The Tea Room 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.

This one is set a year or two before the Regency period proper.

Anne looked over the tea room, she was in charge for once, all the decisions for the day were hers. It sounded grander than it was, Mrs Henshaw who owned the tea room had taken the day off to visit her sister. Monday would be quiet, old Mrs. Murphy would be in no doubt for her tea and cake about lunch time, perhaps Miss Bell, the Freeman's governess, on her half day but otherwise she expected it to be very quiet. Still it was a day's pay after all, Wednesday market day, Friday, Saturday and when Mrs. Murphy fancied a day off. It could be worse but with the poor harvest and not so much cash around she thought she might lose Friday. She wondered what the future held, trying to raise a family on twenty pounds a year if she was married to a farm labourer. With the recent rise in prices with the war it wouldn't go far but what other choices did she have?

She glanced out the window as she dusted the tables to see the bank manager in full splendour shake a man's hand as he left, moneyed then. She straightened the knives and forks once more and turned as the bell on the door tinkled genteelly. She pulled out a chair invitingly for him, “Tea and cakes or I could make you a cheese omelette for lunch?” “That sounds perfect, with perhaps a cake afterwards?” She scurried back to the kitchen as he glanced out the window, she'd been going to make herself a cheese omelette for her lunch but he looked nice. She served him then noticed Susan and her mother in their Sunday best enter. Soon the other seven tables were packed with eligible young ladies in their Sunday best together with their mamas or other chaperons, making flirtatious glances at her young man in the window.

Mrs. Murphy arrived and glanced round nervously, Anne guided her across to the young man's table “We're a bit crowded today would you mind sharing your table?” He smiled at her, “Not at all.” “I'm Mrs. Murphy. I generally pop in for a tea and a slice of cake about now. It's nice to be waited on for a change.” “Albert Shufflebottom.” “Are you visiting the neighbourhood?” “No just brought the Hamilton estate from the bank.” The eligible young ladies sat up straighter. Miss Bell entered hesitantly. Anne cocked an eye over to Albert and at his slight nod guided her over to his table. “We're very crowded today so I hope you don't mind sharing.” She scurried round with another plate of cakes. She'd need to slip out the back and see what the baker had to hand. It might have to be slices of bread and butter with a pot of jam if the worse came to the worst.

“Harry what can you spare me? I've a Mr. Shufflebottom who has just brought the Hamilton estate.” “Shufflebottom, sounds like he's from up north and the manufacturies. If so he could have serious money. I suppose I could spare you say four chocolate eclairs? I made some this morning for Mrs. Lambert's tea party but I made half a dozen extra seeing as it's the wife's birthday. I daresay we could make do with one each.” Anne stepped up to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Harry, you're a pet.” Harry thought he really must stop being so soft where young Anne was concerned.

Anne carefully placed one eclair on a plate in the kitchen. Be nice to see how the other half lived for a change. Then she covered the other three with a cover and carried them to his table. “Your sweet course sir.” Albert looked at the three eclairs then glanced at the two salivating ladies seated at his table. “I'm not certain I could manage all three maybe you ladies would care to join me?” Well he didn't have to ask twice. Anne slipped away to the kitchen mentioning to more than one table “Yes they did look nice but unfortunately those were the very last ones.” They were also the very first ones ever served in Mrs. Henshaw's tea rooms.

“Now then sir you'll be wanting your tea later on? I could do you a couple of lamb chops with peas.” Albert nodded, “You know I'm feeling overwhelmed by this morning is there somewhere I could take a stroll to?” “Mrs. Murphy could show you the ducks on the canal I suppose. I've a bag of bread to feed them with, in the kitchen.” “I couldn't possibly go for a stroll unchaperoned. Perhaps Miss Mills you'd be kind enough to act as my chaperon?”

Mrs. Murphy took his arm through the village and then sat down on a bench by the canal to bask in the sun. “You youngsters go and feed the ducks, see if you can tempt the moorhen out.” Albert looked at Miss Mills. “Well I dare say my reputation would be shredded if I'd come alone with you, even with Mrs. Murphy as chaperon but by acting as chaperon to you two I think we'll get away with it. Besides Mrs. Murphy has repaid a few slights this morning walking the length of the village on your arm.” She spent the afternoon filling in Albert about the local inhabitants and their idiosyncrasies. Quite the most satisfactory half day she'd ever had still from the glance at the clock on the church steeple the time had flown and everything must come to an end even perfect afternoons. She wondered what her mistress would say. Still, she was officially playing chaperon to Mrs. Murphy. Time to wake her up.

Anne served him his tea at the appointed time. “So have you hired any staff yet?” “Aren't there any at the house?” “The bank fired them all. I could come up after work if you like?” Was she being too forward. She asked herself? “But what about your job here?” “Part time and I think my hours are likely to get cut back. I'll have to speak to Mrs. Henshaw but I think she'll be relieved more than anything else. The harvest was poor and although we had a good day today generally it will be quiet until the next harvest and hopefully that will be better.” “Sounds like you'd better come up then.”

As he walked home he called at the inn and arranged that any mail that arrived would be brought out to the house on the same or next day together with a copy of the Morning Chronicle rather than waiting for him to collect it. “Will you be wanting the old copies?” The innkeeper asked. “I know at three pence tax per copy it's expensive. Who'd be after it?” “The curate has been known to read it out to the lads in the bar when he comes by a copy. There are a group of tradesmen who club together as well.” “So tradesmen first then they'll pass it on to the curate and thence to Mrs. Murphy?” “As you say sir.” “And you'll send a lad up with it each day as soon as it comes in and take the old copy away?” “As you say sir, as you say.” “Your expense then will be the lad and you can make your own arrangements with the others.” Albert smiled as he left. He hoped Mrs. Murphy could read but he was quite sure one of the ladies in the village would be able to.

“It's a bit big for just you?” “I was looking for something smaller but it was in my price range so I brought it. The bank foreclosed when the mortgage payment wasn't made, they sold off what they could and I paid the outstanding balance plus fifty pounds to the owner.” “Just the house?” “I think they threw in the rest of the estate as well as a sweetener, although what I'll do with it all is beyond me.”

“I hope you're very fond of cheese omelette and lamb chops?” “Why?” “Those are my two dishes.” “You mean I need to hire a cook?” “Gwen likes cooking.” “Get her to come and see me in the morning but I can survive on omelette and lamb chops for a day or two.” He strolled out to the gardens, the grass was a bit long but good enough to lie back on and bask in the sun. He liked it here. It felt comfortable. His persistent cough had disappeared. He could just relax and unwind. It had taken him two years to sort out his Great Aunt's affairs when she'd died. His great-uncle had brought up surplus military equipment in eighty-five then with the recent war sold it at premium prices for instant delivery. She had three ships on the Africa, West Indies, and back with sugar run. Very profitable but public opinion was changing slowly against slavery so he'd sold two off as they returned to port. The third he sent to Canada loaded with goods to trade for grain. He noted that the British army and Navy had both brought slaves to replace men lost to yellow fever. The new owner of the ships was going to continue the trade but under a Portugese flag and officers. The last ship had done very well. Sent out with a privateer commission she'd managed to capture a merchant man so as ship owner he'd gotten a share of the profits. He'd thought about moving to the West Indies, as long as your mother was a slave so were you and he'd heard tales of some quite light coloured female slaves being available but so was yellow fever. No he'd stay closer to home to look after his investments if need be. The demand for rags for paper was high. The mill at Manchester could take all the rags he could supply. He didn't ask too many questions about blood-covered army uniforms that came through his company on the Liverpool docks and neither did the paper mills. He suspected they came from the scavengers on the battlefields. Still, it was all shillings in the till. Even the invasion scares had helped. Consoles had tumbled to a point that they were worth buying. When the invasion scare turned out to be nothing but rumour and the Consoles had returned to their normal value he'd made, well a bob or two was putting it lightly. The Liverpool pottery he'd kept on, that was doing well now they were printing decorations instead of hand painting them. Too much sorting things out, formal dinners with the local businessmen, and cutting deals he'd had enough. He'd left a solid manger for the remaining parts of the business and invested most of the profits from the sale as a silent partner for a mill, the rest he'd put in canal shares and the income from them was doing very nicely thank you. His ambition was just wanted to be comfortably off, the rest he wasn't too worried about.

Morning came and Anne looked out the window when she heard the horse in the drive. “Looks like you have a visitor. Baron Buckley, he has two unmarried daughters.” “I'd best answer the door then.” Albert rose from the stool in the kitchen and walked to the front door. “Good Morning.” He greeted his visitor. “Baron Buckley, thought I'd just stop by and see how you're settling in.” Albert led the way through to the kitchen past the bare reception rooms and indicated a stool at the kitchen table. “Not a lot of furniture then?” “The bank sold it all off lock stock and barrel. Still it meant I got a reasonable price on the rest, the balance of the mortgage plus fifty to the previous owner.” “Not even an armchair to read the paper in?” “Not even.” “The wife had my old comfortable pair moved to the attics. I'll have them sent over. A man needs an armchair.” Anne looked up and lifted down two old dusty bottles. “Perhaps you'd accept these in payment? We found them in the butler's pantry hidden in a corner.” Baron Buckley eyes gleamed as he read the label. “They'll do nicely.”

“Now the wife insisted I invite you for dinner one evening this week.” Anne placed a bacon sandwich in front of him and one for Albert as well. “Alas I haven't any suitable clothing and you can see from the state of the house it'll be a year or two before I could invite you back.” “It's good this. Ever since the wife engaged a French cook I've been unable to get a decent English food.” Albert laughed “Bacon sandwiches and omelettes are all we have until I can find a cook. The only staff I have is Anne here.” “You mean you have no staff at all?” “Apart from Anne that's correct.” Baron Buckley shook his head, he thought it would be a long shot, no money and that gained in trade if he had his guess, certainly not knowledgeable about wine. There were two very valuable bottles of claret he'd just been given in exchange for his old armchairs and to top it all neither of his daughters would care to be called Shufflebottom. “Best be on my way, people to see, things to do.” As he rode off, he had a fit of conscience, he thought he'd ask his valet to arrange for a couple of rugs from the attics to find their way over with the armchairs. When he'd left Albert turned to Anne enquiringly. “It was better to let him have two bottles of claret and think you were in ignorance of what they were than have him think you were a suitable suitor for either of his daughters.”

“So have you talked to him about farming it all?” “No.” “Well you should. It's my cousins without work in their cottage, they've a few veg in the garden but they need bread, meat and fuel to get through the winter.” Anne thought for a moment, then dug out the ledgers. “Let's go and talk to him, together.”

Albert looked up and saw them standing there with the ledgers. “Why do I feel I'm not going to enjoy this?” Gwen stepped behind him and gently massaged his neck and shoulders. “We thought you might like to see how much money the estate brought in in a normal year. This year the harvest was very poor which is probably why the owner couldn't make the mortgage payment but normally the rents bring in thousands of pounds every year.” “Best find me some tenants then. I fancy a glass of ale.” Gwen moved to his front and bending down she kissed him before knelling in front of him. “The old tenants moved out when the rents were doubled. We thought you might like to farm it yourself and pay the workers directly.” “You mean you have family who are without work at the moment and prices are high this year?” Gwen blushed “Well there is that.”

“Give me one good reason why I should.” Gwen undid his flies and took his rod in her hand. “It's worth a kiss here.” She dipped her head and kissed the tip very lightly. “Two?” He looked towards Anne who blushed before kneeling down before him and kissing him lightly on the side of his rod. “I know nothing about farming.” Anne thought more drastic action was required tentatively she lowered her lips and ran her tongue over the tip. She heard an intake of breath. “Still Anne here seems to be a quick learner. Sort out what needs to be done and let me know what's what.” As he relaxed after his ejaculation he murmured “Get the workers and family in, feed them, then ask them what needs doing. They'll know as much as the farmers ever did. Feed them beef something and get in extra help for the cooking, I'll pay a florin a day each for the help.” “Feed all them from an open fire in the kitchen. You're expecting miracles aren't you and I bet there's five thousand of them.” “Roast an ox then if the kitchen isn't up to it.” Later that night he pulled out pen and paper and wrote a letter. He walked up to the inn and drank a half pint of ale, passing his letter with a coin to the guard when the mail coach came through stopping only long enough to change the team.

Afterwards the girls were talking in bed. “I think he wants us to do the farming bit.” “I don't know how to farm.” “It can't be that hard can it?” “I'll tell you what was hard.” “I don't know how you could.” “I've got family living on the estate as well you know.”

Just organising tables for the workers and their families meant a lot of effort. A couple of the farm workers knew basic carpentry and the tables ended up being planks laid on trestle frames. The benches were quickly thrown together. “Bring your own plates, knives and forks.” They set everything up in the ground floor rooms. Albert gave them a few words of welcome then bid them eat. There was water provided in jugs that had been boiled previously but no ale. Albert wanted them sober.

“Anne tells me if we lease the farms to tenants we can expect an income of thousands of pounds. We don't have any tenants so her idea was we would farm the land directly. I don't know the first thing about farming but I'm willing to split the profits 50/50. If we don't then many of you will go cold and hungry this winter no doubt. You'll need to explain to Anne what we need to do. I've a certain amount of cash to pay an allowance before harvest but I'm not made of money. We'll take off the money you've drawn against the profit from the harvest.” “What do we know about farming?” “Well if there is a stockman amongst you, he'll know how many cattle the various farms will support over winter. Anyway I'll leave you to sort it all out with Anne.” He made a slight duck of his head then retreated to his armchair and a glass of ale.

The workers looked at each other. Gwen thought it was time to speak. “You may not know all the parts but each of you will know some of them. Now do we have any stockmen?” A hand or two were raised. “If you give me the name of the field and farm then the number of cattle that have been kept over winter for a start?” Slowly information was teased out. At the end Anne had lots of notes but when everyone had finished speaking she was approached by one or two who hadn't liked to speak out in public. “Hillside farm has two fields of turnips. He was going to run more cattle over winter before he left.” “They've a new type of plough over Hycroft way. Light weight cast iron. They say it only needs two horses in the team rather than three.” Ploughs and other implements they hadn't thought about. “Hath thou thought about the Haggs?” “You mean do we have a hagger?” “Not so much that as we need the coppice fer baskets, wattle fencing and the like.” Anne made a note to see about the copse and which part was ready to be harvested this year.

It took two days for Anne to do all the sums. “It'll cost hundreds of pounds to do all this and that's without any repairs.” “Well he can always go to the bank and get another mortgage.” Anne looked dubious. “Mother said neither a borrower or a lender be.” “Mother never had to get through a winter without work.” Anne shrugged “Best dresses and smiles then.” “Agreed.”

“How much?” Anne paused “We thought we might have to soften you up first before we told you.” “Just show me.” Anne handed him the sheet of paper with all the notes on. “You haven't got any mangel wurzels planned or swedes. You need swedes to carry you over after Christmas when the turnips finish.” “You mean to say you know about farming and I needn't have done all my hard work?” “No I just remembered an article in the paper about turnips being good until Christmas but not so good afterwards hence swedes. Mangel wurzels, I just like the sound of them. Besides I understand there is still time to sow a few before winter.” Anne added them to her list. “And the money?” “Go ahead. Work out how much flour we need for the estate, substitute potatoes for some of it and allow for say another dozen families.” “Who will they be?” “You know the locals better than I but there'll be some skilled men with no work around so we'll squeeze them and their families in somewhere and next year we'll have a skilled workforce.” “And the flour?” “Buy it now for the year until the next harvest. It's expensive at the moment but the contractors will be buying it up for biscuits for the military so it'll get worse. Oh and when you're got all that lot organised and paid for you can come back and soften me up as you put it.” Anne shook her head and together with Gwen went off together to do more sums. “Are you sure we'll make money when the next harvest comes in?” Anne shook her head. “At the rate we're going we'll need two very good harvests next year.” “More to the point who can we count as skilled workmen? Joe plays the fiddle well.”

“I could do with some shirts, either of you any good with a needle?”. “Irene would be better.” “I almost hate to ask but who is Irene?” “She's a sewing maid who made up most of Millicent's dresses before her season. However Millicent has married her Baron now so what with the poor harvest and the cost of Millicent's season she'll be looking for work shortly.” “Can you get word to her?” “Well my sister's husband's cousin is walking out with one of the other maid's brother so yes it will be as you wish oh lord and master.”

Albert tapped her lightly on the derriere as she slipped away with a big grin on her face.

Irene rode up on her next half day and Anne stepped out to greet her. “Like her? She's Millicent's cast off and I'm saving the grooms work exercising her. Now that Millicent is a grand lady, Mischief is too lowly a mount for her. Want to try your hand at riding? Mischief is named for sneaking apples from the bucket. She's really quite tame, especially if you feed her a carrot or a slice of apple first.” Gwen stepped out from the kitchen to see Anne perched on Mischief's back slowly walking around the courtyard. Irene passed Gwen a parcel as she stepped into the kitchen. “Can you tuck that away for me? It's a bit of material that was left over from Millicent's trousseau.”

“I'm just about to take Mr. Shufflebottom his morning coffee so you'd best come with me.” She led the way into the library where Albert was stretched out reading in one of the only pair of chairs that could be thought even remotely comfortable in the house. “Irene is here.” He looked up questioningly. “I make up dresses and had heard you were in need of some, something in pink perhaps with a few ruffles around the hem?” “I was thinking more of a shirt or two.” “Pity I understand some gentlemen pay well for feminine clothes to wear.” “Fifteen pounds a year same as the rest.” “Or you could sit in his lap and kiss him.” “Rather than get paid at all?” Albert grinned at her smile. “No the other two talked me into paying them an extra ten pounds a year for the privilege of kissing and fondling them.” “Well I'd better see if I like your kisses then hadn't I?” She plonked herself down in his lap and kissed him lightly at first guiding his hand to her breast at the same time. The kissed deepened until she came up for air flustered. “So did I pass?” Albert asked. “I might need another to confirm my impressions.” She answered pertly.

“But that's as far as it goes?” “Well we have been known to be a little bit nicer to him when we wanted something special from him.” “You mean if I wanted a favour?” Albert looked at her, “You have your twenty-five a year what more do you want?” “I heard that you don't run a stable yet.” “You expect a horse at your disposal?” This was said in tone of disbelief. “Millicent no longer needs her mare. Anne is practising riding it at the moment. I thought you might need a head groom. The asking price for the mare is fifty guineas by the way but I suspect with the poor harvest they'll take fifteen. There are a couple more for sale as well, old hunters.”.

“How's your French?” Irene looked at him blankly. “We'll go upstairs and discuss this head groom you want me to hire.” Irene hesitated. “He has promised not to put us in the pudding club.” Well she wanted a place for Martin and at least they'd be together. She nodded and followed Albert upstairs to his bedroom.

He sat on the edge of the bed and guided her down onto his lap then kissed her once. “Une”. He kissed her again “Deux. That's two numbers to remember. Soixante neuf are another pair. Let me demonstrate.” He undid her clothing and gently removed it as he did for his own clothing then he laid her on the bed and laid besides her top to tail. “Me and my sister sleep two in a bed like this.” Irene burbled nervously. He caressed her thighs and slowly kissed his way to her private parts. Soon he was licking them. He lifted his hand and moved his stiffness towards her mouth where she took it nervously between her lips. She felt a feeling of pleasure from the attention, and as to the unspeakable sensations that made her feel as if she was melting inside, well it made it very hard to concentrate as she should on giving him pleasure. Eventually she gave up the unequal battle and felt a feeling of disappointment when he lifted himself away from her and moved down the bed. “La Petite Mort.” He whispered and lowered his head and lapped her most private parts with his tongue until she didn't know if she was coming or going. She recognised La Petite Mort when it arrived and felt herself just flop afterwards. Albert gathered her up in his arms and held her. Stroking her gently and nibbling her ear. Somehow she feared life would never be the same again.

“Would you like the blue room? It's next to mine in case you get lonely in the night.” Irene recovered enough to put her tongue out and bash him with a pillow.

“Are there a couple of ex-soldiers you're comfortable with? If so get them to come and see me tomorrow.” He asked Anne. She nodded. That afternoon two rather scruffily dressed ex-soldiers attended him in the presence of Anne. “I need a pair of footmen to attend Anne when she goes shopping.” “Livery?” “No but it pays a shilling a day extra. The concern is she'll be carrying a heavy purse and I suspect some won't want to deal with her as she's a woman.” “What am I supposed to be buying?” “You've the list somewhere. You'd best start with Millicent's mount and Irene's groom. See what you can get for thirty.” He handed over a heavy purse.

“Hi Martin, I heard you might have some horses for sale. I have money.” “I'll show you what he has. Stay there whilst I lead them out one by one.” As Martin brought them out, he asked her did she know anything about horses. Anne shook her head. Martin pointed out the good points and the bad points on each of three horses and finally led out a pony. Anne looked at him as if he was mad. “He's not a horse, he's a baby.” “No she is a mare but she's a pony. I brought her out because she's also on the list to be sold. How much do you have?” “Thirty.” “Pass me twenty-two and I'll go see what he says.” Martin disappeared into the house with a heavy purse. He came back shortly afterwards, “He's taken the money so all four are yours now, complete with saddles. I've been given my money until the end of the week so I'll came back with you and settle in. Irene mentioned there was a place for me.” Anne rode pillion on the back of the hunter that Martin rode. The two ex-soldiers rode along behind one leading the pony.

Anne handed over the remaining change. “Three horses and a pony for twenty-two complete with saddles. Martin is settling them in now.” Albert raised his eyebrows. “Three horses and a pony, well I suppose it will keep Martin out of trouble and they might come in useful sometime.”

On Sunday they walked to church. Albert was impressed with the sermon. It seemed to be just the right level judging by the way it held the villagers' attention. Not a hunting vicar then he noted as the members of the congregation were spoken to and questions asked after various people's welfare. Anne guided him quietly past as he was speaking to Miss Mills, “You can do without an interrogation and he's plenty of people to talk to.”

Albert glanced out the window to see Anne riding back to the stable. He got up and walked across to the door ready to intercept her when she came in. When she arrived slightly breathless from riding he slipped his arm around her waist and led her back to his armchair. Something about riding and exercise seemed to make her more responsive to his kisses and fondling. “I ought to go and get changed.” She murmured “Ah yes the mysterious skirt that isn't what it seems.” Anne thought there was nothing mysterious about it, Irene had made it so she could ride astride. He ran his hand up her thigh and parted her legs so he could run his finger over her intimate parts. “It's a very useful seam this, guiding my finger.” “Exactly where it shouldn't be you mean?” “Oh I don't know.” He kissed her again stroking her at the same time until he felt a slight tremble beneath his fingers. “You're getting too good at this.” She gasped then relaxed into his arms.

Helen stood there at the kitchen door. “Delivery for Gwen?” “That's me. Wot yer got?” “I was just making sure I had the right person first. You wouldn't have a wagon and team together with a couple of labourers have you? Else it will take me a week or more to get them up here. I can handle the horse and barge meself but since my man was taken by the military lottery unloading takes a bit longer.” Anne and Gwen looked at her blankly. “It's a dozen new closed kitchen ranges on top of a barge load of coal. One's right gradely. Must be fer the big house rest of them look cottage sized to me.” “What for here?” “So far as I knows.” Helen shrugged her shoulders. Gwen dashed off to find Albert. “You wouldn't know anything about a dozen new ranges and a load of coal would you?” “Oh have they arrived. Get the men together and get the barge off loaded, if it takes more than a day we get charged demurrage for the barge. There should be a big un for thee. That's just so you can cook for five thousand next time.” Gwen stormed off back to the kitchen. “Men!! I'll have a wagon down there directly.” She turned to Anne “We need to get all the men down to unload the barge as fast as we can. I'll see if I can spot Walter hanging round the stables and set him off to spread the word.”

“So why a dozen and who gets a range then?” “I had a note from Sam. When he enquired about a big un they had a batch of cottage sized ones ready made so he picked them up for a reasonable price. Do as you think best, bigger houses and cottages first if they haven't got one already the rest will get one in time.”

Albert wandered outside to see how the unloading was going on. “Is it working out Helen?” “Just about. The pair of horses and the butty makes all the difference. I worry about the boys not getting any schooling but then think at least they're fed and we have somewhere to live. I end up with a hundred or more packages sometimes going to different places. The boys can at least read the addresses. Sometimes it's easier, just a single load. It was a bit tight last winter with the canals freezing up and we had to break the ice to move the boats but it's better now. I have a bit put by. How much do I owe you for the butty and the second horse?” “Think nothing of it, Nick's a good friend and it's the least I could do and even though it wasn't very much at the time. Besides I have a share in the canal so you're paying me back in tolls. I'll try to think of a way to get the boys some schooling sometime. Want me to look after some of your money rather than have it lying around the barge?” Helen nodded. “By the way have you any wool, clay, flint or hard stone?” “I'm not sure but Anne would know.” “There's plenty of cargo from Manchester to London but not so much on the return journey. The potteries will pay for the right sort of clay or flint and hard stone is always needed for roads. It's the return loads that make the difference. I have some salt on the barge. I'm trading on my own now in a small way if you'd care to buy.” “I'll buy, see Anne with the details.”

“If we built a wharf and warehouse on the canal, we could store things up ready to ship out with Helen. She tells me the prices she can get up in the manufacturies are much higher than we can get locally.” Anne crossed her fingers was she asking for too much? “I've seen them with a covered area for the barge, be dryer if its raining.” “Is that a yes?” “That's a yes and Helen can bring in the bricks.”

“Right now what do you want doing about the cottages that are overcrowded and them that need repairs?” “Repair them?” “Some are major and that means the builders in for a month or two.” “Can you move people into the farm houses? Any widows on their own we could nudge together? Perhaps closer to the village where they can be kept an eye on more easily?” Anne thought about it. “I'll have to think on it but yes that might work.”

Albert was laid back in his chair. Behind him Gwen was giving his shoulders and back of neck a massage. Knelling at his feet Irene was gently curling her fingers round his manhood when Anne burst through the door. “Sh.” Indicated Gwen, “We're trying to get him to take on another half dozen maids.” “Leave him some blood for his brains or maybe not. Can we add another out of work maid to the list? Alma's been let go by Mrs. Naylor, says she can't afford to keep her on and gossip says Miss Bell has been given notice.” Albert spoke without opening his eyes. “Who is Mrs. Naylor?” “She's a war widow, gentry with a young son but little money but she knows her herbs and has been known to treat the villagers when sick. She rents one of our cottages near the village.” “Check the rent book and see if she's paid.” “Not yet, she gets her allowance quarterly so it turns up about a week after quarter day and that's when she pays her rent.” “Take a couple of ex-soldiers and move her to the dower house. Forcibly if need be, but I think she'll just come storming to me, so strip her cottage when she comes, take all the maids with you to pack things up and the farm wagon to carry everything.” “But she's gentry you can't do that to gentry.” “Just do it or you'll be looking for work as well.”

Fifteen minutes later a few minutes after Albert had ejaculated and Irene was curled up in his lap the door swung open and a furious woman stood there. “How dare you!” Albert opened his eyes. “How dare I what?” “Throw me out of my cottage.” “Well its quarter day and you hadn't paid your rent so the tenancy can be terminated which is what I've done.” “You despicable monster! You knew I'd pay within a week! My poor baby without a roof over his head!” “You had the offer of the dower house?” “I can't afford that!” “It's a peppercorn rent.” With the wind taken out of her sails Mrs. Naylor flopped down in the other armchair. “But why?” “You're gentry and the estate needs someone to go round the workers and old folk to see what they need. They won't talk to me in the same way as they would to you and if Anne asked then they'd consider her as being nosey but you could do it. Plus Irene tells me we have out of work girls including Miss Bell that need jobs so train two or three of them at the dower house by next year when the harvest is better and there will be work for trained maids. I'll stand the nonsense and finally we have a pony who needs exercising, perhaps your son could help?” “You mean Michael gets a governess?” “Well if I employed her eyebrows would be raised especially if she was thought to be strict.” The thought of Miss Bell in thigh high leather boots carrying a riding crop sprang to mind and he felt himself hardening against Irene. She bent to his ear and whispered “I'll ask Martin for a cravache before our next French lesson shall I?” “Irene can you sort out one of the girls to act as a lady's maid to Miss Bell and Mrs. Naylor and speak to Gwen to see if one of them knows anything about cookery.” He turned to Mrs. Naylor “and now if you'll excuse me its time for Irene's French lesson. Your goods and chattels will have been conveyed to the dower house by now and Anne tells me there are two widows waiting to be moved into your old cottage.”

Miss Bell looked round and accepted a cup of tea. “It seems odd somehow to be working with your son but being paid by the estate?” “Apparently he needs someone to play lady of the manor.” “Until he gets married and his wife wants to play lady of the manor?” “With a name like Shufflebottom who'd have him?” “Many would, bottom is the same as dale or valley, and the shuffle part is a corruption of sheep. So his family came from a valley with sheep in it.” “Still talking of which, what do you think of our handsome curate then? I'm sure half the maids are in love with him, even if he can't afford a wife.” She took note of Miss Bell's blush and changed the subject. “Let's just hope that Mr. Shufflebottom doesn't get married for a long time.” Miss Bell nodded in agreement. To be told she had a half share in a lady's maid, a guest room in the dower house plus an extra five pounds a year so she'd be paid more than one of his maids was more than acceptable and Mrs. Naylor seemed inclined to treat her as a friend or coworker more than an employee, yes definitely acceptable.

“Now then where's your paper?” Albert blinked. “What's the rush?” “You get your copy sent direct. Baron Buckley has the Times but only after it's been rented out in London by the hour first so it's cheaper but he gets it a day later and I'm off to pay a morning call on Mrs. Lambert and Lady Buckley will be there.” “Let me guess you intend to just drop a few comments into the conversation from today's paper that Lady Buckley won't know about until tomorrow?” Mrs. Naylor smiled at him, he was so quick sometimes. “I think the Baron likes to hang on to his paper so she's usually two days behind but that's better than anyone else.” “Mrs. Naylor you're an evil woman.” “I do my little best.” Albert passed his paper over for her to skim through before leaving.

He had an evil thought and sent down his paper to the curate so it could be read on the same day as it arrived. He had an idea that one or two of the Baron's footmen drank at the inn when the curate would read the paper out loud.

Albert stretched his arm out and caught the new maid around the waist. Not that she needed much catching. He bent down and kissed her upraised lips, stroking her neck and shoulders as he did Anne when she melted rapidly. Strange it seemed to have little effect. Then he stroked her ear and felt her melt in his arms. “And who are you pray?” “Anne sir, or rather young Anne since I'm six months younger than the first one. The other tall new maid is tall Anne by the way.” Odd it seemed each girl had their own special erogenous zones, perhaps he'd just be his normal lazy self and concentrate on Anne's not that he'd begrudge himself a gentle pat on the bum as the others passed swinging their hips. “Can you read?” “Yes but not very well.” She admitted. “Well then each morning you can come and curl up in my lap and read one article of the paper out loud.”

Soon it became part of the routine for the maids to gather round whilst one curled up in his lap and the others listened as she read bits of the paper out. Albert would try to distract her by fondling her in his lap.

Helen knocked at the kitchen door once again. “Sam sent some boxes down for you. Together with some thirty pound sugar loaves. I've a letter here for himself as well.” She held out a letter. Gwen sent young Anne to have some of the labourers unload the barge whilst she herself carried the letter to Albert. “We'd best see what he's sent us then.” Albert stirred himself and called for Anne to come and attend him. First there were some over runs of cloth that Sam's wife had picked up cheap and sent down. Irene came and very carefully inspected them before directing they should be carefully carried to her work room. The boxes were carefully carried inside and placed in the empty drawing room. Albert carefully opened one up, inside were three rifles. “Right Anne organise your two ex-soldiers. Sam writes that if we form a volunteer corps then we're exempt from the militia lottery so let everyone know they've just volunteered. We'll have our first parade on Sunday and our two ex-soldiers can set up targets in the quarry and demonstrate how to shoot. Send word via the curate with the paper so he can let the lads in the pub know and I'll write a note for the local magistrate saying we've four dozen guns and four dozen volunteers.” “We haven't got four dozen male workers.” “Well I'm sure a maid or two can fire a gun.” “Aren't you suppose to drill?” “But no one says how much and if I'm in charge.” “Say no more. Uniforms?” “Sam sent some cloth down so get the maids cracking with their needles.” “Have you thought about a name?” “The Hamilton Estate Volunteers? Sounds posher than Albert's mob and posh is what we'll want to sound if we're to keep the magistrate's nose out of our business.” Anne grinned “Right you are then I'll draw up the list of volunteers and let them know they've volunteered.”

Gwen was sat drinking a cup of tea with Anne at the kitchen table. “Anne did I see young Anne dancing with a ploughman at the dance?” “Oh you mean the unmarried one who might get taken up in the militia lottery?” “Shall we ask young Anne to invite him to make up our numbers of skilled men?” They grinned at each other. When young Anne came in Gwen asked her “Can you think of a ploughman we might add to the estate?” “Unmarried for preference?” “One who would avoid the militia lottery by joining our volunteers?” Young Anne blushed, “You'd better ask him then.” “I couldn't not straight out.” “Want him to join the militia?” “All right I'll ask him on Sunday after church.”

“These are rifles?” “Yes?” “We've never used one before.” Anne looked at the instructions in front of her. “It says to load them like a musket if that means anything.” Together they managed to load the guns and try them out. “It's very different.” “Why?” “Well you know where you are with muskets. Everyone fires together but these you have to aim first.” Anne looked at them then spread a blanket on the ground. She folded a woolen scarf up on her shoulder and lay down. She rested the barrel on a bag of sand then squeezed the trigger gently. There was a bang, a cloud of smoke and in the quarry she'd managed to hit the mark she'd been aiming at. “See nothing to it.” She said, carefully nursing her shoulder. The ex-soldiers were surprised she'd hit the target. “Beginners' luck.” Anne carefully reloaded the gun and lay down again. Her second shot hit the target as well.

“But that's not right. You're supposed to stand and shoot standing up, then the first line retreats behind the second line and the second line fires whilst the first reloads.” Albert had stood watching behind. “It seems to me if you can hit the target with one rifle shot you don't need the other twenty muskets. Standing up is all very well but as Anne says the rifles are heavy and if you're lying down you're not such a large target. We'll go with Anne's suggestions.”

“Takes longer to reload than a Brown Bess like what the Baron's men have.” “Do you want apple pie for supper?” Asked Gwen ominously. “Still as you say they are accurate.”

“What about uniforms?” Asked Thomas one of the elderly farm labourers who did a bit of poaching on the side. “If we're lying down to shoot we don't need no fancy red coat. Summat like a bit of canvas would do better. With a pad on the shoulder to take the shock like.” “I'll ask the girls what would be the most practical.” Irene was already thinking of weight of material and where to put in the reinforcements and padding.

Gwen ran her eyes over the sugar cones, not the top quality but good enough to keep starvation at bay overwinter. One per family but Anne would sort it out. The nutmeg and other spices would come in useful as well but they were strictly for her own use.

“Try it on.” Irene held out her newly designed shooting jacket to Anne. “It feels a bit stiff.” “Well it seems to me you're trying to stay still when shooting so I thought the stiffness might help. What about the leather elbow pads?” Anne lay down on the floor. “I hadn't thought of that before but they do help but why the bit on the sleeve?” “It's to stop the strap rubbing through the material. You should try it out to see if it works.” Anne looked at her “I thought we could leave that to the volunteers?” “This one is your size as I had your measurements handy.”

Thomas had a look and made some suggestions on how to hold the gun. Well he'd been using his shotgun for nigh on fifty years and there wasn't much difference. Anne fired five rounds before stopping saying she'd had enough but the jacket worked well. Irene and Thomas worked together on the design and Irene had Sam send her more heavy unbleached cotton material down together with some suitable leather for patches. Thomas had the village cobbler make up a stiff left glove with exposed fingers and a padded palm since he thought it might be more comfortable for Anne. Looking at how she was holding the rifle and how the strap worked he had a cuff for the arm and a single point sling made up which Anne tried and found she preferred.

Three months later the Colonel came by to inspect the troops. He was aghast at the lack of red uniforms. “You should see Baron Buckley's volunteers, as smart as the real army. These, I don't know what to call them, I don't recognise them as a fighting force, more an excuse to keep out of the lottery for the militia. If I had them in my regiment, they'd soon be whipped into shape.” “They may not look like top soldiers but I'm prepared to back them in target practise against Baron Buckley's men any day. In fact I'll go further 10 gold sovereigns three of my volunteers can hit the target more than his full complement. Sunday next, three rounds each shooter. He can pick which of mine are to shoot and I'll pick the targets and range.” “Done and I have 10 sovereigns besides on his men.” The colonel rode off. Anne turned to him “What on earth have you done now! Are you out of your mind giving your money away?”

The following Sunday after church the whole village turned out to see the match at the quarry. Baron Buckley's men marched smartly up in their smart military looking uniforms with a one armed ex-drill serjeant ensuring they were all in step. Albert's volunteers arrived carrying their rifles in a haphazard manner. In the centre of the front rank Martin stood between the two ex-soldiers all smartly at attention. Behind them in the back row stood Tom ploughman, Anne, tall Anne, and an elderly slouching Thomas who looked as if he'd slept in his uniform.

“I can choose any?” Martin and the two ex-soldiers pushed their chests out. “Andrew your choice.” The one-armed serjeant stepped smartly forward and inspected the ranks of Albert's volunteers. He been offered twenty-five shillings if his men won. If they lost, it wouldn't bear thinking about. He intended to win taking every advantage he could. “You, you and you.” He pointed to the two girls, they'd never be able to hold the gun up never mind hit the target, and as for the dreadful man on the end with his untrimmed beard, he was a disgrace. He'd show them what trained men could do.

The Baron protested “We ought to give them a fair chance and at least select younger men.” Albert silenced him. “No that was his choice so let it stand. Now you may have first crack. The target is at the end of the quarry. Colonel I'd like you to go down to the butts and inspect the target.” The serjeant stared into the distance. “It must be 300 yards away. No one can hit that.” “If everyone misses then we'll have a second round closer to the targets.” The colonel mounted and took his horse to the target area and inspected the target to ensure it was clean. He came galloping back before the soldiers opened fire.

“Positions.” Baron Buckley's men formed a line two deep. “First rank fire!” There was a loud bang as the first volley was fired from the standing soldiers. “Retreat! Second rank fire!” A second volley was fired. A flag was raised at the target end to indicate an outer. In total six volleys were fired and the Colonel went off to inspect the target to find two holes near the bottom which were covered with patches.

The Serjeant stood grinning. His men had done the impossible and hit the target twice at 300 yards. “Well-done lads. Let's see them beat that.”

Anne looked down at the dusty ground then motioned Martin to put a blanket down for her to lie on. She knelt down and smoothed the wrinkles out before placing a bag of sand carefully at the front then lying down with the rifle resting it on the bag of sand. The Colonel was dumb founded. He was about to speak when Albert motioned him to silence.

“Fire in your own time.” Came the command. Anne clipped the sling to her cuff and seemed to wiggle slightly as she found the most comfortable position. Then she gently squeezed the trigger. At the butts a flag was waved to show a magpie. Besides her Thomas, who lying close by, had a telescope out on a stand called “ten o'clock.” He rolled over and took the rifle from her and reloaded it for her using a twist of paper containing a carefully weighed measure of gunpowder. Her second was an inner at four o'clock. Her final shot was between the previous two, a bull. The Colonel, Baron Buckley and the serjeant were speechless. The villagers broke into a round of applause.

Next came tall Anne and the same performance was repeated once more. This time the score was two outers and an inner. Finally Thomas took up his position and very carefully fired his first shot. Anne loaded for him between shots. He managed a very creditable two inners and a bull.

The Colonel galloped down to inspect the target. Then brought it back with him. “Well they hit the target all right. One of the magpies cut the line but it's there right enough.” He reached in his purse and handed Albert ten pounds. Baron Buckley followed. Whilst the baron was finding his ten sovereigns the Colonel spoke quietly to Anne. “I'm looking for a pair of maids who can shoot. I'm offering fifteen pounds a year.” Anne looked at him, “Seventeen pounds and that's five pounds a year more than the going rate.” “Your wife is notorious for not employing any maids under thirty.” The Colonel looked at her astounded. “Good heavens I never noticed.” “And generous though your offer is, I have family on the estate so I'd prefer to stay.” “And the other maid?” He asked hopefully “She's walking out with one of the men on the estate and your wife doesn't allow followers.” “Mr. Shufflebottom does?” “I don't think he notices such things. He certainly has never said owt about it.”

The Colonel looked at old Tom. “You know I've heard some stories about riflemen, light infantry they're called but I've never given the tales any credence before.” “Well it seems to me that if you can shoot a man at a distance you don't need a fancy uniform to be seen for miles away. “Best take an old poacher's approach and wear clothing that fades into the background.” “Old poacher are you?” “I'm saying nowt but one hears a thing or two down the pub of an evening.” “What if it's windy?” “It makes a difference but not as much as you might expect. Once you know how hard its blowing and from which direction you can compensate. We had it easy today not much wind.” “And the three best shooters I suspect.” “Aye but some of the others aren't far behind. Most can hit the target at 300 paces but Anne and tall Anne have a good eye for women.”

The dejected serjeant led his men away. The Baron and Colonel mounted and rode off. As they rode away Anne turned on Albert. “You set them up didn't you?” “How could I? They chose the shooters.” “Do we see any of the money?” Asked tall Anne pertly. “Six pounds, thirteen shillings and four pence each for the three of you.” “Is that all? I was hoping for a third.” Albert shook his head and glanced over at Anne. “What would you like as a reward then?” “Reward you deserve a tongue lashing for missing the bulls eye.” Albert's eyes lit up. “After supper.” “I'm right sorry about missing them bull eyes but can I have a dance next Friday night anyway?” Albert nodded his agreement. “See to it Anne and explain about the money.”

Anne tried to explain that six pounds thirteen shillings and four pence was a third but it was only when the twenty pounds was divided up on the kitchen table among the three of them and the coins counted out that tall Anne blurted “I'd never had thought that you could divide money up by doing sums instead of counting it out.” But she carried off her prize to show her young man anyway before supper.

After supper she was summoned to Albert's room where both Albert and Anne awaited her. “Get undressed.” Tall Anne looked fearful but did as she was bid holding her dress up in front of herself. “Kiss her on the lips first.” Commanded Anne. Albert did as he was bid and young Anne let the dress pool at her feet. “Lift her onto the bed and take her left breast into your mouth.” Anne herself took tall Anne's other breast into her own mouth much to young Anne's astonishment. Ten minutes later as tall Anne lay moaning on the bed Albert lowered himself between her thighs and started to lap her with his tongue. Tall Anne grasped his head with her hands though whether to hold him in place or push him away she couldn't say. Afterwards she lay in Albert's arms relaxing until she had a thought. “Do I get this tongue lashing every time I miss the bull's eye?” Albert spanked her very gently on her bottom. “Anne missed it twice as well. She must deserve one?” Then she snuggled down in his arms and fell asleep all thoughts of her young man had disappeared for the moment.

It was six months later that the bank manager came to call. “I've come to ask if you have any funds available?” Albert looked at him enquiringly. “Well everyone will know soon enough. We lent the money for Millicent's season based on her father's title.” “And no collateral? And now you need working capital to keep commerce going since he's slow paying it back?” The bank manager nodded. “Then consoles dived.” “And suddenly everyone wants their money or to borrow money to buy cheap consoles. You thought I might bail you out?” The bank manager managed a half-hearted smile. “There is no one else and two banks locally have gone under.” “I'll need a week and one of my clerks will look through your books. If it's basically sound then we can talk, give me a lift to the inn so I can send a letter on the mail coach.” He thought he'd left all the financial affairs behind him but apparently not. When the letter reached his manager Sam gathered up his two top clerks and dashed south.

The four of them worked their way through the bank's books. Too many loans were to the aristocracy without collateral but it was thought a run on the bank could be covered. The price wasn't high since it was a distressed sale. Deposits could be expected from the clients of the other two banks that had gone under and some loan business as well.

Sam thought it best to leave one clerk behind at the bank who had sole authority over who could be lent money to, and his instructions were only to lend on collateral. He was given a limit above which either Sam or Albert's authority would be needed. The bank manager was left as a front on a salary. The commissions on stock and bond buying and selling would be 10% for the bank manager, 40% for the bank and 50% for Sam's clerk. The bank manager would be responsible for sending out the politely phased letters that regretted further loans could not be accommodated without collateral.

In the months following Albert came to realise that with discipline banks could be profitable especially when Sam could place loans in Liverpool to businessmen, who understood about collateral. The first harvest was better than Anne has expected but it wasn't critical except to the bank where a number of estate workers deposited their share of the estate profits. Albert let Anne spend some of the income on the estate cottages and building a proper school. From time to time when men could be spared they would help Helen on the barge whilst her two sons attended school. The second harvest was better than the first as the changes Anne had implemented started to pay off.

In the mysterious ways of the country Martin was made aware of the coach and four stuck in the mud on the unmade road where the stream crossed before the hill. He harnessed up Tick and Tock first, then Bill and Belle, Anne when she heard the news came out and harnessed up the final pair of Nip and Tuck. Martin set out first on Tick alongside Tock leading Bill and Belle Anne clambered aboard Nip and clattered after him. “Should be good for sixpence if nothing else?” He called back to her. They found the coach in mud up to its axles and the poor carriage horses were far too worn out to pull the coach out of the mud and up the hill. Martin hitched up the three pairs of farm horses then led them on foot as slowly the coach pulled out of the quagmire. Anne sat on the bank away from the mud. At the top of the hill they came to a halt to rest the horses. The carriage window was wound down and a very lady like voice drifted out “Is there a comfortable inn that might be suitable for a very ill old lady?” Anne walked up to the coach and the door was opened. Inside a frail looking old lady muttered “Don't make such a fuss child.” “We should never have set out this morning. I'm certain you're running a temperature.” “I think we'd better take you back to the house. Mrs. Naylor can take care of her.” She said crossing her fingers.

Albert met them at the front door and taking one look at Amanda's great-Aunt lifted her up and carried her to his bed. Amanda trailed behind. Mrs. Naylor came dashing up as soon as she heard her services were required. “Shouldn't we call a doctor in?” “Well with the heavy rains it would take an hour to reach his home on horseback and a couple more hours for him to return. I think she'll do better with Mrs. Naylor.” Albert guided her downstairs to the kitchen which was the only room with a fire burning. “Albert Shufflebottom” he offered. “Miss Amanda Lyons and my great-Aunt is Mrs. Norton. Do you have room for us here?” “Plenty of room, it's just beds we're short of. I brought the place from the bank after they had foreclosed. They sold off all the furniture and I haven't got round to buying more. But your Aunt can have my room and I'm sure Irene won't mind giving up her room for yourself. Do you have a maid with you?” “We were hoping to hire one when we get to London so we've been making do with the staff at the inns we stayed at.” “Are you doing the season then?” “Not with the ton, my father's manufactory provides wealth enough but I don't have the connections.” “I'll ask Irene to look after you as she is an experienced lady's maid. Here she is now. Irene could you act as lady's maid to Miss Lyons. I thought perhaps we could give her the blue room?” Irene curtsied in a formal manner. “If you'd like to follow me I'll show you to your room and get you settled in.”

Miss Lyons looked round the room. Not well furnished but for a day or two it would do. “I'll light the fire but the bed is aired.” “What shall I call you?” “Hurst I think would suit us both, if that meets with your approval. Mr. Shufflebottom is a little informal sometimes. Your great-Aunt is next door through the connecting door.” Miss Lyons stepped through the door and closed it too behind her whilst Irene unpacked the trunk that had been brought upstairs.

“That young man who carried me upstairs I've seen him before at a business meeting with your father.” “Mr. Shufflebottom?” “That's his name. He's the Shufflebottom in Shufflebottom and co. He sold up most of his Great Aunt's business at a good profit but even the part remaining must give him a good income.” Amanda raised her eyebrows. “Well he's not a fortunate hunter then even if he looks like he hasn't a penny to spend. Now how are you?” “Very comfortable Mrs. Naylor certainly knows her herbs. She thinks I should stay wrapped up in bed for a fortnight before we continue our journey.” “Interesting, the house has possibilities and with our joint income we could well afford an elegant London town house. The staff would have to go of course. I'd feel more comfortable with more experienced staff.” On the other side of the door Irene heard every word. She slipped out downstairs before Amanda realised she'd been overheard.

“Why would Miss Lyons want more experienced staff?” She asked Albert. “I've no idea. You're an experienced ladies maid. Did she say this to you?” “No she was talking to her great-aunt but the door just happened to be open a crack and I was on the other side.” “Naughty. What was the rest of the conversation?” So Irene told him word for word. “Oh and looking at her gowns I don't think she'll be comfortable dining in the kitchen. We could get a case of fever in the village to speed them on their way?” Albert grinned “Unfortunately not and since I have business dealings with her father I don't want to jeopardise the relationship. We're stuck with them I'm afraid.” “Want me to talk to Anne and organise something. I think Mrs. Naylor might lend us a table cloth and a few plates. Where am I supposed to be sleeping tonight by the way since you gave away my room?” “I'm sure we can sort something out. Martin has a double bed doesn't he? Ask Mrs. Naylor and Miss Bell if they'd like to join me for dinner tonight. If there is any hesitation tell them it's a royal command. Oh and find Anne and send her to me.”

“Irene said you wanted me? I assume it was something other than your mid-afternoon grope?” “Come and sit in my lap my dear.” Anne sat in his lap primly as Albert ran his fingers lightly over her neck and chin. “We have a problem.” “We or you?” “All right I have a problem Miss Lyons feels I'm suitable husband material.” “That's not a problem we can just call in the doctor and get him to prescribe something until she's feeling more the thing.” Albert parted his legs and Anne clung on so she wasn't dropped on the floor. “I don't want to offend her but I don't want to end up married to her either.” “So you want me to find ways so she doesn't catch you alone. Well it will cost you. I suppose you want to share my bed at night?” “It would be safer.” “Mrs. Naylor was saying the other day that her son needed more attention from the males in his life.” “I wonder if he has a set of toy soldiers?” “I'll volunteer your services to Mrs. Naylor when I see her about borrowing her dining room chairs, table cloth and plates. I think for a few yards of dress weight cloth things could be arranged.”

That evening four of them sat down to dinner in the dining room. Mrs. Naylor's comment of “It almost feels like home.” went over Miss Lyon's head, but Miss Bell had a bad coughing fit into her serviette and Albert's face looked a little pinker in the fading daylight whilst the two maids serving openly grinned at Albert's discomfort from behind Miss Lyon. After her one tease Mrs. Naylor dropped into hostess mode and opened up the conversation to more conventional topics. “Speaking of home, where is yours Miss Lyon.” The meal passed smoothly and afterwards with the daylight fading everyone retired. Irene looked in amazement as Miss Lyon indicated she should light a wax candle from a taper lit from the fire so she could refer to her notes. Irene marvelled at having enough money to be able to afford wax candles rather than the homemade tallow candles she was used to but if Miss Lyon could afford such luxury did this mean Mr. Shufflebottom could as well? There was a definite air of mystery about him.

At the dower house there was much discussion about their new guest and her very fashionable gowns. “Do you think it might lead to anything?” “I'm not sure, he seemed to be going to a lot of trouble to ensure she was comfortable but there didn't seem any particular interest. Oh by the way Mr. Shufflebottom intends to drop by the schoolroom in the morning he has an interest in John's toy soldiers I understand.” “Either that or he's trying to avoid entertaining our guest.” The two women looked thoughtfully at each other. “Did we dine with him out of the goodness of your heart?” “Well after he'd borrowed my dining room there wasn't much choice was there. Besides I've been promised three dress lengths for myself and three for you. Irene thought if we purchased enough material for some very loose skirts we might even be able to stretch it to more than six dresses between us.”

That evening Albert slipped into Anne's room and eased her over to the cold part of the mattress so he could steal the warm bit. “I could have arranged a warming pan?” “What and waste all that hot water? We'll need it in the morning for madam's bath.”

Next morning Miss Lyon descended dressed in her riding habit to the dining room for breakfast. Irene had already passed word downstairs that she intended riding that morning. Gwen asked her what she'd like and went off to prepare it for her. “Is Mr. Shufflebottom about?” “Unfortunately you've missed him. He's gone off to take a look in at the Colonel but if you care to go for a ride I'm sure the stables will find you a suitable mount.” Miss Lyon considered the matter, she had hoped to be shown over the estate and had memorised up a list of questions she could ask so Mr. Shufflebottom could show off his knowledge. Still, a ride was a ride. She'd see what the stables held.

Martin brought Mischief to the front door together with one of the hunters for his own use. Miss Lyon used the mounting block and after a few sidles from Mischief they set off. “Which is Mr. Shufflebottom's favourite ride?” She asked “I haven't seen him ride a horse since I came, in fact I don't think he does.” “But surely this mare must be someone's personal mount?” “She used to be Millicent's but she got married and her husband brought her a fresh mount. Mr. Shufflebottom brought three horses and a pony in case we might need one or two on the estate.”

At the dower house Albert passed over a letter to Mrs. Naylor when he arrived and explained all about the regimental system of the British army and how they all had tiny differences in their uniform to a fascinated John. How light infantry different from line infantry and dragoons from cavalry. Time slipped by quickly and soon Miss Mills was at the door telling them it was time for lunch.

Anne and Mrs. Naylor between them had reams of questions for him about the estate. He looked at them blankly until Anne reminded him Miss Lyon was waiting to pounce on him at the house then suddenly he realised that yes discussing the estate problems with both of them was just the thing to pass the afternoon. Mrs. Naylor started by asking whether or not they could pay an allowance to everyone on the estate. “It would save Tom and his like spending all their money on booze if we could pass some to his wife perhaps with an allowance for children.” “If you drew up a list of what food was needed to get everyone through the winter that might be a start. There's a baker in the village I'm sure if we purchased a loaf a week per person we could get a reasonable price especially if someone took one of those horses I got talked into buying and trap and delivered them. Mind you a hand cart would probably do for the most part.” “You mean deliver twice a week a small loaf to singles and a normal one to families?” “Work with the baker on which days are best for him. Children need milk and are better for an egg a day so work out how much we need then I'm sure one of the farms has a dairy so we'll need cows to milk and a few hens for eggs.” “So we're feeding them to get them through the winter rather than paying them?” “Be lighter on my purse but we'd best let the men have some beer money.” “Meat?” “Just draw up a list then sort it out what we need. There's a butcher in the village and I'm sure if you approach him he could sort out sausages and stewing meat. I know Mr. Pitt has said that we should eat meat to save bread but my purse says otherwise. The butcher can always sell the tenderloin to the Baron's chef.” “You mean buy sheep, pigs and cattle now and he can slaughter them over winter?” “Best buy decent breeding stock though where you can. Steers will serve for beef. Eggs and cheese are cheaper so meat twice a week and eggs or cheese for everyday. Oh whilst I think about it, the paper mentioned they think the army and navy will be wanting food. Prices will be good so see if you can increase the land we set aside for grain. Is that wheat and so forth?” Anne shook her head. Meat twice a week they'd never see that much meat apart from a spot of bacon, squirrel or rabbit even in good times.

Mrs. Naylor had her say as well. Women in an interesting condition should be fed better. If it was good enough for Napoleon's French then it was good enough for the workers. Healthier babies meant fewer deaths and she really didn't like consoling women on the deaths of their babies so many died in the first year. “What about game?” Albert looked puzzled. “Before the enclosure act the workers could catch rabbits and they had grazing rights on the common land.” “So if they live on the estate they can catch rabbits and you'd better buy them a piglet each. Do they graze in the woods?” Anne made notes to read up about which breeds where best for grazing in woods and how to manage them. She'd need a stockman who knew pigs, next time she went to market she'd see what the gossip was on who was available.

As Anne asked her questions Mrs. Naylor thought about Esther's letter asking her if she know of any positions as a companion. Mrs. Voss had died, and ideally before she ran out of her savings. She remembered her as being very practical and had taught many of the camp followers children their letters when they had been in Spain. “Have you thought about a school?” She asked when Anne's questions had come to a pause. Albert looked at her blankly “For your son?” “I was thinking more in terms of the labourer's children.” “Boys or girls and boys?” “Both?” She said daringly “We'd never find a teacher who is available and where would they live?” “I can think of one who is available and there is room in the dower house for Esther and myself.” Anne looked stunned, what a marvellous idea. She'd better act quickly before he said no. She moved across and kissed him gently on the lips before kneeling before him and undoing his flies. She motioned with her eyes to Mrs. Naylor to stand behind him and massage his shoulders. Then she slipped her delicate fingers in and found his hardness. Mrs. Naylor couldn't believe her eyes, she'd been married and never thought to do to her husband what was happening before her eyes. What if John or Miss Mills came into the room what would they think. Still if it got Esther a job who was she to say anything. She opened her eyes and peeped at Anne's bobbing head that seemed to have paused. Anne lifted her head “Do we get a school then?” She asked innocently. At his nod she finished him off.

Afterwards Mrs. Naylor and Anne were talking. “You know being husband hunted means at least he is thinking and talking to us about the estate.” “Some of his ideas make sense as well.” “I'm not so sure about shopping for sheep, pigs and cattle.” “I'm sure a couple of farm workers will know what to look for, take them with you to market.”

That evening Miss Lyon asked how his meeting with the colonel had gone. Albert looked puzzled for a moment and then caught himself. “John has a very good grasp of tactics and strategy but I think we'll need to work out a few contingency plans. Should only take a week or two.” “I hadn't realised the militia was so necessary these days.” “Well whilst we don't have that many factories it's as well to be prepared. Now I understand you went riding today, did you enjoy it?” “Mischief was a very pleasant mount but tell me more about your estate?” “It's there that's all I know about it.” “How many tenants do you have?” She was proud of that one. “None at the moment. The previous owner raised the rents and the tenants left en mass.” Mrs. Naylor stepped in and asked where did she have her dress made up and the talk around the table turned to fashion.

Anne started to write more and more down. She sent off for books about the latest farming techniques to improve yields. Sam sent her a barge load of lime which she arranged to be unloaded and hoped she could find out what to do with it in one of the books.

By the second week Amanda was feeling at a loose end. The house needed redecorating and refurnishing. After breakfast she ran her white cotton glove over the sideboard inspecting for dust. Really the servants had no idea but that would be changed. She rang and Anne appeared. She held up her glove to show the dust she'd collected by running it over the sideboard. “Neglect!” She uttered. “I'll set a maid onto it right away.” Well there were two new ones over in the dower house so they could spend their time dusting everything in sight. At the dower house there was consternation at the fact Amanda was checking for dust. “Just who does she think she is?” “Mrs. Shufflebottom to be would be my guess.” “But he wouldn't.” “When have men had any say in such matters?” “Can you think of an alternative?” “Anne or Miss Mills?” “I can't see the neighbours accepting either and with due respect marrying a governess or servant only happens in penny romances.” “One of the baron's daughters?” “Can you honestly see them being called Mrs. Shufflebottom or being content to live in the country?” Heads were shaken at these words. “Esther?” “Did someone mention my name?” Esther entered and kissed Mrs. Naylor lightly on the lips as she slipped her arm around her waist. “I suppose that rules out Mrs. Naylor as well.” Said Anne gloomily.

Amanda was sat looking out over the neglected garden when her eye lit on Irene's tape measure. “Come with me and we'll measure the house.” They carefully measured every single room and every window and noted which direction each window faced. Then she started to make plans. Irene made her own copy of the measurements.

The night before she left Amanda made a pronouncement. “I've been so impressed with Hurst that I've decided to take her with me to London.” Irene who was stood behind her looked decidedly taken back. “Well you may borrow her for the journey, in fact I would be happier if you took my head groom with you as well, but wouldn't you be better off with a London trained ladies' maid?” “You could be right. These carrots could be tenderer.” Mrs. Naylor steered the conversation away from the quality of food and back on to fashion.

After the meal Albert had Irene and Martin attend him in the library. “I daren't offend her father and I have some documents I'd like you to carry with you. When you get to London you're to go to 55 Britton Street and give this letter to Mr. Wallis. He'll arrange accommodation for you whilst in London and on the second of the month he'll be coming to me with some documents so you can get a ride back. That should give you a fortnight in London to see the sights and here's a purse to cover expenses.” Irene passed over her copy of the house plans that Amanda had drawn up. “You might find a use for these sometime. Sam for example might be able to buy some carpets for you, after all he did quite well on the ranges.” Albert tucked it away in his jacket pocket.

Amanda turned and kissed him on the lips. “Now look after yourself whilst I'm gone. I've taken careful note of all the sizes of the rooms so I can look through the carpets and I've some basic ideas for the curtains and furniture so we can sort it all out when I return in two months.” Albert stood there in the door way numb with shock as the carriage rumbled off. “I don't recall proposing.” He murmured to himself. “I don't think a little thing like that will stop her. She'll be back with a special license, her father and collection of relatives for the wedding and she knows you won't want to offend her father.” “I've always wondered about travelling. Seeing foreign shores.” “Coward.” “Discretion is the better part of valour, and cowardice is the better part of discretion. Canada?” “For someone who likes a fire in his study and bedroom do you really think you could stand the winters?” “America?” “Too hot, and don't even think about Australia. I've heard it's all upside down and they have winter in June and summer in December.” “Ireland?” “It rains.” Albert looked glum as he ran out of ideas. “Cheer up. We've still two months to think of something.”

Two days later a letter arrived brought up from the inn by the innkeeper's son. “Me dad thought it were important.” He looked expectantly as he handed over the letter. Albert broke open the seal and skimmed the contents. “Tell him he's right. It is. Anne give the lad a florin he's done well. I'll need to pack a bag and be down at the inn for the night mail.” “Is there a family problem?” “Nay lass. Well nowt for thee to worry about, just a spot of trouble at mill as you might say.”

The night mail, a crown to the guard found him a place next to the driver until a seat was available inside. Travelling at night the roads were less crowded and the mail dashed through the night pausing only to change teams. Sometimes the guard would throw down any mail to be delivered and snatch up any to be carried forward without the coach even stopping. The guard would give a blast on his horn before a toll gate to ensure the gate was opened and the coach wasn't delayed. The journey was faster than a stage coach but more expensive. Eventually he arrived at his partner's house, an end of terrace home next to the mill that was a little grander than the next house door but not by much.

He was greeted by his partner's daughter, dressed like a servant, who kept house for him and was looking exhausted from the effort of looking after her patient. “Get thyself inside. He's upstairs, been fretting about how long you'd be. He's not in a good way.” They climbed the stairs together and Patience announced “Father Mr. Shufflebottom has arrived.” Father opened his eyes. “I'm a goner.” “Now father there's no need to take on so. I'm quite sure the Doctor will pull you through.” “The damn quack just wants his fee and my blood to feed his leaches. No I need Albert for another reason.” He turned his head to face Albert. “It's my daughter Patience, I need to know she'll be in good hands after I've gone. You'll marry her. Patience, he's a good man and we can trust him.” “I'd thought I'd at least be asked.” Albert looked up at her. “Well it's not the most romantic time but will you have me?” Patience smiled at him “I'd better had. It'll set his mind at ease. I suppose we'd better get the banns read.” “No need, in the drawer you'll find a certificate saying the banns have been read at Saint Mary's church these last three weeks.” “Father that's not our local church.” “Well we didn't need everyone knowing our business. It's legal and that's all that matters. Send young Johnny next door for the vicar and you can be married within the hour.” “Come down and I'll make you a cup of tea and father can have a rest besides.”

They sat at the kitchen table supping their tea after sending Johnny to fetch the vicar. “Well being married means I won't have to worry about where the rent comes from will I?” “True but I suspect your father owns the house.” “He's never said a word.” “Do you have any servants to share the nursing?” “The likes of us having servants? Father would never stand the expense.” Albert raised his eyebrow. “You know of course that he owns half the mill?” “But that must mean he's worth thousands of pounds!” She stared at him “Does that mean you're a fortune hunter then?” “I own the other half, plus a pottery in Liverpool, one or two other businesses and a country estate.” “But a bob or two more wouldn't go amiss?” Albert grinned at her. “Know anyone we can ask to share the nursing?” “Well there's always my friend Uriana. She's looking for work as a governess at the moment.” “Can you send for her and perhaps I can negociate something with her?” Patience nodded and opened the kitchen door. “Sally go and find Uriana for me. It's worth a farthing.” She turned to Albert, I hope you have one otherwise I'll have to raid my jar on the mantelpiece.” “We should get Sam over here he only lives a mile away, have we run out of next door's children yet?” “Tell me where he lives and I'll get word.” Albert wrote out the address on a scrap of paper. On the other side he wrote you're needed urgently and signed it. It was dispatched with a half crown and Sally's dad after Albert had described the house to him.

Uriana arrived first. “I hear a strange man has turned up, are you going to bring him up to scratch?” Albert stepped towards the open back door. “In about an hour we'll be wed.” “Patience you didn't even give me a hint!” “Well I only found out about it myself ten minutes ago.” “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you both. Is there anything I can do to help?” “Apart from be bridesmaid? For a pound a week would you be interested in acting as companion to my wife to be? She needs a hand with nursing father at the moment and I think she'll need a bit of support when we move to the country.” Uriana looked towards Patience “Would you like that?” “Yes please.”

There was a knock at the door and Sam entered when bid. “Sam you're just in time, I'm getting married shortly and I wondered if you can arrange things to make life easier for my intended.” “Right then when's the wedding?” “As soon as the vicar arrives.” “Not a long engagement then. Anything I can do to start?” “After the kitchen ranges Irene mentioned you might be able to find some carpets and curtains.” He scrambled through his pockets and eventually finding the house plan he beamed with pleasure. “I knew I'd put it somewhere safe. She gave me this with all the measurements.”

“Perhaps your new fiancée could have some input?” Suggested Uriana dryly. Patience smiled at him and took the paper from him. “It's quite a large house.” “Yes but the bank sold off all the furnishings and carpets so it's a bit bleak at the moment. If you wouldn't mind choosing then Sam Clegg here can arrange payment and transport.” “Is there a budget?” “Would a thousand cover it? Sam can make more available if need be.” “Oh I'm sure we can come up with something.” Smiled Uriana with both Patience and herself looking like a pair of cats, who have just discovered a large bowl of fresh cream. “And of course she'll need some new clothes to fit her new station in life as lady of the manor.” Uriana slipped in. “The choice of fabrics will be a bit more limited in the country.” Said Sam quietly. “I know and it's cheaper to buy in bulk so the pair of you had better have new gowns. Sam will settle the bill.” “You don't expect me to wear morning for the penny pincher upstairs do you?” At Uriana stare Patience continued “My husband to be has just been telling me that father owns half the mill.” “But that means.” Patience nodded. “Well you could compromise with one black silk nightdress?” Albert's eyes lit up. “Sounds an excellent idea, or perhaps two?” “One track mind some men.”

The vicar arrived and everyone moved up to the bedroom where the marriage ceremony was quietly performed in front of Patience's father after the vicar had examined the bann reading certificate. Patience quietly passing the groom her mother's wedding ring so he could slip it on her finger. “I can die a happy man now.” Gasped Patience's father after the vicar had pronounced them man and wife.

Afterwards over tea in the kitchen it was decided that Albert would return on the mail home whilst Uriana and Patience would nurse Mr. Postlethwaite. Patience declared having worn black for most of her life she didn't see why she had to wear it for a year of mourning. Albert took the view when she arrived in the south no one would know her father had just died so it didn't matter anyway. Uriana and Patience would sort out dresses for themselves, furniture and carpets for the house with Sam looking after the finances. “I can speak to the Haydocks and arrange to borrow their travelling coach and four when you're ready.” “You know the Haydocks?” there was disbelief in Patience's tone. “We've done business together.” Patience wondered at her change in circumstances.

“You know you've done such an excellent job of supervising the estate. You're promoted to steward at double your present salary.” Anne stared at him “You're mad who ever heard of a female steward?” “Does that mean you're refusing?” Anne thought quickly “No.” “Well then it's done.” She was puzzled as to why but was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Sunday arrived. “Time for church, it's the Vicar himself today.” “Who do we normally have?” “Oh his curate. Ever since the last Vicar retired. I think the living is in the gift of the estate. Anyway best Sunday finery, I assume we're walking as normal.” “We could take the carriage?” “It's a nice day for a walk and if we take the carriage people might put two and two together and think you had money, the Baroness Buckley for example.” “I've decided it is a pleasant day for a walk after all.”

The sermon had a more scholarly air about it. The villagers weren't quite so relaxed or looking as if they followed what was being said still they enjoyed the hymns. Afterwards as they filed out the Vicar greeted them. “You must be the couple who want the banns to be read?” “I'm sorry but I was married up north recently at my wife's home. She'll be joining me shortly once she's tied up a few things.” Anne who was stood besides him looked startled and suddenly realised the real reason for her promotion. It was up to her now to become the steward the estate needed. The curate spoke up “Sir, it was Martin and Irene who wanted the banns to be read. This is Mr. Shufflebottom, the new owner of the estate.” “I'm terribly sorry I didn't put you in an embarrassing position did I? Actually I've been meaning to call on you to ask you what you want to do with the living. Do you have a family member in mind?” “Would the curate be interested?” The curate looked astonished at the idea. “It's rather a generous living so what normally happens is a family member is given the living and then they employ a curate.” “The villagers seem to like his sermons so if you and he are agreeable I suggest he takes it over.” Albert looked at them both. “If you're quite sure.” Albert nodded. The curate looked a little dizzy. This was unforseen wealth. He'd be able to take a wife perhaps. He might even look as high as Miss Mills.