Docks 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. ©2017 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.

Luv Karen

Molly was playing in the docks when she saw one of the dock workers fall down into the hold. She watched fascinated as the foreman climbed down to inspect then called out “Go get Dr. Strivens.” She dashed to the doctor's house and accompanied him back to show him the way, the doctor carrying a pair of boards and Molly his bag. They climbed down and looked at the worker whose leg looked broken above the knee. The Doctor inspected him, Molly passed him clean rags from his bag which he moistened with a water from a bottle and gently cleaned the worst of the wounds and splinted his thigh. Very carefully they slid him onto the board and strapped him down with ties. Molly got given the job of trying to hold his head steady as the Doctor framed his head to keep it steady. “Right lads lift him slowly now and we'll carry him to a handcart.” “Where does he live love?” The Doctor asked, Molly pointed the way to the man's home.

When they got there his wife looked shocked. “How long until he's working again?” “It'll be six months in bed and maybe two months before he's recovered enough to work.” “Thank God for the society. At least we won't starve.” The doctor put boards under the sagging mattress and they carried him in to his bed. Then the doctor stripped him and wiped him clean. “Would you like some more water from the pump?” “No for this boiled water is best.” The wounds were dressed and the doctor looking at the wife in shock explained to Molly what needed to be done to nurse the man back to health. “He's broken his thigh bone which is the strongest bone in the body and that takes time to mend. He's got bruised ribs, they maybe broken, but there no real way to tell other than by touch. I'm worried that he may have injured his neck or back. If he has then he may not walk again. That's why we kept him on the board to hold him steady. So for the next few weeks he needs to keep his head straight. His wife doesn't look up to nursing him to me for the moment could you do it?” Molly nodded. “When he comes round ask him to wiggle his toes on his left foot. If he can then he's in with a chance.” “And if he can't?” “If he's lucky he'll be on crutches for the rest of his life and we won't talk about if he's not lucky.”

Molly took turns at nursing the docker over the next several months. He was an educated man who could read and write so to pass the time he taught Molly to read. Molly enjoyed reading and the Doctor was kind enough to lend her a book or two from his small collection. She asked the Vicar if he had any books she could read to the injured man and he lent her one or two precious volumes as well, but the broadsheets were the most interesting when she could get her hands on them. The docker slowly recovered and eventually was able to walk again much to the relief of his family.

That winter Molly found herself more and more at the doctor's home. At least there was a fire to keep the kitchen warm, at home with her dad only being paid when a ship came in coal and food were a bit erratic over the winter months when fewer ships sailed because of the weather.

Still the doctor's workload didn't diminish as the dockers slipped on the wet timbers. She helped out round the house putting his tools of the trade straight for him. Gradually she asked him about how he became a doctor in the dock area. “Because there is a need I suppose.”. “Why do they call you the bone doctor?”. “Questions, questions, still I suppose that's the way to learn. I'm a surgeon-apothecary and learnt my trade by apprenticeship then I was in Europe with the army and after a battle we were swamped with broken bones and many injuries and that's where I really learnt my trade. We lost so many, they died but I noticed some treatments worked better than others. After the war I had an expertise that I wanted to make available so the docks work for me.” “But why don't other doctors practice here?” “I have a small private income so together with the twenty pounds a year the club pays me as a retainer and the occasional fee I get from other patients it's enough to get by but somehow I don't think I'll ever make my fortune. The club is important you know, it makes my patients feel as if they're not accepting charity and that's important to their self esteem.” “So why haven't you married?” “Well you don't get many heiresses knocking at the door in the docks. Just to keep you happy I'll marry the first one who comes knocking.” Molly thought that twenty a year sounded a lot but obviously doctors lived in a different world to ordinary mortals. Still she often got given her dinner and talking to him about his day seemed to allow him to relax.

One day three dockers were brought to the house on handcarts. As he finished inspecting the first, he had her stitch up the wounds whilst he tackled the next. “Dampen a cloth with a spot of gin to clean the wounds before stitching them up.” Afterwards he inspected her work “Not bad. Your stitches are neater than mine at least.”

He delegated a few more routine tasks to Molly over time. “You know sometimes I think an ounce of prevention would be cheaper than all these injuries but it will never happen in my lifetime.”

Two years later coming up for Christmas Molly's dad had been out of work since late October and Molly asked the doctor over supper if he knew of any paid work she could do. “You mean a job?”. She nodded. He scribbled a note on a scrap of paper. “Take this to the address at the top and give it to the housekeeper.”

Molly stood expectantly as the kitchen maid looked at her. “You've a note to be delivered to the housekeeper?” “His words were to give it to her personally.” “Well I don't like to disturb her when she's having her morning tea. Just you sit quietly on that stool until she's finished.” Molly sat.

The housekeeper held the scrap of paper at arms' length. “After a position are you?” “A job please.” “And this is your reference then?” Molly nodded “Well the family isn't in residence at the moment so really we are fully staffed at the moment so I doubt if I can do anything but I'll have a quick read.” She read the note. “Describe who gave you this.” Molly described the doctor. The housekeeper nodded, “Sounds just like him. Still he saved my nephew so Milly will show you your bed, after that we'd better sort you out a uniform and some duties.”

As Arthur's note had mentioned, Molly was bright and learned fast. The housekeeper was well satisfied with her work. The family came up for the season and the servant's workload grew. They brought their French chef, Jean-Claude, with them from the country who appropriated Molly shortly after he sensed she could work without close supervision besides being able to read and write. Lady Burnley liked to entertain. Jean-Claude liked to prepare certain dishes himself so the task of organising the flow of dishes to the dining room was slowly delegated to Molly. She found that giving someone a task to do wasn't quite the same as doing it yourself but it had its own satisfaction in seeing staff grow more confident under her guidance.

“Lord Exeter mentioned he was in need of a valet and has offered me an extra five pounds a year.” Lord Burnley mentally agreed Lord Exeter was. The waistcoat he'd been wearing recently indicated he wasn't a man of taste. His morning coffee had been tepid once too many times this last week. “I can't stand in the way of your progress so I accept your resignation as of now. Pack your bags and be off the premises by noon and if I were you I wouldn't let Lord Exeter get more than two months behind with your pay.” Boyn was shocked this wasn't the way the conversation was meant to go at all. He'd been expecting a counter offer. He exited the chambre in shock.

It was Sally's turn to take up Martin's mug of tea and light his fire. With any luck he would be asleep. She slipped into his room quietly and put his mug down on a table whilst she lit his fire with a taper. Then she stepped across to the bed hoping not to get noticed and put the mug down on his bedside table. She'd barely put it down when a hand reached out from under the covers and pulled her under. He covered her mouth with his own and quickly groped her left breast, not giving her anytime at all to get in the mood. In desperation she reached down and dug her nails in under his testicles in the way that self defence was passed from girl to girl down the dock area. He paused in shock and she backed away carefully before dashing out of the room.

“Sally!” Oh Lord who'd caught her running in the hall. She stopped and turned round. Lord Burnley himself. “Come here girl and help me dress.” Sally obediently stepped into his lordship's chamber. “Me valet got above himself so I told him he could clear off. Now sort me some clothes out whilst I finish shaving.” Sally looked through the wardrobe and selected a plain white shirt and laid it on the bed. Next came trousers, she selected ones she'd seen him wear about the house in the country. Finally a jacket she liked to see him wear. The colour set his eyes off nicely. She glanced at him in his dressing gown and wondered if he'd put his smalls on yet. Just in case she opened the drawer where they were kept. She'd ironed them often enough.

Lord Burnley put the razor down to the side and Sally leapt to wipe the bit of soap off his face with a warm damp flannel before drying him with a soft fluffy towel. “That's better.” He undid his dressing gown and Sally held out his smalls for him to step into before easing them up his lower limbs. Next came the shirt which she carefully held so he could slip his arms in. She next held his trousers out for him then smoothed his shirt into his trousers. Standing close to his front and running her hands up behind his back to ensure there were no wrinkles. She slid her hands down over his bum tucking the shirt inside at the back before tucking him at the front. She felt herself go pink at the thought of where her hands had just been.

Waistcoat next, again she slid her hands across his chest to ensure his shirt didn't winkle under the waistcoat. She lifted out an unstarched cravat and tied it at his throat in a simple knot. She stepped back and admired her handiwork. “There you'll do.” Before kissing him lightly on the cheek, he might be elderly but he was still handsome she thought. He left the room and wandered down for his breakfast. Sally tided up and cleaned the shaving brushes, and then took careful care of the razors as she'd seen Boyn do. Afterwards she carried on with her normal duties.

Altham, Lady Burnley's dresser, came to seek her out. “Lady Burnley wishes to see you.” Sally bowed her head and followed meekly. “Ah Sally, my husband seemed more at ease this morning with a simple knot in his cravat and wasn't wearing that hideous tight jacket of his. I understand you had something to do with it since Boyn left shortly after first light.” Sally stood there practically quivering with fright. “Yes milady. He caught me in the corridor and asked for my help.” “Good. I'll speak to him this morning and recommend you replace Boyn before he gets another dreadful valet who takes advantage of him not knowing how to dress himself to best advantage.” Sally curtsied and backed out of the room not knowing quite what to think. An hour later Altham approached her once more. “You're to take up your new duties immediately. If you have any questions about how to clean spots and stains see me. I'll supervise you for the first little while. Now go and speak to the master in the library.”

“Sally I understand you're to be my new valet.” “If you please sir.” She curtsied “Well as long as I don't have to wear the latest high fashion any more I'll be happier. I suspect these valets are in league with the blasted tailors. As long as its neat and comfortable that all that matters.” Sally reflected back on his current wardrobe. “I have a friend who is a seamstress, would you like her to see if she could make you one or two things to wear round the house? I think she can manage neat.” “We'll try her out then, heaven knows she can't be any worse than my last tailor.”

Sally left and returned to her new domain and explored. She really needed to write down what he had so she could get organised. Miss Fowler might help out if asked nicely. She was a third cousin who had taken on the job of governess but since she was family when Martin had outgrown her she'd been kept on as a sort of secretary to Lady Burnley. She'd get Maria, her personal maid to ask her if she could teach her to read and write. This job might not last forever but with a bit of luck she could save up a good dowery and if she could keep the books she stood a good chance of marrying a shopkeeper. She looked around and thought the best place to sleep might be the dressing room. A room to herself luxury even if it was a truckle bed.

She went back and inspected the room carefully tidying up then escaped downstairs and out through the kitchen to visit Cathy.

“Want a job as a seamstress then one that pays by the quarter and you get somewhere to live and you get fed?” “Who do I have to sleep with?” “Me. No seriously I'm valeting Lord Burnley now and he needs some new clothes but not the sort of high fashion ones that he has just neat and comfortable ones in his own words.” “What are we doing sitting round here why haven't I started work yet?”

Cathy looked at the shirts, “They didn't set the sleeves right did they. I can do better than this certainly.” She inspected his most comfortable jackets, “Not bad I can manage something along these lines.” She met Miss Fowler and measured her up to make her a new gown. “Something like the gown you're wearing?” Miss Fowler showed her some lengths of material she had to hand. “I've been meaning to sit down with Maria and sew another dress or two but I've been busy running errands for Lady Burnley recently.”

“Well I did wonder if they would be enough work to keep me busy but I can see there will be.” She took herself off to Miss Fowler's private sitting room to sew with Miss Fowler's permission since the light was better there than in Lord Burnley's dressing room.

That evening she was startled by Altham indicating she should take her place next to her in the servant's hall. She nearly didn't recognise her own name when the butler spoke to her addressing her as Miss Webb rather than Sally.

Lord Burnley climbed the stairs and entered his bedroom. There was a fire in the grate and the room felt warm. Sally had been hemming Miss Fowler's new skirt. “Is that for you?” “No Sir, Cathy is making Miss Fowler a skirt or two and some new gowns. I'm trusted to do the hemming.” “Well make sure she runs you up one or two for yourself. We can't have my personal servant in rags.” Sally placed the sewing down carefully and stepped across to Lord Burnley. Then she proceeded to very carefully undress him. Folding clothes neatly as they were removed. She passed him his night shirt and folded the bed sheet back to make it easier for him to slip under the warmed sheets, blanket and eiderdown. “Where are you sleeping tonight?” “On a truckle bed in your dressing room.” “They have thin mattresses. Your back will be playing up in no time. Best slip under the covers with me there's plenty of room.” Sally thought to herself it would be Lord Burnley playing up in no time but she gave a shrug and slipped out of her dress and clad only in her slip she slid into the bed on the cold side. “Come closer and get warm.” She wiggled across and lay her head on his shoulder then to his amazement she quickly fell fast asleep. “Been a long day no doubt.” He said to himself.

In the morning Lord Burnley looked down at his half asleep valet, it seemed a shame to throw her out of bed. He cast his mind back years to when he'd been a young man and two of the maids had taught him to pleasure them rather just fumble them. He wondered if he had lost his touch. Start at the back of the neck and the shoulders, caress them until they grew pink faced. Only then did you move onto their breasts. As she woke up slowly Sally felt she was dreaming of her shopkeeper's son before realising it wasn't a dream at all she blinked, it really was Lord Burnley paying her lots of attention, those fingers seemed to know exactly where her sensitive parts were. All sorts of confused feelings ran through her body. She certainly didn't want to offend him, she'd just lie back and enjoy the sensations. Oh my, she moved his hand so it was more under her breast, just a little more comfortable.

He looked for the telltale flush, then moved his hand downwards soon he'd slipped his finger in where Sally's mother had told her no one was allowed without a wedding ring on her finger but she hadn't warned about how much her body would make its own demands. Then she just melted there was no other word for the sensations that ran through her body.

Afterwards they lay there. “I think the idea is I should get up and dressed before going down for breakfast.” He said lazily. She blinked “Yes my Lord, what did you do to me?” She scurried to get out of bed and into her dress. Then scurried downstairs to fetch his shaving water and coffee.

Lord Burnley stretched out in bed, life with a female valet promised to be interesting.

Lady Burnley looked down her table with satisfaction. Jean-Claude had excelled himself everyone looked well satisfied and in a mellow mood and she knew just how difficult it could be to prepare just the right dishes that met everyone's taste. She glanced towards the door and noticed a new maid stood quietly observing the meal. She'd talk to Mrs. Hodgekins about that, surely the girl must have some other duties rather than just watch her betters dining.

“Mrs. Hodgekins one of the maids was stood in the dining room last night doing nothing?” “That would be Molly no doubt. She makes notes for Jean-Claude on what each of your guests seems to prefer and then gets the list of names from your secretary about who to expect and where they will be placed then the pair of them plan where to put the dishes on the table.” “But I thought I approved the menus?” “Oh you do your ladyship but Molly and Jean-Claude plan what to prepare for your ladyship's approval and more importantly where the dishes should be placed on the table so your guests will be closest to ones that are designed to appeal most to them. I'll take you down to the kitchens and show you just how detailed the plans are.” Lady Burnley graciously condescended to visit the kitchens where she questioned Jean-Claude about the table plans. “It is the idea of Molly. She is good that one and for me it works well. She looks after the minor things and it allows me to concentrate on those dishes that best display my creative genius Madam.”

That afternoon over tea with her husband she shared the news that Molly, the new maid, was instrumental in assisting Jean-Claude achieve new culinary heights. Later that afternoon Lord Burnley sought out his son in the billiard room. “Martin your mother's dinner parties are very important to both her and myself. I will not have your mother disturbed. Jean-Claude thinks very highly of Molly so that means you may flirt with her but you will not distress her in anyway.” “Or you'll cut off my allowance I suppose?” “No no nothing so barbaric but I have noticed by the end of the quarter your money is running a little tight so I thought perhaps I'd give you a weekly allowance instead. I'll make arrangements for it to be paid to you when you present yourself each Friday to the steward in charge of Hillside Farm, our most northerly bit of land.” “But that's in the middle of nowhere, five days travel from London?” “I knew you'd understand. Molly is forbidden territory to you unless you'd prefer to move to Hillside Farm.” Molly quietly tiptoed away from the other side of the door.

Gladys stood with a tray in the kitchen. “He was out drinking last night so with a bit of luck he'll be so out of it he'll keep his hands to himself.” “Is that all you're taking a mug of tea?” “He won't be up to anything else.” “I could take it up for you?” “Would you?” Molly added a full fried breakfast to the tray then carried up it upstairs to Martin's bedroom. She walked in and put the tray on a table. Then she pulled back the bedroom curtains fully and then brightly wished him “Good Morning Sir.” Martin opened his bleary eyes. “What time is it?” “Gone eleven o'clock and I know you won't want to miss the best part of the day.” She picked up the bed tray and brought it closer to him. One smell of the fried food and Martin retched into the chamber pot. Molly took pity on him and returned downstairs where she and Gladys devoured the breakfast.

Davis, his valet, when he arrived was not sympathetic, “Well sir Molly does have a point and you do enjoy riding first thing in the morning, perhaps just limiting yourself to a half bottle of wine in the evening?”

Even Lady Burnley was amused when she heard the tale from her maid. The servants were agog to watch Molly flaunt her hips as she passed him. She found a dozen excuses each day to brush by him. Whenever Martin sought to get her alone somehow another maid or footman was always there protecting her.

Martin came up behind Molly and finally managed to catch her alone in the corridor. He slipped his arms around her waist and when she struggled to free herself turned her round in his arms and throughly kissed her. Then he heard footsteps so left her bemused as he returned to his room. Later his valet handed him a book about raising sheep and mentioned that Molly had left it with him as she understood he'd been looking for it. “Are you taking an interest in sheep sir?” “Damn her. She knows.” The valet thought it tactful to keep his own thoughts about sheep to himself.

When the family moved to the country to avoid the heat in London, Molly was taken with them. Jean-Claude personally arranged for the latest closed range to be purchased and delivered. Molly had asked him if he wanted any assistance but he took umbridge at the idea he couldn't arrange a simple purchase and delivery without assistance so she left him to help pack for the trip. He came back smiling “C'est simple. It is all arranged it will be coming by boat along the canal.”

The first thing Lord Burnley did was to meet with his steward who assured him it looked to be a bumper grain crop this year. The new horse-drawn hoes were especially effective in reducing the number of weeds.

Molly found it quiet and it was strange to see so few people about and as for the shops, well they seemed nonexistent. Jean-Claude gave his instructions “Take Molly with you Charlie when you go down to the village. Now Molly call in at the vicarage, I should think the Vicar will be inundated with cauliflowers by now as part of the tithe from Knee's End Farm. They've had a good crop this year. Take a look at what he's got, remember Charlie and his wagon are the only way he's going to be able to sell them whilst they're still fresh so offer him a reasonable price but not over the top. We'll take whatever he has and Charlie can direct you to where they'll be welcome most. He's too mean to give them away to the poor and this way we keep in with him and the poor get a few veg.” “If he's got anything else to sell?” “I'll find you twenty-five shillings and you can haggle with him to see what you can get. Keep the best quality for ourselves though.”

Jean-Claude was ecstatic when his range eventually turned up. The steward was astounded when the boatman presented the bill. “Two barges?” “Well yes the Frenchie wanted his stove delivered but my gaffer said no way was he going to risk one of his boats across the top bit of the canal. They're short of water so there's no draft for the barges. The only way to do it was to put the stove on one barge and the rest on the other and even then we had to take them through carefully. The risk of having a barge out for a month or two until they got more rain was just too high but the Frenchie said do it no matter what the cost so here's the bill and its no good asking me to take them back because there's even less water there now until they get a good bit of rain.” The steward looked at the invoice and referred it to his lordship. “Jean-Claude's range that's fine.” “But.” “Just pay it.” The steward shook his head and retired. Later after their evening meal the upper servants were sitting enjoying a quiet relax. “I've paid the invoice for the range but did you have to buy a pair of barges as well?” “I did? Oh well a mere bagatelle.” The butler looked up “You could always ship the last of last year's grain to Manchester or somewhere where you'd get a better price. I hear the miller has already lowered his buying prices against the bumper crop.” “We'd need someone we could spare who we trusted and could read and write to send with it.” “I could spare you Molly.” “Can she bargain and get a good price?” “She does much of my market shopping for me.” Molly was sent for. “I've forty odd tons of grain that we need to sell. I think Manchester would give us the best price.” “If she's going to Manchester I could do with some sheeting from the mills there and some dress lengths wouldn't go amiss.” Molly looked surprised. Forty tons was forty wagons. “You'll take the barges the range came in. Apparently we purchased them at the same time as the range.” “She'll be going by the potteries.” “You mean if there's a bit of room left on the barges she could buy seconds and sell them in Manchester at a profit?” “Won't cost us anything since the barge is going there any road.” “She'll need money to buy.” “We'll have a whip round amongst the staff and see what we can come up with.”

The steward walked down to the stables. “Albert I'm wanting two lads to do a bit of sailing.” “Smugglers short of hands are they?” “Nay I'm sending Molly up to Manchester on canal and I'd feel better if she had a bit of protection like. Did I mention she'll be carrying our money to buy and sell what she can in the potteries.” “Dan! Sam! Get theeselves here.” Dan and Sam appeared. “Molly wants to do some shopping so I thought you'd like to go with her.” “Righto, I'll get the gig out.” “I had a look at the rear wheel this morning so I think it'd had better stay until I've fixed it up.” “Well there's nowt else in stable apart from the travelling coach.” He thought for a moment “Fetch Bess out.” “Why would you want Bess she's a farm horse more suited to pulling a barge than anything else.” Sam thought for a moment. “There's a pair of barges down at the quay so just where is Molly off to for her shopping?” “Manchester, so don't get lost.” “Bloody hell that's miles away.” “Just take Bess down to the quay and Molly will meet you there.” Dan and Sam walked down to Bess's stall. “Just the two of us and a young maid all alone, just fancy that.” “Best not that's the maid that the heir has been panting round and been told in no uncertain terms she's off limits and if she's off limits to him I don't think your life would be worth living if you laid a finger on her.” “It wasn't a finger I was thinking of still just my luck.”

Molly found herself leading a large farm horse pulling two barges along the canal. Sam and Dan manned the tillers on the barges. “Yer going far?” A young girl struggling with a large bag asked. “Manchester.” “Can I come wiv yer? I've got no money but I hear they pay well for mill girls up there.” “Runaway are you?” “Well not quite Polly and me got jobs as maids with a shopkeeper. He plied Polly with elderberry wine then took her when she were tipsy he had her clothes off her and was ramming her with his thingie on the rug in front of the fire. When he were done and Polly was out cold he sort of crowed, saying he'd thrown the last maid out for being with child and he'd throw this one out an all when the time came. I scarpered this morning. I don't want no elderberry wine pushed down my throat. I can cook. I'm good at that.” “What about Polly?” “It were her idea to go and work for him in the first place. Full of she'd let him have his way with her then he'd have to marry her when she fell. One's as bad as t'other.” “Go and hide in the cabin on the first barge and tell Dan it's with my say so.”

Half an hour later a tall lean man approached them. “I'm looking for a runaway maid, called Nelly. Scrawny little thing, she ran off first thing this morning have you seen her?” “Run off with the silver has she?” “No but it's the principle of the thing. She's been my servant since yesterday and I'll tan her hide when I find her.” “She's not worth the effort surely.” “True enough I've spent an hour searching for her already. She'll turn up sometime.” He turned and stormed off up the towpath.

“Ready money have you?” “Thirty odd pounds.” “And a barge heading to Manchester. What are you after the good stuff?” “More like seconds if you have any.” The man sighed. “Makes sense and you'd need the contacts to sell the good stuff.” He led her over to a stack of plates, cups, mugs and other pottery items. He looked at her summing her up. “I could try the other potters?” “Not so fast lass, not so fast. I'm trying to work out what's for the best. I'd like to shift this lot completely, but there's more than thirty pounds worth here even at second's prices. Tell you what I'll let you have the lot for fifty.” “I haven't got fifty to my name. Lord Burnley's staff had a whip round and I've got their life savings here.” “No but you've got to return this way on the canal. Keep a few shillings back and I'll take the rest of your cash. You can have the rest on credit. That's you personally, you take the risk and you get the reward. Oh and there's two full dinner services that the order was cancelled so you'd take them as well. In fact I'll go better than that I'll take a dozen bolts of cloth from you on the way back your mill price plus 25% so I'll want to see the receipt.” “Colours and type of cloth?” “For shirts, sheets and dresses so I'll take a mixture.” Molly took a deep breath in. It was a great responsibility. She held out her hand “Done. You've straw for packing?” They added them on the first barge where they could keep an eye on them.

“A mile in a day!” “And bloody hard work it were too.” Sam and Dan swore they never wanted to see another lock again after the flight at Bosley but eventually they arrived at a millers in Marple. Nelly wondered how Sam and Dan were going to get the barges back but it weren't none of her concern, a job in a mill that was the sensible thing to do. Yet when Dan was around the sensible thing to do went out the window. “How much do you have in round terms?” The buyer addressed Dan who was on the first barge. Molly spoke up “Around forty tons. Here's a sample box.” “Well if it's all this quality I could let you have maybe...” He left the idea in the air. “I can take it elsewhere and Lord Burnley's steward mentioned there'll be more after harvest time if the price is right.” “Alf get gaffer. You'll be better off with us luv, there's two days' worth of locks above us to Manchester and you'll not get that much better price.” The gaffer came out. “She's after a good price and if she's telling the truth it's from Lord Burnley's estate and there'll be more to come after the harvest.” “What's it like?” “Good but not top quality, still forty plus tons before harvest time is forty plus tons we can mill and sell whilst the water level is high.” “Do you want your money up front or is he offering credit?” “The steward didn't say so I assume he'll want his money up front.” “Well I'm short of the ready at the moment. Still were you thinking of buying anything?” “I'm to buy material and I've seconds to sell from the potteries.”

“Alf take her up to Mellor's mill. Tell them I'm good for the money. If she likes what she sees there then have them send me the bill.” They left Sam and Nelly behind to supervise the unloading of the second barge. As Nelly said she might not be able to read and write but she could make a mark for each hundred weight sack as it was unloaded and weighed. “If I was you I'd sell them plates and things to factory workers direct. They've plenty of brass.” They pulled up the barge by the quay and Molly spoke to the salesman about how much she wanted to buy. “She's plates and stuff to sell though Mr. Henshaw. I thought as how mill girls would want a look.” Mr. Henshaw nodded and soon the barge was covered in pottery as the mill girls looked through what Molly had. “I've got no cash money at the moment but can I buy it on weekly terms?” “I'll be gone in a day or two sorry.” “Mr. Henshaw seeing as she's after cloth and you give your girls an allowance could they pay in lengths of cloth?” “You mean she sets the price, I enter it in the ledger against the girl's name then total it all up and she gets credit against that?” “Aye wiv them numbers and all.” “I'll get my ledger. Right ladies pick out what you want then we'll sort out the money.”

Soon they were joined by housekeepers and maids looking for bargains. An hour later a carriage stopped by and a very fashionable lady stepped out with her maid. “Morning Henshaw bargains to be had I hear.” Mr. Henshaw bowed before her. The mill girls stepped aside. “Now I want a complete dinner set in that pattern there.” “I can take an order for one or I can offer you a choice of two, but they're perfects, a cancelled order.” Madam inspected and madam approved the quality and price for both. “Henshaw pay her, oh and arrange to order the other set.” She climbed back into the elegant carriage and the mill girls continued their inspection. Molly looked at Mr. Henshaw enquiringly. “The owner's married daughter.”

Finally Molly looked down at her heavy purse and the few items that were left. “How much credit do I have Mr. Henshaw?” “A fair bit to be honest. I'll take those last few items off your hands. They'll do for my office. Now how much cloth will you be wanting? It's priced by the yard, cheaper by the bolt, and cheaper still by the dozen bolts and if you'll take seconds I'll take a quarter off the price.” “Seconds?” “Usually there are some with a run or a join most of its fine but you'd need to cut it out carefully.” “We'll start off with a dozen bolts for my potter, and another dozen for the housekeeper.” They haggled over the price, eventually Mr. Henshaw offered to let her have her price per yard provided she took double the quantity. Molly added up the money she'd got for the pottery. She thought about it then decided the staff would take their original money back plus half profit in cash plus half again in cloth. Mr. Henshaw handed Alf his note of how much Molly had spent that was to be set against the price for the grain.

They unloaded the first barge at Marple Mill. “Now I can let you have a good price on horse manure. You'll not want to carry with the cloth but there's no reason why the second barge couldn't carry a load and you've plenty of room to take flour back with you in the first barge.” They set off back. They'd got a much better price for the grain than even the steward had expected. At Stafford the potter was delighted with his bolts of cloth as payment for the stock he'd sent on credit with Molly. Whilst they were talking Molly's eye lit on a beautiful dinner service that was on display. “Like it? Our latest design. One of the buyers has been in from London and ordered two dozen full services. Not a custom unique design but one we hope will sell well. I could offer you this one if you'd like it?” Molly shook her head, “I couldn't afford it and even if I could I wouldn't have an excuse to use it.” “Take it with you, I'm sure Lady Burnley would like it and if not her there must be other quality around who'd be interested.” He named a price that was just within her budget. “I'll write you an invoice that shows the list price at the pottery, that way you can sell it at invoice price even though I'll give you a discount for cash.” She wavered, “Go on, think of the potters you'll be keeping in work.” Molly nodded. He pulled out a few more seconds he'd recovered from the pile that was about to be discarded and sent his lad down to search through the pottery for any others lying around which he gave her against two more bolts of cloth. As they came back along the canal word got out they had cloth for sale at reasonable prices and Molly's cash in her wooden box in the cabin grew to a respectable amount as farmers and villagers came out to see what she had.

It took two days for Molly and the steward to work out exactly who was owed what and who each bolt of cloth belonged to. They had rather more cloth than cash but eventually Lady Burnley was approached and agreed to accept bolts of cloth to be give out to the workers for Christmas. The staff agreed to take half their profits in cloth as well and at the end the steward entered a sum of thirty-eight pounds four shillings and seven pence half penny as Molly's share from the trip. More than two years pay, Molly was well satisfied as was the steward with the list of prices Molly had noted for him. Salt was cheaper in Cheshire and why the potteries would pay good money for flints well never mind what they did with them it was the money they'd pay for them that was important. Lord Burley's boats had a certain ring about them.

Molly looked up at the grandfather clock in the hall, time for the picnic lunch. She set out followed by six footmen, two were carrying baskets of food and table clothes, two were carrying a six foot long table top, two others carried the legs to be placed under each end. As they arrived, they looked up to see Henry fall from the rock face, as he fell the rope pulled Martin down with him. There was a horrifying noise as they landed on the rocks below. The staff scrambled towards them to give what aid they could. Molly looked at the odd angle of Martin's thigh and remembering the accidents in the docks cried, “Don't move him!” She dashed across to Henry but from the angle of his neck it didn't look good. She felt for a pulse and found none. Now she had to concentrate on Martin. “Carry the table top over here and smash the legs to give me splints. Then I want your belts.” She quickly bound up the bleeding wounds with serviettes from the hampers then she positioned a hamper each side of his head and cushioned him with tablecloths. The belts were used to splint his leg and left arm. When he was firmly strapped to the table top with the climbing rope, she sent one footman on ahead to get the double front doors open and to have them prepare the only guest room with double doors. “Warn them not to send for a Doctor.” She called out after him. She held his head firmly in position and they carried him very carefully in through the front door and up the stairs. “Move him very gently onto the bed. Mr. Davis could you get me some spirits, gin for preference if not cooking brandy will do from the kitchen.” Mr. Davis dashed to do as he was bid. Molly started cutting clothes off and cleaning Martin up then pouring brandy over the open wounds. “Now Mr. Davis I'd like you to wear a clean shirt and a clean pair of trousers each day at least for the first two weeks and keep everyone else out of the bedroom.” Mr. Davis raised his eyebrows but then thought better of it. His master was in Molly's hands just at the moment and he had confidence in her.

Lady Burnley coughed from the brandy fumes as she hovered by the door. “How is my son? Why didn't you send for the doctor?” Molly ushered her out of the room. “He's very badly injured and the injuries are far worse than the local doctor will have seen before. He has a broken thigh bone for a start and I'm concerned he may have injured his spine. We need Dr. Strivens from the docks. He's had a lot of experience with these sort of injuries.” “But will he come?” “Send a footman with twenty guineas in a purse and a bank draft for eighty, that's more income than he sees in a year. For that sort of money he'll come especially if you arrange a coach for him.” She turned and went to her room and put on a clean gown then returned to the bedroom.

Lady Burnley conferred with her husband. “Well they do have a lot of accidents down in the docks and Dr. Strivens was with the army before so I'd say follow Molly's advice and give her a free hand. She's very fond of our son you know almost too fond if the truth be told. She'll do her best for him. Now I'd better start calling in favours, a groom to ride to London and as many good teams as I can arrange at inns on the way back.”

Sam stood in the hall. “Now where do I find this doctor of yours?” Molly wrote down the direction and scribbled on the back of the paper, I need you and signed it Molly. Then Sam was away. Molly and Martin's valet stripped all the clothes off Martin very carefully, cutting them away to save him pain. Then Molly began to carefully remove the earlier bandages and clean up each as best she could. His left arm was resplinted. Four gashes were sewn up with silk thread, fresh from being immersed in the kettle of boiling water. These were then covered in honey and bandaged to protect them.

Then she settled down talking to Martin gently and holding his right hand smoothing the back of his hand with her thumb. She gave him a kiss on the lips, sympathising with him about his pain but for the moment until Dr. Strivens had seen him it was best not to give him anything for the pain. He wasn't going to become laudanum dependent if she could help it. She'd seen what could happen in the docks to some patients who developed a dependency on it. She wondered if the still room might have some old fashioned theriac available? Then the enormity of telling Mr. Davis what to do hit her. “I'm sorry Mr. Davis for ordering you about I just wanted the best for him.” “It's all right lass, so do I. Just as long as it's only in the bedroom here for I have my dignity to uphold downstairs.” “Yes Mr. Davis.”

“So how is he doing?” The housekeeper looked at her mistress. “She's got the sewing maids making up three simple dresses out of cotton, she's demanding that her clothes and Mr. Davis's are washed so they have fresh each day if you please. She's spread a clean sheet over the floor I've never seen anything like it but in answer to your question Mr. Davis says he's breathing just a little easier and he's swallowed a spot of beef broth which I say is a good sign.”

Dr. Strivens eventually arrived. He washed his hands and face then pulled out a clean shirt. Molly tied a clean apron around him before he entered the bed chambre and inspected his patient. “Well my lad nothing wrong that six months in bed won't cure.” Martin stared at him, “Surely not?” “That's my advice, its six months in bed waiting for your bones to heal and you'll walk again or you'll be on crutches and in a bath chair for the rest of your life.” Molly took his hand and held it. “Six months isn't forever you know.” “Damn doctors don't know everything.” “True enough but this one has seen what happens to those with broken femurs who didn't follow his advice.” “You'll have me to keep you company.” Martin grimaced.

Martin's parents were waiting in the drawing room. “Well?” “It's too soon to say definitely but his chances are good.” “Should we bring in a specialist from London?” “To be honest there are two problems, the first is fever but with Molly there I think the risk is small. She'll keep the wounds clean. Keep everyone out certainly for the first fortnight, a month if you can, after that the risk is much lower. The second risk is if he moves around so the bones don't heal properly. He's young and active so keeping him in bed won't be easy but if he doesn't keep still then he may end up with one leg shorter than the other or a permanent limp. A specialist might suggest the use of traction or suspending the limb with weights but I don't think it would help. Besides I'm the specialist, with a lot more experience of broken bones in the war than many other doctors.”

“Is keeping the wounds clean essential?” “We don't know but Molly's experience and mine is the cleaner the bedroom the less likely fever is to set in. If it was my son I'd have Molly nurse him. You owe your son's life to her quick actions but beware six months living together may mean they become attached so you may wish to send her away before the end. In point of fact if you could defuse her a bit, say find an attractive girl to assist her perhaps someone your son could teach to read and write?” Lady Burnley looked thoughtful. “Bleeding?” “It seems to make the patient calmer but more eventually die so I won't recommend it. Beside if he has lost a lot of blood does it make sense to take more from him. I don't think so. Now I'll be on my way. Molly knows enough to send for me if need be but I think its just waiting now.”

“Mcfadden do we have any pretty girls on the estate who are quick to learn?” “Ones that can read and write?” “Ones who can't first but if there aren't any then we can look at those who can.” “Dare I ask why?” “Martin is confined to his bed for six months so someone to entertain him perhaps be taught to read and write. Anyway find me someone and send them to the housekeeper.”

“Morning Matthew.” “Morning Tom. I haven't seen you for a day or two. You'll be wanting Anne to help nurse the heir no doubt.” “Well I wouldn't say no. Reight gradely weather we're having.” “Aye just the weather to watch some lambs frolicking round their ewes. Those new ones of yours look reight grand.” “I might find you one or two, then you can see for thyself.” “Aye that'll be grand.”

“Anne you might want to go and see what Tom and your father are about. I think you've just been sold for a flock of sheep.” Anne entered the kitchen “Now what are you two up to and looking so guilty about?” “Nowt lass, Tom was just saying he'd spare me one or two lambs out of the goodness of his heart.” “And there was me expecting him to come and ask for some help nursing the heir. I don't suppose that came up in talk?” “Well there was a mention of it lass.” “What's in it for me? Besides being neighbourly?” “Well there was talk of teaching you to read and write.” Anne's eyes opened wide at that. “Who'd be teaching me?” “Martin?” She sat down on the stool looking thoughtful. “If he's got fever then he'll be in no condition to teach me so it's not fever. A broken arm no it’s not that. He's to be kept quiet for months for that's how long it will take but it's not fever. He's broken his leg high up hasn't he? That's all that would fit and I'm to keep him occupied whilst he recovers.” The look on Tom's face told her all she needed to know. “So he'll be left crippled unless Molly pulls off a miracle and she can't handle it all by herself.” She looked at Tom, “You've been instructed to fetch me. I can practically name my own price.” “Within reason lass within reason.” “Right then three score ewes with lambs for me dad and once I can read and write a job as assistant steward for me at thirty pounds a year.” “That's man's work. They'll never agree to that.” “They don't have to, Tom can do it and let's face it he's said many a time how he hates keeping the records up and with all this new stuff they need it to see what works. Take it or leave it. I'm off to collect the eggs.” She got up and prepared to walk out of the kitchen. Had she gone too far? She didn't know how desperate they were. “Right lass hop up pillion behind me and we'll be off. Matthew you'll bring your dogs up in the morning and we'll sort out your new flock.” “I'll just get my things.” “Nay lass come just as thou art.” He looked at her “Take it or leave it.” Anne hurried out the door before he changed his mind.

At the big house Lady Burnley's dresser inspected her. “You're a size with Lady Elisabeth and she's left a few gowns here. Right bath first in the kitchen then we'll sort you out.” Later wrapped in a towel she was taken upstairs to a room that was used by visiting superior servants and introduced to Ida. “She'll look after your clothes and Molly's as well.” She turned to Ida. “Go through Lady Elizabeth's gowns and see what will look best on her. You'd better be thinking of dresses for Molly as well.” Ida curtseyed “Yes Miss Hughes.” Anne stared at her. “I feel like a sacrificial lamb.” “Oh it's not that bad. At least you'll get a few nice dresses out of it. It has been suggested that a pretty face in a pretty gown might stand more chance of distracting the heir than letting him lie there feeling sorry for himself all day.” “Well as long as the pretty gown stays on whilst I'm in there with him that's fine.” “He's not too bad. Takes a kiss here and there or should I say takes what's offered to him. Lydia's quite put out she wasn't chosen but she'll get over it and let's face it I get to practise being a lady's maid, it's better than beating the carpets. Now what do you think of this one? If I hold them up to you by the window we can get a better idea of which colours suit you.” A choice of clothes? Anne had her Sunday best and an everyday dress both had been hand me downs. It might turn out to be quite fun.

After lunch she was directed to the steward's office. “Now then Molly and Mr. Davis will be nursing Martin for the first two weeks. No one else is allowed in the bedroom. So we'll start by teaching you your numbers. I know you know them verbally and you've probably seen them written in the shops but we'll start with the slate and you can copy them out for me. Then later we'll get you to do sums on the slate. Yes I know you can do sums in your head with the ledgers we need to be able to double check the sums so it all gets written down and let's face it, it will be easier for me to just check your adding up than do it myself.” Anne put her tongue out at him.

Lord Burnley was visiting one of his neighbours with a view to selling him a mare for his daughter's use. They stood about in the stables as the head groom formally inspected the filly. “Right enough Sir.” Audra was sent for. “She's perfect, but I'll need a new habit to go with her colouring.” Audra had grown up since last Lord Burnley had seen her and she was her parents only child. Normally she'd be considered below a match for his son but their lands adjoined and she was a considerable heiress. He was thoughtful and when Sir Wharton suggested that they adjourn to his study he nodded.

That evening over dinner Sir Wharton asked his daughter if she'd verified the household accounts that morning as she'd been asked to. “With the arrival of Belle this morning I got distracted. I'll do them tomorrow morning.” “Not good enough, you're banished from the house for three months.” His wife looked up in surprise. “Not sent to great-Aunt Rachael?” “No Lord Burnley has need of assistance in the sick room. You'll go there and assist.” His wife frowned for a moment then her face lightened. Audra grimaced. “But I might catch something.” “I doubt you'll catch a broken leg.” “Martin?” Audra blushed as she said the name. “Martin. Two months of being stuck in a bedroom with Martin then a month of helping him learn to walk again.” “In his bedroom?” “You'll take your maid with you.” “I've nothing to wear?” “That should compromise him quickly.” Audra put her tongue out. “Whose idea was it?” Asked his wife. “Lord Burnley. I suspect normally Audra wouldn't normally be considered but Martin shows signs of growing too fond of one of the maids.” His wife drew a deep breath. “It'll be practise in flirting before her season and if she pulls it off as Martin's wife many more doors will be open to her in London.” Audra looked from one to the other. “Take your maid as chaperone and take Forbes with you as well.” “But mama how will you mange without your dresser?” “For three months Anne can do for me. Forbes has been training her, and if you come home with a ring on your finger it will be worthwhile.”

“The Master wants to see you in his study.” Molly gingerly knocked on the door. “Come in Molly, come up and close the door. Now take a seat.” Molly sat perched on the edge of the armchair. “I want you to know that we're very grateful for saving the heir's life but I suspect you've grown too fond of him so I'm going to suggest you go down to London and I'll arrange for my man of business to sort something out for you. To be honest I'd like you as a daughter-in-law but I know my son and all he would offer would be a rented house in Chelsea. You're too good for the likes of him much as I love him. Mind you if you'd like a leased house in Chelsea?” He raised his eyebrow questioningly. Molly shook her head a little concerned by the way the conversation was going. “No I thought not. Henry the senior footman will escort you to my man of business in London and hand him this letter. It contains instructions on how you are to be rewarded and by having it from Henry's hand that will ensure he knows it comes directly from me. I've asked one of the maids to pack your things and they are in the carriage waiting for you.” He rang the bell. “Send Henry in to me if you will.” Henry arrived and was given a purse. “See she arrives safely Henry and this letter is to be placed in the hands of Mr. Millar and no other. It is not to be let out of your sight. The carriage is waiting for the pair of you so I trust you have a good journey. Oh and Henry make sure Molly has a comfortable journey.” “Milord” Henry led Molly out to the waiting carriage where Ida was waiting and they were on their way.

As they left they passed Sir Wharton's coach entering the drive. Audra stepped down and glanced up at her new home for at least the next three months. The butler conducted her up to Martin's bed chambre. “If you should need anything at all just ask. Davis, this is Miss Audra Wharton she'll be taking charge of the sick room, Lord Burnley's orders.” He turned and made his stately way down the hall. Martin looked up from his bed. Audra in charge nonsense there must be some mistake. She approached the bed. “You look healthy to me?” “It's my leg that's broken not me.” Audra looked taken back, “Your lower limb and they didn't amputate it. Never mind there is still time.” Martin glowered. “Davis get her out of here.” “Lord Burnley pays my wages.” “Traitor!” “He doesn't look a very good patient.” “Oh he'll be good enough if you decide not to feed him for three days.” Murmured her maid saucily. “What!” “Well she is in charge of the sick room and if she feels you should have a lighter diet none of us will go against her wishes.” Audra took pity on him “I could try a kiss better.” Martin sat up a little straighter as she approached but then kissed him lightly on the forehead before slipping away and smiling at him from the other side of the room. “My it’s going to be fun for the next two months. Now what did you call me three years ago the last time you saw me?” She laughed and with a twinkle in her eye left him whilst she was escorted to her room leaving behind Martin who was remembering just how much she had changed.

“Oh Molly I never dreamt in my wildest dreams I'd ever see the sights of London. Is it true you can buy anything there?” “If you've money to spend you can buy just about anything there and if you know where to go it’s cheaper than the country for many things.” “Now you two since my instructions are to see Molly has a comfortable journey when we get to an inn Ida you'll address Molly as Miss Birch, same as I will, if you please.” Ida looked thoughtful, “Well she's dressed the part so we might as well play up to it. Reckon you can take off one of the gentry Miss Birch?” “Pray what does one mean? As if one would take anything off in public. Oh and Henry make sure we dine in a private room.” The two girls fell into a fit of the giggles. Molly was aghast that she'd called Henry Henry. “I can see you have it exactly right young Molly and yes you should address me as Henry.”

They stopped for the night at the White Horse. Henry bespoke a private dining room and two rooms for the night as Miss Birch hovered in the background. The landlord nodded and stepped back into the kitchen. “Well the coach has Lord Burnley's crest on it but I doubt if Miss Birch is quality.” “So what.” returned his wife, “Think man, the footman and coachman are Lord Burnley's. Treat them right and it will be the White Horse they stop at, more to the point they'll talk and word will get round. Best tell the coachman the roof above the stables needs fixing so he'll be better off in one of the rooms upstairs. It's the opportunity of a lifetime. I'll speak to Sam about borrowing the Reverend's team.” The landlord looked upon his wife in amazement. “You'll never...” “Never you mind what Sam and I talk about you see to the running of the bar.”

“Well yes Missus he only keeps them for show. If the team in the stables are as good as you say they are I'll take them up to the paddock and turn them loose and bring his team down to the stables. The Reverend won't know the difference.” Sam and the landlord's wife came to an agreement on how many pints of beer it would be worth. Next she spoke to Henry “I'm short staffed tonight could you carry in the food to Miss Birch's private room yourself?” Henry nodded his agreement then wandered off to see how Tom coachman was faring. “Well they're putting me in a guest room which is an improvement over the stables. The groom says they're sorting out a suitable team for us to use in the morning.” “Nip into the first door on the left from the back door it's a private dining room so we can all eat together tonight.” “Right you are then I'll be along in a minute or two.”

On the sideboard was a stack of plates Henry carried the tray of steaming food in and then carved the meat. “Henry I'll never manage that whole bottle of wine all to myself.” “Never you mind missus we'll help you out and with the food as well.” “Is anyone going to say Grace?” asked Ida, “What and let the food go cold.” asked Tom coachman and he reached across for a dish of carrots. Ida looked at him but Molly had picked up her knife and fork. “I'm starving after all that travelling.” “Young ladies are never starving.” remonstrated Henry. “Good job it's just us then. It's not bad grub is it?” chimed in Tom.

“It's not a bad drop of wine.” Pronounced Henry. “Well Mr. Bartlett you'd know after finishing up his Lordship's half empty bottles.” Chimed in Ida feeling slightly merry after a glass and a half of wine. “It's a difficult life being first footman but someone has to do it.” Remarked Henry. “Like the time when he brought some Chablis and found it too dry for his taste.” “That one came all the way down to the maids. It went nicely with a bit of trout though.” Remarked Molly.

It was evening when the merry party arrived. “Travelling in style tonight aren't you Henry?” “Not half we ain't. Now I have a letter for you concerning Miss Birch.” “You mean Molly, don't you even if she is dressed up to the nines.” “Have a read before you say anything.” Mr. Millar read through the letter. “Know what's in it then?” “Come off it. Placed it in my hands himself and said give it to you and no other.” “Well the family isn't here so it's a guest room for young Molly.” He turned to Molly “I see you saved the heir's life. We heard rumours of course. You're to be given one of the smaller estates as a reward.” Molly looked at him. “What me stuck in the country? I'd rather have a warehouse. Mr. Thorton's would do me nicely.” “You never know he might be happy to exchange one for the other.” “Well with the embargo hitting trade and the new docks just opened he might well be happy for a quiet life in the country. How old is he?” Molly thought about it “He must be fifty at least.” “Give me the address and I'll see what I can do. Now my instructions are to see you are entertained whilst here so I suggest you use the family's box at the theatre this evening.” “A box does that mean there's room for all of us?” Asked Ida. “Well she'll need a footman and maid with her certainly and I'd better come along to make sure you end up at the right place.”

Two days later Mr. Millar spoke to Molly in the drawing room. “If you're certain you want to do this I think if we invite Mr. Thorton to dinner tonight with all the trimmings and soften him up with French wine and cooking and so forth we could do a swap. Want to try?” Molly nodded. “This Mr. Thorton does he have a wife?” Asked Ida direct as always. “As far as I know he has no family at all.” “The poor man.” Murmured Ida with a self-satisfied smile.

The town carriage was dispatched with great formality together with two footmen on perches at the rear. He was greeted by the butler and led into the library where Mr. Millar offered him a glass of his Lordship's best sherry wine. “I'm Millar, his lordship's London steward. Would you care for a glass of sherry?” “Not a bad bit of stuff. Still I'm surprised at being invited here this evening. I take it his Lordship isn't in residence.” “Unfortunately the heir's health just at the moment means he is stuck in the country but I have full authority to act on his behalf.” “You'd best roll out the French cuisine then to try to soften me up but I'll give you fair warning I'm a hard man.” He barely heard Ida's whispered comment of “Promises, promises.”

He was wined and dined Molly gave him lots of attention asking him about his business and how would he like to have a country estate. Ida seemed to find lots of reasons to brush by him as she refilled his glass or proffered him yet another dish. Finally when the meal was over Mr. Millar offered him two documents, one that transferred the estate to himself and the other his business to Molly. “I don't know that I should, this estate how much does it bring in?” “Six thousand or so a year but with these new methods you should be able to increase it.” “The business brings in a dam sight more than that.” “But not last year I'll warrant with the blockade. Didn't help business did it?” “The war will soon be over.” “It's been going on now for what fifteen years?” Mr. Thorton sighed and signed the two documents.

“You look tired sir, and since it's raining hard I'm sure we can find you a bed chamber upstairs with warm sheets. We can sort out a carriage tomorrow so you can inspect your new estate.” She guided him towards the stairs.

“I'm surprised Ida is taking such care of him.” “I'm not, I think she looks upon him as a walking purse that needs a bit of help spending his money.” Molly looked up “Surely not. He's old enough to be her father.”

Ida came dashing into the room with her dress awry. “It's Mr. Thorton, he's had some sort of attack.” Henry spoke to Mr. Millar. “I wouldn't like to take the responsibility of calling in someone other than his own physician.” “But we aren't sure who that might be.” “There is the Burnley's family physician but it's late at night. I wouldn't want to disturb him.” There was a leisurely consultation with the other members of staff and in the end a junior footman was sent to fetch a young apothecary who had recently set up practice on finishing his apprenticeship. By the time the footman had lost his way and the apothecary had gathered his things together more than three hours had passed. The apothecary examined his patient, “If only I could have reached him sooner, I've been reading about some new techniques to use when people have an attack. Was he attempting some strenuous exercise or some such?” Ida turned bright red, “Well I wouldn't describe it as strenuous.” The apothecary nodded understandingly. “Well the death should be entered in his parish registry.”

“Do you have the document transferring the estate to Mr. Thornton?” Mr. Millar passed it to him. Henry inspected it then dropped it in the fire. “Accidents do happen.” Remarked Mr. Millar, “I suppose that means young Molly now owns both the estate and the business.” “I suppose she does.” Molly when she heard of what had happened looked thoughtful. Then offered Ida a job as her dresser at London dresser wages.

She stepped up to the front door and plied the knocker. “Why Molly why didn't you come in through the kitchen door as usual?” “Well I own a country estate now besides the warehouse and you did say you'd marry the first heiress who came knocking at the door. Will I do?”