The Younger Son by Karen Blayne

Oh by the way red tape first.

Be warned these short stories contain mature content or naughty bits and as such may corrupt you if you’re under 12, 16, 18, 21 or 25 depending where you live thus they are not suitable for you so put them back on the shelf and let them age for a year or two.

They were sort of scribbled for fun. They were first posted on asstr.org. If you’ve paid money for this book just be aware the author has not received any payment. In fact no one has permission to charge money for this book and copyright is retained by the author. ©2017   Asstr.org accepts donations if you’re feeling rich or even if you’re not.

Luv Karen

Jennine quickly searched another body on the battlefield deftly removing a few coins and cutting off useful buttons. She left the bloody uniforms to others. She was after small items that were easily hidden and carried. They would compensate her in some small way for the damage done to the crops and the forced enlistment of the farm's workers.

She came across an officer by the quality of his uniform that was still alive. She gave him a sip of water from her bottle and continued on. Nearby there were two other officers still alive in the carnage. She called out to her sister and together they spoke rapidly. If they captured two of the horses then they could load the farm wagon up with the officers and someone might reward them for keeping them alive. They worked quickly to harness two cavalry mounts up then they had to lift the three men onto the wagon. Charlie called out “How about a lift then?” Simone thought he looked cute so although he wasn't dressed in officers uniform he was lifted up on to the wagon as well. Jennine thought he could well help with protecting them all with his sarjent's stripes and tossed up a few muskets and pistols that were lying around the battlefield.

They stopped at the cottage and loaded up what few belongings remained. Jennine washed and bound up the wounds before using the cottage's blankets to keep them warm together with a few great coats they'd picked up from the battlefield. Charlie's leg was splintered as was one of the officer's arms where it had broken then they set off north. Simone passed a pistol to Charlie and made signs that he should load it. Jennine led the pair of horses and Simone walked alongside smiling at Charlie. Jennine snuggled up to the first officer she'd found at night, purely to keep him warm of course.

The wounded soldiers gradually came round and one when addressed in French remembered enough to be able to hold a conversation with Jennine. No, he didn't think it was a good idea to go to the field hospital. They'd probably die of fever. He'd just like to go home. Then he collapsed with the effort of speaking. Simone and Jennine looked at each other and shrugged. They would take them home then if that's what they wanted.

It took more than a week to walk to the coast. Twice they discouraged looters with the pistols and muskets. Charlie managed to shoot a few rabbits but even so Jennine's small collection of coins dwindled. Eventually on reaching the coast they traded the pair of horses and wagon against passage to England with a fisherman.

The French fisherman set them down on the quay and Charlie took command. He searched through the pockets of the officers and their socks and discovered a few silver and gold coins. Enough to hire a carter to carry them to the nearest home of one of the officers where they were welcomed with open arms.

John might have been a younger son but his sisters Mary and Susan were delighted to have him back. Nash and Abraham were placed in the best guest rooms and given the best possible nursing care, well after John's of course. Charlie was placed with one of the farmer's families who took in Simone as a guest as well. Jennine was found a bed with the maids and continued to help nurse the three officers. It was only as Abraham recovered and conversed with Jennine and Simone that the remarkable story of how they had left everything behind to help the soldiers home. Not that there was very much left after the battle to keep them.

Talking to John his mother discovered that although Nash was a younger son, Abraham was an heir. All thoughts of sending them on home disappeared and Susan was given the task of keeping Abraham in good spirits. Mary thought she rather fancied Nash. She was realistic enough to know that there were more females than unmarried earls and dukes and a pleasant younger son would do her nicely. Besides if papa gave her the cost of a London season as a dowery, yes a younger son would be just right. As Nash recovered so he found himself more and more in company with Mary, he watched as Abraham became enthralled with Susan. “You know we ought to write and tell our families we're home safe and sound.” “Good grief man, my mother would be here the next day with a carriage to carry me off. I think I need a bit more time convalescing and being pampered. I'll write in a day or two.”

Nash looked at John and Jennine, whilst his mother paid attention to the two girls, Jennine was working her way into John's heart. He wasn't ready for entanglements so time for him to leave before Mary grew too attached to him. He wanted time to recover from both his fever and from the sights he'd seen on the battlefield. He owned an estate a few days travel to the north that he'd never visited. He'd spend a day or two there and recover slowly. As a younger son his family didn't attach quite so much importance to him as the heir.

Barnard lay back on his bed. He wondered what a third son would have been called. Colin or Charlie? Still, he could get used to life as the heir. They'd had word back that his brother was missing presumed dead more than a month ago. Pater had had a quiet word with him and raised his allowance. Now he was renting a proper house rather than just rooms. It wasn't quite enough to be able to afford the expensive high flyers but certainly enough to afford some pretty maids or maybe even two.

Priscilla looked at him, well he was probably the only chance of a job other than on her back, young pretty governesses or maids were not in demand. Too many soldiers had fallen in the war, and there were too many unmarried females for the ones who were left. Pity she'd been too particular in her season, then to find out that her father hadn't made any provision for her on his death and title and estate had gone to a very distant cousin. “So just to clarify my duties will include being fondled and having to warm your bed?” “Yes to put it bluntly.” “Twenty pounds a quarter and you only put it up my bum.” Now that sounded like something he ought to try. Odd really he hadn't thought she'd be experienced enough to be into these kinky things still you never could tell. He fired the older maids.

Two days later she looked over his shoulder as he struggled with his bills. “Would you like me to sort them out?” He nodded with relief. Doing sums and his accounts had never been one of his strong points. She sat down and started to group them. Some bills were duplicated as the tradesmen had submitted a second or even third copy in the hope of being paid one day. Some had submitted a monthly statement that included invoices already sent out. These were ruthlessly weeded out of the to be paid pile. In the end Priscilla had reduced the ones to be paid to a manageable pile. “Now do you have a footman to carry the money to pay these?” Barnard shook his head. “You could hire Harriet at the same rate as me, then we could walk together. I'm sure she'll be agreeable to the same terms as I.” Barnard too relieved to have his accounts sorted out agreed and an hour later Harriet stood before him. “I'm sure I can accommodate you with my lips. Shall we try?” She knelt subserviently before him and stroked his manhood to erection then lowered her lips over the end.

“How could you?” “Oh my old scullery maid let slip it was a way to keep a man happy but not get in the family way when I caught her one night with a footman doing exactly that.” “Well it adds variety I suppose I'd better try it sometime.”

The following morning Harriet took a cup of tea up to his room and found him looking like death warmed up. After lighting his fire she asked “Goodnight last night then?” “Bloody awful, I dropped a monkey last night.” Five hundred pounds on a game of cards was he totally stupid? “I'm sure you can afford it.” She tried to gather her wits and left him to his hangover.

When Priscilla heard she shook her head, “I wonder if we could divert him away from cards?” “I'm not sure how and although I've lost my reputation by working here at least I'm not in the club yet.” “We could make him comfortable that way he might stay home more?” That evening before he went out Priscilla bet him a kiss that he could go without a drink all evening. He looked at her oddly but a bet was a bet and he could never resist one. That evening he played cards and being the only sober person at the table lady luck smiled on him. Twenty-eight thousand and change. It had been fourteen until the last hand when the last player had said double or quits. Fourteen thousand on the turn of a single card.

The next morning he was full of himself how he'd managed to win so much money on the turn of a single card. He gave a handful of notes to his valet, Priscilla and Harriet. “We could retrieve our dresses?” Harriet nodded and they went off to the pawnbrokers where they had pawned their dresses and hadn't really expected to be able to redeem them. They stood in line behind a cockney girl who was pawning a pair of boots. They fell into conversation with her and discovered she'd just about hit rock bottom when her man had been knocked down by a dray. “It's all I have left of him but they're no use to me.” “What will you do now?” “Dunno to be honest. I'm not afraid of hard work but times is hard and there isn't much around.” “Would you like to work as a maid for us?” Blurted out Harriet. “We can't afford much but it would be a roof over your head and food.” “We'd never get away with it.” “We can pay her out of our funds and he'll never notice the difference in food.”

“If you wish to gamble have you thought about the exchange? No one can fuzz the cards.” Bernard looked up “What does one do? Stick a pin in a list of names?” “Not quite.” Priscilla knew all about the exchange. She'd been following her father’s efforts for years. She suggested a company that she knew her father had researched that was just about to pay its first dividend after five years of spending all its income in efforts to build up the company.

Harriet thought they should speculate with some consolidated annuities or Consols. “Speculate? But surely they’re boring, they just pay the same interest each year.” “But the price fluctuates according to how much demand there is in the marketplace.” Barnard decided to risk five thousand in the Consols and five thousand in four other companies that were suggested by Priscilla with a few thousand in one he liked the name of. Harriet told him he should wait a month before seeing how they had done and in the meantime why not invite his cronies round for a meal. It could be done for twenty-five pounds much less than the cost of an evening's gambling. Barnard dithered. The girls were dressed in their own clothes back from the pawnshop. All Barnard knew was there was something different about them. They looked more at ease and more attractive somehow. Harriet took him in her mouth whilst Priscilla kissed him deeply on the lips and allowed his hands to roam over her breasts. After he'd ejaculated, he agreed to their plan and Harriet wrote out the six invitations that afternoon.

“So what are we going to provide for his friends' entertainment?” Jane spoke up “If you they can borrow a dress or two I know a half a dozen girls that wouldn't mind being fed and if paid a guinea each they might well fondle a few Hampton Wicks.” Harriet looked blank, “Use yer loaf of bread.” Cheeped Priscilla, “Did I get that right?” “Don't she know nuffin? Loaf of bread, head. Apples and pairs, stairs. Lucky dip, kip. Trouble and strife, wife. Hampton...” She was interrupted by a blushing Harriet “They could have a bath here first.” “I'll have Grace bring her dad's violin.”

The girls arrived and were soon chatting excitedly in the kitchen as they awaited their turn for the hip bath on the kitchen floor. Curtis, Nash's valet came down to collect a cup of tea for his master and was greeted with cries of alarm. Lilly put him to the blush with “My good man.” Whilst staring pointedly at his crutch. “Lilly you're so crude sometimes.” Lilly put her tongue out. Harriet took pity on Curtis and ushered him outside. “Cup of tea is it? I'll bring one along in a moment or two.”

The girls wrapped in a large towel sneaked up to Priscilla and Harriet's bedroom where Jane carried the towel back down for the next one. They oohed and aahed over the dresses. “I could get used to this style of living.” Needle and thread came out as quick adjustments were made to the sizes. “We're as fine as fippence, as neat as nine pence.” The girls crowded round the small mirror to admire their reflections.

“Are you ready to make your entrance?” “I should say so.” “Did someone mention food?” They trooped downstairs into the dining room determined to have a good time where Priscilla suddenly realised she'd only put out eight chairs. She started to gather up a few more when Lil stopped her. “Don't trouble yourself luv. We can make do.” And with that she plonked herself down in the lap of the nearest diner. “Hello deary. I'm Lil. You don't mind sharing a plate with me. I can feed you a bit at a time with my fork.” She lent in and kissed him on the lips. “Now don't be shy, what's your name then?”

Susan sidled across to another diner. “Is this lap taken?” “I'm a good girl so don't go expecting to dip your wick.” “Give her a drop of port first then ask her again.” “Not so high.” The hem of her skirt was lifted and the gentleman's hand placed on her knee. “That's better.” “Where's me nosh?” “Here what's this then fish? Ain't we having no jellied eels?” Jane lifted a plate from the sideboard. “Jellied eels, cockles, whelks and winkles for them that wants them but don't forget there's roast beef to follow so leave some room.” “If he's an honourable should his hand be cupping Cath's...” “He's a dishonourable honourable.” “You leave it right there ducks. They're just jealous.” Betty took a carrot between her lips and fed it slowly into her lord's mouth. “Bet you can't do that with the peas.” “Oh is that what you call them green things?” “You know I can't fit another thing in.” Dot stepped off his lap and undid the top of his breeches. “There now you can fit another slice of cake in. I'm sure.” She toyed with him for a moment or two then reached in “And what's this then?” Stroking him with her fingers.

Priscilla tapped her glass. “Now ladies and gentlemen for your entertainment tonight Grace will play a few tunes. She's an excellent harp player.” There were loud groans from the males, “But unfortunately she forgot to bring it, so she'll play her fiddle instead.” There were loud cheers from the audience. Barnard had never heard half the bawdy songs that the girls sang that night and eventually the girls demanded an impromptu dance so the carpet was rolled back and Grace played away far into the night. They even managed a waltz or two once Priscilla showed them the steps with Barnard. Harriet whispered in Priscilla's ear “Are you sure they all been given permission by the Patronesses.” Which sent Priscilla into whoops of laughter as she looked over the tiny dance floor where total disregard was being paid to the correct distance between partners was being observed.

Eventually the evening broke up and the girls slipped off their borrowed finery and curled up on the floor rather than walk through the unlit streets at night. “I might not be averse to doing something like that again. Was them real Lords? I never been to them gardens with the dark walks I heard about, if we could borrow them dresses again...” Grace left the sentence unfinished. Barnard murmured he'd think about it so Lil gave him a sample of what to expect from her in the dark walks.

The wait was far more exciting than a single game of cards as Barnard fretted if he shouldn’t have put quite so much money in the consoles but eventually the month was up and the new prices were in. Consols were up but his special pick turned out to be a fraud. Still, one of Priscilla’s picks had shot up in value after paying its first dividend. He wasn't too sure what a dividend was. It didn't seem to be his money back. Perhaps it was a form of interest? Still, it was nice to have. He wrote to his father boasting about his success on the stock exchange and his income from a dividend. His mother worriedly asked her husband was it some sort of gambling that Barnard was doing? “It can be but I think I’ve misjudged the lad. I’m not sure where he got his capital from but I was expecting to hear he’d been gambling his money away in fact I heard he’d lost five hundred at one sitting so that may have turned him away from gambling.” “They're too many temptations for a young boy. Some scheming opera chorus girl might get her claws into him.” “The best way to learn is by experience. I think I'll give him a small increase in his allowance and allow him to take over his own estate. You never know at the rate he's going he may well repair the family fortunes.” “As if they needed to be repaired.”

For only twenty pounds a quarter he thought his new nicely spoken maids were very good value indeed although he wasn't quite sure why they needed to have a good wash after sex. Yes there was nothing to this stock market there were those who'd lost their shirts on it but with Priscilla and Harriet looking over his shoulder he felt confident enough to even invest some of his allowance.

“Good grief.” Barnard stood and reread the letter. Pater had signed over Chillington to him. Harriet was blatantly reading over his shoulder as she gave him a shoulder massage. “So is it a house or an estate?” “It's an estate that was to come to me when I married or reached the age of thirty.” “I'll get Curtis to pack your clothes then and we can all go and inspect it.” Barnard wondered why and thought about the word all. Harriet and Priscilla looked at him. “You weren't thinking of leaving us behind were you?” “But I don't know anything about farming.” Priscilla gave him a kiss “I'm sure you'll manage splendidly.”

They travelled west by mail coach setting off late in the evening, as Priscilla pointed out with two maids and his valet inside it was practically the same as a private coach but more economical. Jane wrapped up warmly and sat next to the driver, snuggling up to him for warmth. They arrived tired at the nearest inn to the estate after only twelve hours on the road which Barnard thought privately he could have bettered in a curricle and team of four but on the other hand having Harriet and Priscilla in the coach with him made the journey pass so much faster. Mind you at daybreak when Priscilla had passed him a book about seeds and stuff he'd read two pages and thrown it back at her. “Far too complicated. That's what I hire a steward for.” The last part of the journey was in an old dilapidated coach guided by a postillion hired out from the inn.

There was a look of strong disapproval from the housekeeper when Barnard made known that his maids were to be given guest rooms next to his own. “Will you be wanting Priscilla to go through the housekeeper's ledgers?” asked Jane in front of Barnard. Mrs. Shepard looked affronted. “There's no need for a maid to look through my books!” “Never the less she's better at sums than I am so yes she'll go through your books.”

Priscilla sat in the library and started in. The current set didn't balance but Mrs. Shepard explained that she hadn't had chance to bring them up to date. Then Priscilla skimmed through the previous ten years before looking up at Mrs. Shepard. “I noticed you've purchased a dozen good quality sheets last year and the year before. Shall we go and inspect the ten dozen sets of sheets you've purchased over the last ten years? Since no one has lived here and you've had no guests in that time I'll expect to see them all in pristine shape unless of course you'd care to resign now for personal reasons before I look any further?” Mrs. Shepard hung her head, Jane who'd been stood outside sneaked in. “Shall I see her off the premises?” Priscilla nodded.

Barnard looked up as Priscilla returned alone. “Cooking the books was she?” “Shall we say she decided to resign before I looked any further.” “Do I need to provide a reference?” “I think not.” His eyebrows raised so it had been quite serious then. “Where will I find a new housekeeper?” “I thought Harriet?” Barnard nodded.

Thrup stood in the library with his ledgers. He wasn't sure what to make of Barnard. He'd heard rumours of him bringing his fancy pieces with him so he wasn't that hopeful especially after Mrs. Shepard had been seen leaving the premises. He didn't hold with turning off old retainers. “If you'd like to take me through the ledgers I can precis them for his lordship whilst he challenges Harriet to a game of billiards.” Well she was softly spoken at least. Thrup allowed himself the luxury of hope. She was knowledgeable as well spotting a couple of minor errors as they looked through the books. “Now has anyone been visiting the tenants and labourers?” Thrup squirmed “Well not as you might say recently. That is to say in the last say ten years.” “Well lead on and we'll go over the estate. His lordship has been reading up on new varieties and I'm sure he'll want them sown.” Him reading up on seeds yes well he'd believe it when he saw it.

It was good to be back in the saddle again. She made notes as she inspected the estate with the steward. She asked questions both to himself and to the tenants and labourers as they went round. “I'm sure I can take care of any problems without the labourers' input.” “Humour me Mr. Thrup, as far as I can see the estate looks in good hands but sometimes people don't like to mention things and they get overlooked.”

“Well?” questioned Barnard. “Mr. Thrup thought your idea of trying different varieties was worth trying out. Overall the estate looks in good shape but there were one or two small inexpensive changes that could be done to improve the lot of your tenants.” Barnard blinked. “Well see to them then Thrup.” Dismissing the man. Afterwards when Thrup was sitting in front of the fire with a glass of ale, he mused to his wife. “He might not know what he's doing but that maid of his looks like a lady fallen on hard times. Oh Mrs. Shepard has left under a cloud.” “Good I never did like her. So you think he'll work out? As long as the girl's there, without her I don't know. She was talking to the tenants' and labourers' wives today. I think she'll be going out again tomorrow to sort a few things out.”

Well he was certainly landed gentry now. He relaxed with a fishing rod. Further up the bank Harriet had a rod out as well. He wouldn't mind living in the country. London was all right but the brass name plates always seemed dull compared to the country.

Feeling confident on their return to London Barnard allowed himself to be talked into attending a ball. Quite different now he was the heir. The prettiest girls fluttered their eyelashes at him in a flirtatious manner. One blonde he remembered as being quite cutting to him, last time, he had attended as a second son. Some connection with trade or other, her grandfather was a nailmaster or some such. Still there was a dowery there and she was beautiful to look at. Her name was Eleanor as she reminded him as they sat down together for supper and she'd be delighted to drive in the park with him the following day. Barnard blinked, he didn't remember asking but he wasn't that slow. Felton had just the right equipage for a drive in the park he'd send Curtis to borrow it first thing in the morning.

Nash rode north with a groom for company who'd return with the two horses once he had arrived safely at the village inn. The travel had set him back but he forced himself to enquire which was the steward's cottage and walked slowly there where he sat down on a bench by the front door unable to go any further for the moment. The steward's wife came out and offered him a glass of water. When he asked to see the steward, she was uncertain whether to send him on his way or send the boy after the steward. The quality of his uniform decided her and Nash was left dozing in the sun.

“Now then what can I do for you?” “I know I've been in the wars but Cluett don't you recognise me?” The steward peered more closely “Good Heavens I wasn't expecting to see you my Lord.” “Well as you can see I'm here. I want time to recover so no my Lording if you please. I need funds and a place to live?” “Funds no problem at all. The income for the last three years is available, some twenty five thousand. Since you'd like to be discreet I suggest I'll find you the hundred I've got lying around the cottage then we'll open an account at the bank in the market town for you and I can transfer funds into it.” “How is the estate?” “Well with many going to join the army there are fewer workers left. I have drawn up some plans to invest money in the estate to improve the income. They're in the cottage awaiting your approval.” “I'll take your word for it. Ten thousand enough?” The steward nodded his mind full of new drains and ploughs. “I suggest you take the old dower house. It's close to the village. The manor house is rented out but we can terminate that soon enough.” “The dower house will do fine.”

“So was he a tramp?” A distracted steward replied “No no, far from it. A wounded soldier who needs time to recover, he's taken the dower house.” “So there's money then?” “Leave him be although he'll need a girl at least to look after him.” “Fletcher's eldest?” “She'd do fine.”

Fanny was wanted up at the steward's cottage. She tided herself up and hurried along to see what Mrs. Cluett wanted, with luck there'd be a penny or two in it and she could do with a few coppers for ribbons. “Fanny, a Mr. Sullyard has taken the dower house. He's just back from the wars so he might need a bit of help round the house.” “You mean a job?” Mrs. Cluett nodded. “I'd best be going then.” Fanny scurried out the door. A job that would mean money for ribbons and if it was live in there'd be food as well.

She entered through the kitchen door and quietly looked through the rooms until she found him dozing in a chair. “If you please sir, I'm Fanny, Mrs. Cluett thought you might have need of someone to look after you.” His eyes opened and Fanny caught a glimpse of male admiration before he covered it up. “Well you'll need someone to make you your tea this evening.” Nash hadn't thought that far in advance. “Fair enough you're hired, a pound a month.” Fanny looked puzzled, “How much is that in pennies?” “Eight pennies a day plus board payable once a quarter.” He reached down and pulled out a purse. “Here some pay in advance and a sovereign to buy some supplies.” He handed her a handful of silver coins and a gold one. She looked blankly at it. “I've heard of gold coins but never seen one before. Is it real? Will they take it?” “They should do, now off you go. Can you sew?” “My sister Alice is better at sewing.” “Tell her she's hired as well and she's to make you up some new prettier dresses.” Fanny dipped a curtsey and scurried away to tell Alice about her good fortune.

Mr. Walford held the coin up in the air. “Mr. Sullyard gave you this you say and he's taken the old dower house. I'd best open an account in my ledger for him and enter it as a credit. Now then what would you like to buy? I've some nice slices of ham here.” Fanny carried away a sack filled with food to the kitchen.

Nash rose from his chair and followed his nose to the kitchen where Fanny had laid out three plates of ham with boiled potatoes and carrots. He pulled up a stool and waited expectantly. His nose hadn't deceived him as he tucked into the plate before him. “I think you've done well. Alice is it? What do you think?” Alice looked up at him innocently “It's not even Sunday and we're eating meat. Is that right? Do we get meat here every day?” “Depends on the cook. You never know we might get fish one day.” Fanny smiled and thanked him for the compliment.

They helped him slowly climb the stairs and he had a look around. There was a nursery there with a blackboard and slates. He thought about Fanny not knowing her sums well enough to be able to know how much a pound a month was in pennies. Perhaps tomorrow after he'd rested, he'd think about it.

The next morning his body rebelled and he decided he wasn't going to risk the stairs. He'd eat in the nursery. When Fanny looked in on him, she offered him some bacon between two slices of bread for breakfast. It sounded ideal.

“No Mrs. Windham he's not seeing anyone just yet. I think he tired himself out yesterday. He's still abed.” The Vicar's wife turned back frustrated in her efforts to find out more about the new stranger. At lunch time Nash suggested they ate in the nursery so Fanny and Alice carried trays upstairs. He was looking down at the garden when they came in. “Know where I can get a gardener?” “Not really, a lot of men went off to the war and not so many have come back. Would a girl do? There's plenty available?” “See who you can find.” “Mr. Cluett was by. He wanted to let you know he's going to market tomorrow if you'd like a ride.” “Aye well I'll rest today. Alice you'll be wanting to buy some material and I dare say there'll be a wider selection at the marketplace.”

Mr. Cluett arrived shortly after sunrise and soon Nash, Alice and Mrs. Cluett were sitting on the floor in the back surrounded by produce. Mr. Cluett was perched up in front overlooking the pair of heavy Shire horses. It was nearly ten miles to the market town and Alice had never been that far before. They overtook a carter's dray that was plodding along slowly but surely. Nash reflected back to driving a curricle and pair, a far more dashing affair than a pair of Shires and the farm wagon, but they'd get him there and that's all that mattered.

They left Mrs. Cluett with the wagon at the marketplace so she could get the best price for the produce. Alice was surprised by the size of the market town on market day. She'd never seen so many people all at once before. She was sent along to view the materials and told to wait for them at the bank. Mr. Cluett and Nash entered the bank and after a few words with the manager Nash had his own account set up with five thousand pounds transferred in from the estate account.

They met Alice coming towards them as she made her way to the bank and she guided them back to the market stall that had the best selection. Mr. Cluett wondered off in the direction of the cattle pens and was soon inspecting what was on show. Tentatively Alice indicated four bolts of cotton in basic colours. The trader picked up the first and began to measure it out. Holding one end to his nose then stretching out his arm to measure each yard. He paused when Nash pointed out one or two other ones and Alice had to explain they were totally unsuitable and impractical but that these other ones, which were far too expensive, were a much better colour. Nash saw her look longingly towards the silks on the end. He was feeling tired so turned back to the trader and started to haggle for everything on the stall. Eventually a price for all his remaining stock including needles and sewing cotton was agreed and they walked back to the bank to get his money. Alice wasn't sure if it was Christmas or she was dreaming.

Nash treated Alice to tea and cake whilst they waited for the Cluetts to finish their business. “I've never had a shop brought cake before.” She confided. “I like Fanny's better but there again I don't have to do the washing up. There's a lot to be said for eating out.” Rested they walked back to the wagon where their material had been loaded in the back so Alice stood guard whilst Nash went to purchase some slates and chalk. He picked up four books and brought them outright declining an offer to join the bookstore's library. Mr. Cluett had managed to get a new plough loaded as well as the material. Nash closed his eyes and dozed whilst Mrs. Cluett confided to Alice she didn't understand why men needed toys but it seemed they did. This plough according to Mr. Cluett would slice through the ground faster than the old one and only need a pair of horses rather than three. “Though what we're to do with the odd horse I'll never know.”

When they got home Fanny helped Nash to walk to the parlour where four girls sat waiting to see which one would be hired as a gardener. Nash collapsed into a chair. Fanny chided him “You should never have gone to town. You'll kill yourself and then where would I be? Without a job that's where.” The four girls looked on open mouthed. He glanced at the girls. “Should I ask?” “Four would be gardeners.” “They're hired. Best help Alice get the shopping in from the wagon.” Fanny gathered up the new employees and together they carried in the precious material under Alice's watchful eye.

“How do you know which are weeds?” Lucy asked. “Dunno but the ones with thorns are roses.” Rebecca replied as she dug up a dandelion. “Oh did you hear we're all to report to the nursery in the mornings after he's had his breakfast.” Lucy nodded and stared at another bit of green plant.

Nash handed them all a slate then wrote the first half dozen letters of the alphabet out on the board for them to copy down. He walked round correcting a letter here, and reminding a maid there that F came after E.

“It's hard work them letters. You has to think.” Lucy was complaining to the gardener's lad at the manor house. “But you don't get to be head gardener unless you can read and write.” Said the lad gloomily. “I could teach you.” “How would I pay you?” “Think you could find me a few pretty seedlings in return?” Well they had a few over from the beds so why not and spending time with Lucy was nice. “I daresay the head gardener might find you a few special plants if you darned him a few socks.” Lucy thought she might be able to manage that and knit both of them a pair or two as well. She took a stick and traced the outline of the first few letters in the sand then had Colin make a copy.

Gradually Nash's maids progressed to words. Lucy was the first to be able to write her name out. Rebecca thought it was unfair since her name had more letters than the others. Later Rebecca declared she'd never had to think so hard in all her life but changed her mind when they started on sums.

Alice pulled the new silk nightdress on over her head and glanced in the mirror. It had turned out much better than she'd hoped it would. She'd save it for her bottom draw but before then she couldn't resist sneaking down the back stairs to the kitchen to let Fanny admire it. “So what do you think?” She asked pirouetting in front of Fanny. “Very nice.” Came a deep masculine voice as Nash came in from the garden where he'd been racking his head trying to remember which plants were weeds and which were not. Nash slipped his arm around Alice's waist and drew him against himself. Fanny looked at Alice blushing furiously. “To get the full effect of silk you really should run your fingers over the material.” She teased. Alice blushed a deeper shade if that were possible. Nash ran his fingers up from her waist. Alice covered them with her own. His hands gently cupped her breasts. Alice held them firmly in place and wiggled her bottom gently against him. Fanny looked indulgently on the pair of them as Nash's thumbs stroked Alice's nipples to hardness. He nibbled the nape of her neck and Alice arched back to give him easier access. She knew she should be saying no but this was so enticing, she'd say no in a moment or two, for the moment she was lapping up his attention. Nash's right hand slid lower down back to her waist then lower still. Alice was definitely moaning now as his hand stroked and petted her where her mother had warned her not to let boys hands wander. She had only mentioned boys, not Mr. Sullyard. She twisted within his arms and brazenly kissed him. His hands running over her bum as he kept her pulled tight against himself. Somehow her legs parted and she was rubbing herself against his thigh all thoughts of the word no had disappeared from her mind. Her legs were totally mush. Fanny could hardly believe her eyes, Nash was showing more signs of life than he ever had before. Was her sister about to be taken on the kitchen table? She cleared the dishes quickly off to save them. At the kitchen door four curious heads looked on. Alice open her eyes good grief everyone was watching her exhibition, the thought was enough to take her over the top and she shuddered against Nash before becoming a dead weight.

“I do hope we're all getting silk dresses if that's the effect they have.” Came a voice from the doorway. Alice blushed deeply and slipped out of the door as Lucy stepped up to Nash. “She wasn't very polite was she, leaving you in this state?” She unfastened him and finished him off by sliding her lips over his hard rod.

The girls gathered together in the kitchen to discuss what had happened. Alice mentioned how soft his hands were and how his deep voice always melted her insides. She didn't want to end up with child but the feelings he could invoke were delicious. It was decided that purely in order to help his recovery by taking an interest in life the girls might just accidentally brush up against him from time to time and although two had better remain in conventional clothing to answer the door the rest would wear silk around the house. “You realise that we have to keep the house clean and tidy or the vicar's wife will start interfering and boss us about or finding him a wife.” This was not to be thought of, especially as the vicar's wife had a niece whom no one wanted to work for.

Lydia thought about her beloved horses. Dad had told that they must be sold. She wondered if that mysterious officer who'd taken the old dower house would buy them. After all they had stables didn't they? Reluctantly she saddled Caru and gathering Bronwen's bridle up then she rode reluctantly to the dower house. She rode into the courtyard behind the house and dismounting merely dropped the reins to the ground. She'd inspect the stables first to see if they were suitable. Nash peered out of the window at the sight of someone looking over the boxes in the stabling. Interesting, he thought he'd go and see what was happening. “May I help you?” He enquired as she backed out of the third box. “Is you the wounded officer?” He didn't look particularly wounded to her. “I'm recovering certainly.” “I's come to sell you Caru and Bronwen, I's just looking over your stables. Looks like you don't have a groom to keep them up?” “Do I need both Caru and Bronwen?” “I has to sell them and if I sell them to you I get to see them sometimes. I brung them up and trained them myself but they belong to the farmer and he's a mind to sell them at the next horse fair to just anyone.” “Put them through their paces.”

Lydia turned and tucked their reins up. Then she gave them voice commands as she put them through their paces much to Nash's surprise. They looked quite useful but two? “How much?” Lydia named a figure that seemed reasonable to Nash, besides he was buying direct so no dealer's profit was involved. “Will you sell me one?” “They've always been together.” Soft hearted that was him. “Fair enough and since you've always looked after them want a job at fifteen a year as my groom?” “You'd pay a man twenty.” Came the accusation. Equal pay what a terrible idea. “I'll not pay you a man's wage. Twenty-two is my final offer.” Lydia had to think about it. “Having me on?” Nash smiled “No it's a proper offer.” “I don't have to share a bed with no stable lad?” “No, but since we haven't got one perhaps you'll keep an eye open for one for me?”

The next morning Lydia found herself summoned to the nursery where she was given a slate and made a start on learning her letters. Later Nash took Bronwen for a ride guided by Lydia on Caru in her split skirt. In the evening the more advanced students took turns to read from one of Nash's precious books.

Nash lay back on the blanket his groom had laid out for him in the sun. A little doze in the sun would do him good. When she saw him dozing Lydia thought she'd just stretch out on the edge of the blanket since it was such a warm sunny day. An hour or so later when Nash woke up he found her snuggled against his side, he didn't have the heart to disturb her so slipped his arm round her then fell back dozing. Eventually a warm damp nose came over to investigate when were they returning to a nice warm stable and proper food not just grass. Lydia sat up with a little cry. She'd been having such a nice dream. “Hello Caru, yes its time for supper isn't it.” Nash opened his eyes and they gathered up the blanket and rode home in time for everyone's supper.

“So what's he like then?” “You mean Mr. Sullyard?” “Who else unless you're courting?” “The chance would be a fine thing. He's alright, got a few odd ideas like he's teaching us to read, write and do sums. Always got his head in a book. Mind you them books has some good stories in them. Maids being swept off their feet by knights in shining armour and living happily ever after.” Said Lydia dreamily. “Would he do for mine? She's always got her head in a book.” “I don't see why not, but how you'd bring them together I don't know.” “Well we could start by lending them a book from the other. They're more than twenty shillings each by the time they've been bound and it seems such a waste if they're only read once.” They decided to meet the following Tuesday and exchange the precious books.

“You're showing him the countryside on them horses ain't you?” “Yes?” “Well we could meet up like accidental like on the side of the hill for a picnic. I can get mine out of the house. It's easy enough with her cousin so full of her earl.” “Tomorrow then?” “About noon?” “See you then.”

“It's a nice day for a picnic lunch?” Esther looked up from her book. “You mean I wouldn't have to listen to my cousin crow about the fact she's about to become a countess, well when the current Earl dies.” Her maid looked up to the ceiling innocently. “Yes I know you wouldn't say such a thing. Best see cook then for a bite to eat and we'll see if we can sneak off about eleven.” Really Eleanor was getting just the least bit tiresome. Her aunt so proud of her cousin capturing the attention of the heir, nothing would stop her crowing now.

Strange how Anne had put out one of her more flattering gowns this morning for a picnic, still it did give her a bit more confidence to face the rest of the family and Eleanor's pointed comments about she'd never catch a man with her head in a book. She'd been tempted to throw one at her but then she might damage Miss Austin's latest master piece. Now a cheaper second hand edition of a one of the gothic stories might be better but then Anne liked to read those as well. Still it did her good to fantasise.

Nash looked over the slates. The girls were coming on well. He'd heard Rebecca reading a story to the others about a Grand Duke being stuck dumb by the beauty of a handmaiden he'd just rescued from dungeons in the Wicked Count's mountain castle. Still if it inspired them to keep reading that was the important thing. “Could you spare a minute to look at Rebecca's new dress?” He nodded and was led into a bedroom where Rebecca was stood in a wrap which she dropped to the floor revealing a very sheer nightdress as he sat down. “Does he like it?” Rebecca asked Lucy who had run her fingers across his crotch. “Definitely, I'd better take care of this for you now hadn't I?” She unbuttoned him and slid her lips once more over his rod until he'd released his sperm into her mouth.

Lydia had a small picnic hamper tied to her saddle. “Are we having a picnic today?” “It's a nice day for one and I thought you might like a change.” Nash followed his groom as she guided her horse towards a small hill in the distance. She looked over her shoulder, “There's a good view from the top of the hill on the other side.” As they approached the top, they came across Esther and Anne on a blanket with an open picnic basket besides them. “Hi Anne, fancy meeting you here.” The two girls stood to one side and started to exchange the latest gossip. Esther looked up “Mr. Sullyard I presume?” “Madam you have the advantage of me.” “Just call me Esther. You had to be Mr. Sullyard, he's the only one with two horses and a female groom and you aren’t a stranger since Lydia is with you and she’s relaxed. You have two horses that I recognise which leads me to the conclusion you must be Mr. Sullyard It's the talk of the neighbourhood.”

“I’m forgetting this is the country, why you could probably tell me what I had for breakfast.” She cocked her head, “Anne did mention you drank something called coffee rather than ale. Still where are my manners, talking to a strange gentleman whom I’ve never been introduced to.” “Oh Miss Esther meet Mr. Sullyard who has been kind enough to lend you a book or two.” “Well you had a couple of hers.” remarked Lydia defensively at Nash's enquiring look.

“I suspect we’ve been set up.” “You know I was coming to that conclusion myself. Anne how could you expose me in such a way?” “Oh he’s safe enough, Lucy milked him specially before we set off.” There was a deafening silence. Lydia covered her mouth with her hand and Esther tried very hard to keep a straight face. “Would it trouble you if I were to throttle the pair of them?” “But that would leave us unchaperoned. They could just switch duties for three months. I’m sure Anne would enjoy shovelling out the stables, and although Lydia might not be brought up to a proper standard in three months mother’s dresser, who is extremely strict and has very high standards, will enjoy training her.” The two maids looked at her in horror then quietly retreated.

“Come and sit down we might not resort to such drastic measures but it might keep them under control for a while. Now tell me which books you have that I may not have read yet and I can feed you the delicacies that Anne prefers from the picnic basket.” “And let me point out Lydia’s favourites from mine.”

Nash and Lydia seemed to accidentally stumble across them every other day or so and Nash and Esther would talk about what they had read and what they were thinking about reading next whilst Lydia and Anne blatantly gossiped. Ether thought it made a change from hearing about Eleanor's life once she became a countess. “I mean his father is so old, he can't last that much longer can he?”

“Since you're eating out this evening, I've laid out your formal evening wear for you.” “Am I eating out?” “You have an invitation to eat at the manor house this evening so practically all your staff have taken the opportunity to have an evening off or at least the ones who can cook have.” “I could have bread and cheese?” “There's no fresh bread left.” Nash grinned “I'm not going to be able to avoid the manor this evening am I?” Rebecca dipped a curtsy in reply.

Nash arrived and was met by Anne, Esther's maid. “Eleanor is celebrating her engagement today and Lydia and I thought it might be an idea if you were on hand to support Esther.” Nash's eyebrow rose. He could imagine that Eleanor would be in her element. Still getting engaged was an idea, he looked across the hall to where Esther stood quietly waiting to greet him. “Should I speak to your Uncle?” Esther took his hand and guided him towards the library where she knew her uncle was having a quiet sit before the festivities. He looked up to see who was disturbing him and saw them holding hands. “Does this mean what I think it means?” “If you mean I'm asking your permission to pay my addresses then you're correct.” “You mean you haven't already asked her?” Esther wrinkled her nose, “No he hasn't not yet. I may have to ask him myself.” “I'm supposed to ask you about your expectations.” “Oh I'm a younger son but I have my own estate. Currently it brings in eight thousand a year but Cluett tells me he thinks he can bring it up to twelve.” Her uncle grinned, “and no doubt you'll play the wicked landlord and throw me out of the house unless I give you my permission?” He turned to Esther, “We've never talked about money have we. Your father had a part share in the family business, the same as me. If you wish, it there is more than enough for a London season. Now are you quite sure you want a younger son?” Esther turned and kissed Nash on the cheek. “It's my first offer or better had be shortly and I might not get another.” “Fair enough I'll leave you in the library for a few minutes privacy so you can ask and have a reply but we won't announce anything for the moment. It's my daughter's day to shine so we'll just stay quiet for the moment if you don't mind.” He stepped out of the room and motioned to Anne who was hovering close by. “I want no scandal so keep people out of the library for the moment. After ten minutes you'd better slip in and play chaperon, and keep that grin off your face or my daughter will guess.”

He entered the drawing room and offered his congratulations to the newly engaged couple. Greeting more people than he'd seen in many a year even someone's great-aunt surveying the younger crowd and murmuring that necklines weren't so high in her young day. He worked his way round the room, Eleanor was showing off her new young man who was lapping up the congratulations. She arrived in front of Esther and presented him to a distracted Nash. “We've met before, are you going to Abraham's wedding next week?” There was a total silence in the room and heads turned towards them straining to hear what came next. “Abraham? The only one I knew was my brother but he's been reported missing presumed dead after Waterloo.” Nash pulled out a crumpled letter form his inside pocket and handed it across. Barnard went white in the face as he read it and Esther guided him to a chair. She looked enquiringly at Nash. “A young French girl and her sister found us on the battlefield and brought us to John's home on a French fisherman's boat. The three of us needed time to convalesce and Abraham was quite taken by John's sister Susan.” “And he didn't think to write home?” “I think he was concerned that his mother would descend on him and he wanted a bit of peace and quiet for a while.”

Someone's great-aunt spoke up. “Wasn't Abraham your elder brother?” Barnard nodded, his mind more concerned about the money he'd spent once he thought he was the heir. Eleanor erupted. “You mean I won't be a countess?” “Well if my brother was to die without leaving a son.” The ring flew off her hand and hit him hard. “It's off.” Everyone started to talk at once. Barnard stood still in shock. Still in some ways he was better off he still had his estate and he could shock everyone by marrying his maid. Now that was an idea.

Esther's uncle called for quiet. “We have a dinner to celebrate a betrothal, and since my niece became betrothed not an hour since I'd like to take the opportunity to introduce you to him, Nash Sullyard. He's a younger son but for all that, I hope you'll wish them well. Now if you'll step through to the dining room.” Nash took his place at the table, next to him was Esther and opposite the great-aunt, who looked across the table accusingly “You haven't written home either.” She hazarded. “Yes I have the letter's right here.” He fished out a letter from his inner pocket. “You should frank that and send it on its way.” Esther looked up, “You mean his brother has died?” “Got a small cut which became infected I hear.” “Perhaps after we marry, we'd better return home and set their minds at rest.” Eleanor looked daggers down the table.