eyes, too. We have to be very careful, though. If she is to pass for a servant, we will have to have her work. No polite bows, no lewd glances."

He nodded, turning serious now.

"You are right, of course, darling. For a start, they should both learn how to wash the children."

At this, Sadie grinned. Washing the two bundles of energy was not her favourite task.

"If I may, I shall show them," she offered.

-------

The next morning, after breakfast, Mr. Clive knocked. He looked pale and worried.

"I found out about your protégés, milord," he started without preamble. "They escaped from the house of a rich merchant, and the man is raising hell to get the girl back. He paid almost two thousand pounds for her! The boy is less important, he was merely an add-on, meant to be castrated and used as eunuch for the women's house."

Richard flinched at the thought.

"How did they escape then?" he asked.

"The girl stabbed a guard with a glass shard. That was four days ago. I checked at the embarkation. They search all luggage. That merchant has power, obviously."

"Then we need to embark them secretly." That was Sir Anthony. "We are supposed to leave tomorrow. We could spend the night on board already. That is, you, Richard, and the rest. Mr. Little and I will bring the youngsters on board during the night. We'll just shanghai a jolly boat upriver from the embarkation point and approach the barge from the river side."

"They have posts to guard the ship at night," Mr. Clive warned.

"We'll need a disturbance then," the admiral smiled. "Don't you worry, Mr. Clive. John Little and I have done this a few times. Let us scout the site this morning and secure a boat for tonight."

Together with his sidekick and a dubious Mr. Clive, Sir Anthony left a little later. When he returned, after noon, he and John Little were excited like school boys. Harriet Carter had her misgivings about their attitude.

"Anthony Carter, you better be careful! You're not twenty-five anymore, and neither is Mr. Little. You're just two old men, bent on feeling young again."

At first, the admiral looked at her with surprise, then something akin to anger, but in the end, he laughed.

"You're right, as always, Harriet. But let me assure you, it will be easy. Now, all of you, listen up!"

And he proceeded to tell them his plan.

-------

In the late afternoon, they prepared for boarding. Mr. Clive had kept word and had made the arrangements. He explained to the rest of the group that Sir Anthony and his servant had been delayed outside of town and would arrive back at sunrise. The two, with their young charges, had hidden in a Company storage room close to the river, with a rowing boat nearby.

Richard led his family and dependants on board. They were watched closely, and their sea chests were inspected by soldiers before they were allowed to board. Richard felt more than a little nervous. Although they knew that nothing would happen before close to dawn, they were too apprehensive to sleep. All the Carters had to share one large cabin for this leg of the journey, but this came handy for their plans. Mr. Clive had seen to it that their cabin lay on the port side, away from the quay.

The night passed with excruciating slowness. Every so often, Richard checked his watch, despairing with the lack of progress. Finally, his watch was showing 4:30, he jumped up. A reddish light reflected from the water behind the porthole, quickly illuminating the sky to the East. He jumped up and woke Ellen and his mother. At least he wanted to, but, like him, they had lain awake. Quickly, they opened the porthole and held a candle to it. Another red light climbed into the sky to the East, and Richard could hear the excited voices of the watch on deck.

The bump against the barge's hull was barely audible, but Richard had been waiting for it. A second later, the head of the girl Maddalena showed in the porthole, and Richard and Ellen helped her through, stowing her away under their cot immediately. Listening carefully, they heard nothing but excited babble from the deck. Then, a third signal light rose in the sky, and again, the babble swelled. The head of Ettore showed, and he, too, was quickly helped in and stowed away. When Richard looked through he porthole, the boat with his father and John Little was gone already. He quickly dressed and climbed on deck, joining the excited crowd. A fourth signal rocket shot up suddenly, from a building, perhaps a thousand feet from the water front, and again, the crowd on deck strained their necks as the glowing red light rose higher and higher until it burst into stars. Everything remained dark after that, but nobody left the deck. Gradually, it became lighter, and before long, the Muezzin called the believers to prayer, and Richard left the deck while the boat crew observed their religious duties.

An hour later, Mr. Clive was showing nervous unrest already, Sir Anthony and Mr. Little arrived at the dock, their clothes covered with dust as if they had ridden through the desert all night. They dismounted and handed the reins of their horses to the Company clerk at the dock.

They were not inspected at all, as they walked over the gang plank, because the soldiers and guards were still engaging in excited discussions of the night's events. Once the two men were on board, Mr. Clive gave the skipper a signal, and the barge left the quay. A huge Latin sail was hoisted on the main mast, and a smaller one at the mast aft, and the barge began to gather speed down-river.

Once they had cleared the limits of Cairo, Sir Anthony could not help but slap the back of a grinning John Little. The latter had built the rocket flares, using black powder, paper and some other ingredients, something he had learned decades ago, from the chief gunner of HMS Medusa. The flares had been timed with slow fuse to rise into the sky one after another from a dilapidated warehouse. The two old sailors chattered like excited school boys, talking in a jargon nobody could follow. Harriet watched them with an amused and relieved smile. Turning to Ellen, she laughed openly.

"He may be fifty-one, but he's still a rambunctious boy!"

"That's why you love him, don't you?"

"That, and his big heart. I have done my share of stupid things in the past that hurt him, but he would always forgive me, truly forgive me."

Ellen looked at her mother in law knowingly.

"Is that why you put up with me? You were just as bad?"

A shadow fell over Harriet's features.

"Worse, sometimes" was all she said.



-------

Chapter 31

The journey down the River Nile was almost anticlimactic after the excitement in Cairo. Maddalena and Ettore were strictly confined to the cabin. Nothing should be risked, so close to safety, and the influence of the former owner of the siblings could easily reach to Rosetta where they were to be picked up for the journey to Malta. The roughly 120 nautical miles from Cairo to ancient Rosetta, or Rashid, took almost three full days, and they arrived in the evening.

A Maltese ship, the Valetta, was lying at the quay, ready to take the travellers on the next leg of their journey. It was decided to dress up the siblings as Indian girls again, and Neeta and Sadie worked on that from sunrise the next morning. The luggage was transferred first, and they could see that each chest was opened and inspected. Clearly, the soldiers were searching for the fugitives, and their spirits sank. They could not delay the disembarkation any more, and there was no way, seemingly, to get the two across the quay unseen. They had to run the gauntlet, hoping the youngsters' masquerade would suffice. At the last moment, Ellen took a deep breath. Maddalena and Ettore had to carry Anthony and Sally on their arms, and Ellen made them understand to walk right behind her, head bowed.

Then she told Neeta to take off the cape she usually wore, exposing her in all her colourful and strange beauty. Ellen herself took off her head scarf and opened her hair. The waist-long blond tresses flowed freely over her back, and she took a moment to brush them into a golden cascade. Then she gave the sign to leave ship.

The 120 feet from the barge to the gangplank of the merchant ship were the longest walk Ellen ever made. She forced herself to walk leisurely and with dignity, head held high, and looking around, letting her hair move in the soft breeze. Neeta and Sadie bracketed Maddalena and Ettore between them, and Sir Anthony with Harriet brought up the rear, together with John Little. Harriet had taken off her head scarf, too, following Ellen's example, and her reddish hair, only slightly streaked with grey, was another eye catcher.

The quick glances around told Ellen that she had not miscalculated. Every eye on the quay was on her; her brazen display of feminine beauty left the workers and soldiers breathless. Not one of them had ever seen hair like hers, let alone on a woman clothed in Western style. Scarcely anyone seemed to cast a single glance at her entourage, and those who did where captured by Neeta's naked midriff and the gay colours of her silk sari or by Harriet's red hair. Whatever the reasons were, Ellen's or Harriet's hair, Neeta's tummy, or the effective masquerade of the two youngsters, they made it safely to the gangplank of the merchant man.

Richard had not spoken a single word on the short walk, but once they were in their cabin, his hand let go of the sword hilt he had held the entire time. Similarly, Sir Anthony, who had held one pistol at the ready under a coat he held over his arm, relaxed.

"Ellen, that was brilliant!" he conceded, "although I thought my heart would stop any moment."

The enormity of the risk she had just run made Ellen weak, and she sat.

"It worked!" she expostulated. "This was probably the most shameless act I ever undertook." A silly giggle rose to her mouth, shaking her shoulders. "It will be a while before those soldiers can attend to their duties again."

"I'll speak with the captain. Perhaps we can weigh anchor today. I think everyone is on board, and I'd rather not wait until somebody became suspicious."

Sir Anthony rose and left the cabin. He found the Maltese captain on the quarterdeck and introduced himself. Fortunately, the man spoke good English, and Sir Anthony was able to persuade him to leave early, in fact within the next hours. He cited urgent government business and promised an extra gratification for captain and crew.

And really, within two hours flat, the Valetta went up-anchor and crept out into the big stream. Before the sun set, they had cleared the mouth of the river and passed the last Egyptian coastal battery. It was done.

-------

The harbour of La Valetta was one of the most beautiful sights Sir Anthony had ever seen. The fortifications built by the Knights of St. John were awe-inspiring, contrasting white with the blue sky and the green sea. Most importantly, Malta was British, and they would have a chance to rest in peace and security.

As travellers on government business, they were invited to the Governor's residence, in fact the former palace of the Knight Commanders. The British Governor, Vice-Admiral Lord Hornblower, was junior to Sir Anthony, and he greeted them effusively. They had last met in 1802, during the blockade of Brest, and Sir Anthony knew him as a brilliant officer who, like himself, had made it from the most humble origins. He mad married wisely, too; his wife, Lady Hornblower, was the youngest sister of the Duke of Wellington. Some of Lord Hornblower's achievements and distinctions were rumoured to be owed to this fact. As Foreign Office representative, Richard received a friendly welcome in his own right, while Lady Hornblower who did not have children of her own opened her heart to Little Anthony and Sally.

For once, Ellen met a woman whose social skills and standing far surpassed her own. Lady Hornblower had been hostess for her brother at the Vienna Congress, and she knew almost every crowned head in Europe. She also found out quickly who the Lamberts had brought with them. Maddalena and Ettore were the only children of the Savoyan Viceroi of Sardinia, Guiseppe-Maria Robert, Conte di Castelvero, and they had been taken captive almost two years ago when the ship that took them from Genoa to Cagliari was taken by Algerian pirates. Lady Hornblower immediately saw the political impact; the Viceroi would be indebted to the British forever. She saw to it that Maddalena and Ettore were clothed according to their stand and given appropriate accommodations in the palace.

Ettore had picked up some English, as had Maddalena, but a translator was procured who helped to interview the youngsters. Ettore could tell a little bit about the small harbour on the Algerian coast where they had been landed, an information Lord Hornblower would pass on to the French authorities in Algiers. Maddalena, however, would not talk about her experiences at all. Her demeanour had become withdrawn, almost morose. Ellen began to sense the reasons behind the girl's withdrawal, and one evening, she pulled Ettore to the side to question him. He was stubborn, however, in his refusal to talk about his sister. The loyalty between the siblings was strong.

The next evening, after dinner, Ellen went into Maddalena's room. The girl looked up at her with her usual mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. Unasked, Ellen sat down on the bed beside the girl. She knew that Maddalena had enough English already.

"Maddalena, won't you tell me what happened to you?"

The girl's eyes flew open, and she shook her head, clearly pleading to be left alone.

"Maddalena, we can't help you if you don't tell us."

She shook her head, sending the black curls dancing.

"Nobody help me!" she said through gritted teeth.

"Don't say that, please! We are your friends. Has it to do with that merchant, did he force you?"

A look of confusion was on the girl's face now, she did not understand.

"The man, the merchant, Maddalena, did he take you?"

Maddalena's eyes filled with tears as she nodded.

"He say want me, not hurt Ettore."

"He threatened to hurt your little brother if you did not give in? Hurt, how?"

Maddalena pointed at her own crotch and made a cutting motion with her hand, the gesture crystal clear in its meaning.

"Your brother was safe then?" Ellen asked softly.

The girl shook her head. "Man say, Ettore too big, must cut him. I kill guard at night, and we run, find you."

"Then you saved him twice, you really did," Ellen said, taking Maddalena's hand. "You are a brave girl, a wonderful girl, the best sister Ettore could find. Your father will be proud of you."

A bitter laugh broke forth from the girl's mouth. She said something in Italian, but the only word Ellen could make out was "convento" - monastery. She understood. The girl, her maidenhood taken, would never find a husband in the circles of her father. From Maria, she knew already that, in Catholic countries, girls like Maddalena were locked away in a monastery to keep the family name unblemished. Her heart went out to the young woman. Only sixteen, and her life and dreams were over, for all purposes. Out of impulse, she put her hand on Maddalena's arm.

"Come with us! The governor will send your brother to your father and to safety. And you can come with us. If you don't want to live with us, my mother will take you in, I am sure. You will be free."

To say Maddalena was shocked was an understatement. She looked at Ellen with open mouth while she tried to digest the words. Ellen saw a cloud of doubt on her face.

"What do when with you?"

"Whatever you want. First, you will have to learn English, of course. We will help you find a place in life."

"Why you do that?"

Yes, why did Ellen want to help this girl? Was it because she was already accustomed to pick up strays? Was it because life had dealt a bad hand to the girl? Or was it because the young girl's dark beauty appealed to her? The last thought was unsettling, but she dismissed it quickly. In the end, she thought she had an answer.

"When I was your age, I was alone in the world and miserable. My parents were dead, and I had to run from my stepfather, just as you ran from that merchant. But I found a wonderful woman who took me in, and a wonderful man to marry me. I've had so much good fortune, I want to give back some of it to those who are in need."

She had spoken slowly, waiting after each word for understanding to show in Maddalena's eyes. When she was finished, Maddalena nodded in response.

"I wanta coma with you."

Ellen felt a big relief, and she hugged the girl spontaneously. For the first time, Maddalena hugged her back.

-------

Ellen spoke to Lady Hornblower, the next morning, and she explained the gist of what she had found out and what she planned to do. Her hostess agreed emphatically that the girl deserved better than to be locked away in a monastery. Together, they went to his Excellency's office and presented the case. Lord Hornblower was easily persuaded (he wisely followed his wife's counsel in all social matters), and he promised to organise transportation to Cagliari for the boy Ettore. Lady Hornblower suggested he sent his young cousin, Lt. Jonathan Hornblower, who served as aide-de-camp to the governor, to accompany the boy and to deliver him into his father's care.

Next, the two women went to find Maddalena and her brother and found them together in the boy's room. Both had been crying, apparently, and their eyes were downcast as Lady Hornblower explained her offer. The siblings looked at each other and, after an encouraging nod from the boy, Maddalena consented.

A few days later, everything was arranged. HM sloop Clotho, 22 guns, under orders from the harbour admiral, sailed for Cagliari with the boy and with letters from the governor and from Maddalena. She had spent days over those letters, explaining to her father her motives but also what had happened to her in Cairo. Assuring him of her love, she asked for forgiveness for failing to return.

Ellen held Maddalena's shoulders from behind as they watched the sloop leaving the harbour under her white sails. Ellen felt the silent sobs that shook her young charge, and she hugged her more tightly, assuring the girl of her friendship and support.

Three days later, they boarded the regular steam packet, the Hermes, owned by the Peninsular Steam Navigation Company. Lord Hornblower and his wife personally saw them off. Lady Hornblower and Ellen parted as friends, and they planned to meet once the governor returned to England. They lived on a manor house near Maidstone in Kent, not too far away from London, where they also had a town house in Bond Street.

Eight days after leaving Valetta, they reached Gibraltar where they took coal. The Hermes was a better ship than the Hugh Lindsay, with more room and more efficient engines. The top heavy construction, however, was the same, and she rolled heavily in the seas. After leaving Gibraltar, where they took a few more passengers, the next stop was Oporto. They took leave from the ship for a day, strolling the narrow streets of the city and enjoying the food in a tavern they found overlooking the harbour.

Two days later found them on their last leg, 1100 nautical miles, from Oporto to London. The mood changed. For more than a year, they had been gone. More than a year, they had not received news from family members and friends. Suddenly, Harriet began to fret over whether Eleanor was all right. A lot of things can happen in sixteen months, including pregnancy and child birth, illness and death. They all grew nervous as the Hermes plowed her way through the Atlantic Ocean and into the English Channel.

Reaching the Thames estuary, the Hermes once more proved her superiority over sailing ships in that she steamed upstream against the running tide. It was a Sunday, March 21, 1831, when the Hermes reached her berth in the Pool of London. A billet was sent to Cavendish Square, and to Boscombe Drive to inform Harriet's mother and Eleanor of their safe return. Then, a number of rented cabs were procured. While Sir Anthony and Harriet drove for their own house, and John Little headed for his home, the rest of the party piled into three cabs and gave Cavendish Square as their destination.

Driving through London's streets was almost unreal after the last months, Ellen found. And two people were missing, Mabel was dead, and Millicent would not return to England for another half year or more. The new additions, Neeta and Maddalena, looked about with wonder in their eyes. Never had either of them seen the like of this capital.

When the cabs drew up in front of their house, old Lady Lambert was already standing at the top of the stairs. Ellen rushed up the steps to hug her, and she was shocked to feel bones under the fabric of the dress. Lady Lambert had become terribly thin, almost emaciated. She saw the shock and worry in Ellen's eyes.

"Thank god you are back safely, my darling girl. And Richard, too. I was worried I would not see you again. Let me see my great-grandson!"

Ellen motioned to Neeta, and the black haired young woman with the strange features and clothing hesitantly approached the old woman, Little Anthony on her arm. A peaceful smile showed on the old woman's face.

"What a strong boy! Hello, Anthony!"

Little Anthony decided to be graceful and smiled. Lady Lambert looked at Neeta who bowed in her fashion.

"Greetings, Memsahib! I am Neeta. Memsahib Ellen told me of you. I am your servant, too."

"Neeta is a treasure, grandmother," Ellen hurried to explain. "She will be my confidential servant, as Millicent had been."

"Where is Millicent, and where is Mabel?"

The pain showed in Ellen's eyes.

"Mabel died of a snake bite in Calcutta. Richard and I have taken her daughter in. But Millicent is married. She'll return to England in a few months."

Lady Lambert shook her head. "The poor girl! Some people never have the luck they deserve. And who is the black-eyed beauty, yonder?"

"Another girl who has not yet found the happiness she deserves. Her name is Maddalena, and we rescued her from slavery. Grandmother, we have so much to tell, let us come in and get changed."

"Of course! Here I stand in the cold, keeping you from coming in."

Ellen showed Neeta in while Richard hugged his grandmother. He, too, was shocked at her appearance and sad. Once they were in, Ellen called for the coach to be readied. With an apologetic smile she asked to be excused for an hour. The coach quickly brought her to the steps of the Wilkes' house. Excitedly, Ellen ran up the stairs and knocked on the door. A young girl of perhaps fifteen years, with brown hair and a fresh face opened the door and stared at Ellen. Then, she obviously recognised the visitor and curtseyed.

"I am Ellen Carter, Sir Jonathan's and Lady Wilkes' daughter. Are they in?"

"Yes, milady, please come in."

"I don't think I know you?"

"I'm sorry, milady," the girl answered, quite flustered. "I am Violet. Sir Jonathan and his wife adopted me last year."

Ellen raised an eyebrow while different emotions washed over her in quick succession. First came surprise, then jealousy, then relief, and finally, understanding. She, Ellen, had moved on, and Lucy wanted to fill the void. A smile formed on Ellen's lips.

"I suppose this makes us sisters. I am happy to meet you, Violet. And please, call me Ellen."

Violet nodded, a little dumbfounded, and led the way to the living room.

"This way, please, mil ... Ellen."

"Thank you, Violet," Ellen smiled, as if she did not know the way herself.

But then she stood in the familiar living room and saw the faces so dear to her. Before Lucy was able to get up from her chair, she had an arm full of Ellen. Tears of joy formed in their eyes and they could not get enough of each other's feel. Finally, Jonathan Wilkes cleared his throat, and Ellen let go of Lucy, throwing herself in her stepfather's arms instead. Finally, when Ellen had her emotions under control, Lucy pushed Violet forward.

"We decided to find another daughter, Ellen. This is Violet."

Ellen smiled mischievously. "I know, she told me. So I have a sister now? I did not cure you of having daughters?"

"Close, but not quite," Sir Jonathan quipped. "Did you all return safe and sound?"

"I have so much to tell you, but today's not the time. I promise, I'll come with Richard and Tony, and then we'll tell you all the things we saw. Would you believe me if I told you that I climbed the Great Pyramid and the Great Sphinx? Me, Ellen Trilby? I saw elephants in India and camels in biblical lands! Wait until I bring my gifts!"

"I can't wait to hear of your adventures, Ellen," Sir Jonathan smiled. "So I take it, everybody returned safely?"

The words permeated Ellen's brain, and the exuberant mood left her.

"No, we had to bury poor Mabel in Calcutta. She was bitten by a King Cobra. Father, that was terrible. The good Dr. Donovan did what he could, but she still died within hours. Richard and I have adopted Mabel's little daughter. She is ours now. And Millicent stayed in Calcutta. She married Dr. Donovan. They will be back in England later this year. But I brought one of our Indian servants with me, Neeta. And then we helped an Italian girl escape from slavery in Egypt, and we brought her with us, too. This was so frightening! We had to smuggle her out of the country."

"You must tell me about this snake accident later. Or perhaps we can meet this Doctor Donovan when he returns to England."

"Oh father, he knows you! He heard your lectures in Glasgow, a few years ago. You are his hero."

"Oh! Perhaps it's not a good idea then to meet him."

"But I promised already that you would see him! And I promised to ask you to consider him for your staff. He is a very nice and able young physician. And compassionate with his patients."

Sir Jonathan sighed. "I hope you did not get his hopes up too high. There is a lot of competition for the staff positions."

"You'll find him an excellent addition, of that I am sure," Ellen smiled, her optimism maintaining the upper hand.

"You don't give up easily, do you," Sir Jonathan laughed.

"Think of it, father, would I be married today if I gave up easily?"

"And since you are happy, you want all the people around you to be happy, too," Lucy stated.

"That's not a bad thing, is it?" Ellen protested.

"No," Lucy laughed, " but it makes life difficult for your relatives and friends. Not everybody has the potential to be as happy as you want them to be."

"That's something to think about," Ellen conceded with a slight frown.

-------

She found Richard and his grandmother in the salon when she returned.

"Richard just told me of your performance in Rosetta. You shouldn't have taken such a risk."

"It was the only way. I know men by now, and I know my effect on them. It was a calculated risk, but you are right, it was a one time occurrence. I felt bad afterwards, like a trollop, for leading them on."

"Be that as it may, I would have liked to see it, all the same," Lady Lambert smiled.

"You are right, it was funny, too."

They talked a bit more about the people Ellen had met in Calcutta and in Bombay. Some of them, Lady Lambert knew, of others, she had heard, and she was eager to hear about the Yorks.

"Samuel York is a coming man, mark my words, Richard. His poor wife, though, will face a lot of prejudice. Be her friend, Ellen, don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Rebecca is my friend, and I dare anyone to speak ill of her," Ellen stated with conviction. "For that, I need no inducement."

"That's good, Ellen. Now what do you plan to do with those girls you brought?"

"With Neeta, it is easy. She will fill Millicent's role. She is loyal and quick-minded. As for Maddalena, I have no plans other than to let her choose her own path in life. It's hard to imagine what she went through at the hands of the slavers and her owner, and she will need time to heal. Let her learn English first, so that she can make her choices known. I shall employ a tutor. Neeta can join those lessons, too, if she wants."

"That sounds sensible. Oh, I already told Richard but you don't know it yet. I have a second great-grandson. Eleanor gave birth on Christmas day. They named the boy Henry, or Enrique, as Antonio prefers, after his uncle. Henry Humbert Ruiz de Costa. Humbert MacAllister acted as godfather."

A big smile split Ellen's face. "Oh, I'm so happy for them! We must see them as soon as possible! Are they in London?"

The old woman nodded. "Of course. And Antonio's mother finally married the Marquis. You missed one memorable wedding! They contemplated waiting for your return, but then, nobody knew when you would be back."

"There is so much for us to catch up!" Ellen groaned.

"First things first," Richard smiled. "Tomorrow, we'll visit Eleanor. Then, your parents. Then, the MacAllisters."

Ellen laughed. "Really?"

"Yes, Aunt Emily is Lady Emily MacAllister now. They married in June last year."

"Did they all wait for us to be away to marry?" Ellen complained. "That's two weddings and a baptism that we missed already. I have news, too. I have a sister, a stepsister. Lucy and Jonathan adopted another girl. I don't know the specifics yet, but her name is Violet, and I like her already."

Richard raised his eyebrows. "What, they didn't have their fill after you?"

Ellen laughed. "That was my first question, too. It's strange. For a second I was actually jealous. But now, I'm just happy for them."

At dinner, Ellen noticed how little Lady Lambert ate, and she tried to encourage her. But the old woman shook her head.

"I seem to have lost my appetite for a while. I suppose eating alone all the time was bad for me. Now things will be better again."

After dinner, the travellers went upstairs. Both were tired, but mostly, they wanted to enjoy the solitude of their bedroom after living close with five other adults for three months. They checked the children in Anthony's room. Neeta was still with them, obviously not at ease yet with the strange house and seeking comfort in the presence of her charges. She actually asked whether she could sleep in the nursery for a couple of days, and Ellen, anxious to ease the young woman's mind, agreed.

They retired to their bedroom then, and Ellen let herself fall backwards onto their bed, luxuriating in its softness and size.

"How I missed this!" she sighed. Then she gave Richard a pointed look. "There are other things I missed as well."

"Believe me, I missed that, too," Richard said with conviction. "I love my parents, really, but being forced to keep my hands off you almost killed me. Especially after we left Rosetta. You had me so aroused!"

"Really, you too?" Ellen laughed mischievously. "That can be helped."

With deft movements, she pulled the needles from her hair and opened the braid. Richard held his breath.

"Do you want me to brush your hair, darling?" he asked with a husky voice.

Wordlessly, Ellen stood and walked to her dresser. She sat on the stool in front of the mirror and held a brush for Richard. Carefully, he brushed her hair, strand by strand, pulling open the tangles. When he had finished, her hair was a golden cascade again. Still wordlessly, Ellen stood up and opened her blouse. Pulling it off, she next opened the buttons that held her skirt and let in fall off her hips and at her feet. Stepping from the puddle of cloth at her feet, she opened her bodice. Piece by piece, she took of her underwear until, at last, she stood naked in front of Richard.

Richard had not moved. He had watched his wife undress with a mixture of sexual excitement and open admiration. He waited until she was naked, and then he looked at her some more, drinking in the sight, before he stepped forward. With both hands, he pulled her head forward to kiss her, and Ellen's naked form melted against him.

To Ellen's delighted shriek, he picked her into his arms and carried her over to the bed where he dumped her unceremoniously onto the covers. With quick and precise movements, he took off his own clothes while Ellen watched him with hooded eyes.

And then they were together, body against body, their breath mingling as they kissed, his hairy chest against Ellen's silky skin. For a long while they just felt each other. Richard was painfully erect, but more than everything, he wanted to re-establish the closeness they had had before their long journey.

"This feels wonderful. I missed this so much," Ellen whispered, echoing his thoughts.

"No evening entertainment for the next weeks," Richard stated. "No soirees, no concerts, no dining out. For the next weeks I want to enjoy you."

"That sounds nice," Ellen said with a dreamy voice. "Perhaps we could have another child, too."

If that was possible, Richard's penis became even harder at that thought. He rolled on top of her. He only planned to kiss his way down to Ellen's breasts, but she had other ideas. Enclosing him with her legs, she pulled him down on her.

"I'm ready for you," she whispered into his ear.

With one hand, she deftly gripped his penis while the other hand opened her folds for him. Then she placed the tip at her entrance, and, with a strangled cry, Richard pushed.

Heaven on earth! Ellen fit him like a tight glove, and he felt the ripples of her own excitement as he penetrated deeper and deeper with each thrust. When he was finally seated in her, she stayed him.

"Wait, let me enjoy the fullness," she asked.

Small ripples raced along the walls of her vagina, he felt. He was lying perfectly still, perched above Ellen, on his elbows, enjoying the soft massage by her slippery canal.

"Do you feel me?" she whispered.

"Yes, you feel wonderful," he assured her.

"Move now, but slowly, we have time," she told him.

And slowly he moved. He pulled his member out until only the tip was lodged between her lips. In that position, he remained, until he felt her heels pressing against his buttocks, urging him back in. He resisted, waiting for her to plead.

"Please, darling, back in!"

He complied, pushing slowly, deeper and deeper, until his hair meshed with hers. A satisfied sigh from Ellen was his reward. Her feet held him deep inside her, and again, he felt the soft contractions around his member.

For minutes, they continued this game of slow withdrawal and reinsertion, in fact, until Richards arms grew tired from supporting his weight. He told Ellen.

"Pull out, darling, and lie on your back!"

Again, he complied. It felt good to let her take the lead. He remembered the incredible experience in Calcutta when Ellen had taken the initiative, too. On his back, he had a magnificent view of her body as she straddled his midsection and inserted the tip of his penis into her slick opening. She pushed down, until their pubes mashed against each other, and remained there for a few seconds. Then she began to massage him by tilting her hips, in fact undulating them. The movements were minuscule, but he felt the delicious friction of her tight walls against his straining manhood.

In the flickering candle light, he could see the sheen of perspiration on her face and an expression of intense concentration. All her being seemed to be focussed on their joining. Then she looked into his eyes, and a smile of wonder showed on her face. The pulsing of her muscled walls increased, and then, suddenly, her eyes squeezed shut and she began to shudder.

When Ellen opened her eyes again, they sparkled with joy. She bent down to kiss him.

"Now it's your turn, darling," she promised.

Her hips began their undulating dance again, creating wonderful feelings for Richard, and she also began short up and down movements. Those movements increased more and more, until merely the head of his penis was lodged in her on the upward end and before she impaled herself again. No tenderness was in these movements anymore; she was riding him was all he was worth! Her breasts bounced on her chest, and her hair was flying back and forth with her movements.

Abandoning his passive role, Richard took both of her breasts in his hands and rolled the elongated nipples between thumb and index finger.

"Yesss!" Ellen hissed encouragingly as he squeezed and rolled the soft tissue.

Deep inside his loins, a tidal wave was rising, he felt. He tried to fight it, tried to prolong the coupling, rolling his toes as he fought for control. But when the tip of his penis bumped against Ellen's inner mound once more, he lost it. Wrapping both hands into her hair, he pulled her head down, mashing her lips with his own, forcing his tongue into her, while his hips lifted off the bed as he tried to penetrate her as deep as possible. Again, he touched the inner core, and this triggered his release. Deep inside her, he unloaded spurt after spurt of his semen. Still buried deep inside her, Richard flipped his wife over on her back, continuing to pump into her with abandon. Yes, they would create new life this night! Of that he was sure, and the knowledge increased his passion.

Only slowly did his movements abate, and then he lay motionless on top of a limp Ellen. After a while, her hands began to wipe the sweat off his forehead, those cool, delicate hands that he loved so much. With Herculean effort, he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked into Ellen's face. She smiled, blissfully, and continued to caress his face.

"It will be a wonderful child, Richard, it has to be with all the love I feel right now."

For some reason, tears welled up in his eyes.

"I love you so much, darling," he whispered, not trusting his voice.

"I can feel that," Ellen smiled back. "Can we sleep naked tonight? I want to feel you against my skin."

Carefully, Richard withdrew his shrinking member from Ellen and stretched out beside her. Ellen pulled up the sheets to cover them and cuddled against Richard with her backside. In this position they lay awake for a short while, once more discussing the events during their absence, but then, Richard blew out the candle and sleep claimed the upper hand.

-------

Over the next days, they fell into a pattern. Mornings were spent with Richard's grandmother and with teaching Maddalena the rudiments of English. Afternoons were reserved for visiting relatives and friends.

The first afternoon at home, they visited Eleanor and Antonio. Once more, the strong bond between Eleanor and Richard showed when they hugged each other for minutes while Eleanor cried tears of joy. Then it was Ellen's turn. In Eleanor's embrace, she remembered those nights spent together, and the memory made her blush. So much had happened since then, but Eleanor's body against hers was still exciting.

Of course, they had to admire Henry Ruiz de Costa, named after Antonio's uncle, Enrique. At three months, he could already hold up his head which was covered with short black hair. Antonio was bursting with pride over his first son, and he treated Eleanor like a queen.

When the wet nurse had brought the infant boy to bed again, the two couples sat together and Ellen and Richard had to relate the events of the last year. It was almost dinnertime when they split. Ellen was already growing tired from telling the same events time and again. On the way home, she spoke about it.

"The thought of telling those stories another five to ten times makes me shudder. No wonder travellers always tell lies about their adventures; they grow bored with the truth."

"Yet, our friends want to know. Perhaps, we can share the burden. I speak one evening, you the next."

Ellen laughed at the idea, but then she stopped. "You know, that's the idea. I have to write down our experiences, as long as I still remember them truthfully. I'll talk to Colleen, she will give me advice."

That night, when they lay in bed, Ellen and Richard made love again. Not with the urgent need of the night before, but in a more relaxed and languid mood. It felt good to them, though, for they were quickly regaining their closeness.

The next day, a Saturday, saw them at the Wilkes' house, and Richard met Violet for the first time. To meet a real life Baron of the United Kingdom had a dampening effect on Violet's loquacity, as a matter of fact, she almost did not speak a word. It took all afternoon for her to thaw, and when Ellen and Richard left, Ellen still did not know the circumstances of Violet's adoption.

What Ellen knew, though, was that she had missed her stepparents, and they had missed her. It felt good to have all those loved ones within reach ... All through her trials and tribulations, Lucy had been her stalwart supporter, her rock in the surf, her mother in short. She mentioned that to Richard, and he confessed to feel the same about having his grandmother and his sister around again.

The visit with the MacAllisters on the next afternoon was more fun. Emily had gone through a massive change. Gone was the withdrawn woman so insecure about her standing. In her place, they found an attractive woman of thirty-two years who dealt with her husband at eye level. Clearly, Sir Humbert was appreciative of his new wife, and he was a most caring stepfather to her daughters. They were a happy family, and even Colleen spent a lot of time in her father's house, in spite of her resounding success. 'Shanghaied', the story of Antonio's trials on board the whaler, sold very well, and Colleen spent many evenings reading from her book in literary circles.

When Ellen told about her adventures in India and in Egypt and that she had kept a diary and made sketches, Colleen urged her to tell more. Soon the two young women were locked in a serious discussion whether to write down and publish Ellen's impressions. Colleeen suggested to have Melissa have a look at Ellen's sketches. Perhaps she could create etchings from the pencil drawings Ellen had made.



-------

Chapter 32: A "Turneround"

After six weeks in London, Ellen was satisfied that she had seen most of her friends and acquaintances. She had quickly grown tired of relating her adventures, and she volunteered information only when friends asked her explicitly. What she enjoyed were the sessions with Colleen and Melissa. The three women worked together, writing about the journey, with a focus on the Overland Route, with Melissa making an effort to transform Ellen's awkward sketches into simple etchings. Every day, they worked for one or two hours, and then Colleen would work with Maddalena for another hour, teaching her English. The young girl was gaining proficiency in English, and she was able to make herself understood, albeit with a heavy accent. Colleen worked on her pronunciation, but also on teaching her to read and write in English. Colleen's reward was that she received a firsthand account of life inside a harem, and in her mind, she was forming a concept for a novel. Of course, she would never use Maddalena's name or make her identifiable.

In the meantime, Ellen was also waiting for something to happen, or rather, not to happen. She had missed her first period after returning to England, and now she was due again. She was feeling definitely different, too. She was upbeat even beyond her normal optimistic disposition, and she felt more emotional when she was with Richard. It was too early yet to be sure, but Ellen thought she might be expecting again, and the possibility made her giddy.

She also met with Eleanor on an almost daily basis. The two young women were rebuilding their friendship after more than a year of separation. Mostly, Eleanor would visit Ellen. This allowed her to see her grandmother, too, and Old Lady Lambert enjoyed seeing both her great-grandsons on a regular basis. The old woman had recovered somewhat, but at her age, any weight gain was painfully slow. Eleanor confessed to Ellen that Antonio was feeling restless. He had always had tasks to perform, but now, after relinquishing the ambassador position to his successor, there was almost nothing for him to do.

Since Richard was at loose ends as well, the two young men ended up spending time together. Antonio introduced Richard to a few compatriots of his, men of wealth and proud ancestry, who had moved their European interest to England. These men had fought for the independence of their countries against Spain, and Spain regarded them as traitors. King William's government, on the other hand, had been sympathetic to their cause, and it was natural that many of the former Spanish grandees were attracted to London.

The key event was when one of these men asked Richard and Antonio for financial advice. The man had been cheated in several instances when he bought into enterprises that went bankrupt shortly after. The traditional bank houses often did not have enough entrepreneurial expertise to advise him. The man even offered Richard a healthy compensation. Richard promised the man to look into possible venues for him to invest in. One of the next days, he and Antonio had lunch with Sir Robert Norton. Richard had thought about the whole matter, and when the men sat after lunch, drinking port, he made his proposition.

Sir Robert's keen business sense found a few small faults with the plan, easily corrected, but voiced his agreement and support. He even asked to be a partner, and of course, adding Sir Robert's name to the enterprise would give it an immense boost from the start. They agreed on further talks.

That evening, in bed, Richard approached Ellen about his idea.

"Ellen, darling, I need your opinion on an idea that Antonio and I developed."

Ellen's warm smile encouraged him to plunge into the middle right away.

"We think about founding a bank. Not your normal bank. More like an institution that advises people on how to invest their money most wisely. Evaluating enterprises, arranging for financial transfers, issuing the shares of new enterprises. Sir Robert is supporting us and may even lend his name as a partner."

Ellen thought about this.

"You want to become a businessman?"

"Strange idea, isn't it?" Richard laughed. "I would like to try my idea, though. Antonio is with me, too."

"It's hard for me to form an opinion, Richard. You know far more about matters of commerce. If you want to do that, you will find my full support as always."

"So you would not mind? Some people in the circles you move in might look down on me for entering into the money business."

"Darling, whatever anybody thinks of us, I will never feel anything but pride for you."

"Why is it that I always feel blessed after having such conversations with you?" Richard smiled.

"Because I feel blessed, too. Even more than you know. I talked to Lucy today, and she agrees with me. Richard, I am with child again!"

"Really?" Richard's face showed the battling emotions of concern, happiness and pride. "How can you know so soon? We've been back for less than two months."

Ellen shook her head, smiling. "It must have happened on the pyramid, Richard."

Suddenly, she was pulled into Richard's arms, and his kisses rained on her lips, her nose and her eyes. Then he held her face a few inches from his own.

"Wherever, whenever we started this new life, it will be a wonderful child. Because you will be its mother. I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

"Perhaps, if you were to show your appreciation more convincingly?" Ellen suggested, kissing him back.

"Can I, I mean with our child growing inside you?"

"Oh, Richard, of course. I need your love more than ever, and every aspect of your love."

"I can do that," Richard smiled back.

-------

It was a very satisfied Ellen who sat at her tea table in the garden room the next forenoon, reading some of the accumulated letters and writing a few of her own. Richard had gone to confer with Antonio, and Ellen enjoyed her leisure. A clearly distressed butler Oldroyd showed shortly after eleven o'clock.

"Milady, there's a young gentleman and his wife who have enquired about Mabel. A Mr. Turner, milady, Esra Turner."

Somehow, the name was familiar to Ellen. Yes, of course. Mabel had told her about the son of the family where she had worked before, the young man who impregnated her. According to Mable, he had promised to look after her as soon as he came into his own means.

"Show them in, Oldroyd," she said, curious to learn the nature of this visit.

The young couple was clearly flustered as they were ushered in by the butler.

"Good day, how may I be of service?" Ellen asked.

"Hrhm," the young man started. "My name is Esra Turner, milady, and this is my wife, Ruth. We came to inquire about Mabel Thomas. I am ... I was ... Miss Thomas was..."

"You mean to say that you and Mabel committed a certain indiscretion, an indiscretion she was left alone to deal with," Ellen said uncompromisingly.

The young man blushed.

"That is true, milady, too true. I had no means of my own, and my parents did not allow me to come to Mabel's assistance. But I am of age now and I, I mean we, are independent. Could we speak to her, please?"

He seemed earnest enough, Ellen thought. She dreaded what she had to say next, but their was no way around that.

"That is not possible anymore, I'm afraid. I regret to inform you that poor Mabel perished in India from the bite of a venomous snake. She was interred in Calcutta."

The young man turned pale and swayed.

"I failed her," he gasped.

His young wife put her arm around his shoulder.

"He has tried so long to find her, milady. That was why he agreed to ... marry me. My dowry ... it made him independent. Now it was all in vain."

To say that Ellen was astonished was an understatement. The young woman had spoken with perfect calmness and acceptance.

"Mrs. Turner, did I understand you correctly? Your husband married you to have the money to get his ... paramour back?"

She looked at the man. His face was buried in his hands. Ruth Turner looked back.

"You don't understand, milady. I love him, and I am his wife. It is enough for me, it is more than I could hope for."

"To each his own," Ellen muttered weakly.

Ruth Turner had one more urgent question.

"Milady, Mabel Thomas had a daughter. Could you name the orphanage where she was placed? My husband will want to assume responsibility for her."

"Sally lives with us. My husband has adopted her the day after Mabel's burial."

Mrs. Turner looked crestfallen.

"Oh, I had hoped..."

Suddenly, Ellen was apprehensive. Was there a possibility that Ruth Turner wished to raise the daughter of her dead rival? Little Sally, or Sarah, as she was officially named, had grown to Ellen. Of course, the natural father had certain prerogatives, but she would fight the Turners, tooth and nails, to protect the girl against an upbringing without love. Ellen took a breath.

"Do you and your husband wish to see Sarah?" she asked, more nicely than she felt.

The young man looked up at her.

"If that is possible, I should be very grateful, milady," he answered.

Ellen rose to ring the bell. When the butler, Oldroyd, showed, she asked him to notify Neeta to bring "Miss Sarah" down. She also asked him to have some tea brought into the reception room. With a measured bow, the old man limped from the room.

Ellen sighed. Oldroyd had become an old man. He was fiercely loyal to Old Lady Lambert, yet he had the tact to treat Ellen with all the respect she could ask for. She would have to ask him how he planned to spend his old age. Perhaps, he could supervise and train a young man to fill the butler position. That would allow him to remain in his position without running around the house. Ellen decided to speak with Richard's grandmother about this.

She was torn from her musing when Neeta showed. The temperatures in wintery London had quickly convinced the young woman of the advantages of European clothing, and she wore a conventional nurse's outfit. Her only concession to her own style was the head scarf she wore instead of a bonnet. She led Sally by her hand and bowed to Ellen.

"Memsahib asked for Salih?"

"Yes, thank you, Neeta. Please, wait for a moment while my visitors can meet with Sally."

Esra Turner stared at the little girl, and Ellen saw that he had tears in his eyes.

"She is so pretty, just like her mother!" he said.

Ellen shook her head at this gaffe and quickly looked at Ruth Turner. The young woman had flinched at his words, and a pained expression passed over her features. She was by no means ugly, Ellen thought, but she was dressed in a most disadvantageous way and she was so sombre! With a little make up, a smile on her face, and dressed in a formfitting dress, she would be called pretty, Ellen thought. An idea formed in her brain.

Meanwhile, Esra Turner tore himself away from his little daughter.

"Milady, I am forever grateful to you for taking such good care of Mabel's daughter. I understand that his Lordship adopted her as his daughter?"

"That is so, Mr. Turner. I may add that he did it with my full and unreserved support."

The young man thought for a moment.

"On the risk of sounding presumptuous, milady, would you not consider giving the girl into our care?"

Ellen raised her eyebrows.

"Mr. Turner, this is not for me to decide, and it is a weighty decision for all concerned. I really feel that you should discuss such matters with your wife first. I, for one, would need to discuss it with Lord Lambert."

"Certainly, milady. Ruth, you wouldn't mind, would you?"

Ellen saw resentment behind the dark eyes of the woman and she interceded.

"Mr. Turner, I suggest you discuss such things in private. I need to speak with my husband, and you need to reflect on this with your wife. There is no need to rush things. Perhaps, if you and your wife want to see the girl a few times, we can arrange that. Let us wait a few weeks, perhaps months, and come to a decision born of reason, not emotion. After all, Sarah's well being should be our foremost concern."

She caught the grateful look of Ruth Turner and smiled back.

"Perhaps, Mrs. Turner, would you like to visit me in the next days? I would like to talk to you about this matter."

After some polite talk and subtle questioning by Ellen, the Turners thanked her and bade their farewell. Mrs. Turner promised to come for tea on of the next days. When they were gone, Ellen sat with Old Lady Lambert to discuss the visit, and the two women decided on a plan to handle the matter.

Later, Richard returned from a meeting with Sir Robert Norton, and Ellen told him about the visit and the Turners' request. At first, Richard wanted nothing of it. After all, he had adopted the child, and, in his words, Sarah was not a commodity to be passed around until somebody kept her. Ellen had had some time to think about the matter, though.

"Think of your stepsister, Richard. She never really belonged. She always felt as a fifth wheel in your family, unsure of her place. Like it or not, with a prominent stepfather, her being the daughter of a maidservant will almost certainly be used against her when she will grow up. With the Turners, she would feel as part of the family, since she is Esra Turner's acknowledged offspring. Also, her past will be subjected to less scrutiny. I'm not saying we should accede to their wish right away, but we should allow for the possibility."

"But what about Turner's wife? Do you really think she can be a good mother for the girl?"

"That, my dear Richard, should be the key to our decision. I am planning to see her a lot before we give them our mind."

"Are you sure, Ellen?"

"I am. In Sarah's interest. We will have another child soon."

Richard at once rushed over to her and kissed her.

"Ellen, I know we will have another child soon, but I do not want you to feel under pressure to relinquish Sally. We have the right to keep her, and nothing her father did so far gives him any right to her."

Nevertheless, Richard agreed to Ellen's plan to test the possibilities. Accordingly, Ellen invited Ruth Turner to tea, two days later. She wanted to get to know the woman, for even if Esra Turner may be the driving force in the Turner's quest to obtain custody for Sally, it was his wife who would have to play the mother role.

Ruth Turner arrived at half past three, a half hour early, and Ellen felt tempted to let her wait. However, seeing the nervousness of the woman, she recognised the reasons. Ruth Turner was afraid of being the reason her precious husband was denied his daughter. Ellen shook her head. This was a twisted type of marriage. Making no issue of her guest being early, she ushered her into the small tea parlour.

Once again, Ellen shook her head. The woman was dressed in the most unflattering way, in an almost black dress, without any decorations, and following no fashion, at least no fashion of the last ten years. Her hair was done in a tight bun on top, featuring her slightly large and protruding ears in the worst possible way. From the size of the bun, Ellen could see that the hair had to be long and rich, and she wondered why her guest chose to present herself in such a drab appearance. The only thing that she could not make ugly were her expressive eyes and her delicate nose.

When Oldroyd had served them tea, Ellen started a conversation, trying to get a feel for Ruth Turner. She found her completely lacking in her knowledge of society matters, uninterested in fashion, and frighteningly self-depreciating. In short, the woman was a mess from Ellen's point of view, and she would never allow Sally to grow up with Ruth Turner as a mould. After a while, Ellen broached a subject that had been on her mind foremost.

"Mrs. Turner, you must excuse me for asking this, but I was quite astonished when your husband talked so openly of his infatuation with Mabel, and in your presence, too. How can you tolerate such a slight?"

Ruth Turner blushed.

"I know that my husband does not feel affection for me, I knew it when our marriage was arranged. For my father, it meant much when the Turner family accepted me. You have to know that he started from very humble beginnings until he became prosperous during the Great War."

"I take it, a generous dowry made you acceptable?" Ellen could not help but ask.

Ruth only nodded. "Why else would a young man of my husbands standing look at me?"

"Why not?" Ellen asked softly. "You are certainly pretty, at least you could be, if you allowed it."

"Please, milady, do not mock me. I know quite well that I will never entice a man with my looks."

"May I ask you who told you this?"

"Everybody did. My ears are too big, and I am too skinny."

"That's utter rubbish," Ellen expostulated. "With a different hair style, your ears would not even be visible, and you have a perfect figure from what I can see under these dreadful clothes. Why do you dress in these anyway? I cannot be the lack of means, as your husband was dressed quite adequately."

"There is no use in dressing me up. It would be a waste of good money."

"Did your husband tell you that?"

"No. My father told me. He said we better use the money to better our business, because money will get me a better husband than a fancy dress can. He was right, too, for I have a good husband."

"Who does not appreciate you." Ellen said drily, effectively taking the wind from her guest's sails. "Now that you have a good husband, wouldn't you rather he took a fancy to you?"

"Yes, but how could he? He's in love with a dead woman."

"Then you have to alert him to the fact that he is married to a desirable live woman. I can see that you care about him very much. I want to make it quite plain: I will never allow Sally to grow up in a household where the husband does not appreciate his wife. If you want to persuade us to give Sally into your care, these things better change."

"But how?" Ruth Turner whispered, desperate that her failings endangered this matter.

Ellen smiled inwardly. She had the woman where she wanted her.

"Let us start with your outward appearance. Will you accept my tutorship?"

"But I will need funds, for clothes," the woman protested, although not convincingly.

Ellen had to smile.

"Do not tell me that it is not you who holds the purse strings! Your father surely has seen to that."

"But I'm not supposed to spend on myself."

"No change, no Sally, it is really that simple, Mrs. Turner."

Ruth Turner thought for a moment.

"If put like this, you leave me with little choice, milady," she conceded.

"No, I guess I don't. Let's see. I have an appointment at Wilson's for tomorrow. Why don't you accompany me?"

"Wilson's?"

There was panic in Ruth Turner's voice.

"Of course! You need not spend a fortune, though. You can still look like a merchant's wife. You will, however, look like a merchant's wife, and not like a miser's."

"If you think so, milady," Ruth almost whispered, her face flushing.

Ellen smiled. Although the young woman would have denied it if asked, Ruth was already excited by the prospect.

"I suppose, we should start with your hair and make up, though. My husband's grandmother employs a very skilled hairdresser. Let us move to my boudoir, shall we?"

The thought of immediate and irrevocable action scared the young woman for a moment, but with her extortion, Ellen had given her an excuse. After all, she had to comply with Lady Lambert's wishes in order to get her husband's daughter!

Of course, Old Lady Lambert was in on this, and her hair dresser was at the ready. She made a small sound of despair, seeing Ruth Turner's head, but then she went to work. After two hours of work, Ellen was called in again, and she did a double take. The brown hair, freed from the tight bun, was now partly tied in a slim braid, with enough of it free to cover her ears and fame her face with soft waves. Ellen had known her visitor was pretty, but the result of the hair dresser's work surprised her nonetheless. She nodded her appreciation, and the hair dresser proceeded to explain to Ruth how to take care of her new self, including how to prevent her eyebrows from forming intimate contact again.

Ruth Turner listened in rapt attention while she gazed in wonder at her mirror image. Following a spontaneous idea, Ellen sent for one of her own blouses, a cream coloured one, and made Ruth to wear it under her black costume. The effect was obvious, the little colour changed the woman's appearance already.

"Light brown should be your colour, my dear," she told her new protégé who nodded quite dumbfounded.

The next afternoon, Ruth Turner was fitted for a new wardrobe. Her initial resistance melted away quickly. In a quiet moment, she confessed to Ellen that her husband had given her the strict order to abide by Ellen's wishes, and she even smiled shyly when she admitted that he had been quite startled by her change of appearance.

Clothing was not all that Ellen had in mind for Ruth Turner. Her pregnancy was not too advanced yet, and transforming the young woman was Ellen's pet project, apart from dictating her recollections from her journey. She started to involve Ruth in Lucy's charity projects. That brought her in contact with many women of good standing, but it also gave her a chance to excel.

For Ruth Turner had been born with an innate sense for numbers. Within a few weeks, she was in charge of the accounting in Lucy's small group. Dealing with important people in that work also did wonders for her self-esteem, and she began to carry herself with more confidence. On a few occasions, Esra Turner accompanied his wife, and Ellen could see the changes in his attitude, too. He began to realise that fate had indeed favoured him with a devoted, pretty and intelligent wife, and a wife who was acquainted with several important people, too.

One evening, after a tea with Lucy's charity group, Ruth stayed behind. When she and Ellen were alone, she blurted out her news. The night before, Esra Turner had taken her out for dinner, and he had treated her with compliments all evening. And when they returned, he had brought her up to her room, the room in which she had slept alone for almost a year, and he had stayed with her and made love to her. The poor woman was so taken away by this that she had to relate her experience with somebody. When Ellen gave her a benevolent smile, Ruth Turner asked her for a favour.

"Lady Lambert, if you will allow me, I would like to hug you just once. What you did for me changed my life in a way I have never dreamed of."

Of course, Ellen opened her arms, and for a few minutes, she felt the shaking form of Ruth against her own, increasingly pregnant body. All the time, she smiled smugly. Her plans had worked out, with the help of many people, not least of all Richard. She knew that Richard had had a word 'from man to man' with Esra Turner, pointing out to him that if he did not learn to appreciate his pretty wife soon, somebody else might do so, leaving him a cuckold. As Richard had told, the fact that somebody like Lord Lambert deemed Ruth pretty was enough to alarm young Esra Turner and tip the scales of his feelings.

A month later, Richard and Ellen, as well as Neeta and Sadie, had a tearful farewell when the beaming Turners picked up little Sally for good. Ellen knew from Ruth that her husband's newly found desire for her had not abated, and she confessed that she felt a certain gratitude for whoever had instructed Esra in the ways of lovemaking. Two months later, Ellen learned from her friend that Esra Turner's newly inspired efforts had made his wife miss her monthlies twice in a row, and that the Turners were now looking forward to a half-sibling for Sally.



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Chapter 33: Rewards


Ellen was feeling lazy. Even with the benefit of a wet nurse, the first days with her new daughter had been tiring. Fortunately, this morning, she could rest without a bad conscience. Richard had gone very early. He had a seven o'clock meeting with Sir Robert Norton, and he had seen to it that breakfast was served for Ellen in bed. The newspapers were strewn over the bed cover, too. Three of them carried the announcement, and that was why Richard had brought them into the bedroom for Ellen to peruse.

"Born. Siobhan Lucy Rebecca Carter, first daughter of Richard Carter, 3rd Baron Lambert, and his wife, Ellen Wilkes Carter. We are given to understand that the child is healthy and growing and expect Lady Lambert to recuperate quickly."

Siobhan Lucy Carter! That name would cause some raised eyebrows. A Celtic name for the daughter of a Peer of England!

Ellen's heart swelled a little. After the birth, when she fed the little girl for the first time, and before the wet nurse took over, she had asked Richard to have her birth mother's name included in the given names of their new daughter. She had suggested the names Lucy Harriet Siobhan. When they asked the grandmothers, though, Harriet had been very firm in refusing to lend her name to her first granddaughter.

"The first daughter should be named after the maternal grandmother. Since I'm confident that you will give me more than one granddaughter, I will patiently wait my turn."

Thus, 'Harriet' was dropped. They settled on naming their daughter Lucy Siobhan. Then, Lucy objected.

"Ellen, your real mother gave birth to you, raised you, and cared for you. Compared with her, I played a limited role only. Please reconsider. Name the girl after her true grandmother and put my name in second place where it belongs."

"But you are my true mother, Lucy," Ellen had protested.

"I wish I were, and I am proud of my role in your upbringing," Lucy had smiled. "Be that is it may, I insist."

Thus, the little girl was baptised Siobhan Lucy Rebecca Carter. Lucy served as godmother, together with Rebecca York, Ellen's friend from Calcutta. Ellen had still been quite weak during the ceremony, but now, a day later, she was resting comfortably and waiting for what the day would bring her.

First, the day brought a visit by Eleanor. The two young women had rebuilt their relationship after Ellen's long absence, and they had the easy friendship again that had given them so much comfort. Of course, their main subject of talk were their children. Enrique, as Eleanor called the boy, was teething and a terror for the wetnurse. Of course, Ellen could relate to that story, and she was grateful that Little Anthony was past those problems.

Little Anthony was two-and-a-half years old, and he was fully weaned for almost a year. He was wearing pants already, and he spent his days running through the house with Ricky. The dog did what it was bred to do. It kept Little Tony out of harm's way. Several times a day, Ricky's bark alarmed Ellen and the maids over some imprudent, adventurous enterprise the boy was about to undertake. Such as nearing the front door, or trying to climb a steep staircase unassisted. Eleanor marvelled at the bond between the child and the dog, and she contemplated jokingly to get a dog herself.

Meanwhile, Ellen let her mind wander, with Eleanors voice as a comforting background.

Richard had promised to be back in an hour. Following the interview with Sir Robert, he was meeting an Italian duke who wanted to invest some of his fortune in profitable enterprises and would not speak to mere bank clerks. It had to be Lord Lambert with whom he wanted to discuss business.

That was something Richard had not anticipated. Many British and foreign nobles were not averse to investing their money in modern enterprises, but the traditional bank houses and typical entrepreneurs were not to their tastes. They wanted one of their own to advise them, and thus, Richard found himself more involved with his new bank than he had planned. The new bank was chartered under the name of Lambert & Norton. Antonio was holding shares, too, but he preferred to be a silent partner. Nevertheless, Antonio was an invaluable asset, for he was the go-between for the South American aristocrats and even some Spanish nobles who had no trust in the Spanish monarchy.

A week ago, Richard had been able to complete the financing for three new steamships, to be built for the expanding Peninsular & Oriental Steamship Company. Over 70.000 Pound Sterling had to be raised, but the new directors of P&O expected healthy returns. China was the new Holy Grail for British merchants, and a regular steam service was planned between Calcutta and Hong Kong.

Silk, china ware, spices, and tea were the main goods, and they gave rise to exorbitant earnings. Sir Robert Norton himself, in spite of his advanced age, began to shift his interests to the Far East.

Now that Ellen would be up and running again, she would have to help Richard on the ballroom front, lining up goodwill and support. There were many functions they had to attend. Richard had been appointed to the Board of Governors of the East India Company. It was a reward for his services, earning him the enormous sum of £3200 a year while taking up only moderate parts of his time. Most importantly, the new position brought him in contact with new clients for the bank. Naturally, during Ellen's pregnancy, she could not host social events to further those contacts, but she was resolved to support Richard's efforts as soon as she was able to.

Another big event was looming. Richard was to become a Knight of the Bath, like his father. George IV had opened the order to civilian servants of the Crown, and Richard would be created Knight Commander for his dedicated service.

King William had also deigned to create Richard's father a Baronet, ostensibly for his role in the Battle of Trafalgar where he had briefly commanded Lord Collingwood's flagship, the Royal Sovereign, and had been instrumental in breaking the Spanish line of battle. Sir Thomas Hardy himself had pushed the issue. The King had kindly waited for Ellen to give birth before this great event in their lives.

Slowly, Ellen returned to the present. An amused Eleanor looked at her.

"You were far away, dear."

"Yes, I'm sorry, Eleanor, darling. I was thinking of Richard's knighthood. I need to get in better shape quickly."

Eleanor regarded her with an amused smile. She knew that her sister in law was proud of her appearance.

"Don't worry, Ellen. With that décolletage, you'll make the King drool, regardless of whether you still have a few extra pounds on your waist."

Ellen looked down with a woeful expression.

"I look like a cow," she complained. "I wasn't that big when Anthony was born."

Eleanor laughed brightly, causing Ellen to furrow her brows.

"Ellen, my dearest girl, nobody would liken you to a cow, believe me! You are still your gorgeous self. Once you have recovered enough, we can ride out in the park again. That should do you a world of good."

-------

As it turned out, Ellen had over seven weeks to recuperate. Little Siobhan was healthy and growing and, due to the fact that Ellen shared the burden of feeding with the new wet nurse, Ellen was already losing some of the extra pounds.

She began with horse back riding again, in the parks, sometimes with Eleanor and almost always with Maddalena. The Italian girl had developed a love for horses. Seeing the black-curled beauty on her horse, her cheeks red with excitement, and her trim body encased in a tight fitting riding dress gave Ellen additional motivation to regain her own slender figure. Maddalena spoke English with much less of an accent now, and often, young gentlemen found reasons to acquaint themselves to Ellen and her protégé.

Ellen still did not fit into her old dresses, but that was a small problem that a visit to Elisabeth Wilson's fashion house could easily solve. The new, light blue dress accentuated Ellen's more womanly figure, and even Ellen herself could not find anything wrong with her appearance.

Thus came the solemn ceremony at St. James Palace, and the entire Carter clan was present. Anthony Carter was created a Baronet, accompanied by a few kind words from the King. Immediately afterwards, Richard knelt before King William who could not help but comment that he had never, in a single day, bestowed honours on a father and his son.

Old Lady Lambert attended, too. The birth of her first great-granddaughter had been good for her, as was the opportunity to play with her two great-grandsons. The King, obviously pleased to see his old friend well, asked her forward to speak a few words in private to her. Ellen could not understand what they talked about, but she saw the King and Old Lady Lambert look at her repeatedly.

When the function ended, His Majesty's private secretary approached Ellen.

"His Majesty asks for a private word with you, milady," he told her under his breath.

After a quick glance at Richard, Ellen followed him.

King William was sitting in a chair in his private study, but he rose to kiss Ellen's hand. Ellen curtseyed with all the grace she could muster.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, my dear Lady Lambert! I already spoke to Eleanor Lambert, and she assured me that you were perfect for the task I have in mind."

"Your Majesty?" Ellen asked, thinking, 'what task?'.

"It's about my niece, the Princess Victoria. It's time she was introduced to the real life. That clergyman is filling her head with nonsense, and her mother, well, let's say she isn't as close to the court as I would prefer."

Ellen remained silent. She had no idea where this was heading.

"I want my niece to meet with real people, from time to time. Young women, like yourself, Lady Lambert, who have seen something of the world."

"But, your Majesty, I am not a good example for a Royal Princess," Ellen objected. "We are considered upstarts, and I caused some scandal in my young years."

"You mean that duel your husband fought? The Binnings trial?" the King chuckled. "Regrettable affairs, no doubt, but no blame attached to you. Lady Lambert, my niece will follow me to the throne. She needs to learn from women who live in the real world. Like you do. You involve yourself in charity, you are well-travelled, and you lead a perfect marriage. What better role model could my niece find? Don't worry, my dear. I do not ask you to be a Lady-in-Waiting. I just want her to meet you from time to time."

"Of course, your Majesty, if this is your wish, I shall be honoured." That was all Ellen could reply.

"Splendid! Let us keep this to ourselves, though, shall we. Of course, your husband has to know, but I don't want to read about this in the Morning Chronicle."

"Certainly, your Majesty," Ellen replied, allowing herself a smile. "Neither would I."

"It is settled then. I shall arrange for the first meeting. My secretary will send you a note."

Once again, the old king kissed her hand, and then, the secretary appeared again and escorted her back to the audience chamber.

She joined the rest of the family, but obviously, Old Lady Lambert had already filled them in, for there were no questions.

There were other, more important news. The First Sea Lord had informed Sir Anthony of his impending appointment to Commander in Chief in the Mediterranean. This was such an honour that he could not decline. It was one of the truly important commands. There was still some piracy going on, originating from the North African coast, and the Ottoman Empire was in steep decline. The power vacuum resulting from this created all sorts of problems, and Their Lordships were of the opinion that a true fighting sailor might be needed.

In that year 1834, there was an alarming number of officers, even in command, who had never seen ship-to-ship action, let alone a fleet engagement. Sir Anthony had fought eight such ship-to-ships, and he was a veteran of Trafalgar to boot. This had quelled all objections.

The Mediterranean Fleet boasted three ships of the line, all of them 74 gun ships, four frigates and a dozen smaller sail. The fleet was based in Gibraltar, where the Commander in Chief had a residence for his use. This would allow Harriet to accompany her husband, something she was eager to do.

All this caused much excitement, and Ellen's announcement that she was to chaperone the Princess Victoria added to that.

-------

In the evening, the family and their friends gathered in the Carters' townhouse for a celebration dinner. It was a joyous affair, and Ellen met many friends of the family again.

The last to arrive were the Palmers, James Palmer, Lord Brougham, and his wife Moira, who, in Ellen's eyes, was still the most stunning woman she had ever seen.

Their children had come, too. The Rt. Hon. James Palmer was twenty-seven now, and Ellen still remembered him from the Midsummer Night celebration on High Matcham, eight years ago. He was still a bachelor, as Ellen knew, and he was rumoured to be 'shy around women' and 'prone to become an old bachelor', euphemisms to describe a homosexual.

He was polite and friendly, though, and congratulated Ellen on the success of her book. He also professed his admiration for Melissa Martin when Ellen introduced them.

She was not prepared though, for his reaction when she presented her protégé, Maddalena.

"Dear James, may I present Maddalena Robert di Castelvero. She is the daughter of the Viceroy of Sardinia and my dear companion. Maddalena, this is the Rt. Hon. James Palmer, son of Lord Brougham."

James Palmer stood, thunderstruck. It took a few seconds before he was able to comprehend Ellen's introduction.

"I am truly enchanted to make your acquaintance, Signorina Maddalena," he managed to say.

"How nice of you to say so," Maddalena answered in her careful English. "Of course, it pleasures me, too, to meet a young gentleman of your standing."

That was the beginning. For the rest of the evening, Ellen could see that James had somehow managed to be Maddalena's table partner. They seemed to talk animatedly, whenever Ellen looked at them.

Of course, Ellen thought, a young man who had grown up as Moira Palmer's son would be mesmerised by Maddalena's dark beauty. Whatever people gossiped about him, he seemed not in the least shy around the young girl.

Maddalena, too, had rarely been so much at ease in the presence of a man. She was very conscious of the stigma that she thought attached to her. She had been used by that Egyptian merchant, her virginity was lost, and according to the ideas she had been brought up with, she was not a fit consort for any man of breeding.

There came a moment of truth, later that evening, when James introduced the girl to his parents. The elder James Palmer was very careful not to show undue appreciation, but Moira was openly admiring of the young Italian girl. A short glance towards her husband, and Lord Brougham steered his son away and into a conversation with Sir Jonathan Wilkes. Moira had a chance to talk to the girl in private.

"I have heard of the beautiful Italian princess who lived with Ellen, but the rumours do not do you justice."

Maddalena blushed.

"You are far too kind, milady. I am nothing but a fugitive here, hiding from my father's contempt."

"Why, my dear? Whatever has happened to a girl as young as you are?"

"I may as well tell you, milady. Your son is very friendly to me, and I would hate for him to paint a wrong picture of me. I can only disappoint him. My brother and I were travelling to Sardinia to visit our father, when the ship we travelled in was captured by Algerian pirates. We were sold into slavery. We came into the possession of a wealthy Egyptian merchant. I fought him with all my strength for weeks. Then he threatened to mutilate my little brother if I did not give in to his wishes. What could I do? I sacrificed my honour to keep my brother alive."

"Oh, you poor girl!" Moira whispered, moved to tears. "What happened?"

"My brother was very angry at our owner for hurting me. He swore revenge. Our owner then announced that he would make Ettore his eunuch. That night, I stabbed the guard with a shard from a mirror, and we fled. Ellen... Lady Lambert found us when we were hiding near the Great Pyramid, and she and Lord Lambert helped us escape. My brother returned to my father, but I could not. He would have forced me to join a convent, ruined as I am."

Moira Palmer looked at the girl. For a few seconds, the memory of her own violation at the hands of Rupert Palmer, a lifetime ago, was at the forefront of her thinking. She willed those thoughts away. Whatever the late Rupert Palmer had done, without his vile act, she would have never met the wonderful man, his brother, whom she called her husband now. Perhaps the pain and humiliation Rupert caused were the price for the happiness she found with his brother.

"Maddalena, thank you for telling me this. You should know that I had a similar experience in my youth. I too, considered myself ruined. First, my father and my friends helped me. Then, I met my husband. He knew what had happened. Yet, he gave me his love and his hand. You too, will meet a man like him, if you keep your heart open for love."

"Your husband married you, knowing... This is a wonderful country! At home, a girl like me is hidden in a convent, and shamed."

"I don't know about this country, Maddalena. I only know about my husband; and yes, he is wonderful," Moira said with conviction. "And James is his son."

Maddalena blushed.

"Even so, I should speak openly to him, lest he will find himself in an embarrassing position," she insisted.

"But not tonight, my dear!" Moira Palmer answered cheerfully. "Tonight is a festive occasion for our hosts, and we should all strive to enjoy ourselves. Would you be so kind as to join us for tea, tomorrow? I'm sure, Ellen will not object. My coach could pick you up at three. Please?"

Maddalena nodded.

"This is very kind of you, Lady Broughton. Of course, I would not be so discourteous as to decline such a kind invitation."

Moira gave a start. A lifetime ago, she had answered very similarly when Harriet had asked whether she minded the visits of James Palmer. That was when Moira lived in Harriet's household, after Harriet's husband, the foul Rupert Palmer, had died at the hands of Moira's father. James Palmer, the unlikely brother of the dead rascal, had come to offer his assistance and friendship to Harriet (see In The Navy, Chapter 9). It had all happened in this very house, almost thirty years ago. Now, she and James had been happily married for twenty-eight years. She swallowed, feeling touched by fate. With an effort, she hid the emotion in her voice.

"Splendid, my dear. Now I suggest we enjoy ourselves again. Here comes James, to claim you back."

Moira added that last sentence with an encouraging smile. Indeed, James Palmer seemed so happy at seeing her, that Maddalena's misgivings evaporated. She took his proffered arm, and they circled the room together, speaking with new acquaintances and even dancing a waltz together.



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Chapter 34: The Royal Princess

It was a week later. Ellen sat in her coach, heading towards Kensington Palace, the seat of the Duchess of Kent, the Princess Victoria of Sachse-Coburg-Saalfeld. She was the widow of Edward, Duke of Kent and Strathearne, the fourth son of King George III. Their sole offspring, Alexandrina Victoria, styled Princess Victoria of Kent, was heir apparent to King William. Ellen was about to meet the fifteen year-old Princess at the behest of the King.

The reception was frosty. The Duchess spoke little English, and she made no effort to hide her disdain at seeing the upstart woman who, on the insistence of the King, was to tutor her daughter in worldly matters. Her daughter, who, so far, had led a sheltered and secluded life, educated by her governess and the Reverend Davys.

The Baroness Lehzen, the governess, was present when Ellen met the young Princess. Smallish, shy, nervous; those were the adjectives that came to Ellen's mind when she curtseyed before the child. The Duchess excused herself, and Ellen, the governess and the young Princess were left to themselves. Even in the few moments, Ellen noticed a particular lack of warmth between mother and daughter.

"My Uncle tells me that you can advise me?" the child asked.

Ellen smiled, a self-deprecating smile.

"Only insofar as my own, limited knowledge will suffice, Your Highness," she answered.

"You have been to India though, haven't you?"

"Yes, indeed, Your Highness. What do you wish to know?"

"We shall have tea," the girl said.

The governess pointed at the table. She and Ellen both waited until the girl was seated, before they sat themselves, assisted by footmen.

"I have studied my globe," the Princess started the conversation again. "India is very far away. How long did you travel?"

"The journey to India took us over eight months, Your Highness. It takes that long, sailing all the way around Africa, and across the Indian Ocean. The return journey was shorter, since we tried the new Overland Route."

"Will you show me on the globe, Lady Lambert?" the Princess asked eagerly.

Together they stood before the globe. Ellen needed a few moments to get her bearings. Then she pointed out the course of the outward journey, via St. Helena, and around the Cape of Good Hope. The Princess asked some questions, mostly about the conditions on board the ships.

Next, Ellen showed the girl the 'Overland Route'. Again, the future queen asked questions, questions that indeed bespoke her lack of knowledge of geography and foreign policy. Ellen was secretly appalled that the future queen had not been taught the basic knowledge that she would need as monarch. She had the feeling that the girl was acutely aware of her own shortcomings. She decided to dangle a bait before the young princess' nose.

"Of course, Your Highness, I am not as knowledgeable in these matters as my father in law, or even my husband. If you were to visit me, I could arrange for you to interview them, before my father in law will assume the command of the Mediterranean Fleet."

"Your father in law is... ?" the girl asked, as Ellen had expected.

"Vice-Admiral Sir Anthony Carter. You will find him very knowledgeable of all matters of trade, too. My husband is on the Board of Governors of the East India Company, and he used to serve at the Foreign Office. He should also be able to answer your questions."

"I shall ask my mother," the girl replied, obviously interested.

"Are there other persons that you would like to meet, Your Highness?"

"My Uncle, the King, told me that you befriend Miss McAllister, the writer. Is that true?" the Princess whispered shyly.

Colleen had just published her third book, an account of the Bounty mutiny. Vice-Adm. William Bligh had been dead for a while, and it was possible now to tell the story without embarrassing any survivors. Melissa's book was the current talk of the salons.

"I can certainly arrange for you to meet her, Your Highness. Why not command her to Kensington Palace? I am positive that she would feel honoured."

The girl blushed.

"My mother has no love for English writers," she whispered.

"Oh," Ellen said. "I can arrange for Your Highness to meet her, provided His Majesty approves. I shall ask his Private Secretary."

The young princess then proceeded to ask Ellen about her own upbringing. Ellen was candid about her youth as an orphan, and her year as a shepherdess. She noticed that the Princess had no concept of the living conditions of her future subjects either. This was something she would remedy, if she had a chance. She knew the perfect tutor, too: Lucy. Even more than Ellen, Lucy knew the hardships encountered by the vast majority of people in England, both from her own youth and from her work in the hospitals.

When Ellen left Kensington Palace, a half hour later, the Princess had eagerly asked her to expedite the visit to Lambert House. On the way home, Ellen contemplated if she was doing more than King William expected of her. She shrugged. There was only one way to find out. She would write a letter to his Private Secretary and ask for directions.

-------

The message she received from the Private Secretary was not as clear cut as Ellen had wished. Nevertheless, she was encouraged to proceed with her plans.

In response to the written invitation she had sent to Kensington Palace, Ellen received a visit from a Major Hemmings, of the Guards, who came to inspect Lambert House in preparation of the Princess' visit. With an amused smile, Ellen watched the Major as he knocked on walls, to search for secret doors. When he had satisfied himself that the house was free of dangers, he announced the procedures for the royal visits.

Over the next weeks, the young princess visited Lambert House several times, and Ellen made sure that she met the people who could sate the future queen's hunger for information.

Lucy had the most lasting effect. Ellen's stepmother had no qualms whatsoever to use the time with the future monarch to press her own agenda, health care for the poor people. She even convinced the Baroness Lehzen of the advisability of a royal visit to Jonathan Wilkes' hospital. Of course, the large rooms were scrubbed meticulously, the bed-linen were shiny white, but the patients and their histories were very real.

As Lucy had noticed immediately, the young princess had a kind heart, and the sight of sick children and women touched her. Spontaneously, she offered to support the hospital charity and to serve as figurehead. Thus began the over sixty yearlong tenure of the future Queen Victoria as figurehead of numerous charities. Both Lucy and Ellen felt exhilarated. They had managed to bring the Princess in touch with her future subjects.

On other fronts, the Princess spent an animated two hours in conversation with Colleen McAllister and Melissa Martin. Both were well known fixtures in London's society, and since neither of them, by inclination, were apt to affairs with the gentlemen in the salons, the ladies who ruled London's social life loved to include them in their functions. Thus, both young women had become seasoned tea room dwellers. Before she left that day, Melissa delighted the Princess with a charcoal sketch that she had prepared during the afternoon.

The meeting with Ellen's father in law, Sir Anthony Carter, never came to pass. Anthony and Harriet Carter left for the Mediterranean in early May, after a hastily arranged farewell party. Harriet had taken her daughter in law aside, and in earnest tone, asked her to take care of the family in any emergencies.

Ellen knew what Harriet meant. Old Lady Lambert was still frail, although she had recuperated over the past year. Harriet knew very well that she might not see her mother again. The farewell between mother and daughter was a moving one that left Ellen full of apprehension.

Even with the Carters gone, life at Lambert House remained lively. The frequency of James Palmer's visits increased over the weeks and months, until Ellen saw him almost daily. The effect of his attention on Maddalena was striking. The young woman who had always had a sad aura surrounding her, blossomed in James Palmer's presence. She awaited his visits with as much eagerness as her suitor, if not more.

Many an afternoon, Maddalena and James sat alone in Melissa's former makeshift atelier. James was somewhat of an artist himself, stemming from his interest in Roman and Greek artefacts. His obsession with the beauty of Italy and Greece was only surpassed by his increasing obsession with that living example of Italian beauty, Maddalena. James sketched Maddalena numerous times.

As their friendship progressed, Maddalena opened up to James. When he, one afternoon, merged Maddalena's head with a sketch of a Venus statue, Maddalena shyly offered to pose in a Roman garb. Of course, propriety dictated the presence of a chaperone. Asked by Maddalena, Melissa Martin agreed to supervise those sessions. Before either of them noticed, James and Melissa were both busy sketching, enchanted by the vision of a Venus reincarnate.

Then, in August of the same year, Ellen was alerted to a visitor one afternoon. The visiting card handed to her by the old butler was impressive, with a crown and the coat of arms of the House Savoy. She received the visitor immediately. He was a small man, but erect, with a clear cut, beautiful face. Ellen blushed slightly. She had rarely seen a better example of male beauty.

"Guiseppe-Maria Robert, Conte di Castelvero, Signora," the man introduced himself.

"Ellen Wilkes Carter, Baroness Lambert," Ellen answered politely. "To what do we owe the honour of your Grace's visit?"

"I have received information that my only daughter is living under your protection, Milady," he replied in fairly flawless English.

She nodded gracefully and was met with a look of appreciation from the Count's eyes.

"That is indeed true, your Grace. Maddalena is my dear friend, and she lives in our household as our honoured guest. I presume that you will want to interview her?"

"This is indeed the main purpose of my visit, although I must admit that meeting you, Lady Lambert, makes my being here worthwhile already."

He was indeed a seasoned flatterer, Ellen realised with an inward smile. Well, the last man of that category was now tamed and married to Doña Maria!

"I regret to say that Maddalena is currently visiting with Lady Broughton. I expect her back in an hour, though. Would you deign to accept my invitation for a refreshment?"

"Nothing would please me more," the count answered graciously.

"Let me arrange for tea then," Ellen replied nicely. "Please excuse me for a moment."

Outside the reception room, Ellen sprang into action. She wrote two billets and charged Neeta and Sadie to deliver them to Lambert&Norton and to Broughton House. She wanted Richard there, to add his weight into any argument that might break out; and she wanted to give Maddalena fair warning.

She spent the next hour, entertaining her visitor. Of course, he wanted to know about the circumstances under which his daughter lived with the Carters. Ellen assured him that Maddalena was a friend to her and that she considered her presence as a favour.

Alerted to the visit, Old Lady Lambert appeared, too. The Count bowed politely to her, complimenting her with all the ingrained continental courtesy. The old woman took the bull by the horns.

"I hope you will excuse an old woman if she does not have the patience for idle talk anymore, nor for flattering lies. I have come to know your daughter quite well over the past year, and she has become very dear to us all. She accompanied my grandson and his wife, out of the fear that her fate would be a monastery if she returned to her home. Can you tell me whether her fear was well founded?"

The Count turned a little pale under Eleanor Lambert's scrutinising stare and shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He straightened himself though when he answered.

"I fear this is what I would be forced to do, I am ashamed to say. The custom of my home country dictates that a woman or girl unfortunate enough to lose her honour can only find refuge and forgiveness in a monasterial order. Let me also explain that I would be most distressed if my daughter choose to return to Sardinia. The reason for my visit is another one. I wanted to assure myself of her well-being and take steps to provide her with the means to secure her livelihood."

"A dowry could indeed prove helpful," Eleanor Lambert remarked with a benevolent smile.

The Count forgot his countenance momentarily, jumping from his chair.

"Are you implying... ?"

"Yes, my dear Count. Your daughter has, over the last months, and under proper supervision I may add, grown fond of a young gentleman of excellent prospects, and I dare say that the feelings are mutual. His parents, too, have taken quite a liking to your daughter, and if the issue of a dowry could be resolved in some manner, your daughter may indeed find the happiness she so richly deserves."

"This, err, young gentleman knows of the reasons that occasioned her refusal to return home?"

"He knows of them, and he does not think less of her for sacrificing herself for her brother's life," Ellen interposed. "For all his prospects, he is a rather shy young gentleman. Your daughter is the first woman that he has ever taken a serious interest in. They seem to be quite the match."

"Has he... proposed in any form yet?" the Count asked cautiously.

"They are not progressed that far yet. He visits regularly, and they spent long hours discussing books and art. I must really congratulate you on the excellent education your daughter has received."

The Count bowed to that, obviously pleased.

"There was no reason why Ettore's teachers could not enlighten Maddalena as well," he offered by way of explanation.

The sounds of a coach drawing up to the house could be heard. A few minutes later, Maddalena stood in the door to the reception room. She had not come alone, though. Behind her, Ellen could see young James Palmer and his mother, Lady Broughton. With an inward smile, Ellen registered that Moira Palmer was dressed to perfection, with her splendid raven hair cascading over her shoulders.

Maddalena, too, must have been at the receiving end of a hair dresser's efforts. She looked nothing but breathtaking in the lavender dress from Elisabeth Wilson.

'She has matured so much!' Ellen thought.

Indeed, the slender black haired girl had undergone the transformation into budding womanhood over the last year. The way she filled her dress left little doubt of that. From the way the Count gaped at his daughter, it was clear that he was not prepared to see his daughter all grown up. There was more, however.

"Serafina!" he gasped with a hollow voice. With a violent effort, he regained his composure. "I am most sorry. I did not expect my daughter to be grown up. I only remembered her as a girl, and now, she is a woman. Maddalena, you look like your mother!"

Maddalena smiled shyly.

"Father? Will you allow me to hug you, even if... ?"

With two long steps, the Count covered the distance, and the two joined in a violent hug.

"Maddalena, mia figlia!"

"Papà!"

More hugs followed, and Maddalena's tears flowed freely while father and daughter went through a rapid exchange in Italian that nobody else could follow.

With an effort, Maddalena tore herself from her father's embrace.

"Papà, I want you to meet my friends. Lady Broughton, my father, the Conte di Castelvero. Father, this is Lady Broughton."

The Count bowed deeply to Moira who curtseyed in response.

"Father, this is the Right Honourable James Palmer, Lady Broughton's eldest son. James, my father, the Conte di Castelvero."

Both men bowed politely.

"Father, James came with me to speak to you, and his mother accompanied him to show that he has his family's full support."

James Palmer nodded vigourously.

"Don Guiseppe, over the past half year, I have met your daughter on many occasions, and she has become a frequent visitor at my parents' home. I care deeply for her, and nothing would make me more happy than to have her as my wedded wife. I am the heir to my father's title, and I receive a steady income from lands that I inherited. You will find that I am well able to support your daughter in the style she can expect. I ask you, therefore, for your daughter's hand in marriage."

Maddalena cast a worried look at her father's face, and Ellen looked at him intently. She saw mixed emotions. There was a mental struggle, to be sure. The Count cleared his throat.

"My dear Mr. Palmer, you will appreciate that I am quite unprepared for this proposal. I came to visit my daughter and make sure that she is not lacking in worldly goods. I also came to assure her of my continued fatherly affection and love.

"I take it that you are aware of the... captivity my daughter had to endure?"

James nodded.

"It cannot not change the deep affection that I feel," he answered calmly.

Moira Palmer nodded to this.

"Maddalena is not to blame for any of the things that have happened to her. In my opinion, she behaved very bravely and nobly. I could wish for no better wife for my son."

The Count looked at Ellen for help. She simply shrugged her shoulders and gave him her most dazzling smile. The Count melted. He reached out and held his daughter by her shoulders.

"Maddalena, carissima figlia, is this what you want?"

"Father, yes! James will make me a happy woman. I know it!"

"But he's not of the faith!"

Maddalena's eyes changed into black stones.

"A faith that condemns me for the violence inflicted on me is not my faith anymore. I have already received instructions from a priest of the Church of England. I am sorry, Father, but I will not spend my life locked away for something I had no choice in."

The Count looked pained for a brief moment, but then his shoulders relaxed. He had a concern, though.

"What can I tell Ettore, what can I tell your grandparents?"

"Bring Ettore my love, Father. He will always be my brother, and I will always be there for him. He loves me too, Father. He felt so guilty for what I had to do to save him. Tell him that the Lord works wonderful things, and that I found enough love to more than compensate for all the bad that happened. Tell him to forget the guilt. I am happy."

"It must be God's will that our children met, Count," Moira said persuasively. "Even the slavers were tools of His will. How can we, mere mortals, question His work?"

The Count looked at her sceptically, and Ellen realised that the question of religion was not one of high priority for him. He seemed to have reached a conclusion, nonetheless.

"Maddalena, here, in the presence of your friends, I give you my blessing and love. I shall sit with this young gentleman's father, and we shall settle all those details fathers have to discuss when their children want to marry.

"Understand, however, that at home, I shall have to renounce you and disown you. There is no other way, or Ettore will lose all chances of a future."

"I understand that, Father. I am happy as long as you give me your private blessing."

"That I do, figlia mia."

"Perhaps, your Grace will find it convenient to join us for dinner tonight?" Ellen suggested. "I am positive that Lord and Lady Broughton would be delighted to join us as well. My husband will feel honoured by your presence, I am sure."

The Count smiled back at Ellen.

"It will be my pleasure, Lady Lambert."

-------

The next afternoon, while Lambert House was still buzzing with the sudden turn of Maddalena's fortune, Ellen had to host another tea with the Princess. Today's guests were Mary Somerville, astronomer and mathematician, and her protégé, Ada Byron. Ada was of the same age as the Princess and the only legitimate offspring of Lord Byron, the famous poet.

The tea was a success. This was mostly owned to Mary Somerville's fascinating ability to make science understandable. An autodidact herself, she had no use for Latin words and the pompous language of her fellow scientists. When all her guests had left, Ellen mused that she had spent two hours in the presence of the most brilliant woman in England.

The Princess had clearly been impressed, too. Before she left, when Ellen addressed her as 'Your Highness' again, she asked Ellen in a whisper to call her 'Vicky' when they were alone.

Ellen felt slightly dazed afterwards. To be on a nick name basis with the future monarch was quite an ascent for the daughter of a lowly major from a dubious, disbanded regiment.

Nevertheless, Ellen's growing intimacy with the Princess Vistoria was noted by the powers that be, in particular by Lord Melbourne, the new prime minister. They met at a soiree in Lady Wheeler's house, seemingly by chance. However, Ellen felt at once that the head of the government felt the need to speak to her.

"Ah, Lady Lambert, your servant! I haven't been able yet to congratulate you on the birth of your daughter. And already, you are busy again!"

Ellen tilted her head, indicating her question.

"The introduction of Her Royal Highness into the real world. The King has of course informed me of the task he allotted to you. The Lehzen woman tells me you are getting along with the girl?"

"Yes, indeed," Ellen smiled. "I have been trying to expose the Princess to issues of everyday life and the sciences, and she has shown an astounding interest."

"She'll make a fabulous queen," Melbourne confirmed. "It would not be fair to leave you in the dark, though. There is much jealousy. People resent you for having the ear of the Princess."

"People?"

"Well, by rights, it should be the wives and daughters of the cabinet ministers who will be ladies-in-waiting, once the Princess will ascend to the throne. They fear your influence, Lady Lambert."

"I assure you that I have no interest to usurp a position that is not mine by rights," Ellen responded, unsure where the conversation was leading.

Melbourne lifted his hands.

"I do know that, Lady Lambert."

"Perhaps, if I invited those ladies to my parlour so that her Royal Highness can acquaint herself with her future courtiers?"

Melbourne beamed at her.

"A splendid idea! Splendid! I was also thinking to give you a graceful exit from your assignment. As you so candidly admitted, you do not aim to be a courtier. It would be unwise to let the Princess get unnecessarily attached to your person."

"There is not much I can do if Her Highness commands me to St. James."

"True, very true. However, if, and I speak merely hypothetically, if you and your husband were away from London, perhaps on important affairs of the state?"

"That would depend on how important those affairs really are, wouldn't it?" Ellen answered, surprised at herself. She was indeed bartering with the prime minister!

"You are acquainted with his Majesty, King Ludwig of Bavaria?"

Ellen nodded, smiling.

"My husband and I met him at a soiree in Marjorie Binnings' house. That was before she... developed her inexplicable hatred for me. We were invited at the embassy the next evening and were presented to the Queen, too."

"Colossal! The post at the embassy in Munich is currently vacant. Old Fenemoore had to abandon it. The gout; poor fellow! I think the good services that you and your husband have rendered the crown should merit some recognition, shouldn't they?"

"If you say so, I am sure that my husband will be very pleased by such an offer."

"Perhaps, he need not know too much of this conversation? He should be more pleased thinking that he owed his appointment to himself alone."

Ellen shook her head, now.

"My Lord Melbourne, I never hide anything from my husband. Knowing him as I do, he will be delighted of the distinction. I assume that the post is no sinecure, and you would not appoint him, were you not sure of my husband's abilities."

"My apologies, Madam. Of course, if you confide in each other to this degree, you should share our conversation with him. I shall ask him for an interview these next days. This should develop into a mutually satisfying solution. His new bank house is coming along nicely, I trust?"

"Smashingly!" Ellen answered, with an inward giggle at the fact that she was parroting the prime minister's pompous speech.

"York speaks highly of his diplomatic skills. Bavaria is becoming the second power in Germany. It's important we don't leave them out of our efforts. We need a skilled man there."

"Thank you," Ellen answered nicely, rewarding him with her patented, dazzling smile.

Flushing slightly, Lord Melbourne excused himself, leaving a very smug Ellen. She could not wait to tell Richard. Richard Lord Lambert, British Ambassador to the King of Bavaria! She recalled what Richard had once told her of a conversation with his grandfather. The old admiral had warned him that a beautiful but naive wife could ruin a man. However, a beautiful and wise wife was an invaluable asset, the admiral had laughed, citing himself and Old Lady Lambert as example.

Ellen felt that getting Richard appointed as ambassador finally put her in the beautiful and wise category.



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Chapter 35: A River Journey


Travelling up the River Rhine was slow work. The boat was pulled by no less than eight horses. Still, the progress made against the strong current of the river was slow. And this was a swift passenger boat!

The lower parts of the river had been much less of a problem. The party had crossed the Channel from London and arrived at Katwijk, Holland, the next day. Here, one of the arms of the River Rhine emptied into the North Sea.

A first leg by river boat had taken them to Arnheim. From there, a different boat had taken them upriver, all the way to Cologne. The famous cathedral of Cologne was off-limits to Protestants, but at least they could view it from the outside.

Further upriver, at Koblenz, the River Moselle joined the River Rhine. Upstream of that point, the wild and narrow rift valley of the Middle Rhine began. The river was narrow, and a strong current hampered their progress.

Travelling by river was slow, but comfortable for the family and their party. Richard, Ellen, and their two children travelled with four servants, Neeta, Sadie, the wet nurse, Mrs. Painter, and a manservant, Hoggins.

They were accompanied by the Right Honourable James Palmer and his young wife, Maddalena. The reputation of Munich as a centre of the fine arts had spread over Europe, and James was eager to find out the truth. So eager, that he had volunteered as private secretary for Richard. For Ellen, having Maddalena or Maddie, as they called her, with her, was a stroke of luck.

Two more companions were travelling with them. Colleen McAllister and Melissa Martin had begged to be included in the entourage. While Colleen was simply eager to travel, Melissa wanted to meet some of the most eminent artists of the time who, rumour had it, had been lured to Munich by a liberal and generous King.

They had the boat to themselves, travelling the fifty miles from Koblenz to Mainz. Three men worked the boat, and another two drove the horses. The keeled boat made good way through the water as attested by its wake. With the swift current, however, the horses had to strain to make headway on the towpath.

Now, the most narrow and, according to the boat people, most dangerous stretch was coming closer. On the left hand bank, a massive, dark rock rose, seemingly straight out of the river bed, and to a height of more than four-hundred feet. It was the famed rock of Loreley, the mermaid, who according to the lore had been sitting there, combing her golden hair and watching the stream. So beautiful she was that the boatmen gazed up to her and forgot the dangers of the tricky river, their boats foundering in the rapid current. Full of remorse over the many dead boatmen, she plunged herself from the rock and into her death.

The boat master had told the story, and James who possessed decent German, had translated. It was a fairy tale. Nevertheless, Ellen had chosen to cover her own golden hair with a head scarf. She had to grin to herself when she realised her motives, but there was really no need to distract their crew.

The summer sun shone down on the boat as it made its way upstream. A sand bar and flat rocks blocked a part of the river, and the resulting eddies made for tricky navigation. The horses pulling the boat strained against the lines as they cleared this tricky section of the river. The huge river was less than 400 feet wide at this point, and according to the boat men, thirteen fathoms deep, creating a violent current, even in late summer.

The rock also marked a sharp turn in the river. After clearing it, the travellers had a completely new view of the landscape upstream. They had another obstacle in front of them, they knew. The "Binger Loch", the Bingen Hole, had been blasted into the basalt of a traverse ledge that stretched across the entire river. The passage was a mere 45 feet wide and the only way for a boat to cross the ledge.

All in all, it was a spectacular experience, travelling on this vast and wild river. Almost every larger rock on either bank was dominated by some castle or castle ruin. Every petty prince or nobleman had taxed the ships on the river. That was over, thank god. The Treaty of Mainz, of 1831, had brought an end to this impediment of trade. Travel on the river was now free.

Five miles and two hours later, they passed a curious little fortification that sat in the middle of the river on a small sandbar. It was a toll station, built in the fourteenth century by the Emperor Ludwig IV, "The Bavarian".

Approaching it, they saw that it was built like a ship, with a fortified bow against the floating ice of the wintery river.

In the small town of Kaub, on the right bank of the river, the boat landed. The territory belonged to Ludwig I. of Bavaria who was also Palatine of the Rhine. Showing Richard's royal passport did wonders, and in no time, the travellers found comfortable lodgings in a pub.

This was wine growing country, and Richard's party enjoyed a pork roast for dinner, accompanied by a local white wine. They had spent the last two nights in the small and stuffy cabins of the river boat. Sleeping in real beds was a welcome change.

After supper, Little Anthony enjoyed running along the river bank, always under the watchful eyes of Ricky, the sheep dog. Ricky was getting older, and Ellen had not had the heart to leave her dog at home for another long absence. Boat travel was not much to Ricky's liking, but being with "his" family for the entire day seemed to satisfy him deeply.

Colleen and Melissa walked along the river, too. Melissa had brought her sketch book, and she captured the curious little fortress in the river, and the larger castle that overlooked town and river.

James and Maddalena had retired to their room already. Ellen suspected that the young couple wanted to make the most of the privacy of their room. She and Richard strolled along the tow path, keeping a watchful eye on Anthony. They need not have! Whenever the boy came close to the river bank, Ricky interceded, pushing him back with his nose. The ticklish child enjoyed this game; his laughter brought smiles on Ellen's and Richard's faces.

"I dread the day when Ricky will not be there anymore," Ellen sighed. "It will be horrible for Tony."

"He's only nine, he should have a few more years," Richard answered. "You are right, though. Ricky is Tony's best friend. It was a good idea to take him along."

"I just hope Gran will be all right," Ellen sighed again. "I felt bad, leaving her behind. I hope we will see her again."

Richard nodded. Leaving the old lady behind had been hard. She had insisted that she would be fine. After all, Eleanor visited her almost daily, and Harriet would be back from Gibraltar in a year, when Sir Anthony's command would end. Nevertheless, he and Ellen felt a little bit guilty.

"She's a tough woman. You just wait. She'll be there when we'll return, and you can tell her everything. Just make sure that you keep writing your diary."

"Tomorrow is going to be another dangerous stage?"

Richard nodded. "The Bingen Hole. The boat master said that we must alight and walk a short distance along the towpath. Every pound counts when those poor animals have to drag the boat up through the narrow cut."

"I'll be glad of the opportunity to walk," Ellen smiled, her optimistic personality gaining the upper hand again. "Perhaps, we should carry the most important items if that passage is dangerous."

"I'll make sure to carry my Letter of Accreditation and the drafts on the Fugger Bank," Richard smiled. "We should also carry your jewellery and my sword."

Richard still used the sword his father had given him after he had saved Ellen from the Tremonts. A sword smith had redone the hilt, and the sheath was a new one, worthy of a Peer of England. The blade, however, was still the one made by a Kingston sword smith, forty years ago, and showing the marks of more than one fight. The sword held great sentimental value for Richard.

Ricky's barking made them look up. Tony was throwing stones into the river, as far as he could. Poor Ricky was torn between his desire to retrieve the thrown stones and his protective instincts. As a consequence, he ran to and fro between the river bank and the little boy.

"Tony, stop!" Ellen shouted. "Don't make poor Ricky mad."

As with anything concerning the dog, Tony obeyed promptly. Ellen smiled at them. She hoped that this long journey and the planned two year stay in Bavaria would not tax her son too much.

After a short night in the pub, they boarded the boat again, and the horses began their arduous work of pulling the vessel upstream. It was almost five hours later, noontime, when they approached the vast traverse ledge. A gap, less than 50 fifty feet wide had been blasted into the ledge, and the water rushed down almost three feet through the opening. The boat made its way to the right bank of the river and to a little wooden quay. There was a relay station and a pub, and the boat master encouraged the travellers to enjoy lunch, while they prepared for the boat to be pulled up the ledge by no less than five yokes of oxen.

The passengers made use of the offerings of the pub, grateful for the pork roast the publican offered. They watched with interest as the river boat was pulled foot by foot against the swirling water of the rapid. It took five yokes of oxen almost an hour before it was tied securely to a quay upriver from the ledge.

Richard felt it adequate to order food and drink for the boat people, too, and they stayed at the pub for another hour.

With the current much weaker now, the river boat made better way in the afternoon, and it was only six o'clock when they reached Mainz, their next relay.

Mainz was a big town, the former residence of an Elector and Bishop. Now it was a part of Hassia, with a great past and limited functions in the presence. Nevertheless, it was an important trading point, at the confluence of two major German rivers, the Rhine and the Main.

It was up the latter River Main that they had to continue their journey. After they spent the night in a large guest house, Richard and James set out to find transport. They were lucky. A river barge was making ready for a journey up the River Main, and it had passenger accommodations. The distance was almost one-hundred miles as the crow flies, but on the meandering river, it was closer to one-hundred-fifty.

The River Main was not as fast-flowing as the Rhine, especially in late summer, and the boat master promised them to make the journey in five days.

Thus, within two days, they were on their way again. After the first day, they had a chance to sleep on the shore again, in the town of Frankfurt. They were served a local speciality, apple cider, and Ellen went to bed that night, slightly drunk.

Another day on the river saw them in Aschaffenburg, another former residence of a small prince. The castle with its four turrets looked impressive, but the pubs were dismal. They decided to sleep in the boat cabins.

Upstream of Aschaffenburg, the river flew through the deep Spessart forest, a huge wooded area. The next night was spent on the boat, too. The boat master anchored in the middle of the river for the night, for fear of brigands who were still abundant in the wide forest.

Only the fourth night allowed them to sleep ashore again, in the small town of Gemunden, where a smaller river, the River Tauber, joined the River Main. Upon hearing that the boat carried the new British ambassador to King Ludwig's court, the mayor of the town offered his own house for the distinguished travellers.

Here, in this small, walled town, they had the first taste of Franconian wine. The portly mayor was inordinately proud of the wine he grew himself on the south-facing slopes of the river valley. The wine had an earthy, fruity taste, dry, but not unpleasant, Ellen decided. Before they travelled on, the next morning, Richard purchased two cases of the mayor's wine.

It was Melissa, though, who "paid" for their accommodation, by painting a miniature of the mayor's young daughter. Small and showing the promise of portliness too, the girl had a pretty face, nonetheless, and the miniature captured her charms perfectly.



-------

Chapter 36: Marie de Perigneaux


They were now on the last leg of their river journey. They would reach Wuerzburg, the ancient capital of the Franconian duchy, that evening. The mayor had sent a horseman, to alert the royal court in Wuerzburg of their arrival.

King Ludwig's father, the Elector Maximilian, had been an ally of Napoleon early on. When France seized all the territories left of the River Rhine, Napoleon saw fit to compensate his ally with the duchy of Franconia which had been ruled by the Prince-Bishop of Wuerzburg. The Elector Maximilian IV. of Bavaria became King Maximilian I. of Bavaria.

Then, barely in time before Napoleon's downfall, Maximilian changed sides and aligned himself with England and Prussia. This ensured that he kept his possessions after the Vienna Congress.

His son, Ludwig I., saw fit to style himself "King of Bavaria, Duke of Franconia, Palatine of the Rhine, etc.", and he used the Prince-Bishop's splendid Baroque Palace in Wuerzburg as his second royal palace.

What Ellen, Richard, and their entourage saw, when they reached Wuerzburg, was a huge castle, towering over town and river, as well as a forest of church steeples. It seemed like there were dozens of churches in the town.

The boat made fast at a stone quay, under an ancient stone bridge that crossed the river. Four carriages were waiting for them, all bearing the coat of arms of the House Wittelsbach. A stout man wearing an imposing uniform greeted them.

"Your Excellency, Baron Hohenstedt. His Majesty has sent me to receive you and convey you to your temporary quarters."

"Baron Hohenstedt!" Ellen smiled. "How enchanting to meet you again!"

She had met the Baron in the Lake District, years ago, when she had been vacationing with Lucy. The Baron smiled back.

"The Lady Lambert is even more beautiful than Miss Trilby used to be, hard as it is to believe," he answered. "How is your charming mother?"

"She is well, Baron, and I will not fail to write her of our meeting. She will be most delighted."

Richard was not quite at ease with the old courtier who had a way with flattery. He hastened to do the honours.

"May I present the Right Honourable James Palmer and his wife Maddalena? Mr. Palmer is a friend of my family, and he has kindly offered his services as my Private Secretary."

The men bowed, and the women curtseyed. Then it was time for another presentation.

"May I also present two of our dear friends, Miss Colleen McAllister and Miss Melissa Martin? Miss McAllister is one of our most promising young writers, and Miss Martin has established herself as London's most eminent painter."

"His Majesty will be very pleased to hear of this," the Baron assured the young women. "He places much value in the arts."

The Baron eyed Melissa with great appreciation. The comely young woman, having moved in London's society for years now, had developed a self-confident presence that was difficult to miss.

"That is what I heard, Baron, and it was the prospect of meeting the great artists who enjoy his Majesty's favour that compelled me to join Lord Lambert and his wife."

The Baron looked even more intrigued, for when Melissa spoke, there was no way, even for a Bavarian Baron, to mistake her for an Englishwoman.

"Well, I shall convey you to your quarters now. We have taken the liberty to find you rooms in a palais across from the Royal Palace. I trust you will find the accommodations to your liking. I see that you brought your own servants. Pray, let me know if you have need for additional staff."

"We planned to employ a cook and perhaps two chambermaids," Ellen mused. "But perhaps we should wait until we move into our Munich house?"

"No, not at all! I shall see to it that you will have a local woman to cook for you. His Majesty will remain in residence until early September, so this will be a temporary solution only."

"Thank you, Baron. This is very kind of you," Richard interjected. "We are indebted by your thoughtful help."

They climbed into the coaches then while workmen loaded their luggage onto another wagon. The coaches tumbled over the ancient cobble stones of the narrow streets along the river. Next, they saw a four-stream fountain and the medieval city hall. They turned right and had a free view on the imposing cathedral of the city. Right in front of it, they carriage turned right, and after a few more turns, they saw the monumental facade of the baroque Prince-Bishop's palace at the end of the street.

Napoleon had jokingly called it "the World's biggest parsonage" when he spent a night here, and it was indeed huge. The carriage turned right and stopped after one-hundred yards. The house they had stopped in front of was three storeys high and had a baroque facade, too. The paint was fading, but it still looked quite respectable.

Richard and Ellen were shown in, and they immediately saw that it would serve their needs for the six or seven weeks until the royal court would move back to Munich. A young man received them at the entrance.

"This is Arnold, my confidential servant," Baron Hohenstedt explained. "He speaks your language, and he will help you settle in. Myself, I have to attend to my other duties again. There will be an audience hour, tomorrow, at eleven o'clock. Perhaps your Lordship will find it convenient to present your letters then?"

"Certainly, Baron," Richard answered, bowing politely.

"Your Private Secretary, I presume he is what you call a gentleman?"

"He is the oldest son and heir of Lord Brougham," Richard replied.

"Then it would be fitting if he were to accompany you. The ladies will have to wait for a more opportune occasion to be presented to His Majesty."

"Certainly," was all Richard could answer.

Hohenstedt left them, then, and they settled into their new quarters. The bedrooms faced to the back of the house and to a small garden. Ricky immediately usurped this garden as his territory, by marking trees and bushes.

The family had a frugal supper sent from a pub along the street. Arnold saw to that. He also showed Sadie and Neeta where to find linen and beddings for the family. He was a pleasant enough fellow with a roguish sort of look and stubborn blonde hair. It was obvious that Sadie caught his fancy right from the start, and Ellen knew they would see more of him.

After a good night's sleep and a quick breakfast, Richard and James dressed carefully. For the first time, Richard donned sash and star of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath over his coat, and he grinned self-consciously. He also wore his sword and shiny boots. Clearly, the new manservant, Hoggins, was an asset. Whenever possible during the long journey, that worthy had aired and cleaned Richard's clothes and other equipment, and Richard had never looked more resplendent.

Richard and James were back, two hours later. His Majesty had been very friendly, and he tasked Richard with sending his most respectful greetings to Ellen. He was also to convey an invitation. There would be an evening of music in the park behind the palace, mostly music by the late Austrian genius, Mozart. The entire Royal Court would be there, and His Majesty would be pleased to welcome the new ambassador and his suite.

That meant hectic activity for Sadie and Neeta, for Ellen's ball dresses had to be screened, cleaned and pressed. Fortunately, Ellen had regained her former slender figure, giving her an ample selection of dresses to chose from.

She went for a blue and white ensemble, in deference for the colours of the House Wittelsbach. The last hours were spent with Sadie and Neeta who became infected with the excitement. The evening would mean a high point in Ellen's and Richard's social life. As British envoy, Richard ranked highly among the dignitaries present, immediately behind the Russian Tsar's representative. Add to that his youth and Ellen's appearance, and they both expected much attention.

Although the palace was within easy walking distance, Count Hohenstedt had offered a coach for them. Since Ellen's and Maddalena's skirts were of white silk, and the street was dusty, they reluctantly accepted the service. The coach drove through a high gate and right into the stairwell.

The doors of the coach were opened by attendants. Richard and James alighted and helped first Ellen and Maddalena, then Colleen and Melissa to step down without getting caught in their skirts. They ascended the huge stairs. Suddenly, Maddalena gave a gasp.

"Look! The ceiling! It's a huge painting!"

Indeed, when they looked up, they saw that the gigantic stairwell's ceiling was a single, equally gigantic painting.

"Giovanni Batista Tiepolo painted this," Melissa stated in an awed voice. "I've read about it; it's the world's largest fresco. It took three years for him to complete."

Their excited exchange had to stop, though, for at the landing stood a gentleman with the most ornate uniform. He identified himself as His Majesty's High Chamberlain and asked them to follow him into the Great Mirror Hall. Here, they were presented to the King.

His Majesty was delighted to meet Ellen again, as he stated repeatedly while he kissed her hand. He also regarded young Maddalena with much appreciation and professed his delight that the ladies would belong to his court during the next two years.

The King then deigned to introduce the Marchesa Marianna Florenzi, his, as he put it, dearest friend. The Marchesa was a strikingly beautiful woman, Ellen decided, and she pitied the Queen Therese who, rumour had it, had to deal with a steady stream of 'dearest friends' who all happened to be possessed of exquisite beauty. Nevertheless, Ellen felt immediate kinship with the Marchesa.

Although Ellen was quite aware of her own physical attributes, she had no problems to acknowledge the beauty of other women. It was rather, that she was relieved when other women took away some of the attention from herself. It took a second for Ellen to realise that the King was addressing her and Maddalena. With an effort, she pieced his words together from her subconscious memory.

"I hope, your ladyship will allow for my painter, Stiegler, to portray you. I try to collect the portrays of the most beautiful women of our time and assemble them in a temple devoted to feminine beauty and chastity."

Ellen thought for a second to come up with a fitting reply.

"I have heard about your collection, your Majesty. I will not commit myself today. Perhaps, if your Majesty allowed us to view the existing collection... ?"

"It will be my pleasure!" the King answered, unabashedly.

"May I present my two protégés, your Majesty? This is Colleen McAllister. She is a writer of excellent repute. And this is Melissa Martin, one of London's most eminent painters."

"Melissa Martin!" the King expostulated. "I have seen her painting of Anita Heyworth. Melissa Martin here at my court! What a wonderful news!"

He kissed a flustered Melissa's hand, and then, remembering his manners, addressed Colleen.

"Please don't think me rude, Miss McAllister. I am not yet acquainted with your works. I am grateful for your visit, nonetheless. Do you write poems or prose?"

"I started with poems, your Majesty, but people seem to appreciate my adventure and travel stories more."

"Will you be writing about your visit here?"

"Lady Lambert asked me along for that purpose, your Majesty."

"Then I must make sure that you will see only the best of my dominions!" the King laughed, good-naturedly.

A chamberlain then announced that the music was about to start, and the King offered his arm to the Marchesa. With the Italian beauty at his side, he led the group down the magnificent stairs and into the baroque garden.

A large number of courtiers and other visitors had already assembled, and they all lined the garden path. The King greeted several of them, stopping and forcing the Carters and their party to stand and wait.

"There's the Imperial Russian ambassador," Richard advised Ellen, from the corner of his mouth.

Ellen saw a smallish man in a white uniform. He made no effort to hide the fact the he, the representative of the Tsar Of All The Russians, was above this little provincial affair. The King addressed him at this moment.

"Prince Wassilij, may I present the new ambassador of his Britannic Majesty, Richard Lord Lambert and his charming wife? Lord Lambert, please meet the senior ambassador at my court, Prince Wassilij Woronin, and his wife, the Princess Besuchova."

They bowed and curtseyed each other, and then, the Carters could take up their proper position, behind the Prince. The Princess, Ellen found, was even more arrogant than her husband. When Ellen politely expressed her expectation that they would soon get to know each other better, the woman just looked her up and down, without answer.

With a sardonic grin, Ellen shrugged and turned her back to the Princess.

"She's a cousin of the Tsar," Richard whispered, having noticed the interplay. "Even King Ludwig is probably below her, in her view."

"I'll just ignore her," Ellen whispered back. Then, as an afterthought, she smiled. "It's her loss. I could have given a few hints concerning clothes and make-up."

It was true, Ellen thought. What the Princess was wearing was certainly outrageously expensive. The cut of the dress, though, made her look outright fat, especially in contrast to her small and wiry husband, and her make-up would have been more appropriate for an ageing actress.

Turning to their right, they acquainted themselves with the French representative. Lucien, Conte de Perigneaux, was the opposite of arrogant. He looked roguish, with a patch over his right eye, and an aquiline nose, but he was charming in the extreme. His wife, however, made Ellen gasp. She stood as tall as Ellen, had blonde hair like her and an obviously well-formed body. Not only that, but her face had strikingly similar features. Her skin was slightly paler, the blue of her eyes lighter, but the two women could easily pass for sisters.

"We 'ad better be careful, mon ami, zat we don't take 'ome ze wrong woman, eh?" the Conte joked, but Ellen could see that he was intrigued.

"The likeness is uncanny," Richard admitted with a short laugh. "Madame, you would not be descended from Irish gentry?"

"But I am!" Marie de Perigneaux exclaimed. "My great-grandfazzer, 'e emigrated to France. Malcolm O'Shaunessy was 'is name. 'e supported ze Prince Charles of Scotland, and 'e 'ad to flee. 'e became a general in ze French army, and King Louis made him Chevalier."

Ellen turned pale.

"My mother's name was O'Shaunessy. Siobhan O'Shaunessy, from Ballycastle. Her grandfather was Michael O'Shaunessy."

"Mon dieu! 'e was my great-grandfazzer's brozzer. We are cousins!"

The rush of emotion Ellen experienced took her breath away. She had always thought that she had lost her last blood relation when her mother died, and now, of all places, she found a distant cousin at the Bavarian Court. Ellen looked around self-consciously. Perhaps, this was not the time or place to show great emotions. Marie nodded with a sad smile.

"We better not," she smiled sadly. "Come and visit me, tomorrow! Zen we can talk. Do you 'ave children?"

Ellen nodded. "A boy and a girl."

"Oh, zis is wonderful! I don't 'ave children yet."

Her husband took the opportunity to shanghai a servant who carried a tray with filled wine glasses. When they all held glasses, he grinned and toasted the women.

"Zis is a most fortunate and delightful coincidence, ne c'est pa? To the most beautiful pair of cousins known to man!"

Fortunately, the music began now, and the people in the garden started to mill around. This allowed Ellen and Marie to retreat towards the perimeter and have a private conversation. For the entire evening, they talked, filling each other in on their lives.

When the music finally ended, they rejoined their husbands. Lucien du Perigneaux had filled in Richard on the gossip of the Royal Bavarian court, in his humorous and decidedly cynic way. He seemed to take nothing and nobody serious, himself the least. Growing up in exile, in London, had been a tough lesson for the young Lucien, for his father had been a rather penniless emigré.

The experience had given the young French noble his cynical view of the world. He frankly expressed his view that the Bourbon monarchy in France would not last.

"Zey are a zing from ze past, mon cher. Zey transported the last century back bodily, but ze times 'ave changed."

Once they had bidden farewell to their new friends, Richard and Ellen collected their entourage and left. Ellen was upbeat to the extreme. Hundreds of miles from home, she had found a relative, a woman her own age, to top it off. She was looking forward already to the next afternoon. Marie had invited them for tea, and she would bring Little Tony and Siobhan.

Ellen's exalted mood did not abate after she and Richard went upstairs to their bedroom. After Sadie had helped Ellen out of her dress and stockings, Ellen dismissed her. Shedding the rest of her clothes, Ellen laid back on the canopied bed, waiting for Richard to return from his dressing room where he was undressing with the help of Hoggins.

When Richard entered, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Quickly, however, a smile spread over his lips as he regarded Ellen's body, lying on the bed in all her naked glory. Ellen grinned back at him.

"It's been weeks since we had an opportunity," she stated with a pout.

Richard was not one to object. Rather, he let his eyes wander over Ellen's body, taking in her breasts, almost down to their normal size again. The tummy was that of a grown woman and mother. For the life of him, though, Richard could not envision a more beautiful bed companion.

"Those blasted cabins," he concurred. Then he smiled like a child in a bakery. "You look wonderful. I can never get enough of looking at you."

"There is that. You may look and touch, though," Ellen smiled back.

With quick movements, Richard stripped off the remainder of his clothes and joined Ellen on the rather short and narrow bed. Franconians were not a tall breed, Richard mused, and the bed, being barely six feet long and four wide, was a tight fit for Ellen and him. This resulted in a rather awkward effort of Richard to kiss his wife's body. Ellen giggled at his predicament, a giggle that changed into a squeal once Richard's mouth latched on her belly button.

Her hands took a good hold of his hair when Richard ventured lower, nuzzling Ellen's soft opening with his nose first, followed quickly by his tongue.

"Oooooh, how I missssed that," she hissed between clenched teeth. "Yes, my love, yesss!"

Richard dove into her like a starved man, licking, sucking, nibbling on Ellen's folds, his tongue stabbing her opening, until Ellen's mewls turned into moans and soft cries.

The enforced celibacy in the closed quarters of the various ships and boats had whetted Ellen's senses, and she quickly began to climb her peak of lust. When Richard felt her getting close, he used three fingers of his hand, formed into a spear, and shoved them deep into Ellen's opening. He angled his hand upwards, until his middle finger sensed a different skin texture. Rubbing the sensitive area, he sucked to top of Ellen's vulva into his mouth, letting his tongue flick over the captured female flesh.

This was the last straw for Ellen, and she became unglued. She thrashed wildly on the bed, nearly unseating Richard who had to hold on for dear life. Slowly, she calmed down, jerking whenever Richard let his tongue caress the inflamed flesh.

It was minutes, before Ellen sat up in the bed and pulled Richard's face up. Rarely, if ever, had Ellen conveyed so much tender love in a kiss, Richard felt. Her lips went everywhere over his face, his throat, even his ears. He shuddered, when her hot tongue snaked into his ear, and he felt his own lust mount to a point where he doubted that could endure more of Ellen's kisses.

Ellen must have sensed this, too, for she let go of his head and pushed him over and on his back. For a moment, she looked at his rampant member with mesmerised eyes. Then, with a growl from deep within her bosom, she swooped down on it with her hands and mouth. It took only seconds of Ellen's assault on his swollen member before Richard's hips jerked involuntarily. With a hoarse cry, he pushed his member deep into Ellen's soft mouth. Even when he erupted into her mouth, Ellen maintained her fervent sucking and licking; even when Richard's eruptions abated, she sucked and caressed him. In the end, the sensations became too much for him.

"Ellen, please stop!" he panted at last.

Ellen paused, undecided, still holding his member in her hand. Her eyes were smouldering.

"We're not done yet, my darling," she purred.

"I-I can't, Ellen. You drained me."

She gave him another smouldering look. Then, she moved upwards until her soft breasts framed his flaccid member and rained kisses on his stomach. Moving on his body, her breasts massaged his penis, sending delightful tingles through his body. Within minutes, blood began to fill the turgid shaft again, and shortly thereafter, Richard was fully hard.

With a mischievous smile, Ellen straddled his midsection. With one of her hands, she held Richard's erection, with the other, she parted her vulva. Then, in one flowing motion, she impaled herself to the core. A sobbing moan came from Ellen's lips. Then she smiled down on Richard.

"I told you we weren't done yet," she gasped.

-------

Marie de Perigneaux lived across the river, in a house underneath the fortress. Lucien de Perigneaux had rented it a year ago, and they used it whenever the court moved to Wuerzburg. It was roomy, and Ellen liked the style with which her cousin had furnished it.

Richard was busy and could not accompany Ellen. It seemed that King Ludwig had the ambition to have the first steam railroad in Germany. He wanted to connect the twin cities of Nuremberg and Fuerth with a short railroad. The attempts to obtain an engine from Robert Stephenson had been futile so far, and Richard had been asked to use his influence. He was optimistic, since Lambert & Norton were important players in the financing of railroads in England.

Lucien de Perigneaux was not at home, either, leaving the two cousins to acquaint themselves in private. Ellen learned that Marie's father was lost in Napoleon's ill-fated Russian campaign. Her mother was living with Marie's older brother in Toulouse, but Marie did not have much contact with them. They were devout Catholics, and they disapproved of Marie's husband whose cynical views encompassed church and religion.

Ellen told of her own youth, her upbringing, and the terrible year alone, herding sheep. She left out details of her first contact with Richard, but she told of the duel and the enduring enmity of Marjorie Binnings.

Both women were astounded to find that they had spent the entire afternoon talking, although they were far from being finished. It was logical, therefore, to invite Marie over for the next afternoon in the Carters' temporary residence.



-------

Chapter 37: At the Royal Bavarian Court


Over the next weeks, a pattern of alternating visits developed. Sometimes, Maddalena joined them, but more often, they were alone, as Maddalena became attached to Melissa and Colleen who toured the city and the surrounding countryside to view the numerous artefacts that even the small village churches boasted. Whenever his duties as Richard's secretary did not keep him, James Palmer accompanied the young women. Every evening, Melissa returned with a few new water colours, James with pencil drawings, and Colleen with her notebook more filled. Maddalena did not produce anything, but she collected small artefacts whenever she could talk the owners out of them in return for Bavarian Guilders.

With the end of August approaching, wine festivals were held in the small villages along the river, and the Carters and their friends made the short trips by coach, sampling wine and food, and getting to know the natives. Ellen and Marie often braided their hair like the local women did, looking even more alike. They enjoyed the harmless banter of their husbands who made like they tried to kiss the wrong woman, eliciting shrieks of equally fake outrage. It was a happy time for all involved.

Nevertheless, September was approaching and a golden summer was drawing to an end. Once again, their possessions were packed in trunks and crates, and loaded on coaches. It took three coaches to transport the Carters, their friends and servants, and their luggage.

It took four days to travel the almost 200 miles from Wuerzburg to Munich, and the travellers were fairly rumpled when they arrived. Fortunately, Richard had been able to persuade the former ambassador, the Honorable Edward Fenemore, to sell his Munich palais to Richard. They were able to move into that house without much ado.

It was a pretty building, in the Baroque style, sitting on a fairly large patch of land outside the walled city. Fortunately, the good weather held, and little Tony enjoyed exploring the garden with Ricky at his heel.

Right in their first weeks in Munich, they had their first real exposure to the Bavarians. In the second half of September, the Oktoberfest people's fair started, commemorating the wedding of the crown prince Ludwig to Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen that had taken place at the same site in 1810. The marriage was dwindling away with each new affair King Ludwig had, but the people's fair was getting ever more popular, drawing thousands of visitors every evening. For sixteen days, those who could afford it and many who really couldn't, populated the beer tents and the shooting galleries and consumed large quantities of beer from huge earthen tankards of a little less than two pints.

Richard and Ellen, and their entourage, were present when, on the first evening, the first keg of beer was tapped, and the mayor of Munich presented the first "Maß" to the King. It was on this occasion that Ellen met the Queen Therese again, but there was no chance for any talk. The Queen looked withdrawn, even on this celebration of her wedding day.

Ellen valiantly managed one of the tankards of beer, and like Marie who sat to her right, she contrived to finish the content before it became stale. Maddalena did not even try. Richard proved his manliness by finishing three of the beer mugs. The collection of dignitaries developed a decided buzz, talking animatedly, and the jests became more raucous as time went by.

Melissa was in her element. She finished her mug with ease. Whenever one of the table neighbours raised his mug for a toast, Melissa banged her own mug against the proffered tankard in the fashion of the natives. In her broken German, she voiced her appreciation of the beer, not without pointing out that her own father was a brewer of some renown.

The crowds were like nothing Ellen and Richard had ever seen. Ellen watched a skinny old man who sat two tables away. That worthy managed to down no less than seven mugs of beer in three hours without ever standing up. When he did stand, he managed to walk between the tables as straight as anybody, and Ellen guessed that he was heading for one of the numerous outhouses. He had to!

When they finally arrived at their house, Ellen could barely undress before she dropped on their bed. She slept like a log that night. Surprisingly, she felt no hangover when she awoke to the sunlight streaming into their bedroom. Richard looked a little worse for wear, but assured her that he felt tired, not nauseous.

That set the pace for the next fifteen days, until the festival ended on the first Sunday in October. Every evening, they and the other diplomats, with the notable exception of Prince Wassilij and the Princess Besuchova, joined the King and his courtiers for an evening of beer and laughter. As the days passed, Ellen and Richard learned quite a few German words, and they understood the gist of the tales and jokes. They also became accustomed to drinking beer, and by the end of the Oktoberfest, Ellen was able to take care of a Maßkrug without problems.

To her and Marie's dismay, they noticed one unwelcome side effect of the beer drinking. Both had difficulties fitting into their ball dresses, having gained a few pounds since their arrival to Munich. Richard, too, had developed a decided paunch. For the rest of October, steamed vegetables and teas were the main fare at the Carter's table, and Ellen took Maddalena on extended rides through Munich's parks until she felt comfortable again.

For the ball season loomed ahead, and Ellen wanted to enjoy the frequent soirees and dances. For years, she had been either pregnant or travelling during the ball season. Together with Maddalena and Marie, she dragged their reluctant husbands from one dance to the next.

There were charities, too, to which Ellen tried to lent her support. She met many of the prominent citizens and their wives, during those functions, and she did her best to represent her country. However, her participation in most charities was thwarted by Catholic church representatives who objected to working with a "heretic". There was a municipal orphanage, though, that was not affiliated with the all-powerful church, and there, Ellen helped raise contributions from among the representatives of Protestant countries.

For Maddalena, things were even less easy. Once it transpired that she had converted from Catholicism to the Church of England, she became persona non grata for many of the salon dwellers who had important connections with the church. In Bavaria, the Catholic Church still held enormous power in all folds of social live.

Maddalena did not care too much. This was what she had expected, more or less. There was another reason for her indifference, though. She confided to Ellen that she had missed her monthlies twice, and that she was confident that she carried her first child. This was happy news indeed.

Ellen herself was not too eager to have her next child soon. This posting in Munich was new and exciting, and she did not want to be tied down soon. She had talked with Richard, and while they enjoyed each other in bed frequently, they did not end their sessions with Richard inside her. Ellen used her hands, her mouth, and often her soft bosom to bring Richard satisfaction. In his turn, Richard made sure that Ellen did not miss out on tender loving, either.

Just in time for Christmas, the weather turned really cold in mid-December, and it started to snow. This was not the wet, clinging snow of the southern country side, nor the dirty snow, grey with the soot from hundreds of thousands of fireplaces, that they had sometimes seen in London. This was white, powdery snow that drifted in the clear air. Little Tony was ecstatic, as was Ricky, the dog. Ellen had to put her foot down to get them back into the house after the first hour. She noticed then that Tony's shoes were not even wet inside after that hour; the dry, cold snow did not melt easily.

There was no Anglican church in Munich. However, due to a royal edict from 1806, the Lutherans were free to practise their religion in Bavaria, and just a year before, in 1833, the first "Evangelical Cathedral" of Munich was finished, close to the Sendling Gate of the inner city. In this St. Matthew's Church, the Carters and their friends and dependants celebrated Christmas Eve. Several courtiers of King Ludwig, who were Lutheran, were in presence, too.

After church, they all went to the municipal orphanage to distribute presents. They met Lucien and Marie Perigneaux there who had attended a Catholic service, and together, they spent over an hour, listening to Christmas carols, sung by the children.

The beginning of the New Year, 1835, was celebrated in style in the Royal Palace of Nymphenburg. The motto of the New Year's ball was trachten, meaning regional clothing styles. While the Bavarian guests wore the various local garbs of their home towns and villages, Ellen and Richard were challenged to assemble the Sunday's best of a Berkshire squire and his wife. Ellen sorely missed the availability of Elisabeth Wilson in her preparations, but with Neeta's and Sadie's help, she managed to be presentable, even in her own critical view.

The evening was something to tell about. The Great Hall of the palace was decorated in Blue and White, and the Carters milled around in a sea of women, wearing the form enhancing dirndl dresses, and men, wearing coarse wool cloth jackets and knee-length leather breeches.

Lucien Perigneaux appeared dressed as a Gascogne brigand, the effect of his costume enhanced, no doubt, by the eye patch he had to wear. Marie had to be the most outrageously dressed woman of the evening. Her red farm girl dress only reached the lower calves, and when she danced, the gentlemen in the hall were treated to the most rare view of female ankles. Marie received some nasty looks from matronly women, and some admiring looks from unmarried men.

Richard and Ellen danced, too, but their costumes were unlikely to cause objections, being plain in appearance. When Lucien and Marie stopped at their table, a little breathless from waltzing, Richard could not help cast an admiring look at his wife's cousin.

"My dear Marie, it is a good thing that I am married to Ellen, or I would have to kill the poor Lucien," he joked.

Lucien laughed good-naturedly, obviously proud of the looks Marie received.

"'ow would you do zat?" he asked laughingly. "Zere are no Prussians 'ere to 'elp you."

It was amusing how the French, even those of the royalist camp, still held a grudge over the outcome of the battle of Waterloo. Richard pointed at the fountain in the centre of the Hall and grinned.

"We could fight in the basin. Two feet of water, and any Frenchman is helpless."

"Stop it, you two," Ellen chided. "Come, Marie, let us leave them alone as punishment! They are not worthy of our company."

Once they had left the bantering men, Marie steered Ellen out of the hall and into a powder room.

"Oh, mon dieu! Ze looks I am getting!" Marie squealed. "It was stupid to wear such a dress."

"But you look wonderful, my dear!" Ellen reassured her.

"It's too much attention I get. Lucien talked me into wearing zis dress. I wish I 'ad dressed like you. You look terrible!"

They both laughed. Ellen had a glint in her eyes.

"Let's change! Let's see who of our husbands will notice first."

Marie hesitated only a second.

"We 'ave to be quick," she said.

"And keep our mouths shut, lest we betray ourselves," Ellen added, and they both broke out in laughter.

When they emerged from the powder room, ten minutes later, Ellen felt a weird excitement as they approached their husbands. To her surprise, Ellen saw that Lucien gave Richard a gold coin. Richard grinned.

"I knew it!" he said triumphantly.

Ellen and Marie stared at each other.

"How can you tell us apart?" Marie asked, almost accusingly.

Her husband only laughed, but Richard elaborated.

"You look very similar, my dears, but not identical. And Ellen," here he lowered his voice to a whisper, "is still feeding Siobhan, part of the time. She's... Umh... bigger."

"I am not!" Ellen pouted.

"Are too," Richard answered, putting his arm around her shoulders.

Immediately, the talk around them ceased, and people stared at them. Obviously, the other people had fallen for the clothes swap. With a grin, Richard led Ellen to the dance floor.

Whirling around, following the waltz, Ellen was very much aware that the dress revealed a good part of her lower legs. Strangely, this excited her more than she would have thought. During those last years, she had been forced to be the proper Miss Wilkes or Lady Lambert, often under pressure not to give openings to enemies like Marjorie Binnings.

There had been preciously few moments where she had been able to be mischievous and daring. The few stolen minutes on top of the Great Pyramid came to her mind, but else? Being painted as Leda with the Swan! Yes, that had been naughty. Tonight was on the list, too. Dancing in a farm girl dress, showing her calves at a royal New Year's ball, was definitely daring.

Richard, too, grinned an outrageous smile, as he spun her around, following the lively music. Finally, the waltz was over, and they could return to their table. Ellen was flushed with the exertion and the excitement. After she had rested a few minutes, she felt the approach of a group of people. Looking up and around, she saw King Ludwig. Ellen stood quickly and curtseyed.

"Ah, Madame de Perigneaux!" she heard the King address her in French. "Would you allow me to lead you through the next waltz?"

"I cannot speak for my cousin, your Majesty, but if you were to contend yourself with the Lady Lambert, I should feel very honoured."

Hearing Ellen's English-accented German (she had learned the language fairly well), the King was perplexed for a second. He tilted his head, obviously in need for an explanation.

"I exchanged dresses with my cousin," Ellen explained, giving him her full smile.

For a moment, the King stood speechless, but then he laughed uproariously at the jest.

"Madame, you had me!" he finally admitted. "I had planned on asking you later, though. You should not have gone through this masquerade."

It was a witty repartee, Ellen had to admit, and she bowed slightly to acknowledge it.

The following minutes were the apex of Ellen's career in society. She was dancing the waltz with a ruling monarch, after all. He was an excellent dancer, too, and Ellen enjoyed it exceedingly.

Richard had taken the cue and was dancing the waltz with the Queen Therese who, for once, seemed to enjoy herself. The absence of any good "friends" of his Majesty could be one reason, Ellen mused.

When the dance ended and King Ludwig delivered her back at her table, she was met by the prim-looking Marie.

"I see through your wily schemes, Cousin," Marie accused her laughingly. "You usurped my place."

"Why, Cousin, I gave his Majesty fair warning, yet he insisted on dancing with me," Ellen answered with a straight face.

"Perhaps, Madame, if you will be kind enough to dance the next waltz with me, we can resolve the dispute with your cousin?" the King suggested to Marie, obviously enjoying the banter and himself.

"King Solomon himself was no wiser monarch," Marie smiled and took the offered arm.

In the meantime, Richard had returned to the table, too, but the Queen was with him. Again, Ellen curtseyed, only to receive a friendly nod.

"Why, you look lovely, my dear Lady Lambert," the Queen smiled. "A bit risqué, perhaps. I still remember you from that matinee in London. How is our good friend Anita?"

"She enjoyed retirement for a few months, your Majesty, before she started an acting school."

Queen Therese looked worried.

"Not out of financial need, I hope?"

Richard laughed.

"That would never happen as long as my parents own a single penny. The theatre is her life. I suppose, the acting school allows her to stay connected to the theatre."

"That is a relief," Queen Therese sighed. "My husband tells me that you are quite an industrious man, Lord Lambert. The diplomatic service, the East India Company, and now a bank?"

Richard shrugged.

"I could not hope to make my mark in the Royal Navy, like my grandfather, my father and my uncle. I had to find other venues for my ambition."

"With all that ambition, I hope you will not neglect your wife," the Queen said with an air of sadness.

Richard kissed Ellen's hand in response.

"How could I ever?" he answered.

When the church bells tolled the midnight hour, they all stood and listened as the Count Hohenstedt toasted the health of the monarch. Then the King toasted his guests, before he took the Queen Therese out on the dance floor, claiming the first waltz of the new year.

It was almost two o'clock when Richard and Ellen returned to their home. That was not the end to their New Year's celebrations, though. They had barely ascended to the second floor, where they had their bedroom, when Richard dismissed the servants. Ellen was still wearing Marie's red dress, and she noticed that Richard liked what he saw. She cocked her head at him in question.

"You didn't think this night is over, did you?" Richard asked huskily.

Ellen raised her eyebrow.

"What do you mean by zat, monsieur? I am but a simple farm girl. What would ze squire want of me?"

She had managed a fairly good imitation of Marie's accent.

"I think I shall have to ravish you, my girl," Richard answered, fighting a smile.

"Oh, no, monsieur! Zink off vat ze priest will say! Zis is not right!"

"I shall have you nonetheless, wench! Come here and yield!"

"Oh, no! 'ave mercy!" Ellen cried in mock pathos, fighting the giggle that threatened to bubble up.

"No mercy!" Richard snarled, closing in on her.

Ellen wiggled madly in his arms, as he grabbed her, but she did not fight him too hard. She felt herself manhandled to an upholstered chair and thrown unceremoniously over the back. With growing excitement, she felt Richard's hand as it lifted the hem of the dress. Then his fingers wormed into her drawers, deftly seeking her moist centre. Ellen gasped when Richard's fingers brushed over her sensitive lips and her little love button. His fingers met with nothing but slick moistness, for Ellen had felt arousal all evening.

With a growl, Richard jabbed three fingers into Ellen, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh, no! Not zere!" Ellen teased him again.

"You are wet, my little French wench," Richard breathed. "Do you want your squire to give you a bastard child?"

"'ave mercy! I cannot be wizz child, monsieur. My fazzer will zrow me out!"

"It's too late for that! I shall have my way with you!"

That said, Richard opened the flap of his trousers to pull out his straining member. Without further ado, he pressed it against Ellen's moist opening. It slipped in easily.

"Oh, mon dieu! You split me in two, monsieur!" Ellen squealed, her laughter now close to the surface.

"That will teach you not to tempt honest men with your wily ways," Richard breathed, pumping into Ellen from behind.

"Oh, you 'urt me... so good!"

For a while that was the last words Ellen or Richard uttered. Only heavy breathing and squeals could be heard, and the constant slap-slap of Richard's hips against Ellen's quivering buttocks. Then, Richard made the mistake of looking down, to where his member drove deep into Ellen. He saw the almost perfect twin globes of her backside, the puckered hole of her anus that clenched rhythmically with each of his thrusts, and he lost control. With a deep moan, he pressed himself deeply into his wife, before his member began to spurt into her.

He felt Ellen shiver as he did his utmost to drive into her her depths, and then her muffled wail could be heard, for she had buried her face into the upholstery.

When they finally caught their breath, Ellen turned her face and smiled at Richard.

"Now, did you enjoy my cousin?"

She winked, signalling that she had seen it as a game she had enjoyed, too.

"She is quite a woman," Richard answered laughingly. Then he sobered somewhat. "I don't know where all this came from, darling. I promise..."

"Ssh, I know, darling. It was just a naughty fantasy, with no meaning. I know I can trust you. I think I can trust Marie, too. Although..."

"What?"

"Could you, perhaps, wear an eye patch, the next time?"

Ellen broke out in giggles, as Richard blushed for a second. Then she squealed, as Richard slapped her white buttocks.

"You are a naughty woman, Ellen," he stated with a sheepish grin.



-------

Chapter 38: The Waif


The same group of people met again on New Year's Day, for a reception at the Palais of the Austrian envoy, the Archduke Josef. Small, rotund, and with an impressive beard, the Archduke was universally regarded as the most sociable of the entire diplomatic corps in Munich. Ellen and Richard had sat with him during a few evenings at the Oktoberfest, and they had found him most entertaining. He was a widower, but a steady string of "actresses" helped him to console himself.

His latest flame was an actress from Louisiana, a Quarterone of most exquisite beauty, whom he had discovered during a visit to Paris, and whom he had persuaded to share his palais for a season or two.

Of course, for many in Munich's society, this was scandalous, but the Archduke was not disconcerted by the gossip. He was a close cousin to the Austrian King and German Emperor, fourth in line of succession, a Knight of the Golden Fleece, and not even the Bishop dared to reprimand him.

Isabelle Delatour, the actress, was a most delightful person, Ellen found, and she enjoyed seeing her again. Ellen was decidedly tired, after the ball at the Palace and the subsequent romp with Richard, but she found the atmosphere at the reception stimulating enough.

Marie and Lucien de Perigneaux were late, and when they arrived, Ellen could not help but sense some discord between her friends. It was not much, but Marie's smile seemed forced, and Lucien's shoulders were tense, even when he greeted Ellen and Richard.

Ellen had no opportunity, though, to ask Marie about the trouble she perceived. There were just too many people at the matinee, and most of the time, Isabelle Delatour laid a claim on Ellen.

The King made a late entrance, too, and he excused the Queen Therese who was, as it seemed, suffering from the after effects of wine and champagne. Ludwig seemed somewhat ruffled himself, although his mood belied that. He was ever courteous to the ladies, and he spent a few minutes with each of the assembled guests.

Ellen did not speak privately with Marie until the next afternoon when she visited her cousin to return the red peasant girl dress. Marie received her, and they had tea together. Lucien was absent, Ellen was told, and she grabbed the opportunity.

"Is something wrong, Marie?" she asked, inflecting honest concern in her voice.

"What makes you ask that, my dear Ellen?" Marie answered with faux cheerfulness.

"I have come to know you, Marie," Ellen returned. "I could sense tension between you and Lucien, yesterday. I hope you did not quarrel on behalf of our little jest?"

"No, no, it was not about zat. 'e... 'e was gone ze 'ole night again."

"Oh... I didn't know... How could I know..." Ellen blushed. "You don't mean Lucien sees another woman?"

Marie smiled bitterly.

"No. Not a woman."

"Then what... Oh!"

Ellen understood, but she was shocked. Lucien? He did not fit her preconceived ideas of a "confirmed bachelor".

"Yes, for a while I 'oped 'e would change," Marie said wistfully. "'e can't, zough."

"Oh, Marie, is that why you have no children? You must..."

"Oh yes. Children. Zat 'ope died a long time ago. I should not complain too much. I owe 'im a lot."

"But you miss out on love, Marie! You miss out on all the wonderful things that..." Ellen faltered, not certain she should give away any intimate details of her and Richard's lovemaking.

"Do you really believe in love, Ellen?" Marie asked, her eyebrow arched in mock surprise.

"Indeed I do!" Ellen replied with conviction. "I experience it every day. Before you make fun of my naivety, I know the sorry state many marriages are in. That should not stop women and men to aim higher, though."

Marie shook her head.

"'o says I did not aim 'igher, ma cher?"

Ellen shook her head, chagrined.

"You are right, Marie, forgive my prying. My stepmother told me the same, a year ago. She thinks that because I feel happy, I want everybody around me to feel happy, too, regardless of whether they have the potential."

"Zat is what I love about you, Ellen! You see your good fortune as obligation to make ozzer people's lives better. But you must accept zat zis will not always be possible."

Marie got up from her chair and pulled Ellen up to a standing position. Holding both of Ellen's hands, she looked deep into her cousin's eyes.

"Ellen, we've known each ozzer only for a few monz. Yet, you are closer to me zan anybody else. Closer zan my family, closer zan... Anyway, I zank ze fate for bring us togezzer."

Ellen smiled at her cousin.

"Marie, I feel the same. Well, not quite, forgive me. With Richard, it's more and deeper. You are my only family though. I love Richard's sister, and I admire his mother and his grandmother. I feel deep love for my stepparents. With you, however, it's different. You are the link to my roots. Do I make sense?"

"Perfectly," Marie said, and she planted a feather-light kiss on Ellen's lips.

-------

The ball season in Munich went on for the entire January and February. This was Carnival, and many costume balls were to attend. At a certain point, the novelty was gone, and attendance became a chore.

Richard was feeling the strain, too. During daytime, he was involved in a four way diplomacy, involving Austria and Bavaria, on one side, and Prussia and the British on the other side. Prussia vied for dominance in Germany, opposed by the Catholic League, led by Austria. France, too, was trying to meddle, increasingly supporting the Holy Alliance.

When the Carnival season ended, both Richard and Ellen felt relief. Of course, the beginning of the fasting time was celebrated with just another beer festival, the "Strong Beer Festival". The Catholic monks had long found out that fasting was less taxing when the drink consumed was a nourishing beer. Hence, the "Strong Beer" was created to help the faithful over the fasting weeks, lest they suffered weight loss.

The Carters' household more or less obeyed the ban on meat, greatly aided by Neeta's recipes of spicy vegetable dishes from her Bengali home. It was a welcome change after months of overeating at the various festivities.

For Richard, things were easier, too, for King Ludwig left Munich for Italy where he doubtlessly reacquainted himself with his Duchesa. Before the King left, Richard had good news for his royal host. Stephenson had agreed to deliver a steam locomotive for the planned railroad between Nuremberg and Fuerth. This meant that the plans could be put into execution, and His Majesty was overjoyed.

During the week before Easter, all public life in Munich came to a halt. The Carters and their friends stayed at home, for the most parts, and waited impatiently for Easter Sunday. With the Easter celebrations, winter ended officially, and the people, commoners and noble persons, once again mingled in the streets and in the parks.

Richard had organised a brief getaway for his family and their friends. The Count Hohenstedt had offered his hunting cabin in the foothills of the Alps, south of Rosenheim. The air was still cold at night, but during the day, the sun was strong enough to melt the last remnants of the snow. The hunting cabin was a solidly built log house, two storeys high, and built around a huge masonry stove. The interior was made of fir wood, and the upstairs sleeping chambers were small and low. The Carters liked it anyway.

For Little Anthony, this was heaven. The boy was over four years old now, and he loved to watch the animals, mostly cows, on the pastures that surrounded the cabin. The family spent many hours climbing the surrounding hills, and Anthony was always ahead of them, accompanied by Ricky. Inevitably, on the return trip, Richard would have to carry the boy part of the distance.

The cabin was kept by a housekeeper, a kind, elderly matron who fussed over the pregnant Maddalena as if she were the grandmother of the child. A girl from the village nearby, a skinny, blond waif of perhaps fourteen years who went by the name Evi, helped her in the mornings, cleaning the chambers and doing the laundry. The girl always disappeared before noon, running back to the village on her thin legs.

After a few days, while the family was sitting at lunch, Ellen noticed something peculiar. Sadie was obviously stashing away bread and pieces of roast pork into the folds of her skirt. Ellen was mildly surprised. This was not how she knew Sadie. Ellen prided herself on being a caring mistress for her staff, and Sadie never went hungry.

After lunch, the family rested. To her surprise, Ellen saw that Sadie left the cabin by the back door and walked briskly in the direction of the village. A short whistle brought Ricky to her side, and Ellen followed Sadie at some distance, curious of what she might find out.

Out of necessity, Ellen stayed at the fringes of the forest, to be covered, and Sadie put a little distance between them. Undauntedly, Ellen broke into a short run, followed by an overjoyed Ricky who found this a great fun, obviously. The run brought Ellen closer to the briskly walking Sadie, and she could see now that Sadie was scanning the area in front of her. Obviously, she saw what she was looking for and waved with her arms.

Ellen moved into the shadows of the trees and watched. It was only a few minutes later, when she saw the blonde waif appear. Comprehension dawned on Ellen. Sadie was smuggling food to the girl. She sighed with relief. There was no need now to admonish Sadie.

Ellen sat on a log and continued to watch. She could see that the girl wolfed down the food Sadie had brought. Then she pressed Sadie's hand briefly and ran away again. Sadie began to walk back in the direction of the cabin when she noticed first Ricky, who was lying in the middle of the path, and then Ellen. She gave a visible start, before she approached Ellen with obvious trepidation. Ellen watched her with a friendly smile.

"You should have told me, Sadie," she admonished Sadie mildly, when she stood before Ellen. "Isn't she getting food in the kitchen?"

"I'm sorry, M'lady," Sadie said, her head bowed. "She's so skinny, and she works all day, and they don't give her enough food. I'll repay you for the food I took."

"Shush! Not a word of that!" Ellen expostulated. "I should have seen this myself. Isn't she getting food in the kitchen?"

"No, M'lady. She works for money, and the money goes to the farmer where she lives. The housekeeper is afraid to give her food, for fear you'll accuse her of theft."

Ellen shook her head. She had assumed that the girl would get food in the kitchen, and she had not thought to tell the housekeeper that it was all right.

"What does she do in the afternoons?" she asked Sadie.

"She's herding sheep for the farmer. That must be hard work, her feet are full of blisters from running after those sheep."

Ellen shook her head disbelievingly. What shepherd would run after the sheep? You just had to goad them along, and they would move willingly enough. She would talk to the girl tomorrow.

"I'll see to it that she will get enough to eat, from now on. In the future, Sadie, speak to me about these matters. Now, let's walk back."

"Thank you, M'lady. I'm sorry that I disappointed you."

Ellen could tell that Sadie felt bad.

"Sadie, I'm not angry with you. You did what your heart told you to do. Come tomorrow, we'll look after the girl together." Ellen laughed. "I may have to teach her shepherding!"

Sadie looked at her mistress incredulously.

"Didn't you know, Sadie? I earned my living that way, when I was your age."

"B-but you're a lady..." Sadie stammered.

"Not then," Ellen laughed. "I used to be good at herding sheep. I wonder whether I still have the feel for the animals."

That night, in the small sleeping chamber that she shared with Richard and the children, she told him of what she had learned. Richard groaned in the dark.

"What?" Ellen asked.

"Another stray for you to pick up?" he asked.

"Well, they all worked out just fine!" Ellen defended herself. "There was Millicent, and now we have Sadie and Neeta. You cannot find any fault with them, can you?"

"Of course not, darling. Forget my stupid remark. You obviously have a fine nose for strays."

"Have you been goading me, Richard?"

She heard the chuckle in the dark.

"Just a little, my sweet. What's one more waif to feed?"

"I'm not planning to take her in. I only want her to have enough to eat."

"For that, you'll have to take her in. What's the use of feeding her now when she'll starve after we left? She seems to be a good worker. She can help wash the nappies and keep the nursery clean. Hire her if you care for the girl!"

There was some reason in what Richard said, Ellen admitted to herself while drifting into sleep. Sadie would have to find out what the girl really needed, Ellen decided. Thanks to Arnold, Count Hohenstedt's servant, Sadie was fluent in Bavarian German and often served as translator for Ellen whose German skills were moderate. Ellen doubted that Sadie would return to England with them.

The next morning was sunny, and they decided to explore one of the foothills on the other side of the village. Before they left, Ellen, with Sadie's help, instructed the housekeeper to give the girl Evi two meals, in the morning and before she left. Then, the family set out on their hike.

Of course, James and Maddalena stayed behind, as did Neeta and the wetnurse, with little Siobhan. The rest of the group, however, joined Richard and Ellen. Melissa had left behind her easel, for once, and she walked hand in hand with Colleen. By tacit agreement, the Carters had acknowledged the "special friendship" of Melissa and Colleen, and here, in the open nature where no gossip mongers could see them, the two young women allowed their mutual feelings to show.

Beyond the small forest that separated the hunting lodge from the village proper, they saw a flock of sheep, grazing under the care of small boy who ran to and fro, yelling at the sheep. Ellen shook her head. It was obvious that the boy had no knowledge of the animals. It was a small flock of less than thirty head, yet the boy had no control over them.

Ricky looked at Ellen expectantly. He had been a pup only when Ellen had herded sheep, but during their stay in India, Ricky had stayed on Woodbridge where he had helped to tend Ellen's old flock. Now the dog was eager to perform.

Ellen hesitated. She had "worked" with Ricky a few times in the last years, but she was far from being a competent shepherd these days. The desperate struggle of the boy to keep the sheep off a freshly sowed field, however, made her intercede.

A soft whistle was all the signal Ricky needed to take over the right flank of the flock. The sheep bleated in protest when the dog appeared, but they moved away from the field and back towards the grassland. Ellen only had to position herself on the opposite side of the flock, to prevent the sheep from circling around Ricky. Within three or four minutes, the small herd was under control.

The boy looked at her with an open mouth when she walked over to him. She gave him an encouraging smile.

"Never run after sheep," she instructed him in her broken German. "Walk circle, calmly. No yelling."

The boy nodded dubiously, clearly confused over this woman who had come out of the blue and who seemed to have magic control over those stubborn and stupid animals. Another whistle from Ellen, and Ricky gave up his flanking position, returning to Ellen's side. The boy made big eyes.

"Try walk slowly," Ellen reminded him once more, before she turned to catch up with the rest of the group.

Richard greeted her with a grin.

"Show off!" he accused.

Ellen could see that Melissa and Colleen grinned as well, and she felt defensive.

"I just wanted to help."

"You've been itching to do that since yesterday," Richard maintained. "Admit it!"

"Oh well, yes. I wanted to see whether I can still do this," Ellen admitted, grudgingly.

"Well, obviously, you can," Richard laughed. "I have the most accomplished wife. Not only is she beautiful and skilled in tea room politics, she also knows how to herd sheep."

Ellen knew that Richard wanted to goad her again, but she felt too good to accept the bait. Instead, she took Little Anthony's hand and started on the hike again. Ignoring Richard, she explained what she had done and how Ricky had helped. In contrast to his father, Anthony was impressed with his mother's shepherding skills.

They reached the hilltop before noon and rested there, enjoying the wide view. They had lunch, too, from the knapsack Richard carried, and rested in the soft grass for an hour. The descent was more tasking than the way up, for the stony path was slippery. Anthony fell at least three times, chafing his knees, until Richard and Ellen took either of his hands and marched him down the hill.

When they marched through the village, they received curious stares from the villagers who were sitting on benches, taking their noon break. Their greetings were returned with friendly nods, especially from the male population.

When they reached the meadow where the sheep were grazing, the young boy was in the company of a tall man whose clothes identified him as the tenant. The man approached them, taking off his felt hat in greeting. Richard doffed his hat in response.

"Gruess Gott," he offered, meaning God's greeting.

"Groos God," Richard answered in reply, still failing to pronounce the peculiar vocals of the German language.

"Is des Eana Hund?" the farmer asked.

Richard looked at Sadie for help.

"He asks whether Ricky is your dog, Milord," Sadie translated.

"Tell him, yes, he is. Ask him why he wants to know, please."

Sadie turned to the farmer and translated. It took a few minutes to figure out what the man wanted. Apparently, he had a bitch which had been a good sheepdog, until a hunter had shot it by accident. Now it was lame and was useless around the sheep. But it was in heat, and the farmer asked for the use of Ricky to breed his bitch. The boy had told the farmer about the ease with which Ricky had driven the sheep, and the farmer hoped to breed similarly gifted offspring.

The farmer even offered five guilders breeding fee when Ricky, on Ellen's signal, easily moved the herd to another grazing spot. Ricky clearly enjoyed the task, and he was inordinately proud when Ellen praised him.

Instead of accepting the offer of a breeding fee, Richard asked the farmer about the possibility to hire the young girl, Evi, away from him. A smile broke out on the farmer's face, and he agreed to let the girl go in return for Ricky's breeding prowess. Obviously, there were more orphans than good sheepdogs in the village.

It fell to Sadie to walk over to the farm and to make the offer to the waif. They returned together, with the meagre possessions of the young girl wrapped in a cloth. As agreed, Richard brought Ricky over to the farmhouse, where the limping bitch played hard to get, at first. However, Ricky had bred before, when he was kept on Woodbridge, and he was a dominant male. After a cursory show of resistance, the bitch soon allowed Ricky to mount, and Richard returned to the hunting lodge with a Ricky who was quite full of himself.

The procedure was repeated over the next two days, to ensure that the farmer was compensated for the loss of Evi's services.

Meanwhile, the girl was given a bed in Sadie's room, and Ellen saw to it that she was clothed properly. In spite of her work as a farm maid, Evi was used to cleanliness. She was made responsible for washing the bed sheets and nappies in the makeshift nursery, as well as the adults' undergarments. It was heart warming to watch Sadie as she taught the girl the workings of the household, and it made Ellen realise how much Sadie had become a part of the family.

She told Sadie that much, one of the next evenings, making sure that Sadie knew how much she was appreciated. Sadie gratified smile was beaming.

"Thank you, Milady. If I may say so, I like to work for you and his lordship very much. I would hate to leave your service."

"Not even for a handsome Bavarian manservant?" Ellen asked, with one eyebrow raised.

Sadie understood and blushed. She shook her head.

"Arnold is fun, Milady. He's a Hallodri, though. You know, he is very good with women, and he knows it. I enjoy my time with him, but he is not the right man for me, or for any other woman."

"How come you are so wise, Sadie?" Ellen asked, with a laugh.

"I watch people, Milady. Begging your pardon, after seeing you and his lordship together, I could not settle for something less."

Ellen gave the surprised young woman a hug.

"Keep your eyes and your heart open, Sadie, and you will find the right man."



-------

Chapter 39: Keeping it in the Family


The stay in the hunting lodge, delightful as it was, had come to an end, and the Carters returned to Munich in early May. Here, Richard found a pile of documents that had been delivered by a special courier.

One envelope, in particular, bore the seal of the Royal Household. It contained orders for a special mission. The Household and the Government, it seemed, were evaluating potential husbands for the Princess Victoria. One such prospect was Prince Franz August Carl Albert Emmanuel of Sachse-Coburg and Gotha, the second son of the Duke Ernest of Sachse-Coburg and Gotha.

The British government did not employ an envoy in Coburg, and Richard was instructed to visit Coburg, which was neighbouring north-eastern Bavaria, and to report on the young prince. The was a smaller envelope within, from the Private Secretary of the King and addressed to Lady Lambert, in which she was asked to accompany her husband and to communicate her impression of the boy to King William.

It seemed, the King was sceptical, for two reasons. Firstly, the boy's father was the brother of Princess Victoria's mother, making them first cousins. The King maintained that such marriages were rarely ever lucky. Secondly, the House Sachse-Coburg and Gotha was rumoured to favour liberal ideas such as equal representation. King William, in his old days, had become rather conservative.

Leaving the children in Neeta's care, and the household under James Palmer's protection (Maddalena was due to deliver any minute), Richard and Ellen, with two servants, Hogget and Sadie, left Munich by coach for the four day journey to Coburg.

It was an educating journey; they touched cities such as Ingolstadt, Nuremberg, and Bamberg, with its imposing cathedral, before, on the fourth day, they reached Coburg. The city was dominated by the medieval castle, the Veste Coburg, once seat of the Dukes of Coburg. The Duke and his family lived in the city under the castle, in a neat looking palace, built in the Renaissance style.

The whole principality looked prosperous and well ordered, and the capital was no exception. Across from the ducal palace, Richard and Ellen found lodgings in a hotel. Once they had settled in, they had a quiet dinner in the guest room of the hotel and went to bed early.

The next morning, Richard sent a letter of introduction to the palace, announcing his presence and position. Within two hours, they received a friendly invitation to tea by the First Minister of His Highness, the Duke. Richard and Ellen made use of the free time by strolling through the city. The had lunch in the garden of a small pub and enjoyed the sunny weather.

His Excellency, Baron Eilfeld, the First Minister, received them in the official part of the palace. Once Richard had explained the purpose of their visit, His Excellency became even more friendly, and their tea lasted for over three hours. During this time, Richard and Ellen were told about the numerous achievements of the two Princes. Both had already spent time at the Belgian court, with their Uncle, King Leopold. Both spoke several languages, including English, and both attended the University of Bonn. Now, as Richard already knew, they were at home for the summer.

His Excellence also professed an interest to develop the ties between the Duchy of Coburg and the Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. Coburg had a lively glass industry, and his Excellency was eager to open the British market for their products. This set off a discussion about tariffs and trade routes, something his Excellency found Richard to be well versed in.

In the end, they received an invitation to dinner at His Excellency's home, the next evening, and they resigned to the fact that the ducal household would respond to their visit in their own time.

The Baron Eilfeld was joviality incarnate when they arrived at his palais for dinner. A number of other local dignitaries were present, too, and the conversation around the dinner table was light and friendly. The gentlemen exchanged their views on the current political situation in several German principalities, to which Richard listened politely.

Meanwhile, Ellen had to tell the ladies about the fashion trends in Munich and London, and she sighed inwardly more than once. These women, living in a small, landlocked principality, had less access to news from the rest of the world than the women she had met in Calcutta and Bombay.

Obviously, they had both made a good impression on their hosts, because Richard and Ellen received invitations to a private audience at the ducal court for the next morning.

To her surprise, Ellen found that she was decidedly unexcited when they were ushered into the audience chamber, the next morning. The constant exposure to nobility in Munich had made her quite blasé, and she walked into the chamber at Richard's side with all the indifference of a seasoned courtier.

The Duke was a tall man, Ellen noticed, with a wide face and sparse hair. The coat he wore was excellently tailored but plain, and he wore no outward signs of power. He rose from his seat to greet Ellen and Richard. He was friendly in his greeting without the excessive flattery Ellen had experienced at the court in Munich.

After the greeting, they sat at a tea table. The Duke waited for the tea to be served before he addressed his visitors. He gave Richard a sardonic smile.

"I had expected one of the numerous courtiers to come and examine my son, not a bona fide diplomat, Baron."

Richard shrugged.

"My grandmother and His Majesty have known each other for a long time, and His Majesty extends his trust to my wife and me."

The Duke acknowledged Ellen's presence.

"It gives me great pleasure to finally meet the famous Lady Lambert."

Ellen could not help but give a short laugh.

"I beg your pardon, Highness, but I do not know what I would be famous for."

"Oh, but you have enchanted the Royal court in Munich. There is talk of your beauty all over Southern Germany."

Ellen nodded with a smile.

"I hope the reality is not too disappointing?"

"On the contrary, Madame! Words can only fail to do justice to your beauty. I hear that you are well acquainted with my niece, the Princess Victoria?"

"I had the honour to receive her visits on several occasions last year," Ellen answered with the right measure of modesty.

"She described you in her letters to her grandmother. His Majesty chose wisely when he selected you to introduce her to social life. She also mentioned your mother and her tireless work for charitable causes."

"That is exceedingly kind of the Princess," Ellen smiled.

A lackey appeared and bowed.

"The Prince Albert Emmanuel, Your Highness!"

The tall and gangly youth who entered the audience chamber bore a striking resemblance to his father. Richard and Ellen rose.

"Albert, my son, please meet the British Envoy in Munich, Lord Richard Lambert and his wife."

The boy, just fifteen years of age, nevertheless greeted them in perfectly courteous form, acknowledging Richard by bowing his head and kissing Ellen's hand. He lost some countenance when Ellen greeted him with her dazzling smile; in fact, he blushed furiously. He recovered quickly though and sat at the table with his father.

Once the Prince sat, Richard helped Ellen to her chair, before he sat down himself.

"I have read about you in the letters from my cousin," the Prince offered. "Although, I have to admit that I expected an older person. I also enjoyed your book on Egypt which my cousin was friendly enough to send me, Madame."

Only fifteen, and a seasoned flatterer, Ellen thought.

"I had help writing it. It was my friend, Colleen MacAllister, who is entitled to any praise."

"It must be a wonderful experience to travel to lands as foreign as India and Arabia."

"It is a mixed experience, your Highness," Richard cut in. "In India, immeasurable wealth and abject poverty can be found side by side. In Arabia, too, one sees the glorious past and the depths of human misery."

"Since Britain rules India, how do you propose to better the conditions, Baron?" the Duke asked curiously.

"We are already working on such improvements," Richard answered with an eagerness born out his own involvement. "Most urgently, we need more effective transport between Europe and India. The geographical isolation is not conducive to improvements. The Overland Route should bring that about. At one point, we will also need to implement direct rule and parliamentary control. A commercial company is ill-suited to rule over millions of humans. Thirdly, more of India's ruling class must receive an education that will enable them to become modern, enlightened leaders."

The Duke laughed.

"Perhaps, this should apply to our European ruling class, as well! Some monarchs are still stuck in the glorious past."

Richard acknowledged the bon mot with a nod of his head.

"I cannot argue with your Highness, and I cannot help but fear that those, unable to adapt, will be swept away by the imminent changes."

"How very true, Baron! This is what we try to teach our young men and women. We have to change with the times."

-------

Later, after the young Prince had withdrawn, the Duke asked a few pointed questions.

"What can my son expect in England? I cannot help but fear that he may be as isolated as my poor sister."

"Your Highness, the Prince's situation would be entirely different," Ellen spoke up. "He is of the same age as the Princess, and he is young enough to adapt. If I may be so bold, your sister's perceived isolation is in no small part the result of her own rejection of all things English. The Princess does not mingle with the society. She barely speaks English. It is a small wonder that she feels isolated."

Ellen blushed slightly after she finished. She had spoken with more force than was her station, and she saw a worried frown flicker over Richard's features. The Duke Ernest, however, was weighing what she had said.

"Baroness, if I understand you correctly, you suggest... ?"

"The best course, it would seem, is for the Prince to receive schooling in English. He should familiarise himself with English writers and artists, but also with the political forces he and the Princess will have to deal with."

"I concur with my wife, Your Highness," Richard interjected. "One thing you have to understand is that public sentiment carries a great weight in England. It is amplified by the newspapers and influences the decisions in parliament. A monarch without appeal to the public will have a hard stand."

The Duke nodded. "Your King George suffered greatly from that, I believe?"

"Indeed, Highness."

"I must thank you, Baron, and you, too, Baroness, for your openness. Should I receive encouraging signals from London I shall have my son schooled accordingly."

The visit ended then, but not before the Dukes had issued another invitation for a grand reception two days later. Richard and Ellen accepted, of course.

Back in the hotel, Ellen spoke up.

"Richard, darling, I think I may have overstepped my station, back with the Duke. I'm sorry."

Richard gave her a smile.

"Don't be. I was worried first, but the Duke seems to have taken your advice as you meant it. You were right. The Duchess of Kent has elected to remain an outsider, to say the least. I have heard disparaging remarks about her often enough. If the boy wants to be accepted in England, he must not come across like a foreigner. Although, I must admit, I have reservations. It feels wrong to me when cousins are married to each other. This is against common decency."

Ellen grinned.

"His Highness obviously has no problems with that. If he had, he wouldn't have married his own niece."

Indeed, Ernest I. had married the daughter of his other own sister, after the divorce from his first wife. Richard laughed shortly.

"Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi! (What is proper for Jupiter is not proper for the ox.) Nobility in this country seems to be exempt from the laws of men and gods. The young Prince seems to be a decent chap, though."

Ellen giggled at Richard's disrespectful words. She answered in kind.

"Oh yes, he and Vicky should get along. famously We may as well start and write down our impressions, shouldn't we?"

"Yes, why don't you start. I need to get rid of this accursed collar, first!"

"Let me help you, darling," Ellen offered.

Adroitly, Ellen loosened Richard's tie and collar. The skin of his neck under the collar was red and chafed. Lovingly, Ellen rubbed deer tallow into the skin. A long kiss was her reward.

"What do you say? To hell with that report. Sadie and Hogget won't be back before three o'clock..."

Richard's husky voice conveyed his desire, and Ellen squealed delightedly when his hands deftly grabbed her derriere. The report could indeed wait...

-------

The two next days were spent with excursions into the surroundings. One of the Royal Hunters was appointed to accompany the high-ranking visitors. The good man, by the name of Ferdinand Ocker, was astounded to hear that their Excellencies, the Baron and the Baroness, had no desire whatever to shoot a deer. Instead, they collected wild strawberries and blueberries, and they delighted in watching a vixen which was teaching her litter how to hunt mice.

On the evening of the second day, however, Ellen and Richard dressed with care for the ducal reception. They were greeted cordially by the Duke who introduced his young wife. If the young Duchess possessed any endearing qualities, Ellen and Richard did not notice. She was aloof and arrogant, and she barely acknowledged the guests.

Through all this, Ellen smiled serenely. The months at the Bavarian court had taught her to disregard the arrogant nobles, rather than getting riled over their posturing. Under her breath, however, she commented on Her Highness. Richard had a hard time keeping his face straight.

The male members of the ducal family went out of their way to compensate for what they clearly found embarrassing attitude of the Duchess. Ellen and Richard met the heir to the Duchy, Prince Ernest, and they liked him immediately. It was hard not to appreciate the young man whose ideas could be called almost revolutionary. He was a fervent believer in German unification and a liberal constitution. He and his brother had spent time at the liberal Belgian court, and the idea of a constitutional monarchy appealed to them. Secretly, Richard chalked up another point for young Prince Albert.

In the process of the evening, the Duke and both of his sons waltzed with Ellen, while poor Richard had to ask the Duchess for the favour of a dance. She dance surprisingly well, however, and she thawed considerably during the few minutes spent dancing. Richard almost reconsidered his negative impression when, at the end of the dance, she turned without a word and left him standing. He could only console himself with the sympathetic and loving look he received from Ellen.

-------

Richard and Ellen left Coburg two days later, after another tea with his Highness and after they had a chance to spend an hour with the young Prince, walking in the baroque garden of the palace. When they finally sat in their coach and composed their report for HM Government and the King, they found only good things to report on Prince Albert and his brother, and they commented mostly favourably on the Duke.

They spent the first night in the small town of Selb which was and still is a major centre of China manufacturing (it was called porcelain, though). Ellen bought a number of magnificent China statues and vases, mostly as gifts for their friends at home.

They returned to Munich via Regensburg, on the River Danube, where they spent the next night. They followed that river upstream until they reached Ingolstadt, and from there, it was a long day's journey back to Munich.



-------

Chapter 40: A Deplorable Accident


For the next two days, Richard and Ellen stayed at home and took the time to play with their children. They took strolls in Munich's 'English Garden', a public park. A few times they sat with the natives in one of the large beer gardens, in the shade of old chestnut trees, and enjoyed the light beer that was served.

Ellen met with Marie once, to tell her of the visit to Coburg. She found her cousin in bad spirits. On Ellen's insistence, Marie told her the reason. Lucien was away, almost every night.

"I should be used to it, by now, but it's worse than ever. Zere is zis young man, a poet, and Lucien is crazy about 'im. What if zis comes out? It will be a terrible scandal."

"Poor Marie! How can he do this to you!" Ellen commiserated with her cousin. "Is there no reasoning with him?"

Marie shook her head. "I spoke to 'im ze day before yesterday, and 'e said I should take a lover myself, 'e wouldn't mind. Zat was ze worst. 'e does not care for me in ze least!"

"And will you?" Ellen asked, quite matter-of-factly.

"Will I take a lover? No! I am married to Lucien."

"But, Marie, darling, will you forego love all your life?"

"Love, again?" Marie smiled bitterly, but then she reconsidered. "I should not mock you, Ellen. You mean well, and I admire you for it. I just cannot believe in love myself. My mozzer claimed she loved me, yet she never finds a kind word for me. My 'usband pledged 'is love, and now 'e leaves me alone to be wizz zese men. Love! I'll settle for an 'usband 'o comes 'ome at night."

There was not much Ellen could do to cheer up her cousin, but that evening she spoke with Richard, under the seal of confidentiality. For once, she could surprise her husband.

"That's something I would have never suspected," he said. "I suppose, it won't help if I spoke with him?"

Ellen shook her head.

"Don't, darling! He may even challenge you."

Richard nodded.

"Poor Marie. I hope nothing will come out."

-------

Richard and Ellen were distracted from this affair by the birth of Maddalena's child, a girl. The birth took over fifteen hours, and Ellen stayed with Maddalena the whole time. The young woman was completely exhausted by the time the infant uttered her first cry, and it fell to Ellen to present the daughter to her father. James Palmer was overwhelmed with the sight of his first child, and he spent the evening, sitting at his sleeping wife's side, and in a daze, while Ellen saw to it that the new wet nurse took over the feeding of the tiny girl.

Over the next days, everything revolved around Maddalena and her new daughter. Not surprisingly, the young couple decided to name the girl after James' mother, Moira. The name Filomena Palmer just did not sound right, according to Maddalena.

Summer was in full swing, now, and the temperatures rose steadily. Repeatedly, King Ludwig invited his court to the Nymphenburg Palace, for summernight concerts. More often than not, Marie de Perigneaux appeared alone at those functions, excusing her husband with a variety of explanations. It was an open secret now, at the Royal Court, that the French envoy and his lovely wife were sailing in troubled waters, as the Archduke Josef worded it. Most courtiers held Lucien de Perigneaux for a fool, as did the King, for neglecting a beautiful and charming wife.

By contrast, Richard was strongly in the King's favour. The coveted railroad engine, "The Eagle", had arrived in over one-hundred parts, and a local machine shop was busy assembling it. The King hoped to be able to open the first railroad connection by the end of 1835, and Richard was already invited to sit with King Ludwig in the first carriage. Robert Stephenson must have been happy, too, for the price of the engine, £1140, was a steep one, Richard found.

Richard and Ellen had attended yet another concert, and had returned shortly after midnight, when they heard a coach draw up in front of their palais. The door bell sounded, and a very sleepy Hogget announced his Grace, the Count Hohenstedt.

"Milord, milady, I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you at this hour, but there has been a deplorable accident, involving His Excellency, the Conte de Perigneaux."

Ellen gasped, and Richard, too, felt the shock.

"I am afraid, His Excellency met with a fatal accident," Hohenstedt continued. "I was alerted to this terrible affair only a half hour ago, and I have no reliable information yet. The Secretary for Foreign Affairs is trying to alert the Prince Wassilij, as the Doyen of the Diplomatic Corps. Would it trouble your Lordship much to accompany me to the scene of the accident. His Majesty's prime minister instructed me to conduct the investigation of the accident, and I would appreciate your presence as witness. It seems that the affair may be delicate in nature."

"Certainly, Count," Richard replied. "Does the Comtesse know already?"

"No, milord. I admit, I was hoping for milady to break the sad news to her."

Ellen had a sinking feeling. What could she tell Marie?

"Can you tell me what happened, Count?" she asked.

"It seems, His Excellency frequented a house of less than stellar repute, milady. I beg your forgiveness. When that establishment was searched by the police, His Excellency obviously tried to escape exposure, and he tried to jump from a window on the third floor to the balcony of a neighbouring house. He was found dead in the alleyway between the buildings. That is all I know, so far."

"Can you join the Count in his carriage, Richard? I shall wake Marie and tell her," Ellen sighed.

-------

Richard felt ridiculous in his festive clothing, walking around the brothel, with the Count and Prince Wassilij. Lucien de Perigneaux' body was still lying there, his head bent at an unnatural angle. Richard had not seen many dead people in his life, but he had no doubt that Lucien de Perigneaux had died from a fall.

Prince Wassilij did not speak much at the scene. When the body was lifted into a carriage and transported away, however, he spoke up decisively.

"Count, Baron, we need to confer about this matter. I take it, the police officers were advised to keep their mouths shut about this incident?"

"The Captain of the Police admonished them strongly," Hohenstedt responded warily.

"The first order is to preserve the name of the Conte," the Prince continued. "And that of the Comtesse."

"What do you suggest, Prince?" Hohenstedt asked.

"A riding accident would be in keeping with the injuries. He came here on horseback?"

Hohenstedt pointed at a chestnut stallion that was still tied to a rail in the courtyard.

"Perfect!" the Prince exclaimed. "Now all we need is the report that his horse was found beside his body. Nobody knows why he was riding along this alley. All we can suspect is that he was thrown. As long as no mention is made of this police search, the French should be satisfied."

Richard was listening incredulously. The Prince casually fabricated a story as if this was a normal occurrence for a person in the diplomatic service. He could see a likely hole in this story, though.

"The person, the Conte was with, Count, couldn't he, I mean she, still implicate him?"

Richard blushed over his faux pas. But Count Hohenstedt was unfazed.

"The person was apprehended. He is a poet of sorts and wanted for insulting His Majesty. We shall expedite his trial. When he will have served his sentence, the affair will be all but forgotten."

"This sounds like we have a sensible explanation for this potentially embarrassing incident," Price Wassilij stated. "I trust you gentlemen can take it from here? Splendid. I shall send a letter of condolence to the Comtesse."

The Prince lifted his hat once more and turned. Within a minute, his coach was leaving. Richard and Count Hohenfeldt were left. The Count sighed.

"A most unpleasant business, to be sure. I shall set everything into motion and then notify his Majesty. Should I give you transport to your residence or to the Perigneaux'?"

"I trust my wife is still with her cousin. I would appreciate if you were to bring me there. I can inform the Comtesse of the result of our informal inquest."

Hohenfeldt shook his head.

"Please, convey my sympathy to the Comtesse. Perhaps we can shield her from all this unsavoury business?"

"I am afraid, she may suspect the true circumstances."

They climbed into Hohenstedt's coach, and for the next minutes the two men sat silently while the carriage rumbled over the cobbled streets.

At the Perigneaux residence, Richard could see lights in the downstairs windows. He bade his farewell to the Count and alighted from the coach. When he rapped the door, a distraught servant opened and led him to the salon.

Marie looked quite composed. When Richard entered, she rose to greet him, and, from close up, he detected some redness around her eyes.

"My heartfelt condolences, Marie," Richard offered.

"Thank you, mon cher! Zis is so nice of you to come and look after me and poor Lucien."

"You are kin to us, Marie," Richard reminded her. "It is understood that we help you."

"Zank you, neverzeless. Did Lucien suffer much?"

"No, I can tell you for sure that he did not suffer at all. He was thrown off his horse and his neck broke."

"Zrown off 'is 'orse?" Her tone of disbelief was hard to miss.

"That is what Prince Wassilij, Count Hohenfeldt, and I concluded. A most deplorable accident, probably due to his reckless riding."

Marie's hand touched Richard's cheek in a spontaneous gesture of gratitude.

"Zank you for sparing me ze disgrace!"

"What disgrace, Marie?"

Before his eyes, Marie crumbled.

"What woman am I when I drove my 'usband into ze arms of men?"

Richard was dumbfounded.

"Marie, this had nothing to do with you. This is how Lucien was. It does not say anything about you. You are certainly attractive, no, you are beautiful, and you are charming. Were it not for the fact that I am married to an equally beautiful woman, I would see Lucien's death as my chance."

Marie turned to Ellen.

"You are so lucky, Cousin," she said with a wry smile. She shrugged. "I had better find some mourning clothes. Will you two assist me a little in the next days? Lucien handled all the financial dealings."

"Richard can help you with that," Ellen assured her cousin. "He owns a bank, after all. As for the arrangement for the funeral, you can rely on me. I have handled such matters in the past."

"I 'ave to write to ze Foreign Minister. Zey must send a ... Replacement? Is zat right?"

"A charge d'affaires, most likely," Richard agreed.

He could already envision how this affair would keep him busy for weeks to come. He did not mind to help Ellen's cousin; in fact, he liked Marie. He resented the reckless way Lucien de Perigneaux had imperilled his wife's reputation, her standing, and possibly, her livelihood, with his foolhardiness. He had heard rumours, in the last months, that Lucien had also run up a large gambling debt. Marie might be in for an unpleasant surprise.

"Marie, you must also contact your husband's bank house, to get an idea of your financial situation. Did Lucien own this house?"

Marie nodded.

"Yes, zis is our 'ouse. Lucien sold 'is Chateau near Périgueux, to buy a suitable residence 'ere. 'e still owns land in the Aquitaine. Why do you ask, Richard?"

"I have only heard rumours, but people say that your husband gambled and lost heavily."

Marie closed her eyes briefly and paled.

"Mon dieu! 'e really left be'ind a mess, didn't 'e?"

"I can act for you, Marie. If somebody approaches you with a claim, send them to me. I have ways to ascertain the claims. Be prepared for people who will try to take advantage of your situation."

Marie nodded. "It seems I 'ave to learn a lot," she sighed.

-------

In spite of the cover up, all of Munich's courtiers knew the true circumstances of Lucien de Perigneaux' death. Consequently, only the close friends and the morbidly curious showed at the funeral. King Ludwig bowed out, claiming a stomach ailment. There was a bona fide epidemic of digestive problems, as many of those invited claimed to be indisposed.

There were few positive surprises. The Archduke Josef volunteered to speak the eulogy, and no hidden meanings could be construed into his words. Afterwards, he offered Marie his sympathy and his support.

Ellen and Richard, however, shouldered most of the burden to take care of Marie. Richard's misgivings with regard to Lucien de Perigneaux' financial status proved to be well founded. As far as Richard could tell, there was little outstanding debt, but the palais Marie lived in was already heavily mortgaged.

There was one outstanding gambling debt from two days before his death, but the debtor, a Colonel of the Bavarian Artillery, refused to hear about this, clearly afraid of being connected to Lucien de Perigneaux.

There was another case, where a tailor claimed a debt for a new coat. However, Lucien de Perigneaux had been meticulous in his book keeping, and Richard found a receipt of payment for the same item. Needless to say, the tailor landed before a judge and spent a month in prison to put a damper on his overdeveloped sense of business.

When the Oktoberfest opened again, in mid-September, a charge d'affaires had indeed arrived to replace Lucien. The man, a Marquis de Tezier, offered to buy the Perigneaux' house and to satisfy the mortgages, and Marie was happy to have a buyer. Richard negotiated the sale and cleared two-thousand Guilders for Marie.

While she was thus by no means broke, she wisely decided to preserve what money she had until Richard had a chance to evaluate the earnings from Lucien's estates in the Aquitaine. Richard saw to it that the bulk of Marie's fortune was forwarded to London, to be invested securely. They agreed that she would move in with Richard and Ellen temporarily until she decided about her future.

Of course, Richard and Ellen attended the opening of the Oktoberfest, with the King and his court. They went a few times more, but not daily as they had the year before. In consequence, the effect on Ellen's waistline were less severe, too.

Marie, supposedly in deep mourning, was glad of the excuse to stay at home. In Ellen's absence, she had the free run of the nursery, spending hours with little Siobhan. Marie never seemed happier than in the presence of the baby girl. Mrs. Painter, the wet nurse, was glad, too, as Marie's presence allowed her some free time.

Under the need to speak English daily and exclusively, Marie began a conscious effort to properly pronounce the 'th' and 'h' consonants. She was not universally successful, yet, and her tendency to swallow the last consonants of a word remained. She was proud of her progress, though.

She rarely left the house. If she did, she had to wear the strict black of a widow, complete with hat and veil, and she nearly suffocated in the still hot sun of the early Autumn. In the privacy of Richard's and Ellen's home, a black dress was her only concession to her widow's status. It was not form-hiding, though, as would have been proper, but accentuated her slender yet womanly build. She also wore her hair open, at home, and the cascade of blonde tresses rivalled Ellen's.

More than once, Richard caught himself admiring his wife's cousin, and he always felt guilty. With her finely tuned perception of her husband's feelings, Ellen noticed this. She was not feeling jealous, though. She knew that it was Marie's likeness to her that attracted Richard, and she could not fault him for having eyes in his head.

Ellen was glad for the companionship of Marie. Maddalena, in the first delirious months of motherhood, only had eyes for her daughter, and barely took notice of her husband, let alone her friends.

Melissa and Colleen were now firm parts of Munich's Bohème. Among the artists and art lovers, they felt at home and accepted. Melissa had rented an atelier in the village of Schwabing, close to the new buildings that housed the King's art collections. The King had even commissioned a painting with Melissa, of the Queen Therese, and he was so satisfied with Melissa's work that she had to paint another portrait, this time of the Prince Maximilian.

Colleen seemed to live in Melissa's shadow. At least that was what their acquaintances thought. In reality, Colleen was gaining popularity as a serious writer. She had brought her impressions of Wuerzburg and Munich to paper, and she had sent them to her agent in London. He showed them to various editors, and, as a result, Colleen saw her short essays published in The Times more than once. In his letters, her father wrote her of the universal praise for her observations.

This left Ellen with Marie as her main companion, and the cousins spent most of their days together, especially when Richard was busy. Marie thawed more and more, telling Ellen about her upbringing. Her father drowned during the crossing of the River Beresina, in November 1812, when Marie was barely three years old, and she grew up with her mother Solange and her brother Lucas. While Ellen learned much about Marie's early life, her adolescent years and the circumstances of her marriage with Lucien de Perigneaux remained in the dark. What she gathered was that Marie had no intention to ever see her mother and her brother again, but the reasons were initially hidden from Ellen.

This changed on an afternoon in October. Richard was gone early to meet with a group of German veterans of Wellington's Spanish Peninsula campaign, armed with a hand-written letter from the The Duke in which he praised their valour and conduct. He expected to be back late.

After lunch, Marie felt tired, as she had tended little Siobhan during the night before, and she went to her bedroom for a much-needed nap. Ellen stayed in the living room, composing a letter to Lucy. A little while later, Richard surprisingly returned, explaining that the meeting with the veterans had been a short affair.

With Marie seemingly out of the way, and their children under the care of the staff, Richard and Ellen retired to their own bedroom. Buttons flew as they hastily removed their clothes, and Ellen gasped when she saw Richard's massive erection. It had been weeks since their last daytime tryst, and they were determined to enjoy each other to the fullest.

First, Ellen took care of her husband's raging erection, using her lips and her soft bosom to caress the straining shaft. Ellen had become adept at this sort of intimacy, and she had Richard spurting all over her chest in less than five minutes.

Now, it was Richard's turn. With his mouth and fingers he began to caress Ellen's body, from her head and neck, down to her calves. Long before he focussed his ministrations on her breasts or her moist centre, he had Ellen moaning and squealing. Once he shifted his attention to her moist opening, she transformed into a moaning and quivering mound of flesh. At least thrice, she clamped her thighs around his head and arched up her hips, when peaks of lust washed over her, until she pushed his face away from her.

After a few moments to gather her breath, Ellen assumed a kneeling position on the bed, offering her swollen opening to Richard's assault. In a flash, Richard knelt behind her, aligned his member with her opening, and pushed deep inside her slippery canal. Ellen pushed back against him in rhythm with his pounding, and the slap-slap of their feverish coupling filled the room.

It was in the midst of their frenzied copulation that the door opened.

"Ellen, dear, are you all..."

The rest of the question died on Marie's lips as she took in the sight in front of her. Awaking from her nap, she had looked for Ellen downstairs and not found her. Searching upstairs, she had mistaken Ellen's moans and cries for signs of distress, and in her desire to help, she had barged into the bedroom. Now, all she could do for a few seconds was to stare at the massive rod of flesh that pounded into Ellen's core, while Ellen pushed back against the intruder, her breast swaying back and forth. It seemed impossible to Marie that the blood-engorged organ did not rip Ellen apart, yet, she even urged her husband on to penetrate her deeper.

The blood rushed into Marie's face, and then, into her loins, as she watched Richard collapse over Ellen's back, while Ellen wailed loudly in the throes of her final peak of lust. The two lovers had not even heard her entry, and Marie heard the confessions of love they exchanged. She knew she had to leave, but she stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes from the naked bodies.

Then, Ellen looked up and squealed when she saw Marie. Her cousin's reaction finally jolted Marie back into reality. Covering her face with her hands in mortal embarrassment, she fled from the bedroom and into her own room.



-------

Chapter 41: Morality Issues


The sound of their bedroom door when it slammed shut after the fleeing Marie, alerted Richard, too.

"Who was that? Tony?" he asked, slightly worried.

"No, it was Marie. She must have been standing there for a while, now that I think of it. Oh, my! We must have been a sight for her!"

"What was she doing here?"

"I suppose, she came to look after me. We were not exactly mute. She probably feared I was under attack." Ellen looked over her shoulder. "Not so far from the truth, either!"

Suddenly, a giggle bubbled up in her, and she shook silently.

"Oh, dear. I'll be blushing six shades of red each time she'll look at me, for weeks to come. Richard, darling, it was still wonderful!"

"Talk about blushing!" he answered, in mock exasperation. "How shall I look her into the eyes? She must hold me for a brute now."

"She certainly saw you at your best," Ellen giggled. "Watch out for her. She may want to sample you once she comes over her shock."

"Ellen, you are naughty!" Richard chided, but Ellen could not be fooled; she felt his member stiffen and swell inside her.

"Who is being naughty? I only have to speak about her, and you become hard again," she laughed. Then she turned mock-serious. "I suppose, I'll have to talk to her and see how deeply she was shocked by what she saw."

Richard disengaged from Ellen and sat back on his haunches. Ellen rolled on her back, treating Richard to a very enticing view.

"You better dress, lest she'll flee from our house," he remarked. "That is, if she is not predisposed towards her own gender."

A pillow landed in his face, and Ellen swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Naked, she walked to her wardrobe and dressed in a dressing gown. The heavy silk accentuated rather than hid her forms. For a moment, she considered getting dressed properly, but then she shrugged.

"I'll assuage Marie and be back," she told Richard and kissed him.

There was no answer when she knocked on Marie's door, and for a moment, she feared that Marie had fled the house. Slowly, she opened the door. Marie lay face-down on her bed. Cautiously, Ellen approached the bed and sat down at Marie's side. With her right hand, she gently touched Marie's shoulder. Marie stiffened at the touch.

"I'm so sorry, Ellen," she sobbed into the sheets. "I did not mean to spy!"

"Ssh! We know you didn't. It was just an accident. You didn't know Richard was back, and we did not think that you might be awake. I must have been quite noisy."

Astounded at the casual way Ellen reacted, Marie turned.

"Did it hurt much?" she asked.

"Hurt?" Ellen asked back, momentarily at a loss.

"Zat-that thing!" Marie elaborated. "It must have hurt you terribly. Luc's was much smaller, and it hurt so much, I always screamed."

Ellen understood, understood that Marie was rather innocent, had to be, the way Lucien was disposed.

"No, Marie, darling. It never hurts. Only once, the first time, there was a little pain, but that was short. No, for me, it is the most wonderful feeling. Why wasn't Lucien more careful with you? Why would he cause you pain? He never stroke me as that kind of a man."

"Lucien?"

First, Marie was nonplussed. Then she turned ashen as she realised that her most dreadful secret was out in the open. In the same moment, Ellen made the connection. Luc, as in Lucas, Marie's brother.

"Your brother, Marie? How could he?"

Marie did not answer. Her face was almost purple and she held her head bowed in the shame she felt. Sensing her cousin's feelings, Ellen wrapped her arms around Marie's shoulders and pulled the bowed head against her chest.

"You poor lamb," Ellen whispered softly, while she held the mortified woman tight. "Didn't anybody help you?"

Marie shook her head, no.

"He first did it one night when Mozzer was gone. I woke up, and he was on top of me already. I was scared and it hurt. The second time, I fought him, and he hit me, and he twisted my ... nipples? ... until I gave in. He loved to hurt me.

"When Mozzer found out, she said I seduced him. She called me une salope - a trollop! To get me out of ze house, she arranged the wedding wizz Lucien. She knew Lucien would not care. She was good friends wizz his fazzer, and she knew he preferred his male friends."

In her emotion, Marie's English suffered.

"That's why you never wrote to them?"

Marie nodded. Suddenly, she looked up and into Ellen's eyes.

"Are you not ... repulsed?"

Ellen understood Marie's fear. If this came out, Marie would be shunned. The stigma on her would be stronger than the one attached to her brother, the perpetrator.

"My dear Marie, if anything, I feel sympathy for you. How long did this go?"

"Zzree - three years. It started when I was fifteen."

"What happened after you married Lucien?"

Marie shook her head.

"Nozzing. Lucien told him, he'd kill him if he ever touched me again. Lucas is - was - afraid of Lucien."

"Going back to Toulouse is not really an option for you, then," Ellen said. "You won't have to, anyway."

"You are so nice to me, both of you! I'm so sorry that I ... interrupted you."

Marie blushed again. Ellen gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"You didn't. We were finished already when we noticed you. I'm sorry, though, for stirring up those terrible memories."

Marie pasted a weak smile on her face.

"I should have knocked."

"Marie, I understand you much better now. I know now why you do not believe in love. How can you? But darling, please, even if you cannot believe in love, at least allow for its existence. Believe me, there are men out there for you, men who will love you and cherish you. Do not hide in your clam shell."

Marie hugged Ellen back with feeling.

"When I see you and Richard..." Marie realised the double meaning, "when I see how you care for each other, it makes me wish for somebody like Richard. But, when I ... you know ... saw you ... in bed, and he was so big ... I am terribly scared. It must hurt!"

"Marie, what I will tell you now has to stay between us."

Marie nodded.

"When I first saw Richard, in his aroused state, I had the same fears. He is big there. I tested my opening with my fingers, and not even one of them fit without hurting. I asked an experienced woman for advice, and she showed me that I had to be aroused, too. Have you ever played with your treasure box?"

"My treasure box?" Marie asked, at a loss over Ellen's euphemism.

"I mean, between your legs, girl!" Ellen expostulated, feeling some embarrassment.

"Oh, that..."

Marie blushed deeply and nodded.

"Have you ever felt naughty when you were out riding on horse back?"

This time, the nod was more vehement.

"And afterwards, didn't you feel moist and open, down there?"

"Why are you asking me all zese zings, Ellen?"

"Because when you feel naughty, when you are moist, you can easily push in your fingers. Or something else, like a man's member. When you are ready, it will fit. Marie, when you saw us, Richard and me, did you feel naughty?"

"Ellen!" Marie protested, but her pink face told the truth.

"Dear heart, there is nothing wrong! This is how we were created. This is what helps us feel the love we were made to feel."

"But Richard is your husband!" Marie blurted. "It is wrong for me to feel ... naughty."

The last word was whispered. Ellen smiled at her cousin.

"Your head knows that," Ellen said, pointing at Marie's forehead. Then she pointed at Marie's lap. "Your treasure box doesn't know. Don't get me wrong, I would never allow anything to happen between you and Richard. You are far too beautiful to give you an opening. But I cannot fault you for an innocent reaction."

Marie looked at Ellen dubiously.

"You don't mind if I have ... thoughts?"

Ellen laughed brightly.

"Of course not. I can't hear them. I have thoughts, too, and that's why I have to leave you. Don't fear for me in the next hour if you hear certain sounds."

Back in their bedroom, she cuddled against Richard who had made use of her absence by taking a short nap.

"I need to find a man for my cousin."

Richard chuckled. "Oh dear, not again. Do you have somebody in mind? Don't forget, she still has almost a year of mourning."

"I'm not talking about a husband, my dear Richard. I am talking about a paramour. Somebody to teach her about her needs."

"Leave it be, Ellen. Munich is far too small."

"You are probably right. Richard, can you hug me? What Marie told me about her youth is just terrible. Her brother must be a most despiccable person. Darling, would it be much to ask if she could stay with us? She must never be forced to return to her family!"

"Do I need to know more?"

"I can't tell you more, Richard. I cannot betray Marie's trust." She kissed the hand on her shoulder. "Please, understand."

Richard nodded. They left it at that, cuddling silently instead, each in his own thoughts.

-------

Melissa Martin hummed under her breath. She was in an exceptionally good mood. She was now one of the King's favourite artists, and he commissioned painting after painting. She was mostly doing portraits of members of the extended royal family, while the King's other favourite, Ludwig Stiegler, was in charge of the King's harem. That was the nickname for the collection of portraits featuring beautiful women.

Melissa had been allowed only one entry into that exclusive gallery, and that was a sitting pose of Ellen, in the park of the Nymphenburg Palace. Stiegler himself had persuaded the King, pointing out that Melissa could capture Ellen's beauty more naturally, due to their personal relationship.

All this had made Melissa popular, and she had to hire a young painter who painted the backgrounds for her. She also employed an apprentice who kept the atelier in order, and a maid for the cleaning. Still, she had to turn down some commissions. Melissa Martin was indeed happy with the way her life had played out in recent years.

For the next spring, the King had even invited her to Italy, where he had a palais in Tuscany. He wanted paintings of rustic scenes from there, and for Melissa, the thought of visiting Italy was quite exciting. Colleen was ecstatic, too, for she was included in the invitation. Both young women spent hours with Maddalena, learning the basics of Italian.

All this contributed to Melissa's good mood, and she looked benevolently at her model, young Evi, the waif. Melissa had 'borrowed' her from Ellen, to pose for a commissioned work, entitled "The Washer". Consequently, Evi's was wearing a coarse linen dress, with a low neckline. Her hair was tied back, but a few strands had been freed to frame her face, while she stood over the laundry bucket, ostensibly working the laundry.

The girl had a natural grace and she posed almost instinctively. Melissa enjoyed working with her, and in her mind, she contemplated using her as model more often. Colleen had expressed some misgivings, but Melissa had been able to convince her friend that the fifteen year-old waif was no danger for their relationship.

A week later, the finished painting was unveiled during a matinée at her sponsor's home. There was the usual polite applause from the invited guests, but several visitors inspected the painting at close range, and Melissa could hear admiring remarks. She knew one of those men, a fellow painter, named Friedrich Lummer who approached her after a long inspection of Evi, the washer.

"Wonderful, just wonderful, my dear Melissa!" he exclaimed. "Where did you find that girl? She is perfect!"

"She is a maid in a good friend's household."

"Do you think, she may want to pose for other artists, too?" Lummer asked hopefully.

Melissa was guarded.

"She is very young. I would have to ask her employer. She may insist on a chaperone."

Lummer made a negligent gesture.

"That is all the same. I paint girls, nothing else. There is quite a market for such paintings."

"I will ask and then send you a message. I don't believe I have your address, though?"

Lummer held out a visiting card and thanked her. Before he left, Melissa saw him staring at Evi's image once more.

Indeed, Ellen saw no reason to keep the girl Evi from earning some easy money by posing for a painter on her free days. Sadie volunteered to accompany her friend, to ascertain that nothing improper happened. Apparently, Lummer worked quickly, and from what Sadie could see, he only painted Evi's head before a park-like backdrop. The fee Evi received was not high therefore, but it was easily earned money, nonetheless.

A few weeks later, Melissa was approached during a matinée by an older gentleman she had seen before.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Martin! I can't say how much I admire your work!"

Melissa smiled at the man and acknowledged the flattery with a slight curtsey.

"I saw your painting of that young girl in Liebmann's house the other day." He meant the "Washer" painting. "It's tasteful and yet innocently exciting. What a difference to those vulgar images Lummer has produced of her!"

Melissa was alarmed immediately.

"What do you mean by that, my dear Herr Lunde?"

"Well, those paintings he made of that girl, wearing only the thinnest shift and showing her forms in a most inappropriate way. Only the depraved would bid for such a painting!"

"But where did you see it?"

"In Ramsauer's gallery." The man stopped, noticing the anger in Melissa's eyes. "Did I say something wrong, Mademoiselle?"

"No, my dear, I thank you for alerting me."

Melissa stayed for only a few more minutes. She collected Colleen, and together they rented a cab to bring them to the gallery owned by one Erwin Ramsauer.

They did not have to look long for the painting in question. The throng of elderly men surrounding it was a give away. The men blushed and grinned sheepishly upon noticing the two women, and they made room. Melissa took one look at the painting on display, and she felt anger wash over her. There was the innocent-looking face of Evi, but below that, Lummer had painted the barely clothed body of another adolescent girl, her budding breast seemingly only covered by the flimsy material of a shift.

"Ah, Melissa! How good of you to come!"

That was Lummer. He even smiled at her. Melissa pointed at the canvas.

"What is that?"

"Well, I painted the young girl. Isn't she lovely?"

"But, she never posed for you, clothed like that!"

"Oh, I only took her face, her head. For the rest I have another girl. She is ugly as the sin, but she has this body! I cannot paint enough of these motifs!"

"But ... you portrayed Evi wearing next to nothing. She never posed liked this!"

"That's artistic freedom, my dear! I paint her as I see her before my inner eye," came the smug reply.

Melissa was still fuming when she and Colleen arrived back in her atelier. For more than an hour, she paced up and down, while a bemused Colleen watched her. In the end, Colleen was the one who channelled Melissa's anger into a productive direction.

"This really doesn't help, darling," she said softly. "You must expose him to the art community. Alert the models, talk to the gallery owners."

"You are right, Colly, as always," Melissa answered, breathing deeply, to control her anger. Then, a malicious smile spread over her features. "I have a better idea, though!"

For the rest of the day and into the night, Melissa worked like a woman possessed. In the end, she woke Colleen who had fallen asleep.

"What do you think?"

Colleen stared at the paper in front of her eyes. It was an etching, a technique in which Melissa rarely ever dabbled. It showed a barely clad girl, seen from the back, as she posed for a painter. Of the painter, the etching showed a face with a lecherous grin, sticking out from behind a canvas. It also showed one elbow. The way the elbow was held, gave the overpowering impression that the artist was committing the sin of Onan, while nothing overtly shown would raise the ire of the censors. The subtitle read: "The Artist Lummer Hard At Work".

"You did an etching?" Colleen asked, surprised.

"That way I can print copies and distribute them," Melissa stated grimly. "What do you think of it?"

"It's brilliant, darling. It's suggestive but not in a way that would bring you in conflict with the censors. My darling Melissa, even when you are vengeful, you are superb!"

The next morning, Melissa visited the office of the editor of a newspaper she and Colleen knew and befriended. She showed him her etching and watched his face undergo the changes from surprise, to amusement, to resolve.

"You want this printed? What is your price?" the man asked with glittering eyes.

"You can have the plate for free. I only want this printed."

The editor raised his eyebrows.

"Is there a reason?"

Quickly, Melissa related the story of Evi posing clothed and appearing almost naked on the canvas. The editor sighed.

"Lummer is the worst, but there are others almost as bad. You say the King likes your work?"

"Yes, he does. As a matter of fact, he invited me to join his entourage next spring."

"Can you get him to sign this?"

He handed her a printed sheet of paper. It was a Royal Exemption to the censorship rules. Being an art-loving King, Ludwig often overruled his own censors. Melissa nodded.

"I'll try to see his Majesty's secretary. You'll have this by tonight."

-------

Two days later, Melissa and Colleen were entertaining friends and admirers in their atelier when the door burst open, and Lummer burst in, waving a copy of the newspaper.

"This is an outrage! How could you portrait me in this way? I never did this. I only deliver what the clients wish."

Melissa smiled coldly at him, while all the guests listened in intently.

"Why, my dear Lummer, this is artistic freedom. Don't you remember? I only portrayed you the way I see you before my inner eye."

Lummer made like he wanted to attack Melissa, but two of Melissa's male friends seized him and helped him leave the house.

The story spread quickly in the art community, and the editor had to reprint the newspaper issue to satisfy the exorbitant demand. The gallery owner Ramsauer quietly removed the paintings with Evi's head, and Friedrich Lummer left Munich, to practise his art elsewhere.



-------

Chapter 42: Family Business


With December approaching, Richard and Ellen prepared for another journey. The opening of the first steam railroad in Germany was to happen on December 7th, in Nuremberg, and Richard and Ellen were invited, not only to attend, but to sit in the royal carriage with he King, the Prime Minister, and the mayors of Nuremberg and Fuerth.

It was a festive affair, with a military band playing and children singing. King Ludwig personally opened the steam valve that set the Eagle locomotive in motion. The train started along the four-and-a-half miles of track, and when they reached Fuerth, there was yet another crowd and another military band.

King Ludwig was very pleased when the people along the track cheered him, and for a day, the citizens of both cities could use the train for free, while the King and his court adjoined to the Nuremberg castle for a celebratory dinner.

Two days later, after two long and cold days spent on a coach, Richard and Ellen returned to Munich. They knew that it would be their last Christmas in Bavaria, as the Foreign Office had already notified Richard about his successor, Lord Willoughby, who would arrive in early summer.

The mail they received also contained letters from Eleanor and from Old Lady Lambert. While the latter seemed to be in good health and awaiting Harriet and Anthony Carter's impending return from the Mediterranean, Eleanor's letter troubled Ellen. There was no cheerfulness in her letter, and she complained about Antonio being demanding of her and short of temper. Ellen could not imagine that the Antonio she knew could ever be short tempered around Eleanor, and she wrote back letters to Lady Lambert and Doña Maria, asking them for more information.

The Christmas this year was not at all like the one a year before. It had been cold, very cold, the last days, but on Christmas Eve, a drizzling rain fell on the cold ground, freezing immediately and creating a solid layer of ice on everything. After testing the frozen ground outside, Richard decided to cancel the planned attendance of the church service. There was no use in breaking bones, and riding the coach with its iron tyres would be too dangerous.

They spent the holidays holed up at home, and Ellen had to admit that there was some merit to a day spent without outside visits.

Marie had overcome her embarrassment, being around Richard. At first, after the incident when she barged into their bedroom and found Richard and Ellen in flagranti delicto, she was terribly shy around Richard, blushing constantly and mumbling unintelligibly. Fortunately, in the enforced closeness over the Christmas days, she relaxed and returned to being almost her old self.

The invitation to the royal New Year's Ball brought back sad memories. This year, Marie had to stay at home, and Ellen felt lost among the other guests. It was a stiff and uninspired affair, anyway. This year, there was no motto, and all the guests arrived in their most formal attire. The gaiety of the year before was notably absent.

Richard and Ellen left shortly after the New Year had been greeted with splendid fireworks. When they arrived at their palais, Marie was still up. She had spent the evening with James and Maddie Palmer. Richard and Ellen toasted the New Year with their friends before they finally went to bed.

They had to get up early, to attend the reception at the Archduke Josef's palais. Isabelle Delatour was there, too. She had lasted longer in the Archduke's favour than any woman before her, and Ellen had heard whispered rumours that the beautiful actress was secretly engaged to the cousin of the Austrian King and German Emperor. The Archduke was his usual jovial self, and Ellen enjoyed the reception. Isabelle Delatour was the only person to ask Ellen how Marie was faring, and Ellen thanked her with a hug for her caring.

She saw some scandalised looks after that, but Ellen hardly cared. It was strange, she thought, but the impending end of Richard's appointment relieved her. She yearned to return to her previous life, with friends and relatives. She missed Lucy, she missed Richard's grandmother, and she missed her circle of friends. It would be good to return.

The next weeks were an endless sequence of balls, leading up to the climax of the carnival. Richard had to show presence at all these events, and Ellen valiantly danced through them, until she literally became sick and tired of waltzing.

This year, the arrival of the fasting time was a welcome event, and the Carters were able to rest and devote some time to their children. Not that Tony and Siobhan were hurting for loving care. Confined as she was to their home, Marie had spent a large part of her time with the children, and 'Aunt Marie' had become a fixture in their lives.

A heavy snow fall, late in the season, confined them to their house for almost three days, except for excursions into the garden. Tony would play in the snow for hours, building snow men, and he wore out the adults who supervised him.

The embassy did not require much time from Richard in those days. He spent much time with the children, but also with Ellen. He shared her disenchantment with the life they had in Munich, and they made plans for the time after their return to England.

Richard also spent an hour every day in a neighbouring barracks of the Royal Cavalry. He had found a worthy fencing partner in Count Hohenstedt's son, Major Friedrich Hohenstedt. Richard practised on the planche daily, often with the Major, but also with other officers. At first, they were astounded at the sword skills displayed by a civilian. For Richard, it was a sport he enjoyed, and it served to keep him from gaining weight over the winter.

In the week leading to Palm Sunday, snow was still covering the ground outside, and the temperatures still hovered around the freezing point. Nobody who could help it travelled in this weather, and the Carters were surprised to see a travel coach drive up to their front steps. The man who alighted from the coach wore the uniform of the French infantry.

Ellen had a chance to watch the man as he stood on the front stairs, rapping the door with his sword hilt. She had never seen the man before, but she knew him instantly. It had to be Marie's brother, Lucas de Chaunessy, as the French branch of the family called themselves. Ellen was relieved that Richard was at home to receive the visitor, and she joined her husband in the entrance hall.

"Good day, Sir!" the man said curtly. "Am I speaking with Lord Lambert?"

He spoke English as if its usage was soiling his mouth.

"Indeed, you are. With whom do I have the pleasure?"

The man smiled. It was curious for Ellen to realise that the man's features, so similar to Marie's and, probably, her own, were not attractive at all. Rather, the soft, woman-like face, exuded cruelty and malignancy.

"I am Capitaine Lucas de Chaunessy. I came to bring home my sister."

Richard bowed perfunctorily and turned to Ellen.

"Ellen, my dear, this is Marie's brother, obviously."

Ellen began to curtsey, but, noticing that the man did not show any signs of bowing, she kept her knees straight and nodded at the man with the most bored expression she could muster.

"May I trouble you to ask your cousin whether she wants to see her brother?"

"That is not a point of debate," Lucas de Chaunessy declared. "As I said before, I came to pick her up. I am the head of our family."

"While I won't question your latter statement, Monsieur, we shall have to see about the former," Richard replied. There was an edge to his voice now.

Ellen saw Lucas' face turn dark with anger, and an icy feeling of foreboding washed over her. She nodded, and turned to walk up the stairs.

Ellen found Marie, white as a sheet and close to tears. She clutched Ellen's hand imploringly.

"Please, don't make me go with him, Ellen. Please! I couldn't stand it. I'd rather kill myself, I swear!"

Ellen hugged her cousin.

"Never fear, Marie. Do you want to see him, or do you want me to tell him that you will not come with him."

Collecting all her strength, Marie braced herself.

"I will tell him myself."

She stood and wanted to start downstairs, but Ellen held her back.

"One moment, my dear," she said, going into her bedroom. From a drawer, she took the double-barrelled, rifled, percussion cap pistol, that Richard had once given to her when they travelled the Egyptian desert. Carefully, she inspected the seat of the firing caps and tucked the pistol away under the waistband of her skirt, behind her back. Then she rejoined Marie, and together they walked downstairs.

"Ah, there she is! Pack your things, Marie, I'm taking you home!"

Lucas de Chaunessy did not make the slightest effort at being polite.

"I'm not coming with you, Lucas. I have my own means, and I have decided to stay with Cousin Ellen and her husband."

Marie had thrust her chin forward, defying her erstwhile tormentor. Richard spoke up.

"You heard her, Monsieur de Chaunessy. Now I suggest you remove yourself from my house."

Rarely, if ever, had Ellen heard her husband speak in such a brusque way. She knew immediately that Richard was spoiling for an altercation, and she was worried. If Richard insulted the man, and his last remark could be construed as being insulting, then de Chaunessy, as the aggrieved, would chose the weapons in a duel. In a flash, she knew what to do. She decided to goad her cousin.

"My husband is right. You are wasting your time. Why would a woman of breeding want to follow an uncouth person such as you have just proven yourself to be?"

She flapped the red cloth, and the bull obligingly charged.

"How dare you speak up, you spawn of a traitorous hussy! Siobhan O'Shaunessy betrayed our family when she married an Englishman. You are nothing but a ... mongrel!"

"Out of my house!" Richard shouted, red with fury. "You will hear from me, and then we shall settle this!"

"Why not now?" de Chaunessy snarled, unsheathing his sword.

Richard was unarmed, and he retreated slightly, still staying between the intruder and the women. Ellen gripped the butt of the pistol and pulled it from her waistband. When she cocked it, the sound made Lucas de Chaunessy stop in his tracks. He stared at Ellen, a smile twitching in the corners of his mouth.

"Shall I just shoot him, or would you rather settle the affair yourself, my dear?" Ellen asked Richard with as much indifference as she could muster.

"I much rather address his insult in person," Richard replied, turning to their visitor. "Now remove yourself. I expect your seconds within a day!"

Lucas de Chaunessy appeared undecided. He was weighing his chances against Ellen, obviously. Just then, a voice sounded behind him.

"I distinctly heard his Lordship ordering you to leave, Sir! Should you decide not to comply with his Lordship's wishes, I shall feel compelled to shoot you."

That was the longest speech they had ever heard out of Hogget, Richard's servant. He was standing behind de Chaunessy, with a short musket levelled at the man. Caught in a potential crossfire, de Chaunessy sheathed his sword.

"You may expect my friend later today," he spat, turning to leave.

"Unlike you, he will be welcome," was Richard's parting shot.

While Lucas de Chaunessy was walking towards his coach, Ellen carefully uncocked her pistol.

"I should have shot him right away," she said, quite calmly. "When he pulled his sword on you, I should have killed him, the coward!"

"Ellen, you must allow me to protect your honour," Richard said softly. "It is my purpose in life to protect you, after all."

His words were rewarded with a kiss.

"My hero!" Ellen smiled, determined not to unnerve him with the worries she began to feel.

"But ... zere will be a duel!" Marie exclaimed. "What if Lucas ... prevails?"

"Not against Richard!" Ellen replied forcefully. "Your foul brother will meet his fate at the tip of my husband's sword."

She turned to Richard.

"Do not, for one second, contemplate to spare this man! I love you and need you. Marie needs you, too, for protection, far more than she needs to have a brother like that."

Richard watched his wife, and after an acknowledging nod to Hogget, he led both women into his study.

"I think it is time for me to hear the full truth. Marie, what are the issues between you and your brother? Ellen wouldn't tell me, but I need to know."

White as a sheet, Marie sat in a chair. She looked at Ellen for guidance.

"He has a right to know, Marie," Ellen said softly.

"Lucas violated me, when I was a girl. For three years, he took his liberties with me, until my mother found out and married me off to Lucien."

Marie sat, with her head bent, not daring to look into Richard's eyes. She did not see Richard's pained expression, but she heard the growl of his voice.

"You were right, Ellen. This man is not worth any consideration."

"Can you dictate the terms, dear?"

"Thanks to your interference, yes," Richard answered. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Marie looked up to see Ellen nod.

"I knew whereto the situation was heading, and I wanted him to insult me, so you would be the aggrieved party."

"I have a smart wife," Richard stated. "I better prepare for the inevitable, though. Can you pass the word for James, dear? Regardless of how you think of me, I should really update my will."

It took all of Ellen's willpower not to break down in this moment. With an effort, she mustered an answer.

"I know you are only being careful, dear, and I love you for it."

Taking Marie's arm, she left the study. Outside, she sat heavily on a chair, breathing away the tears that welled out of her eyes. Marie was at her side, helplessly stroking her cousin's head.

It was not for long, though, before Ellen stood, taking a determined breath. She had Sadie alert James Palmer, before she fled into the safety of her bedroom.

Only two hours later, the French charge d'affaires drove up in front of the house. Lucas de Chaunessy had recruited the French representative to act for him, since he had no acquaintances in Munich. The Marquis was uncomfortable with the situation, as he confessed, and he assured Richard that his involvement was purely ex officio.

Richard introduced the Major Hohenstedt and James Palmer who would act as his seconds. The former had been summoned by James. The men bowed courteously before they began the necessary negotiations.

"As the aggrieved party, Lord Lambert has decided on the sword as the weapon to settle the matter," Hohenstedt declared.

"I am most sorry," the Marquis interjected, "but my principal instructed me to act for ze aggrieved party."

"He intruded His Lordship's house and insulted the Lady Lambert. He can hardly feel aggrieved," James Palmer responded. "In addition, he threatened my client, who was unarmed, with a blank sword. A servant had to interfere with a musket to prevent an attack."

"Mon dieu!" the Marquis exclaimed. "I must apologise, Excellency. It seems my client, in 'is excitement, has remembered some of ze facts wrongly. Ze sword it is, zen. What would be a convenient time and place?"

"The Royal Cavalry's practice court should serve the purpose," Major Hohenstedt answered. "I can have the regimental surgeon in readiness, too."

The Marquis bowed. "Zis sounds like an admirable arrangement, Messieurs. Tomorrow at eight?"

This was what they agreed upon, and the Marquis bade his farewell, clearly uncomfortable with his role. For the rest of the day, on Major Hohenstedt's advice, Richard rested himself. He played with his children, aware of the fact that this afternoon could be their last memory of him.

He also went over the arrangements in case of his death. In particular, he arranged for protection for Ellen and Marie against any action Lucas de Chaunessy might take. His affairs thus settled, he joined his family at the dinner table.

After dinner, he sat with Ellen and, in a calm voice, explained all the arrangements. To his immense relief, Ellen did not fret over him like he had feared. Instead, she did everything to support him, and she even helped him select his clothes for the next morning.

When they finally went to bed, it was by unspoken agreement that Ellen undressed completely before she slipped under the covers. She felt the desperate urge to feel Richard inside her at least this one last time, and Richard had the equally strong desire to couple with Ellen.

This was nothing like their normal, often playful encounters. Ellen completely abandoned herself to him, offering her body and soul for him to sate himself. Lying on her back, she welcomed his thrusts, wrapping her arms and legs around him. After Richard finally spewed his seed deeply into Ellen's core, they remained coupled for minutes, kissing each other fiercely.

"You have to come back, Richard!" Ellen whispered, caressing his face with her hands. "If not for me, then for the child you just sired!"

"Do you think we... ?" Richard was slightly apprehensive.

"Yes, it felt to me like we will have another child. Don't worry about me. I am strong. If the worst happens, this child will be the final proof of our love. Richard, darling, whatever will happen, you are the one love of my life."

Unable to answer, Richard just kissed her. It was a long kiss, but finally Ellen ended it.

"You need to sleep, my love. We can continue all this tomorrow night. You will prevail, and I will give you a welcome fit for my hero. Sleep now."

Indeed, in Ellen's loving embrace, Richard found a few hours of sorely needed sleep.

He rose at six in the morning. Ellen herself got up to get shaving water for him, and she watched him as he scraped the stubble from his chin and cheeks. He was inordinately proud of his calm hand and of the pride that shone out of Ellen's eyes.

The breakfast he ate was light, as he had specified the day before, and the tea gave him just the right stimulation. At half past seven, Richard bade Ellen his farewell. Ellen proved to be of sturdy material. She hugged him, and kissed him without any tears. Instead, she stood on her toes to whisper into his ear.

"I shall prepare a real breakfast for when you will return. You are the better man, and the better man will prevail. Now go, and remember that I believe in you!"

Both James Palmer and Major Hohenstedt watched him sharply for signs of weakness, but Richard's steps were steady and he seemed at ease. It was odd. Richard remembered his first duel, with James Finney, so long ago. He had been calm, too, then, and confident. It was a good omen, he decided.

Lucas de Chaunessy, by contrast, looked the worse for wear. His cheeks and chin had not seen a razor, and his eyes were bloodshot and unsteady. It seemed farfetched, but de Chaunessy looked as if he had spent the night, drinking. It had to be a ruse, Richard decided.

The two opponents drew blank and fastened the wristbands of their sword hilts. Richard took a few swings, but he had worn this sword for over ten years, and he was completely comfortable with its balance.

On the sign of the seconds, the men faced off.

"Is there a chance for you gentlemen to reconcile?" Major Hohenstedt asked with a clear voice.

Both men shook their head. Richard saw a deep hatred in Lucas de Chaunessy's eyes.

"Then, I must remind you of the rules. The chosen weapon is the sword. You may engage in any way you please until one party is unable to defend himself. A fallen opponent must be allowed to rise to his feet before the duel commences again. Are those rules clear to both of you gentlemen?"

They nodded in unison.

"Gentlemen, cross your blades! En garde!"

Hohenstedt's sword came down hard and separated the crossed blades. The duel was on.

As Richard had suspected, de Chaunessy was in far better condition than he had let on. Still, it took only a few seconds for Richard to ascertain that his opponent was no real match for him. While de Chaunessy had strength and stamina, as well as solid sword skills, he possessed none of the refinements of a real swordsman. His attacks, fierce and precise as they were, were advertised well in advance by his body language.

This did not mean that Richard could be careless. He forced himself to concentrate, parrying the furious attacks, and waiting far an opening that had to come eventually. He had to be careful, too, not to render his opponent defenceless by accident. In consequence, Richard gave a display of fine defensive fencing, and some of the watching cavalry officers commented on the entertaining fight, praising their practice partner.

The applause for his opponent increased Lucas de Chaunessy's fury even more. His attacks became fiercer, but he also showed the first signs of fatigue. After one particularly reckless action, Richard mounted the first riposte. At the last moment, de Chaunessy twisted his upper body, and Richard's blade left a long gash instead of a piercing wound.

De Chaunessy bellowed in rage. The blood from the deep cut seeped his shirt immediately, and it must have caused him pain, too. All the witnesses concurred afterwards, though, that this was no excuse for his next action. With his left hand, de Chaunessy suddenly pulled a dirk from his boot, and he crowded Richard with two weapons.

Taking a few quick steps back, Richard assessed the new situation. Already, the seconds were drawing their own swords to step in, for de Chaunessy's action was an unforgivable violation of the terms of the fight. Clearly, Lucas de Chaunessy had to lock Richard's blade to make use of his dirk, and that was what Richard had to avoid.

Therefore, instead of parrying the next attack, Richard stepped forward and to the left, gripping de Chaunessy's raised sword hand with his left hand. Before his opponent could turn to stab him with the dirk, Richard ran his own blade cleanly through de Chaunessy's left chest. Too late, de Chaunessy tried to parry the thrust with his dirk. Pulling free, Richard jumped back.

It was difficult to immediately gauge the effect on de Chaunessy since his shirt front was blood soaked already. After a moment, it became clear, though, that the fight was over. Lucas de Chaunessy stood for a few more seconds, tottering back and forth, while his sword dangled loosely from his wrist. Then he collapsed.

At a sign from Major Hohenstedt, the regimental surgeon came running, but when he turned Lucas de Chaunessy's body over, the man's eyes were open and broken. The surgeon just shrugged and closed the eyes.

The seconds briefly conferred before they approached Richard.

"Will your Lordship accept our conclusion that the honour of both sides was satisfied? We are all in agreement that the late Capitaine de Chaunessy violated the terms, but perhaps, for the sake of his family, this need not be known?"

Hohenstedt was as embarrassed as any man of honour would be after witnessing a dishonourable act.

Richard nodded his acceptance.

"He paid the price. There is no need for this affair to besmirch his family's name."

The Marquis de Tezier sighed gratefully.

"On be'alf of my King, I apologise for ze be'aviour of one of 'is officers!" he declared solemnly.

Richard felt magnanimous.

"Can you blame the farmer for one rotten apple in one of his trees, Marquis? Let us forget this deplorable affair!"

"I shall convey your gracious words to 'is Majesty's government. Zey will be met wizz gratitude, I doubt not," de Tezier answered, bowing deeply.

Richard bowed in return.

"Can I entice you gentlemen to a belated breakfast at my house? My wife promised me to have it prepared for our return."

De Tezier bowed again.

"You are most fortunate to 'ave found a wife, both beautiful and brave."

"I consider myself blessed, indeed," Richard concurred, fighting a smile. He turned to his friend, Major Hohenstedt. "Let us not forget the unfortunate Captain. Will it be possible to have an undertaker take care of him? I am sure that his sister will want to have him interred in the dignity that he was unable to maintain in life."

Major Hohenfeldt nodded.

"The regimental purser will see to it."

Together, the men set out in their coaches. Arriving at their palais, Richard made sure to alight from the coach first, not wishing to prolong the fear Ellen must feel. Indeed, he had hardly gained footing on the snow-covered ground, when Ellen flew down the steps and into his arms. Under the bemused smiles of the other gentlemen, Richard received an advance on the promised hero's treatment.

Stepping back, Ellen recovered her dignity, and she curtseyed politely to the guests who bowed in response. The Marquis bowed the deepest.

"Madame, would you kindly warn your cousine zat I need to interview 'er?"

"Certainly, Marquis. She is awaiting you, already."

Indeed, Marie was ready to receive the news of her brother's death. The Marquis was surprised to see her in the deep black of early mourning already. He expressed his sympathy first, to which Marie nodded. What the Marquis told her next, however, left Marie de Perigneaux surprised.

-------

Of course, Marie did not join them for the breakfast, but the gentlemen were treated to everything that kitchen and cellar could provide. It seemed slightly frivolous to Richard, to be celebrating the death of a man, but what he had heard from Marie about his opponent eased his conscience.

There was also a rush of excitement still in him, having escaped mortal danger, and the guests had barely bid their farewell when Richard dragged an equally eager Ellen upstairs and into their bedroom. This time, Marie did not come in, although Ellen was positive that her own cries of lust were loud enough to alert the whole house.

They lay in bed, panting in the aftermath of their almost violent coupling, and surveyed the damage. One of the bed's curtains had been torn down, and Ellen's dress was ruined beyond repair. Richard's breeches, too, had suffered badly from Ellen's frantic search for Richard's member. Ellen giggled, and Richard, still embedded deeply in her snatch, had a very pleasant sensation.

"If I can extrapolate from last night and from the last hour, I should certainly duel more often," Richard said drily, inducing even more giggling from Ellen.

Then, she turned sober.

"Richard, I love you so much! I want you to be like that all the time. Let us dispense with all that pretending when we are alone. I know it is not considered proper, but feeling you inside me is the most wonderful feeling for me. I never want you to stop loving me, I never want us to grow apart like so many couples."

"How could we ever, darling?" Richard replied, gazing deeply into her violet-blue eyes.

"I don't know, Richard. So many women talk about their husbands disdainfully. They make it sound like a sacrifice to sleep with them. It was never a sacrifice for me, darling. You always make me feel wanted and ... in love."

In response, Richard crushed her to his chest, his emotions overpowering him. Ellen held on to him in kind.

"I sometimes cannot believe my luck," Ellen whispered into his neck.

Richard's voice was a little choked, too, but he tried to lighten the mood.

"It's I who has to feel lucky! Not only are you brave, beautiful, and wise. You know how to herd sheep, too!"

This time, it was his cry that sent the servants in the kitchen into a giggle fit.



-------

Chapter 43: A Detour


It was late afternoon, before Richard and Ellen came downstairs again. Ellen was aware of the fact that she walked gingerly, but she was blissfully indifferent to the knowing smiles of Sadie and Neeta, and the deep blush Evi showed when they saw their mistress.

Marie was in the nursery, and Ellen went upstairs again to make sure her cousin was coping. Marie, too, blushed when she saw Ellen.

"I took the children outside, to play, while you and Richard..." The rest of Marie's words were unintelligible.

Ellen pulled her cousin up from her sitting position.

"I'm sorry I neglected you, Marie. How do you feel?"

"It is hard to say. Lucas was the last of my family."

"You have me!" Ellen interjected.

"Yes, I have you!" Marie smiled briefly before her face took on a pained expression. "I feel bad, for being relieved over Lucas' death."

Ellen nodded.

"I can understand that. I hope you will not blame Richard, will you?"

Marie shook her head, her face almost taking on the colour of a ripe tomato.

"How could I?" she whispered. "He has been so kind to me, and you love him so much, and..."

Suddenly, Ellen realised her cousin's trouble, and she gasped. She saw her cousin then, so unhappy all her life, so starved for caring and love, and she realised that Marie could not help feeling the way she did.

"You have feelings for Richard, Marie?" Ellen asked softly.

Biting her lips, Marie nodded, while her shoulders jerked with silent sobs. She looked up with tear-streaked cheeks.

"I swear, Ellen, I would never, ever betray your friendship! I can go away, if you want. I couldn't stand losing your friendship."

Quickly, Ellen wrapped her cousin in a hug.

"I know you won't, Marie. Don't talk about leaving, please. I know I can trust you, and I know I can trust Richard."

"You are too good to me, Ellen," Marie smiled.

"Don't speak of it any more, Marie. Let us change the subject, shall we? What did the Marquis tell you?"

"Oh, that! It seems that Lucas wrote his will last night, and he made me sole heir. Mother is dead, she died a year ago. The Marquis will show me the will after Lucas' burial, but the estate seems to be substantial. I would have never guessed. I thought Lucas had squandered it all."

"That is indeed good news for a change. Do you need my help in arranging Lucas' interment?"

"I would appreciate that very much, dear Ellen. I am afraid it will be a lonely burial, even more so than Lucien's."

"That cannot be helped, Marie. Do you want him buried at the same cemetery as Lucien?"

"I am sure, neither of them will mind," Marie answered with a touch of her old wit. "The worst is, I shall have to wear black for another half year, for Lucas. I am so sick of it!"

"It gets old, after a while, doesn't it?" Ellen commiserated, and Marie nodded.

-------

It was indeed a small burial. Scarcely one dozen people gave Lucas de Chaunessy honours, and most of them were from the Carters' household. Richard did not accompany the women to the gravesite; this would have been in bad taste. However, the Marquis showed and, based on information from Marie, gave a very brief eulogy. After the ceremony, Marie, accompanied by Richard and Ellen visited the former Perigneaux house, now owned by the Marquis de Tezier.

The Marquis received them immediately, offering his sympathy again. After that, he came right to the matters at hand. Of course, he spoke French with Marie. Ellen and Richard tried to follow the conversation as best as they could.

As they understood the Marquis, Lucas de Chaunessy, had written a will and deposited it with the Marquis. In it, he stated that, after his mother's death a year ago, he and Marie were the last of the French O'Shaunessies. Consequently, he named Marie as his sole heiress.

In his will, he went on to explain how the family possessions had dwindled to almost nothing over the years, due to "investments that did not bear fruit". In other words, Lucas de Chaunessy had gambled away the family possessions.

All this had changed, though, after a streak of "lucky investments" had yielded him a small fortune in paper money, over 10,000 Francs, as well as a substantial Letter of Debt from a Le Havre merchant, which Marie was instructed to present to the widow of the merchant. Some of his other worldly possessions, his weapons, his horses, and his snuff box, he bequeathed to two fellow officers.

After the reading of the will, the Marquis handed over the paper money and the Letter of Debt to Marie, offering her his services whenever she would need them. Marie thanked him politely and asked him to forward Lucas' sword and pistols, his horse, and his snuff box to his regiment, for distribution among his comrades. After a brief exchange of some pleasantries with Richard and Ellen, the Marquis showed them out in person.

When they sat in the coach, Marie finally was able to speak her mind.

"At least my financial worries are over," she said, smiling wryly. "Although I must confess that I am not looking forward to presenting this Letter of Debt to a widow."

Richard shrugged. A debt was a debt. It meant somebody had spent more money than he owned. A debt had to be satisfied.

"When is that Letter due for satisfaction?" he asked curiously.

Marie pulled the letter from the envelope and studied in.

"It says, "per ultimo Juno, AD 1836", that would mean end of June, wouldn't it? How can I collect it? Do I have to travel to Le Havre?"

"You can send a representative, if you choose so. Once we return to England, and I am assuming that you will accompany us, we can make use of my bank's resources. My partner, Sir Robert Norton, has a network of representatives in almost every European port. That should include Le Havre.

"On the other hand, we could travel back to England by way of Le Havre. If I remember correctly, the River Seine empties into the sea at Le Havre. We could travel to Paris, and then by river boat to Le Havre."

"Paris?" Ellen asked, her eyes showing a more than fleeting interest.

"Why not? I was already thinking of travelling home using an alternate route. I visited Paris when I was sixteen, with my parents. Louis XVIII was still reigning, back then. It is a most astounding city."

Marie looked down at her black skirt.

"You expect me to visit Paris, dressed in black?" she moaned.

"Does anybody in Paris know your brother, Marie?" Ellen asked.

"No, not that I am aware," Marie returned, her eyebrows knitted.

"Then there is no need for you to wear widow's dresses. Richard and I certainly will not think less of you if you dropped those black monstrosities."

Marie smiled shyly.

"I would love to visit Paris. I would love to travel down the River Seine." The smile vanished. "I would also like to know the circumstances under which Lucas came into that Letter of Debt. I do not want any ill-gotten winnings."

Richard nodded. He realised that Marie had a fine character; there was an ingrained honesty in her.

"We still have two or three months to prepare, but I shall take steps to organise the journey. Let me see. There are the three of us present, and the children. That makes five. Sadie, Neeta, and Hogget will accompany us. What about Evi?"

"I'll speak to her," Ellen said. "Melissa and Colleen have told me already that they plan to stay in Munich for one more year. James and Maddie may want to join us, though, don't you think?"

"We'll ask them. Maddie's father will come and visit them. They may not be ready to leave so early. James could stay for a while longer to give Willoughby some pointers."

Over their discussion, they completed the coach ride home. Richard helped the women from the coach, and they continued their planning in the study.

Siobhan was weaned, and Mrs. Painter, the wet nurse, had secured for herself a position as maidservant with an American merchant in Nuremberg. She would leave the Carters' household in May anyhow. When Ellen asked Evi about her plans, the girl begged to stay with Ellen, claiming credibly that she had never fared better in her life. The girl spoke decent English, albeit with a Bavarian accent, and she fitted well with the rest of the servants. Ellen was happy that the girl was willing to accompany them.

Richard contacted the Marquis de Tezier next, asking that worthy for advice for the journey. The Marquis was happy to help with his knowledge, and he made out a passport for Richard and his family, assuring them of the help and support of all French government agencies.

James Palmer indeed volunteered to stay behind for a few months and effect the sale of the palais, either to Richard's successor or to other interested parties. Maddalena did not feel up to a long journey, yet, and with the visit of her father looming, she wanted more time in Bavaria.

This meant that seven adults and two children would make the journey to Paris. The coach Richard owned could seat six people comfortably in the cab. Hogget volunteered to ride with the coachman, and the three maidservants were all on the slender side, allowing for little Anthony to fit between them. Siobhan would be sitting on Ellen's or Neeta's lap, of course.

Richard had the coach reinforced, nevertheless, and more luggage space was added. The majority of their possessions would be entrusted to Mrs. Pointer's new employer who would organise the shipping to England.

By late May, the Carter household was ready to move. It was lucky that Richard's successor had a fast journey and arrived in mid-June. Lord Willoughby came with a much larger entourage than Richard and Ellen had arrived with, and he gratefully accepted Richard's offer to take over the palais. He was also quite clueless as to the situation in Germany in general and in Bavaria in particular, and he was happy to accept James Palmer's offer to stay "on board" for a few more months, to "show him the ropes".

Richard found Willoughby the most boring person he had ever met. His most redeeming quality, it seemed, was his ability to remain outwardly sober while consuming large quantities of wine and spirits.

Willoughby presented his credentials to the Prime Minister - his Majesty was still travelling in Italy - and took over the embassy by the end of June.

Richard and Ellen would have preferred for Colleen and Melissa to return from Italy before they left, but Ellen wanted to leave as soon as practicable. She had a reason, too. Her menses had ceased right after the fateful duel between Richard and Marie's brother, and Ellen was convinced that their frantic coupling before and after the duel had left her pregnant again. If she visited Paris, she wanted to do this while she could still fit into her dresses!

Thus, on July 1, 1836, the coach with Richard, Ellen and their entourage, left Munich. The King had returned three days earlier, and he had insisted on a last evening with Richard and Ellen. A few selected courtiers and friends were invited, too, and His Majesty presented Ellen with a a set of Venetian glassware, as a token of his esteem.

Melissa and Colleen had not returned with King Ludwig; they had elected to extend their visit in Italy as guests of the Marchesa Marianna Florenzi, but they had sent a letter, wishing Ellen and Richard a safe return journey.

The coach rumpled along a well-maintained road from Munich to Augsburg. Richard was eager to see that city, as it was the historic seat of the famous Fugger family of weavers and merchants. The family was extinct, but the almshouses they had built for the poor citizens still stood.

From Augsburg, they continued their journey towards Stuttgart, seat of the King Wilhelm of Wurttemberg. The Royal Court was at the King's summer retreat, and the travellers stayed only for one night, before they continued their journey.

Skirting the Black Forest, they reached the River Rhine, two days later, and they were ferried across at Karlsruhe, after spending the night in an inn. They were now on French soil, and the passport Richard carried worked wonders. Within an hour of crossing, they had fresh horses, and a local coachman relieved his Bavarian counterpart, who received his pay and a premium. The new coachman was a grizzled veteran of the Great War who had been captured by Wellington's army at Cintra. That worthy then changed sides and joined the French exile army, thus escaping from prison and leading a life, if not of luxury, but at least of leisure, since that French exile army never had a chance to fight. Consequently, he spoke some English, and he assured them time and again that he had enjoyed his years in England.

Over the next ten days, the coach rumpled over the chaussees to Metz, to Verdun, to Reims, and lastly, to Paris. It was late July when they arrived, and again, the passport provided by the Marquis de Tezier was very useful. Although tout Paris was spending the hot summer months in their country seats, a sufficient number of dignitaries was in presence to ensure that the visiting British official and his charming wife were entertained.

Almost every evening in the ensuing two weeks was filled with receptions and parties. For those who had stayed behind in Paris found that having Lady Lambert and the Comtesse de Perigneaux at their parties was at least a small compensation for the heat of the city.

Marie clearly enjoyed her exposure to society. No mention had been made about her brother's death - he was a nonentity for those people anyway - and Marie revelled in wearing her normal wardrobe again. She also enjoyed the fleeting moments in which she danced with Richard. Only Ellen knew about her cousin's feelings, and she did not begrudge Marie of the harmless contact.

Marie could have easily found a husband in those two weeks, for many a gentleman showed more than a fleeting interest for the beautiful widow. However, it seemed that none of these men caught Marie's fancy. She was friendly, she was witty - at least inasmuch as Ellen and Richard could follow her rapid-fire French - and she seemed to enjoy herself. Nevertheless, Marie maintained that, for the time being, she was grateful to stay associated with her cousin.

On August 2, the travellers boarded a passenger boat, La Reine Charlotte, for the journey down the River Seine. The boat was towed by no less than eight horses which were changed every two hours, and they made excellent speed on the slow flowing river. At one point, they entered a canal that ran parallel to the general direction of the river which saved them over fifty miles of winding riverbed. In consequence, they arrived at Le Havre or Harbour Grace at noon of August 3.

They first order of business was to secure lodgings. Le Havre was a grey, dismal town, but it boasted a number of inns. One of them was located in the centre of the city, close to the Great Market, and it looked the least suspicious. Within two hours, the travellers had settled into their rooms. While Neeta and Evi minded the children, Marie, accompanied by Richard and Ellen, set out to find the house of Lucas Chaunessy's debtor, the Veuve Lupin. They did not have to search long, for the Maison Lupin was one of the largest houses around the main market.

Marie announced herself as Comtesse Perigneaux, and it took only two minutes for the mistress of the house, the Widow Lupin, to greet her visitor. The excitement over the noble visitor soon vanished, though, when Marie explained the purpose of her visit.

An animated discussion ensued between the two women, and once again, Richard and Ellen could only understand half of what was discussed. After a while, Marie, turned to Richard.

"She says she does not have the money. She tried to sell one of her storage cellars, but she did not find a buyer who would lease it back to her. Without the cellars, she would have to give up her trading business."

"What does she trade in?" Richard asked, interested.

"Wines, sparkling wines, from the Champagne region. They are quite expensive, and she needs to store them in a cold cellar."

"What does she propose, then?" Richard asked.

"She wants an extension. She offered to pay interest."

Richard shook his head.

"I would advise against that, Marie. You have no way of knowing how much debt she has. Your Letter of Debt could turn out worthless if you wait too long."

"But what can we do?" Marie asked, showing that she was not comfortable with the situation.

Richard thought over the problem. Then, he smiled.

"Let her write over the ownership of her cellars to you. She can lease them back from you. That will provide you with a steady revenue, and she is no worse off than with her original plan. If her business goes bankrupt, you will still own the cellars. Sir Robert Norton has a correspondent in Harbour Grace. We can visit him, and he can give us an idea of what would constitute a proper lease. He can also collect it for you."

Marie gave Richard a grateful smile. Turning back to the widow, she made her counterproposal. Obviously, they haggled for a bit. When they reached an agreement, Marie turned again.

"She agrees if we allow her to buy the property back once she has recovered her losses."

Richard nodded.

"That would be fair. If she is up to running the business, without her husband, that is."

Marie smiled.

"She said, he never was involved in the business. He only spent the money she earned. The money she saves on his upkeep will be enough to cover the temporary losses. By the way, it seemed that Lucas won the money in honest gambling. A streak of luck. Mme. Lupin says that it was one of her husband's own friends who dealt the cards. This takes a load off my mind."

"That is a relief," Ellen entered the discussion. "We should have the deal notarised and then leave this town. I do not like it here. It is grey and unfriendly."

Marie smiled at Ellen. "You are right."

Then she turned to the Widow Lupin and spoke to her in her usual rapid French. After a few exchanges, the women settled their discussion. Marie stood, preparing to leave.

"We shall meet tomorrow at the office of one Maitre Duval. He is the notary in Le Havre," Marie explained.

Richard and Ellen could see the relief in the eyes of the Widow Lupin. She spoke to them, more slowly now, and Richard understood that she thanked him for coming up with a solution to her dilemma.

There was not much to do in Le Havre. Therefore, Marie and Ellen returned to the inn. Richard returned, two hours later. He had been lucky. A Royal Navy sloop was at anchor in Harbour Grace, as the English called Le Havre. The crew had picked up shipwrecked French sailors on the African coast, and her captain, Cmdr. The Hon. Earl Parker, had been persuaded to land them on French soil before ending his journey in Portsmouth.

Of course, Cmdr. Parker was delighted to offer a high Foreign Office official and his wife the hospitality of his cabin. He would sail two days hence, with the morning tide, meaning they had to board the next evening. That gave Richard only one evening, namely this, to entertain the Commander on shore, and consequently, he had invited him to dine with them.

Commander The Honourable Earl Parker was a rather young man, not quite thirty years of age, with a well-formed, clean-shaven, tanned face, a high forehead, and full brown hair. He was not flustered, but obviously delighted to make the acquaintance of Lady Lambert and the Comtesse Perigneaux. As it turned out, he spoke better French than Richard and Ellen, and he made lively conversation with Marie.

From what Ellen gathered, Parker was the second son of Sir William Parker, 2nd Naval Lord. This explained his quick rise in the naval ranks. Since Sir William had briefly served with Richard's father during the blockade of Brest, and since Richard himself was a well-travelled man, the conversation at dinner was quite animated.

The Commander praised Ellen's book, Memories of the Nile, and her courage to travel through the Egyptian desert. That led to Ellen telling of the rescue of Maddalena and Ettore, and of the scene at the quay of Rosetta. Marie had not heard that story before, and she listened in open-mouthed wonder. They all laughed when Richard told of the effect Ellen's display had had on the soldiers and workers.

At one point, Marie, slightly inebriated by the Champagne wine they had after dinner, could not hold back her envy.

"How I wish to see more of the world, too! You have had such a wonderful life, Ellen. Me, I had just twenty months in Munich, before Lucien broke his stupid neck!"

Commander Parker looked slightly shocked. Ellen escorted an embarrassed Marie up to her room and made her lay down. In the meantime, Richard explained that Lucien the Perigneaux had been thrown by his horse, probably on the way to some amorous adventure. Commander Parker conceded that the Comtesse had indeed good reason to be angry at her deceased husband. Both men also concurred that this Champagne sparkling wine had the effect of loosening tongues.

The next question betrayed Commander Parker's interest.

"I trust the Comtesse is not without means of her own?"

"She came into a considerable inheritance," Richard answered cautiously. "This is why we visited Harbour Grace, to settle financial matters for her."

That was all the men talked about Marie, for Ellen returned to the guest room, conveying her cousin's regret over loosing her countenance. The thread of the conversation was lost, though, and Commander Parker bade his farewell, a half hour later.

Up in their room, Richard told Ellen about Parker's question.

"The good commander seems to have taken an interest in your cousin. He asked about her status."

Ellen frowned. She knew that money was the prime motivation for most weddings, but she also abhorred the idea of a union born of financial motives. Richard sensed her reservations and continued.

"He is a second son, Ellen. He cannot ignore financial aspects."

That was true, Ellen conceded. Then, a thought struck her.

"If you had been a second son, Richard, what would you have done?"

Richard understood the question as she had meant it.

"We would have to live on a salary, but I couldn't live without you." He grinned at Ellen. "It is better, though, that I can afford you."

Ellen smiled back, but turned earnest.

"I would have hated to marry for money. Will you believe me, that I never thought of money when I married you?"

"Of course, my darling! Will you, in turn, believe me that I did not marry you only because you are the most beautiful woman I know?"

"You mean, I have other qualities?"

The twinkle in Ellen's eyes showed that her mood was light again.

"Oh yes! You are kind and loving, you are wise..."

"And you can herd sheep!" they blurted out in unison, laughing madly.



-------

Chapter 44: Mending


HM Sloop Clotho was a handy craft. Even Richard and Ellen noticed that on the short crossing to Portsmouth. She was flush-decked and carried ten twelve-pounders on each side, a modern man o'war, and the captain's cabin was comparably roomy.

They left Le Havre with the morning tide, and with a lively westerly wind abeam, the Clotho raced over the choppy waters of the Channel, often topping 13 knots. Therefore, it was still light when they passed the Isle of Wight and made for Portsmouth Harbour.

Emily McAllister still owned the house in High Street, but she had moved to London, and the house was shut down, for all Richard knew. Therefore, as soon as Clotho's anchor fell, Hogget was sent ashore to secure lodgings at an inn.

As it happened, the Royal George Inn had a sufficient number of rooms. I was well after midnight, though, before Richard, Ellen, and their entire entourage could settle down in their rooms. They had bade their farewell to the helpful Commander Parker, and Richard had made a point to invite him to their house on Cavendish Square if he happened to visit London.

The way the good Commander had spent almost the entire passage with Marie, entertaining her with tales of his adventures and experiences, Ellen knew his visit to be due within days. Conversely, Marie seemed to have enjoyed the attention of Captain Parker, a first as far as Ellen knew. Ellen resolved to learn more about this officer. She did not want her cousin to experience yet another disappointment.

Richard was able to secure a coach for the morning, for the last leg of their journey, back to London. The travellers were up early, and by eight o'clock, the rented coach rattled over the worn out cobble stones of Portsmouth, towards the road to London. By late afternoon, they reached Cavendish Square and Lambert House. There had been no way to forewarn Old Lady Lambert, and their arrival came as complete surprise, both for Richard's grandmother and for the staff.

The old woman had tears of joy in her eyes when she hugged first her grandson and then Ellen. Ellen found her in astounding health, far better than after their return from India, but the reason for this was not pleasant at all. For the next person to greet them was Eleanor, and she was wearing a house dress, meaning, she was living with her grandmother.

Eleanor gave her brother a loving hug, but when she greeted Ellen, she started slightly. Ellen was almost five months along in her pregnancy, and it showed. Eleanor's hug was lacking in warmth.

"You are with child again?" she asked, almost accusingly.

"How nice to see you, too," Ellen responded, miffed at the cold reception. "Yes, I am."

Eleanor realised her gaffe and was contrite.

"I'm sorry, Ellen, this came out wrongly. I was surprised, that is all."

There were tears in Eleanor's eyes, and Ellen's anger was blown away immediately. She hugged her sister in law.

"You can tell me later, darling," she whispered into her ear. Speaking loudly, she continued. "Don't be alarmed, my dears. This is not some illusion. Please, meet my cousin, Marie Comtesse de Perigneaux. Marie, this is Richard's grandmother, Lady Lambert, and my sister in law and best friend, Eleanor Ruiz de Costa!"

Ellen saw Eleanor flinch at the mentioning of the Ruiz de Costa name, but fortunately, Marie sensed the mood and drew attention to herself.

"I am very pleased to meet Ellen's and Richard's relatives. I hope you will not find me intruding."

Old Lady Lambert, after one look at Marie, gave her a warm, welcoming smile.

"Welcome to Lambert House! Any relative of our Ellen is more than welcome."

Ellen caught Richard's look and suppressed a smile. Lucas de Chaunessy would not have been welcome.

Eleanor had her misgivings under control now.

"I am pleased to learn that Ellen has a cousin. Welcome to London!"

Marie's impulsive hug left Eleanor slightly flustered. Looking closely, Ellen saw that Eleanor's face was pale and haggard, and her usually flashing green eyes appeared dull and impassive. Whatever had happened between Eleanor and Antonio had to be bad. She wanted to ask about Henry, Eleanor's son, but she checked herself at the last moment. It did not help.

Neeta and Sadie entered with the two children. At the sight of little Anthony and Siobhan, Eleanor broke into tears and ran upstairs. Old Lady Lambert made a face, a mixture of disgust and pity.

"Henry is with Anthony, and Eleanor only gets to see him once a week. It breaks her heart, but it's her own fault. She left Antonio; why, I have no clue. She doesn't talk. She only goes to these evenings with this good-for-nothing Reverend Allday. But this has to wait. We have to notify your mother and father."

"They have returned, then?" Richard asked, his face still showing the worry he felt over his sister.

"Late June," his grandmother answered. "Your mother is quite beside herself over Eleanor. Even she cannot find out what happened."

"Haven't you talked to Antonio?"

"He won't talk either! It's like trying to reconcile a pair of mules!"

Eleanor Lambert's exasperation showed. Richard groaned, and they looked at him.

"I just realised that this has now become Ellen's affair, if I know my sweet wife at all."

Ellen emitted a groan of herself.

"Not today! Today, I want to greet you, I want to greet Richard's parents, and I want to see Lucy and my father."

Eleanor Lambert's face became soft.

"How far along are you, dear?"

"Almost five months, I suppose," Ellen answered with a tentative smile.

"How do you feel? Like you did with Anthony?"

Ellen considered the question and shook her head.

"I feel more like when I carried Siobhan," she answered.

Old Lady Lambert smiled.

"That will make your mother happy," she told Richard. "A little Harriet."

"Or perhaps a George or a Jonathan?" Richard answered, smiling back. He was referring to the names of Ellen's father and stepfather.

"Men have no clues," Eleanor Lambert told Ellen, shaking her head.

-------

Harriet Carter was apprehensive when their coach entered Cavendish Square. Her husband was uncomfortable, too, she sensed. Their last meeting with Eleanor had not gone well; in fact, it had ended with Harriet berating her daughter for ruining her marriage. She still did not understand Eleanor's reasons for leaving Antonio.

The fact that Richard had returned was the only reason for Harriet to visit Lambert House. Of course, they had exchanged letters, but the last news she had received from Richard or Ellen was almost five months old.

One look at Ellen changed Harriet's outlook completely. She was with child again, and she seemed happy and content. Thank God for her daughter-in-law! For all the troubles and heart aches she had caused in the past, Ellen was the best that had happened to the family in the past decade.

The joy Ellen showed at seeing her mother-in-law was heart warming for Harriet, and in a flash, she hugged the young woman.

"How far are you along, dear?"

"Almost five months, by my reckoning," Ellen beamed. "Perhaps, it is a small Harriet."

"God bless you, Ellen, you bring happiness back in our lives."

Richard was next.

"You do know your good fortune, don't you?" Harriet asked as she hugged her son.

She felt Ellen's hand on her shoulder.

"There is somebody I would like you to meet," she said, pulling another young woman to the front.

Harriet did a double take. A slightly smaller version of Ellen, more slender and with light blue eyes, was standing at Ellen's side.

"This is my cousin Marie, who I wrote to you about. She will live with us, at least for the near future."

"Good evening, Lady Carter," the young woman said, with a faint French accent.

Harriet sensed the apprehension in the young woman, and she gave her an encouraging hug.

"Welcome, my dear. I was so sorry to read about your bad fortune in Ellen's letters. Let us hope that your future will be free of tragedy."

Marie smiled in response, and Harriet remembered the first meetings with Ellen. Marie had a captivating smile, too.

Next, Harriet excused herself and went upstairs, to the children's bedrooms. Sadie and Neeta were flustered when Harriet gave them friendly hugs, and they introduced a skinny blonde girl to her, named Evi. But Harriet had no eyes for them anymore. Little Anthony was still awake, and he looked up at his grandmother, barely recognising her. Two years are a long time for a child. Harriet was patient with him. When Anthony showed her his favourite fairy tale book, Harriet sat down and read a chapter for him. When she finished, he demanded more, and before Harriet realised it, it was nine o'clock.

She looked up when she heard the chime of the great clock downstairs, and there was Ellen, standing in the door to Anthony's room.

"It's bedtime, Tony," she smiled. "Did Grandmother Harriet read to you?"

Little Tony nodded enthusiastically.

"You will see her often, now. We are back at home, and Grandmother Harriet and Grandmother Lucy can visit us. Now, say 'Good Night' and get ready for bed!"

Neeta came in to supervise Tony's preparations for the night, and Ellen led Harriet out into the corridor.

"What in the world happened with Eleanor and Antonio?" she whispered.

Harriet felt miserable again.

"I don't know! When we returned, she had already moved out of their house. She won't tell me. She just sits and stares into the air. She's miserable, but she won't let us help her. She visits this Reverend Allday and his group of biddies twice a week. I have tried to interview him, but to no avail. I feel that he is behind this."

"You don't mean... ?" Ellen gasped.

"No, not that!" Harriet responded. "At least I can't imagine it. But she is always quoting this man, if she talks at all. It's all about 'leaving the sinful ways' or some such nonsense."

Harriet let her exasperation be heard.

"Do you want me to try meddling?" Ellen asked with a sigh.

Harriet regarded the question. Eleanor would clam up to Ellen, if Ellen tried to interfere.

"Not directly. I don't think it will help. I hate to tell you, knowing how close you two used to be, but Eleanor resents you. She resents your happiness and your good fortune."

"I noticed that already," Ellen sighed. "She tried to cover it, but she almost became hostile when she saw I was with child."

"See, why would she resent that? It must be that infernal Allday who is filling her head with nonsense."

Ellen thought about the situation. Old Lady Lambert had tried to reason with Eleanore, and so had Harriet. Both had failed to penetrate Eleanor's impassive silence. Only her own, Ellen's, pregnancy had produced emotions. Ellen decided on her own course of action.

"Will you let me handle her? I think, I may have an idea," she asked Harriet.

Harriet shrugged. "What do you plan?" she asked.

"I'll do nothing," Ellen said grimly. "Let's see how she will handle that."

Ellen started her campaign the very next day. Lucy and Jonathan, with Violet, came for dinner. At the table, Ellen was leading the conversation. How happy she was to be with child again. How much she loved Richard for his tender care and resolute defence of her honour. How exciting it had been at the Bavarian court. How well the children had adjusted. She rambled on and on.

Of course, Richard and Marie had been filled in, but Jonathan and Violet were astonished at this unknown side of Ellen's personality. Lucy seemed to look through Ellen's posturing, but then, she and Harriet had doubtlessly spoken to each other.

It worked. Even before the dessert was served, Eleanor put down her silverware with an audible 'clang' and left the table with a mumbled excuse. Once she had left, Ellen's loquaciousness evaporated, allowing Lucy and Jonathan to fill her in on what had happened in their lives.

The biggest news was that James and Millicent Donovan had returned from India. Their belated return was due to the fact that Millicent had given birth to their first child before they left Calcutta, a little boy named Dougal. James Donovan had applied for a staff position with Joanthan Wilkes, and Ellen's stepfather, after testing the young physician for a month, had accepted him. Ellen made a mental note to visit with Millicent at the earliest convenience.

The Princess Victoria had indeed assumed the patronage over the hospital charity, and Lucy was overjoyed to tell Ellen of a sizeable increase of contributions. Not only that, but Lucy had been presented to King William at a levee, and the King had thanked her for two decades of charitable efforts. In addition, the hospital trustees had agreed to name a new maternity ward after Lucy.

Lucy made light of these things, but Ellen knew the pride her stepmother felt. Even more than Ellen, Lucy had come from humble origins, and the recognition of her tireless work meant more to her than she would let on.

After the Wilkes had gone, Richard and Ellen sat with Marie and Old Lady Lambert in the tea room, discussing the news they had heard. Eleanor rejoined them, casting a reproachful look at Ellen. Ellen, however, blithely ignored that and resumed the role of happy wife and expecting mother. Eleanor fled when Ellen rested against Richard's chest, sighing contentedly.

Over the next days and weeks, Ellen reacquainted herself with her vast circle of friends. The Turners were invited to tea, Samuel and Rebecca York came for dinner, together with Lord and Lady Hornblower. Ellen made the most of the time, before her advancing pregnancy would make social contacts difficult.

In all that time, Ellen never asked Eleanor about the reasons for her fallout with Antonio. Once a week, sometimes twice, Eleanor would visit her church group with Reverend Allday. When Eleanor returned, she would look at Ellen expectantly, but Ellen never asked her about those visits either.

Sometimes, Eleanor would look at Ellen and her children wistfully, other times, especially after the visits with the Allday church group, she looked at Ellen with disapproval. Since Ellen was not aware of any wrongdoing, and since Eleanor never voiced her misgivings, Ellen ignored those looks.

Ten days after their return, while returning from a meeting with her publisher (her book still sold well), she suddenly found herself face to face with Antonio Ruiz de Costa on the street. Ellen was shocked. Antonio looked terrible. His face was gaunt and his eyes deeply set. While he was dressed immaculately, the clothes were too wide and made him look like a scarecrow.

"Excuse me for waylaying you," he began haltingly.

Ellen was in no mood for excuses. She simply stepped close to him and hugged him. To her utter surprise, she felt him tremble in her arms. Holding him at arm's length, she noticed that he had to fight for control.

"We need to talk, Antonio," she said softly.

She steered him into a nearby coffee house where they were able to find a table in the rear. Ellen waited until Antonio had placed orders for them before she grabbed the bull by the horns.

"Antonio, you need to tell me what happened. How can we help you and Ellen if neither of you speaks to us?"

He looked at her, doubtfully.

"I ... didn't think you'd want to hear my side. You and Eleanor," he choked, "are friends."

"Yes, I am. But I'm your friend, too, and so is Richard. What happened?"

They had to interrupt, for the waiter came with Antonio's coffee and Ellen's hot chocolate.

"I don't know myself, Ellen. From one day to the next, she refused me. Before, when we had small quarrels, we would make up and forgive each other."

"Make up?" Ellen asked with raised eyebrows.

"You know what I meant, Ellen," Antonio sighed. "Eleanor always was a passionate woman, and I never treated her badly or roughly. Then, one day, she pushed me away when I wanted to ... kiss her, to make up for a disagreement. She screamed at me. She accused me of using her for my pleasure. That's not true! I always tried to give as much and more than I received."

Ellen shook her head. "And then?"

"I protested. She claimed I treated her like a plaything. I was at a loss what to say. I became angry and left the house, to get my head clear. The next morning, she accused me of being a coward, for running away from our problems. It became worse. That evening, we were invited with Don Alfredo, the Mexican envoy. As soon as we arrived, Eleanor left me standing alone. In my anger, I drank too much, that is true. I swear, I only made conversation with two of Don Alfredo's daughters, but on the way home, Eleanor accused me of infidelity. Of course, I became angry. I said that perhaps I should question her visits with that Reverend, too. That was when she demanded I drop her off at your house. I haven't seen her since. I don't know what happened to the wonderful woman I married."

Ellen was silent. This made no sense. Even if Antonio was only presenting his view point, Ellen could not see any obvious grounds for Eleanor's extreme behaviour. There was one thing she needed to know, though.

"Antonio, I have to ask this: do you want her back? Do you honestly want her back as your wife?"

"You mean to ask whether I can still love her?"

Ellen nodded.

"Yes, I'd give or do anything to win her back. Look at me! I can't eat anymore, I don't sleep."

"I shall try to get to the bottom of this." Ellen sighed. "It's not easy. Eleanor is as stubborn as a mule. You shouldn't have married a redhead. You should have taken a placid blonde."

Ellen smiled at him. Her words had the desired effect; Antonio cracked a weak smile.

"I seem to remember that Richard didn't have an easy time, either. How do you manage to have that harmony now, Ellen?"

"We talk about everything; what we do, what we see, whom we meet. Most importantly, we tell each other what we feel. That takes courage, sometimes, to offer your innermost feelings to the other. Doing this, we have avoided misunderstandings. These days, it doesn't take courage anymore, because we trust each other unconditionally."

Antonio nodded.

"Perhaps, this is what went wrong with Eleanor and me. We never spoke our mind, for fear of hurting the other."

Ellen touched his arm in a friendly gesture.

"Let me work on it. I'll try my best to give you and Eleanor a second chance."

"You give me hope, Ellen."

"Give my regards to your mother," Ellen smiled, hugging Antonio once more.

-------

As a result of her conversation with Antonio, Ellen stepped up her efforts to ignore Eleanor. This in spite of the fact that she could observe cracks in Eleanor's armour already. Eleanor was constantly short of temper, and be was barely able to hide her exasperation at the overt displays of tenderness between her brother and Ellen.

Consequently, Ellen went out of her way to demonstrate her love to Richard. The situation came to a head, a week after Ellen had met Antonio. She was sitting at the breakfast table with Richard and Eleanor. When Richard stood to leave for his office, Ellen remained seated, but she reached out with both arms. Richard bent down to give her a farewell kiss. When their lips parted, Ellen pulled his head down so that she could whisper in his ears.

"Last night was wonderful, darling. I love having you inside me!"

Then she kissed a blushing Richard once more, with great feeling. Richard had barely left the room, when Eleanor exploded.

"Have you no sense of decency or propriety, Ellen?"

"Why, yes, I have," Ellen answered calmly. "What did I do?"

"Your shameless cavorting around Richard is more than embarrassing. Is it not enough that you obviously give in to his base instincts? Do you have to encourage him?"

"Eleanor, Richard is my husband. I love him, and he loves me back. Of course, I let my love for him show."

"Some love! You rut with him almost every night!"

"Why, are you listening in?" Ellen laughed.

"Of course not! I cannot help but overhear you, as you even spur him him on!"

"And why, my dear Eleanor, is this wrong?"

"Don't you see it, Ellen? You base your marriage on sinful lust, rather than on true love!"

"So far, it has worked admirably for us," Ellen countered. "I happen to like sinful lust, as you prefer to call it. For me, and I'm sure for Richard, too, 'sinful lust' is the expression of our true love. What 'true love' are you referring to?"

Ellen's tone was challenging, and Eleanor answered hotly, without realising that she was opening up for the first time.

"A love that is based on respect, rather than urges of the flesh! A love of the soul. A love that is not tainted by lewd behaviour."

Ellen raised her eyebrows.

"This from the woman who once introduced me to self-inflicted pleasure?"

"Well, I for one, have seen the light!" Eleanor shot back. "I do not give in to those sinful urges anymore. I have bettered my life!"

"Some betterment!" Ellen snorted, getting riled now herself. "You lost your husband and your child! Is that better?"

"Antonio will see the light, too," Eleanor answered, but with a lack of conviction. "Reverend Allday says that men need longer to see the divine reasoning. Their urges are stronger, and their discipline is weaker. It is us women who must better them."

Ellen looked back at Eleanor with a bemused smile. She did not answer, though. After a few moments of silence, Eleanor took the bait.

"Really, Ellen, you must come to your senses. Come with me tomorrow. I'll introduce you to the Reverend; he is a most insightful man. He can bring you on the right path again."

"All right," Ellen answered lightly. "If you insist, I'll accompany you. Do tell me more about him. How did you meet him? What made you seek his guidance?"

Over the next two hours, Eleanor, in her eagerness to convince Ellen, told her the entire story, from her view point. It was a catharsis for her, obviously, to be able to talk to a seemingly understanding friend. Ellen felt slightly bad, for misleading Eleanor, but she saw a singular chance to get to the bottom of Eleanor's estrangement from Antonio.

It seemed that Antonio was quite an able lover, so much indeed, that Eleanor could not resist him. Whenever she felt bad, whenever they had minor arguments, Anotnio would take her into his arms and lead her into their bedroom. In his arms, Eleanor would be swept away on the waves of passion.

The disagreements remained, however, and Eleanor more and more resented Antonio's play with her emotions. His knowledge that he could easily get on her good side again also made him disregard her wishes and opinions.

One incident particularly enraged Eleanor. She had been to a tea where a proponent of the new movement to grant women suffrage spoke. Eleanor always had been interested in politics, and she embraced the idea that women should have equal voting rights. In the evening, when she was lying in bed with Antonio, she spoke about those issues.

What enraged her was not so much Antonio's first reaction - he broke out in laughter - but his idea to settle the issue. He maintained that Eleanor needed a worthwhile task, and he proposed to try for a second child, to 'keep her busy'. The outrage Eleanor felt in this moment made her refuse his advances for the first time.

With Antonio's standard way to deal with differences thwarted, he did not know how to deal with Eleanor, and their arguing was bitter, leaving both Antonio and Eleanor resentful at the other.

In this mood, Eleanor was susceptible to the invitation from another woman, Hannah Elsworth, to accompany her to a Bible group, held by a 'phantastic' new reverend, Jonas Allday. For Eleanor's hurt ego, Jonas Allday offered the right answers. A total rejection of physical intimacy seemed just the right way for her to cope with her overwhelming desire that allowed Antonio to dominate her. His preaching of a divine love to replace the sinful lust was the answer to her troubled and confused mind.

Antonio reacted with confusion to her rejection of his advances. She never had a chance, she claimed, to explain to him why she felt that she had to place their marriage on a different basis. Her refusal insulted him, and he left home most evenings, to spend time with acquaintances. Eleanor's efforts towards reconciliation were always met with Antonio's attempts to rekindle their physical love, something Eleanor refused, of course. This further alienated them, and it became known in the closely knit community of Spanish and South American expatriates that Antonio Ruiz de Costa's marriage was struggling.

The final straw was when they visited an evening reception with the Mexican envoy. They had barely arrived when Eleanor was pulled to the side by three of the Hispanic matrons who berated Eleanor for being a bad wife. They told her that Antonio would be in his right to look elsewhere for companionship. It was in this mindset that she saw him dancing and laughing with the young and, as Eleanor had to admit, beautiful daughters of their host.

The bitter argument that followed made her leave him. She maintained however, that she still loved him, and that she hoped he would see her reasons.

When everything had poured out of Eleanor, she sat silently, looking at Ellen dubiously. She was obviously unsure of Ellen's reaction. Ellen did the only thing that came to her mind: she hugged Eleanor.

-------

There were at least thirty women of all ages, but only four men, in the congregation hall when Eleanor and Ellen entered it. Ellen received a few scandalised looks, for her pregnancy was very obvious now.

When the Reverend Allday entered, they all stood. He was a rail-thin man, nearly bald, and his black frock smelled of a mixture of perfume and unwashed body, something Ellen found particularly revolting. His mostly female followers seemed to adore him, though, as Ellen could see.

He went around in the hall, greeting some of his followers personally. We he approached Eleanor, she introduced Ellen to him.

"Reverend, this is my sister-in-law, Lady Lambert. I invited her to come along."

Allday looked at Ellen as if she was dirt under his shoes.

"Milady, it is not appropriate for women in your state to frequent social gatherings!"

"Oh, I am most sorry, Reverend. I thought this was a church service. Surely, you would not exclude expecting mothers from church service?"

Ellen put on her best innocent voice, but she spoke clearly, and the flock listened in intently.

"I find it in bad taste, milady. How can I preach against the sinful union of man and woman when you flaunt the result of just such sinful behaviour?"

"Sinful behaviour? I am a married woman and mother, expecting a child! What is sinful about that? Did not the Lord ordain us to be fruitful and multiply?"

Ellen still spoke in a detached tone, as if the discussion was purely academic.

"The women in my congregation wear modest attire, and they cover their head. Your appearance shows that you are a sinner, a temptress who flaunts herself!"

Somehow, the good Reverend hated her very sight, Ellen noticed with surprise.

"But I do not flaunt myself, as you chose to say," she protested in a mild voice. "My dress is modest, and as for my hair, this is how I was born. Is it not rather that your own sinful thoughts misguide you?"

The latter sentence was accompanied by a teasing smile. This Reverend was easy to goad.

"Vade retro, Satanas!" Allday thundered.

A sideway glance told Ellen that Eleanor was listening to the Reverend with growing anger.

"A woman bearing a child is Satan, Reverend?" Ellen asked mockingly. "May I remind you that you were born by a woman? She was pregnant with you, like I am pregnant with my husband's child. Surely, you do not believe that you were delivered by a stork?"

There was an audible giggle from some of the women present, but the mentioning of his mother had a frightful effect on the Reverend. With a cry of rage, he tried to hit Ellen with his fist. Fortunately, Ellen has watched him closely, but by stepping back to avoid the blow, Ellen stumbled and fell, landing heavily on one of the chairs. Desperately, she tried to regain her balance to fend off the maniac, but that proved unnecessary.

With a scream of rage, Eleanor launched herself at her erstwhile mentor, hitting him and scratching his face with her nails. When Allday managed to grab Eleanor's hands in a strong grip, he came to regret his preaching of modesty. For Eleanor wore no hoops or underskirts under her skirt, and thus, her unimpeded knee impacted with full force in the Reverend's groin.

He doubled over in pain, only to be hit by the fist of another woman. Five or six of his parishioners rushed him now, kicking, scratching and beating him amidst angry screams. The fact that he had hit a pregnant woman made every mother in the room his immediate and mortal enemy.

This was something Ellen had not foreseen, but she welcomed the development nonetheless. Watching the mêlée, she carefully examined herself. She felt no pain or other discomfort, though. Heaving a sigh of relief, she stood carefully. A tearful Eleanor was at her side immediately.

"Oh God, Ellen, I'm so sorry. I never knew he could be so violent! I would have never exposed you to him if I had known."

In spite of the scare she just had had, Ellen had to smile. Eleanor had called Allday violent! Yet, she herself had reduced that man to a moaning heap.

"I think I'm fine, Eleanor," she tried to comfort her sister-in-law. "I was scared, but I'm fine. He missed me, and I stumbled, that's all."

One of the older parishioners approached her.

"He'll never hit a woman again, milady," she stated grimly, and Ellen believed her. What was left of the Revered Allday, barely moved.

"I must thank you ladies for coming to my aid to readily," she said in her most friendly voice. "It is obvious that this man holds a deeply seated grudge against women. He has poisoned your mind with his preaching, to satisfy his hatred. I can only advise all of you to come to your senses. If you push away your husbands, as he urged you to do, they will seek solace elsewhere, and you will be the ones to be left alone and unhappy. Make an end to their misery and to your own and embrace them again. Think of your marriage vows. You vowed to love your husbands and to honour them, and they vowed to worship you with their bodies. This should be your guidance, not the ranting of a deranged person."

Ellen looked around at the stunned faces.

"Now, if you will excuse us, I really need to rest. Will you come, Eleanor?"

With Eleanor holding her hand, Ellen walked out of the hall with her head held high. Together with Eleanor, she stepped into the coach and gave orders to return to cavendish Square.

Ellen suppressed the smug smile that she felt coming. This had been easy. She would have never thought it possible to free Eleanor from the Reverend's influence to quickly, but the man's irrational hatred of her had made that possible. Where had that hatred come from?

"Why did he hate you so much?" Eleanor asked, eerily echoing Ellen's thoughts.

"I have no idea. When he saw me, he became insane. It was something about me being with child. He must be a twisted person."

Eleanor's lips twitched. "He is, now."

Both young women looked at each other and suddenly, they burst out laughing. Ellen laughed so hard that her belly ached. Wiping tears from her eyes with one hand, she took Eleanor's hand with the other.

"You are not mad at me? You surely noticed that I provoked him?"

Eleanor nodded. "He was rude to you, first. I don't know what possessed me to listen to this man."

"You were unhappy and confused, darling," Ellen reminded her. "I fear, my dear Eleanor, that you must be even braver, now. You must face Antonio. You must explain your misgivings to him. You must tell him where he hurt you. I believe he did it unwittingly. He must learn to listen to you, and you must learn to speak your mind."

"I don't think he'll ever want me back," Eleanor answered, the elation gone completely.

"I know he does," Ellen returned. "He wants you back at any cost. He told me so himself."

"You have seen him? Why didn't you tell me?"

"If I had told you, would you have spoken with me? Would you have poured out your heart? Would you have given me a chance?"

Ellen looked deep into Eleanor's eyes, and she saw understanding.

"I suppose, I wouldn't have," Eleanor answered.

"See! This evening, you will sit at dinner with us, and you will speak to Richard. Explain yourself to your brother. He is worried about you. After dinner, you will play with your nephew and niece. You are their aunt, and you never acknowledge them."

Eleanor nodded. "I know I behaved badly. I was ... resentful and envious of you. I'm sorry. You seemed so indifferent to my situation. All you did was to moon over Richard, and talk to that ... to your cousin."

Now it was out. Eleanor was secretly jealous of Marie. Ellen pressed her hand.

"Marie is my cousin, Eleanor, but you are my sister. Do you remember the night after my engagement, when we lay in bed together? I was so happy that night, and you were part of the reason. We used to tease each other, like sisters. Eleanor, I want that back. Well, maybe not all of it, but the closeness."

Eleanor stared at Ellen, digesting the words. Her lips moved silently, not able to form the words, but her eyes were articulate enough. Ellen bent forward a fraction and softly kissed Eleanor's lips. A bump in the road jolted them apart, but a warm smile had formed on Eleanor's lips under that kiss.

"I wish we could turn back the time to that night. I was so happy, then."

Ellen's eyes sparkled.

"Richard is gone to Birmingham. Come to my bedroom, tonight. I'll enjoy the companionship. But no tickling!"

-------

The change of the atmosphere in Lambert House was palpable; even Marie noticed the change. The conversation at the dinner table was by no means animated, but their was a particular lack of tension. When they had finished eating and the servants had cleared the table, Eleanor asked Oldroyd to close the doors. When the family was alone, Eleanor stood from the table.

"I want to apologise to all of you, in particular to you, Grandmother, and to Marie. Ellen and I have already spoken, and she knows what I have to tell you. I have behaved terribly over the last months. Grandmother knows me, but Marie has only seen me in this terrible mood. I would ask you to give me a chance to start fresh.

"Grandmother, I know you meant well, but I was unable to appreciate your attempts to help me. I'll apologise to Mother tomorrow. I had an eye opener today, and I have to realise that most of what I did in the last months was misguided. I'm sorry."

Marie reached over the table to touch Eleanor's hand.

"Let me know if I can help. Sometimes, it is easier to speak about things with a stranger."

"What do you intend to do about your husband? Don't you think he deserves some thought, too?"

Old Lady Lambert, as usual in the last years, came straight to the point. Eleanor nodded, but she blushed.

"I am not quite ready for him. I need some more time to examine my feelings. That situation is not my fault alone."

"I never said it was, dear. You both have to resolve it, though, before you destroy everything."

"Please, Grandmother, do not push me!" Eleanor pleaded.

The old woman looked grim.

"I do not have enough time left to be patient. I am sixty-seven, and I want to see you happy again before my time comes."

Eleanor stood her ground.

"That just means I have to make sure that I can be happy again."

The old woman raised her eyebrows in surprise, but then she nodded.

-------

Oldroyd cleared his throat.

"Commander The Honourable Earl Parker to see you, Milady!"

Ellen looked up from the newspaper she was perusing. She looked at Marie. Her cousin blushed prettily.

"Show him to the tea room, Oldroyd, thank you," Ellen replied.

Richard was not yet back from Birmingham, and Eleanor had taken the coach to visit Harriet Carter. Ellen rang the bell, and Evi appeared, wearing her servant's uniform. The girl was still skinny, and no amount of food changed that.

"Have some tea brewed, Evi, and bring it to the tea parlour, please!"

Ellen was always courteous with her servants. The girl curtseyed, smiling at Ellen, and left. Evi was not loquacious, even though she had learned to speak English. When she spoke, she had a peculiar, even funny accent.

Together with Marie, Ellen went into the tea parlour. Commander Parker shot up from his chair upon their entrance, and he kissed the proffered hands. Ellen greeted him and expressed her joy to see him again. Marie concurred to that. Earl Parker explained then, that his command over the Clotho had ended, and he was living in his father's London townhouse for the moment, while his own Berkshire home was being remodelled.

Marie expressed her interest, and Cmdr. Parker told her about his possession which he had inherited from his uncle a few years back. Ellen noted that it was only sixteen miles away from Woodbridge Manor.

The tea was served, and the conversation continued. At one point, Ellen excused herself and left Marie and the commander to continue their talk. When she returned to the tea room, the atmosphere in the room appeared changed. Marie gave Ellen a shy smile, and the commander seemed at a loss for words.

Ellen expressed her hope to see more of Cmdr. Parker soon and was rewarded with a grateful smile from Marie. The Commander then asked Marie whether she would ride with him the next morning, and Marie accepted with a blush and a smile.

When Cmdr. Parker had finally taken his leave, Ellen could not help but ask Marie how their conversation had gone in her absence. Marie admitted that the Commander had expressed his interest in her. When Ellen asked whether Marie welcomed his interest, her only answer was a blush and a nod. Ellen left it at that. She had already learned that Cmdr. Parker was a fine young gentleman. Careers in the peacetime Navy were slow, and he had been promoted to his current rank only three years ago. He had spent those three years on the African coast, in the Clotho, and thus had little chances to find a wife. To marry a widowed countess, even a French one, would be quite a coup for him, although it would probably end his career. Marriages with the former enemy were frowned upon.

Eleanor returned from her parents' home, an hour later. She sank into an upholstered chair and sighed heavily.

"Mother gave me God's True Wrath when I told her of Allday and how he tried to hit you."

Ellen sighed deeply. She would have to confess to Richard, too. Fortunately, her sources had already informed her that the Reverend Allday had fled London, and she would not have to worry too much over Richard killing that man.

"So tell me, Sister, what do you plan with regard to your husband?"

Eleanor looked doubtful.

"Yesterday's events did not change anything of what happened between Antonio and me. If anything, his behaviour drove me into Allday's arms."

Mentally, Ellen rolled her eyes at Eleanor's stubbornness. Then again, she did not try to talk her into anything. Eleanor was no fool, though.

"What? No admonishment? What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Ellen stated, truthfully, for she had no plans at the moment other than to wear Eleanor out. "There is nothing you would listen to, so why risk an argument?"

"I don't believe you, Ellen. You have concocted something. Admit to it."

Ellen shrugged.

"Believe what you will, Eleanor. I just happen to think that you must want to be with Antonio again. Talking you into it will not help at all. Just remember that I see him from time to time. If you need me to pass a message, let me know."

Eleanor stomped her foot in exasperation.

"You are planning something!"

"Look, dear," Ellen started reasonably. "What good will any of my efforts do if even your grandmother and mother cannot convince you? I know you to be stubborn as a mule; you proved that when you believed in Antonio's survival when everything spoke against it. Now that you want him out of your life, you are just as pigheaded."

Eleanor already turned crimson at the mention of Antonio's shipwreck and subsequent odyssey, but Ellen's last sentence drove tears into her eyes.

"How can you say that?"

"Isn't it true? You left him. You refuse to see him. You refuse your relatives' offers to mediate. That must mean that you want him out of your life. Correct me if I err!"

"That's not true! I just ... I want ... How can I... ?"

"See, you are not ready yet. You have not made up your mind. Don't worry. Antonio is not over you, yet. I'll hear about it if there's any danger that he might take an interest in another woman, and I'll warn you."

Still Ellen spoke calmly.

"What do you mean by that? He wouldn't, would he! I'm his wife!"

"Really? You left him, and from what he, or anybody else, knows, there is no telling if and when you'll return. But don't worry. He is still hoping for your return."

-------

For the next days, Ellen did not mention Antonio again. As a matter of fact, she was at a loss what to do. It was a newspaper article in The Times that gave her an idea.

Gran Colombia, Antonio's home country, had suffered the loss of Venezuela and Quito, in 1830. Renamed New Granada, it was still in the throes of civil unrest. This unrest was fuelled by the interest of the United States of America in the Panama province where the building of a canal, linking Atlantic Ocean and Pacific Ocean, was proposed. The British government was interested in a stabilisation of the country, and the Undersecretary of State for Foreign Affairs was quoted in The Times as announcing a diplomatic initiative to that effect. A delegation was to be sent to New Granada to sound out the options.

From there, Ellen's scheme took shape. She spoke to Richard that evening and persuaded him to play along. Consequently, Richard asked Antonio who was still an active associate in Lambert & Norton to travel to Oporto in Portugal. Ostensibly, one of the wineries was in financial problems and a buying opportunity presented itself for British investors. Antonio promised to act for the bank but, as Ellen had anticipated, he asked for Richard and Ellen to look after Little Henry during Antonio's absence.

Of course, Antonio knew that Eleanor would have the benefit of this situation, but, as he confessed to Richard, he hoped that this would 'soften her up'.

The preparations took a week, but then, one morning in late September, Ellen took Eleanor aside.

"Dear, you may want to stay upstairs until after lunch. Antonio will be over briefly, to bring Henry. He is leaving London, and he wants us to take care of your son."

"Where is he going?" Eleanor asked, surprised.

Ellen just shook her head, seemingly in despair, and nodded towards the tea table where the newspapers were lying. The newspaper with the story about the Oporto winery was on the table, too, but Ellen had seen to it that the Times article about New Granada was on top.

Eleanor looked over the paper and turned pale. With a voice choking with emotion, she held up The Times.

"He is going back to Colombia?"

"It is his country, Eleanor, and he feels there is nothing and nobody to hold him back in London."

"That's it? He is just leaving? Leaving his wife and son, to go back?"

"You really shouldn't blame him, if he did, Eleanor. When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"So you side with him against me, too?" Eleanor accused.

"No, dear, but I can see his side. Put yourself in his shoes."

With a sob, Eleanor fled upstairs, and Ellen could hear the door to her room slam shut. She made a face, then, unsure of whether her ruse would work.

Indeed, at eleven o'clock, Antonio's coach drew up, and he alighted from it with Little Henry at his hand and the nurse in tow. He had barely entered Lambert House when a ghostly pale Eleanor barged into the entrance hall. Antonio looked up, and in his eyes, Ellen could see his hurt. Eleanor spoke with a trembling voice.

"Would you p-please give me a minute of your time, Antonio? I need to speak to you, before you leave London."

Mutely, but clearly with apprehension, Antonio followed Eleanor upstairs, while Ellen looked at Old Lady Lambert and crossed her fingers.

It took almost three hours for Eleanor and Antonio to emerge from her room, and it was clear that Eleanor had cried, for her eyes were puffy and red. She cast a brief, murderous glance at Ellen, but Ellen hardly minded. Eleanor and Antonio were holding hands!

By contrast, the look that Antonio cast at Ellen conveyed nothing but deep gratitude. Antonio spoke first.

"Ellen, would it be asked too much to look after Enrique for two or three weeks? Eleanor will accompany me on the journey to Oporto."

Eleanor still glared at Ellen wordlessly. A tentative smile on her lips, Ellen approached her sister-in-law and offered her cheek.

"Either kiss me or slap me!" she challenged.

Eleanor took a deep breath, and it was clear that her emotion still ran amok.

"I want to do both, but I cannot slap a woman pregnant with my brother's child," she answered, before she bent forward to kiss Ellen's cheek. "That does not mean I will not get even with you!"

"I have no desire to slap you, Ellen," Antonio exclaimed, and he soundly kissed Ellen's other cheek, to the relieved chuckle of Richard and his grandmother.

The old woman looked at her granddaughter sternly.

"Do talk to each other on that journey! Antonio, note what your wife is saying, and don't belittle her anymore!"

-------

Ellen helped Eleanor while the latter packed a valise with clothes for the journey. That is, she sat on Eleanor's bed, watching her pack.

"Will you take one last piece of advice from your deceiving sister-in-law?" she asked suddenly.

"What kind of advice?" Eleanor asked suspiciously.

"When you and Antonio sleep together, take the initiative. Pleasure him. Make him know that you will not subject yourself to him again. Trust me, he will like it!" Here, Ellen grinned. "Do not fall into the same pattern as before."

Eleanor blushed, but she smiled.

"We have spoken about these matters, too. I told him about my misgivings. He promised to heed me." She paused. "Ellen, what you did made me very angry at first. You deceived me. I am grateful, but I may have problems trusting you in the future."

"I can imagine that. I hope that, with time, you will come to trust me again. Now hurry up! Your husband is waiting!"

-------

When, two months later, Ellen gave birth to a baby girl, Harriet Eleanor Carter, Eleanor and Antonio had returned from Oporto. Another month later, Eleanor, together with her mother, served as godmother for her youngest niece. After the ceremony, when she was standing alone with Ellen, she suddenly gave her startled sister-in-law a long hug.

"Ellen, will you return today's favour? I have missed my monthlies twice, and if it's a girl, I want you as her godmother. After all, she would never exist without you."

Unable to speak, with the emotion she was feeling, Ellen just nodded. As if the world had conspired to fill Ellen's cup of joy to the brim, Marie approached them.

"He has proposed to me!" she squealed, unable to control her voice.

Indeed, in the background, Ellen could see Cmdr. Earl Parker standing with Richard, Antonio and Anthony Carter, and they shook his hand, one after the other, and toasted him. Ellen looked at her cousin and her sister-in-law. Life could hardly be better, she thought. There was a nagging fear that one day, a devastating fall from this happiness might occur, but then she shrugged and smiled at her two companions. She would fight to retain their happiness, if need be.



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Chapter 45: Closure, May 4, 1887


"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here..."

As soon as the Reverend started into the burial service, Anthony Carter, 4th Baron Lambert, followed his own train of thought. He had sat through too many burials, recently. His uncle Antonio had succumbed to pneumonia, two years ago. A half year later, Esra and Ruth Turner, his wife's parents, had died within two weeks of each other. Aunt Marie's husband, Sir Earl Parker, had broken his leg badly, last autumn, and he died, just before Christmas.

Now, it was the Carters' turn. Sir Richard Carter, GCB, 3rd Baron Lambert, had passed on, three days ago. He had died peacefully in his sleep, at age eighty. He had been at his office as usual, in the new building of Lambert&Norton, doing his normal workload. He had gone to bed like every day, but on the next morning, Anthony's mother had found his body cold.

Of course, the shock was severe for her, as it had to be. They had been married for fifty-eight years, not counting almost three years of engagement, and Anthony had found his mother barely coping with the loss. She came out of her paralysis only when the arrangements for the funeral were discussed. Anthony had planned the burial in London, where all the important people of his father's acquaintance would have a chance to give him the last honours. For Lord Lambert had been a very important man. Not only a millionaire banker himself, but also an adviser of fellow financiers and of government officials who all sought his insight and impartial views.

However, Lady Lambert had vetoed his plans and insisted on a simple burial service in the church of Matcham where they had married.

Anthony cast a glance at his mother. She was flanked by his aunts, Eleanor Ruiz de Costa and Lady Marie Parker, her closest friends, who supported her as she'd had to support them in their mourning, in the last years.

Anthony looked up, stirred from his musings. The Reverend had lost his thread, and he stuttered badly, trying to get into his flow again. The man was terribly nervous. Anthony could understand that. After all, the Reverend Singleton was not used to performing a service in front of his sovereign.

In the front pew to the right sat the dumpy figure of Victoria I., Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Irelan and Empress of India. The Queen had insisted on attending the service out of friendship for Lady Lambert who had been her erstwhile tutor and lifelong friend.

Anthony knew that his mother had been with the Queen in the first terrible days after the death of Prince Albert, and again, four years ago, when her favourite servant, John Brown, passed away. It was kind of the monarch, nonetheless, to attend this funeral so close to the celebrations of her Golden Jubilee as Queen.

Anthony felt a movement on his right side. Sarah, his wife and the new Lady Lambert, was kneading a kerchief. She was almost as distraught over her father-in-law's death as her mother-in-law. After all, she had been his adopted daughter for a few months, before her real father claimed her.

Sarah was a wonderful wife for Anthony. People had ridiculed him for marrying the daughter of his own wet nurse, but he had never regretted his decision to marry her, three years after the death of his first wife.

Naturally, his thoughts strayed to his first wife. It had been an arranged marriage, for Edwina Archer, the great-granddaughter of Sir Robert Norton, brought her family's shares of Lambert & Norton as dowry. Nevertheless, the young couple learned to love each other, and when Edwina died after giving birth to their first son, Anthony mourned her deeply.

Their son, Andrew, sat in the second pew, with his wife Beatrix, their two sons, Richard and Robert, and their daughter, Ellen. Beatrix was the granddaughter of Anthony's aunt, Marie Parker. In Beatrix, the beauty of the O'Shaunessy women had resurfaced, and she was a favourite of Anthony's mother.

Andrew was Sir Andrew Carter now. With the Peerage passed on to Anthony from his father, the lesser Baronetsy that had been bestowed upon Admiral Sir Anthony Carter was now vested upon Andrew.

Over his musings, the service had proceeded, and they had to stand for the prayer. This gave Anthony a chance to look to the right. His sisters sat in the pew behind the Queen.

Siobhan sat with her son Reginald. Poor Siobhan! Her marriage had lasted but two months before her husband, Major John Pryce, was sent off into the Crimean War against the Russian Empire. He fell in the glorified but senseless attack of the Light Brigade in the Battle of Balaclava. Siobhan had just given birth to Reginald when she received the news, and she never married again. Reginald Pryce had, to his mother's relief, decided against a military career. He was a staff writer at the Evening Standard and he contemplated to run for Parliament.

Harriet was accompanied by her husband Benjamin York, and their three daughters. Benjamin was the second son of Samuel and Rebecca York. He was a member of Parliament already, but he had nowhere near the drive and abilities of his father Samuel. Nevertheless, he was a good husband for Harriet, and Anthony liked his unassuming demeanour.

The prayer ended, and they sat again. The clatter of a scabbard against a wooden bench was heard above the noise of sixty people sitting down. That had to be Henry, his cousin and best friend. Henry had fought in the Crimean War, too, where he served as Fourth Lieutenant in the Sea Lion under Captain Jonathan Hornblower. The Navy ships had few chances to distinguish themselves in that war. Nevertheless, Rear Admiral Sir Henry Ruiz-Costa was the hero of their generation, since he fought several engagements in the Far East, in the 1860s. Lucky Harry, as they called him, enjoyed not only professional success but also a wonderful marriage. Lady Moira Ruiz-Costa was a catch. Being the oldest daughter of James Palmer, Lord Brougham, and his wife Maddalena, her dark beauty eclipsed even her mother's, and she was the sweetest woman imaginable.

By contrast, their three sons, as Anthony knew, had been the terror of Eaton. Fear- and reckless, they had defied teachers and prefects, but they still managed to finish school with passing grades. All three of them had started military or naval careers, but the oldest, Alfons, had since left his regiment to take over his grandfather's seat on the board of Lambert & Norton.

The organ began to play now, and the church service was coming to an end. Anthony rose and pulled on his black gloves. Anthony, Andrew, Reginald Pryce, Sir Henry Ruiz-Costa, Alfons Ruiz-Costa, and Benjamin York stepped forward.

The six men hoisted the coffin on their shoulders and started the slow march out of the church and into the bright sunlight.

Lady Lambert, supported by Eleanor Ruiz-Costa and Marie Parker, walked behind them. Next came Siobhan and Harriet, before the Queen, led by Major Hornsbury of the Guard, followed.

There was another large crowd of villagers outside who stood to give honours to their squire. They marched slowly to the back of the churchyard where the Carters had their grave sites. There was the monument, erected in memory of Admiral Sir Anthony Carter, GCB, late Admiral of the Fleet, with a smaller stone commemorating Harriet Carter, Anthony's beloved grandmother.

Next to their grave, the coffin with Richard Carter was now lowered into the ground, while his widow leaned heavily on her sister-in-law and her cousin. As soon as they had lowered the casket, Anthony stepped to his mother to offer his arm for support. Gratefully, she leaned on his arm while Reverend Singleton performed the closing part of the ceremony.

The hollow sound of earth falling onto the coffin gave finality to the moment. Richard Carter, Baron Lambert, was no more.

The endless stream of people offering their condolences was clearly tasking Old Lady Lambert, and Anthony was grateful when the last tenant had spoken the customary words of sympathy.

Coaches took them to High Matcham, and here, in the great hall, the mourners assembled for the banquet. The Queen has excused herself already, as she was due to open yet another railroad line in the afternoon. Therefore, there were mostly family members sitting at the long tables. When they were all seated, Sir Henry Ruiz-Costa stood and raised his glass.

"My Uncle Richard was never a soldier, yet he was known as a brave man and valiant sword fighter. He was a banker most of his life, yet he was never known to ruin debtors. He was a powerful and important man, and yet he would offer his helping hand to anyone in need, however unimportant they seemed to others. This is why so many people mourn him today.

"To his family, however, he was more. A loving father, grandfather, uncle, and friend. A man we could turn to when we were in need of support. But most importantly, he was, for almost sixty years, the loyal and loving husband of my dear Aunt Ellen. Together, they had the greatest achievement: a marriage led in love and harmony.

"I raise my glass to the life and achievements of Richard and Ellen Carter. Their life together gives all of us guidance in our pursuit of fulfilment and happiness."

A chorus of agreement was voiced, and then the guests raised their glasses to the toast.

With a visible effort, Ellen Carter rose. When she spoke, her voice was strong, though, belying her fragile appearance.

"Dear relatives and friends, over sixty-two years ago, in February 1825, I arrived at High Matcham, a homeless, friendless orphan. One of the first people I met was my Richard. I can honestly say that I loved him immediately, well, almost immediately. We made mistakes in those first years, we were young and inexperienced, after all. But our early quarrels, fierce as they were, could never quench our love. Later, something wonderful happened. The longer we lived together, the more we learned about the other, the deeper our love grew, and with it, complete trust.

"Three days ago, when we went to bed, he bade me 'Good Night' and added 'I love you'. This is my great consolation. In his last words, he affirmed his love. With this sort of closure, I can now await my own time in patience, until we will hopefully be reunited in a different world. I say a different world, not a better world, because there is nothing I desire but what I had those last sixty-two years."

Ellen Wilkes Carter sat down. All through the hall, kerchiefs were in use. While the men blew their noses to mask their emotions, the women wept openly. Once more, the widow stood, and her voice was changed.

"Dry your tears now. Let us celebrate his life and legacy, for he left all of us the richer." She raised her glass. "To your life, darling Richard, wherever you are. I am the luckiest woman, for I was allowed to share your life!"

-------

Ellen Carter lived on for another thirteen years. She spent most of those years at Woodbridge Manor. She even saw her first great-great-grandson born in 1898, and the boy was named Richard. She died of a severe cold on a rainy February day in 1900, aged ninety-two years. She was laid to rest at the side of her beloved Richard.


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The End
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Posted:  2005-09-26
Last Modified: 2010-10-15 / 03:08:03 pm
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