Wellchester Triplets Series: A Historical Regency Romance Box Set Read online

  Aunt Margaret looked briefly at Johanna, who kept her face expressionless with great difficulty. Aunt Margaret knew instantly that this was not Johanna’s idea, nor her wish, but Sylvia was their mother, and her wishes were to be respected. Coming on the tail of their recent journey, Aunt Margaret suspected that Sylvia and Ira had discovered some information which was prompting them to rush into marriages for both daughters. This concerned her. She wanted to know what they knew that she did not.

  “Before we begin that discussion, may I inquire whether you found your journey burdensome in some way?”

  “I would not say burdensome, Aunt Margaret, but shall we say that the world is moving at a faster pace than either Ira or myself had realized. Our daughters are both of marriageable age, and we feel as though if put into the responsible hands of an appropriate husband, both would be in an ideal situation to begin their families now rather than later.”

  Aunt Margaret did not fully accept Sylvia’s explanation but it was evident that none other would be forthcoming. Therefore, she nodded and asked Melody to hand her a small, leather-bound book she kept in the drawer of the desk beneath the front window. “Hand it to me, dear,” she told her. Melody complied.

  With great pomp and elegance of gesture, Aunt Margaret opened the tiny book and she ran her withered finger down each page, stopping from time to time, as though in consideration. She mumbled, shook her head and began again with her finger down the next column. This happened several times and at the conclusion, she closed the book and looked at Sylvia. “There may be two or three appropriate suitors for your daughters. Of course, you and I both understand that your daughters are not impoverished and that fact has a certain attraction of its own. However, I am quite certain that you and Ira do not wish your daughters to be married for the sake of money or position, but rather for love.”

  “Their father and I are not entirely convinced that love is the most important consideration at this point in time. That is why we have come to you. We do not wish to wait until chance happens upon us, but to take the matter into our own hands and consult yourself, a fine woman of considerable reputation who can guide us.”

  Aunt Margaret nodded her head. “Indeed, you have come to the right place. I will tell you what I am willing to do. I will begin my inquiries, from the most to the less desirable gentlemen, and those closest to our village. If there is interest on their part, I will relay this to you, and if there is equal interest on your part, I can arrange a tea so the parties may meet. Will that meet with your approval?”

  “Indeed, it would.” Sylvia sipped her tea, content that she had accomplished the business she had come for and now the ladies could relax and begin their more frivolous gossip. There was considerablegossip to be had, and as the ladies seldom had the leisure opportunity to enjoy this luxury, they took full advantage of it. It was nearly an hour later before Sylvia, Melody and Johanna left Aunt Margaret’s cottage and proceeded back to the farm. When they arrived, Ira was waiting, a question in his eyes. Sylvia simply nodded and he nodded in return. The plan had been set in motion.

  Word came from Aunt Margaret the very next week. It appeared as though a Mr. Peter Walters had been queried and had expressed some interest in becoming acquainted with Melody. Sylvia was very excited and quickly assembled a new frock for her daughter that she might look her best. There came the question of chaperone and although Aunt Margaret always presided over these occasions, it was decided that Johanna would also go along. Not only would she serve as a witness to Mr. Walters’ suitability, but on the off chance that he was not interested in Melody, Sylvia would not have wasted her money entirely if Johanna were also on display.

  Johanna disliked this arrangement as it made her feel like a livestock animal, and not a woman seeking a husband with whom to spend the entire rest of her life. There was only one man she was interested in sharing her life with, and he was not to be invited. Nonetheless, she put on her best dress and accompanied Melody as they walked to Aunt Margaret’s house.

  The girls arrived a few minutes early that they might have time to prepare the tea and cakes. These were brought into the drawing room in advance and Melody settled herself upon one settee in a very ladylike posture with her back to the window that the sunlight might create a glow around her silhouette. When the knock came at Aunt Margaret’s door, Johanna arose to answer it, welcoming Mr. Walters and extending Aunt Margaret’s excuse that she was not as active as she had once been. It caused pain in her knees to rise from the chair. Naturally, Mr. Walters was not the least bit interested in Aunt Margaret’s health, but had come to meet and visit with Melody.

  Mr. Walters entered the parlor, kissed the hand of Aunt Margaret and bowed low before Melody, extending a small bouquet of baby pink roses toward her. This was a generous, if not premature gesture, and it obviously made Melody a bit uncomfortable. Aunt Margaret intervened by urging Mr. Walters to give the flowers to Johanna that they may be placed in water to preserve them. He obliged and asked if she might sit at the other end of the settee where Melody was nervously perched. Aunt Margaret nodded her approval and they waited for Johanna to rejoin them.

  Mr. Walters was not a young man, although he was not unpleasant to look upon. His hair was red and a bit coarse, but the positive side of that appeared that his hair was rapidly leaving him and soon there would be only his scalp to require approval. Johanna kept her opinion to herself as Mr. Walters was not only there as a suitor to Melody and not her, but Melody appeared to be quite enchanted with his attention. Mr. Walters entertained them for the better part of an hour by telling them about his farm. It seemed he kept two hundred head of cattle, a dozen horses, three hundred or so sheep, geese, chickens, and a pond well-stocked with fish. He even boasted of his hives of honey bees and fields of wheat and barley. Melody complimented Mr. Walters on his achievements while Johanna covered her mouth and the opinions that threatened to insult him. She could tell that Melody was already in danger of becoming besotted.

  Aunt Margaret took her turn and interjected reports at length of her health issues. The other three listened politely but Johanna’s attention was affixed to the great grandfather clock in the corner as it ticked off the minutes before she could once again be free of this insidious social gathering.

  Aunt Margaret cleared her throat which acted as a cue to the others that the social hour had come to an end. Mr. Walters obligingly rose to his feet, clapped his heels together and bent to take Melody’s soft hand in his own. He bid the other two women farewell and took his leave, whistling and tapping his top hat as he settled it upon his balding head. As soon as his person was out of hearing, Melody exploded in a series of birdlike compliments about Mr. Walters and Aunt Margaret’s adeptness at choosing him as a possible suitor. Aunt Margaret sat and absorbed the praises, nodding her head as though she had expected this outcome all along.

  “What will happen next, assuming he likes me?” Melody wanted to know.

  “I should think that Mr. Walters will contact me and express a desire to meet with you once again. I will confer with your mother and we will decide the nature of your next meeting. In the meantime, you will comport yourself as a lady, and contain that overabundance of enthusiasm I am seeing, for it is most unflattering. A lady should pretend disinterest, no matter how enthusiastic she might be. The gentleman should be encouraged to win her approval and not to believe that he already is in her good graces. There is a system and a purpose for this, Melody, so I advise you to listen to me and to your mother.

  Johanna, straightening her skirts, rose to her feet and began collecting the dishes and remains of the tea. “And you, my dear Johanna, what was your opinion of Mr. Walters, may I ask?”

  “I am not Melody and my opinion does not count,” she attempted to circumvent the question.

  Aunt Margaret smiled and nodded. “I should have expected such a response from you, my dear. However, I ask you once again, for Melody’s sake. What was your opinion of the good Mr. Walters?”

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p; Johanna looked to Melody as she cocked her head and said, “Melody you are my sister and I love you, and therefore I will give you my opinion, but keep in mind this has nothing to do with me and you should not take me seriously.”

  Melody was confused. “Did you not like Mr. Walters, Johanna?”

  “To be bluntly honest, Melody, I found him to be quite a bore. It pains me to say that, but you must remember that you and I, while we are sisters, are very different from one another. He who will make me happy may be unpleasant to you, and the same is true for you. Please disregard my opinion and follow your own heart.”

  “Very sound advice from a woman so young,” Aunt Margaret approved. “I believe we will deal with Melody first and save you, Johanna, who will surely be the more difficult between the two of you, until after Melody has been wisely settled.”

  Johanna smiled at Aunt Margaret and knew instantly that the two of them had formed an unspoken pact. In fact, Johanna had the distinct impression that Aunt Margaret had some sort of plans afoot. A chill went down her spine as she hoped that might be true.

  Chapter 15

  William stood before King George IV, his head bowed and on one knee. He delivered his report from the Scottish lowlands, including the battle that had laid him low. He left out the part about Johanna, for he did not want her, or her family, to become part of any conversation that could put them in danger.

  The King conferred with his strategists, and it was determined that William, after a short visit to his father to was ailing, should be deployed back to northern England as he was familiar with the countryside. This time, however, he was to track and quell the Luddite uprising, an area that while not dangerous to the crown, was bothersome in that it hampered the manufacture of goods and collection of taxes the King required to fight the battles he had on the other fronts.

  At sunrise, William left for his father’s lands which lay north of London and were, incidentally, on the way to his final destination. As he approached the manor house, he could see that things were in disrepair. The fences needed mending, and there was not a single sheep, cow or horse in evidence. Crops lay withered in their fields and even the fountain that sat at the head of the drive was dry and filled with grass and weeds. Not a flower bloomed and no one was about.

  William knew better than to knock or ring the bell. Only his father remained within and he was ill. He could no longer afford servants. Opening the door, he called, “Father? It’s William. I’ve come for a day’s visit, sir.”

  He heard a voice from above and bounded the staircase, two steps at a time. There he found his father abed, the covers reeking with bodily fluids and flies buzzing about. William almost gagged. He threw open the windows and shoved the covers to the floor, finding his father equally soiled. “Stay put,” he said tersely and went to find the copper tub used for bathing. It took him some time to fill it as he’d had to start a fire to first heat the water. As the water heated, he looked through the cupboards and could find nothing to cook.

  William felt immense shame that his father had gotten to this state. While William could not tend to him due to his military duties, it would not have helped to procure a servant as his father would have turned the servant away and used the money for drink or to gamble.

  William found his way to the cold cellar in the garden and there he found some vegetables left from the last garden which were still edible. He grabbed the dried meat he carried with him and as he filled the tub, he prepared another pot with the ingredients and water and set it over the fire to cook.

  William worked tirelessly, for his time was short. He had to be on his way. By the time darkness came, his father lay in clean bedding, his body bathed and a sort of watery stew sat in a bowl on his side table.

  William climbed atop Raven and rode for the nearest neighbor. There he persuaded the cook to look in on his father in exchange for all the money William had on his person. There was little he could do, but he suspected this may be the last time he saw his father for the spirit had gone out of the man, as well as his body. While he loved his father, he did not aggrieve himself, for his father had chosen his own fate. He was not at liberty to defy the King and stay at his father’s side. A brief hug and a hand on his father’s weakened arm was all that he had to leave behind.

  William rode for the north, for the industrial towns where the Luddites were most active. These were hard-laboring peoples, often living on the same premise as where they worked. Having lost their customers, they were now hungry and dirty—some had been ejected by landlords and stayed in huddled groups around a small fire. Misery was everywhere and William could understand why they were rebelling. They were too stubborn to work for the wide-frame manufacturers for pitiful wages. They would rather fight, and lose, to a man, than to surrender their talents and serve as slave to a machine.

  William frowned. It was the way it had always been and would always be. Progress and invention would steal the job from the man for he was fallible, and the machine seldom broke. The only way to control the absorption and eventual loss of artisan knowledge was to market to people who could not get access to the cheaper, inferior goods. William knew where that was – America. He’d seen the need for European goods when he had visited there with his father. The Americans had plenty of raw materials, but their populace tended to be those who did not fit in elsewhere. Successful people did not emigrate to a distant land, leaving their family and all that was familiar behind, unless there was a very good reason. Freedom from tyranny of the British monarchy had provided their initial unification. King George was no longer in power and his son had threats from every direction. Was he strong enough to balance the British treasury and manpower reserve? Could he keep a balance that would allow Britain to survive?

  William thought of Johanna. He knew he wanted to return to Tymington, sweep her off the street onto the back of Raven and ride for the port where ships waited to carry passengers to America. He doubted whether Johanna would agree to such a thing, but his spirit was wild and was looking for an outlet. Taking Johanna to America was just what he was looking for.

  Sure enough, by the time William arrived to join his contingent, word had preceded him. His father had died the night he had left. He was now William Bower, Lord Cunningham.

  Chapter 16

  William found private lodging in a small apartment above Thales Tavern. It was not auspicious lodgings for a Lord, but it suited William and met his needs adequately. The room was clean and the bedding free of vermin. When he threw open the window at night, he could hear the voices of patrons on the streets. It was not only comforting not to be alone, he also had the advantage of overhearing many a conversation between those who sought to plan rebellious acts. The tavern provided a convenient place to eat good food and William was careful never to dress in uniform, faring better to blend in with the locals and listen in on their plans.

  He wrote to his father’s solicitor, a Mr. Ormsby who maintained offices in London. He instructed Mr. Ormsby to sell the family estate, settle his father’s debts and any monies left over should be forwarded to him at the tavern.

  William’s assignment was to blend in and gather intelligence, relaying this via rider back to the King. His instructions would be likewise returned and William suspected that as long as his assignment was handled smoothly and regularly, there would be no reason for the crown to move him elsewhere.

  He had met a fellow while drinking ale one night, a man whose name was Henry Odd. Henry was a braggart and the self-appointed leader of a small, but violent, group of Luddites. Henry never suspected that he was divulging his plans to one of the King’s men and so he told William nightly of each and every new development. Had Henry been a bit brighter, he may have caught on to the fact that his planned uprisings were most often anticipated and broken up. Henry and his men would arrive on location, only to find uniformed soldiers waiting with handcuffs. From time to time these battles got out of hand and men were hurt and even killed. Still, Henry had no idea from w
here the information was leaked.

  One night when Henry was particularly in his cups, he bragged to William that he and two other Luddites leaders were to combine their gangs and sink a ship docked in the harbor that was carrying a shipment of wide frames and supplies for a local large manufacturer. Their plan was to hide one of their own aboard the ship until such time as the crew either found other places to be at night, or had crawled into their bunks and gone to sleep. Then the Luddites plan was to put down the guard left aboard ship, and to allow the other Luddites aboard to destroy all that was within the hold. Furthermore, they planned to take the ship out of the harbor and to sink it as they sailed away in a dinghy, thereby setting back the manufacturer as they scrambled to find a new ship during a time of war.

  William alerted the troops and a series of signals were developed that William might communicate with them at the last moment and the skirmish avoided. Unfortunately, there were additional Luddites, sympathizers, drinking at the tavern nearby, and when word got out that their plans were to be implemented that night, a virtual crowd appeared on the docks. William alerted additional troops and one of the bloodiest nights in the Luddites uprising commenced. William himself was not injured, but the toll was high. Soldiers and Luddites alike lay bleeding and injured, like so many pieces of driftwood along the dock. The local physician refused to become involved as he was afraid of being considered a Luddite himself.

  William was desperate to help the injured, but there was only so much he could do. He had only one person to turn to and thus he sent a courier to Tymington with the request that Johanna, and possibly her sister come to help aid those who were injured.

  Richard was in the smithy when the hoof beats could be heard pounding down the lane toward the Wellchester farm. Alerted, he emerged and watched as the horseman bounded toward him.