Covert Draft for Charlotte

It’s reaching that time. Practically speaking, it’s a good idea to start on covers and book summary’s when the manuscript nears completion. The final cover may not quite look like this, but it will probably be close.

The cover image is an excerpt from “Self portrait in a straw hat” by Elizabeth-Louise Vigee-Lebrun. She was a talented painter in late-18th century France. I actually found her self-portrait while researching opera singers for a cameo in Charlotte. The cover image could have been:

Her facial expression really invokes Charlotte’s naivety, and the fashion is correct for the time, but I think Ms. Vigee-LeBrun makes for a much more appealing image.

Another bit of draft text from Charlotte

This doesn’t give any spoilers away. 

7. More Doings in Bath

Freddy may have entered the upper assembly rooms with his sister, but he didn’t have to dance with her. They arrived early in the evening, but not too early to catch Charlotte dancing with her new friend, Mr. Christie. Freddy dryly commented to Elizabeth, “I see Miss DeVere has found a friend.”
“That’s Mr. Christie, Mrs. Jones’ younger brother.”
“Indeed.”
“What’s the problem, Freddy?”
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t care who she dances with, should I?”
“It’s not as if you and her are the best of friends, is it?”
“No. Well not yet.”
The set ended and Charlotte found Elizabeth. “Lizzy, I’m so glad you,” she paused, suddenly shy and unsure of what to say, “and your brother could make it.”
“I said I’d be here, so here I am.”
Freddy asked Charlotte, “Have you heard any more music that you liked?”
“Not since the concert two nights ago. I try to avoid listening to the ballad singers in the street. They’re vulgar and worse they usually can’t hold the tune.”
“How true, I was thinking of dance music.”
“Dance music?”
“Would you do me the honor of the next set?”
Charlotte blushed, then shyly replied, “If you would like.”
“I would, if just to show you that we can dance in perfect civility.”
“Oh please forget that time Mr. Oswith. I was not at my best, and, well,” she paused, considering how to delicately imply apology without apologizing, “I didn’t know you so well then.”
“The couples are forming, please come and join the line with me.”
Elizabeth added her voice to her brothers, “Do go, while we stand here stupidly talking, I can’t look for a partner myself.”
Elizabeth didn’t have to look for long. Mr. Christie came up and asked if he might have the pleasure of the next set. She replied that it would be her pleasure. He continued and asked her, “How close are you and Mr. Oswith?”
“Very.”
“I was wondering if.”
“I hope you’re not asking me to find you a position with his firm. Because if that’s so, our conversation is over.”
Mr. Christie stammered, “N-n-no. I was wondering if you would care for a glass of punch while we wait for the set to finish.”
“Thank you, let’s.”
Early the next morning, Freddy as he warned, left Bath to attend to business issues. Elizabeth felt a bit downhearted at seeing him go, but decided she would look for her friends. Though she wouldn’t look immediately as they were usually much later at rising than she was.
While Dr. Answorth was consuming his prescribed morning dose of the hot sulfurous brew dispensed in the pump room, Miss DeVere and Mrs. Answorth were introduced to a distinguished looking woman of an uncertain age. She wore fine clothes, was heavily powdered with rouged cheeks and wore a colored wig over her close cropped gray hair. The woman began,“Why Mrs. Answorth, what brings you to Bath?”
Seeing that Mrs. Answorth did not quite recognize her, she continued, “It seems so long since we met, but it was only last year. Have you been keeping well? No don’t answer for I can see that you have.”
Mrs. Answorth searched her memory and put a name to the face. “Are you Carol? Lady Chalfield?”
“The same.”
“It has been a long time since we last met. You should visit us more often, Chalfield isn’t far from Staverton. What brings you to Bath?”
“The waters, and the company. London is so gauche nowadays. I don’t know why I spend so much time there.”
“My husband, Dr. Answorth is here for his gout.” She pointed to Dr. Answorth as he grimaced and tried to swallow more of the water. The doctors at the Rheumatic hospital kept that part of his regime, stopped the long hot baths, discontinued the dose of rhubarb ater, and gave him a very small amount of a tincture of the autumn crocus, a novel treatment from Vienna. It seemed to be working.
“Is that so? Mine has long since departed to meet his maker. I suppose that is why I spend so much time on diversions in London.”
Mrs. Answorth remembered Lady Chalfield as a flighty young woman who lived a life dedicated to amusement and pleasure. Both her and her husband especially enjoyed the pleasure of gambling. She replied, “Diversions? Surely by now you have begun to settle down, to reflect on life.”
“I still feel the need for entertainment, it helps the time pass. Otherwise, life would be so tedious and dreary. Who is this beautiful young lass that you have attending you?”
“Miss Charlotte DeVere, Lord Staverton’s daughter. She has been kindly lending us her continence.”
Lady Chalfield immediately attached herself to Miss DeVere with an inspired devotion. Her devotion was inspired by her fond remembrances of Lord Staverton. He was a sure mark for a sucker-bet, and remarkably generous when he was in funds. She hoped his daughter was a similarly inclined. One way for her to find out was to talk with Charlotte and see if she had a similar combination of soft head and warm heart.
“Miss DeVere, I knew your father and mother. Back in the ’90’s.”
“Really? I barely remember my mother. She died when I was not long out of leading strings. You must tell me about her.”
“She was one of my best friends. Both she and your father.”
Charlotte’s naive response played right into Lady Chalfield’s wishes. “What did you do together?”
“We went to parties, at homes, rode in Hyde park, all the thing’s society does in London.”
“I’ve never been to London, I’d like to see the sights. See where they lived.”
“Miss DeVere, next week I am headed to London. Would you like accompany me? You can stay in my town house.”
“I would love to, but I should ask my companions, Dr. and Mrs. Answorth.”
Elizabeth came into the pump room in search of Charlotte. “Miss DeVere, I hoped I would find you here. Would you like to ride up Claverton Down this afternoon, maybe a bit beyond if we have the time?”
Charlotte introduced her friend to Lady Chalfield. “Lady Chalfield, this is Miss Elizabeth Oswith.”
The two women coldly examined each other. Lady Chalfield, because she knew that any of the Oswiths was a difficult nut to crack, and Elizabeth because Lady Chalfield plainly bore all the hallmarks of an adventuress. She had met more than enough of them in London for her tastes, and found it highly unpleasant to run into one in Bath. Lady Chalfield was the first to speak. “Miss Oswith, I was just telling your friend that I knew her parents, and invited her to stay in London with me next week.”
“Really, have you met mine?”
“Maybe, but I don’t mix in social circles that are below my rank.”
Elizabeth gave her an ambiguous response, “Neither do I.”
Charlotte replied to Elizabeth, “I’d love to come riding with you.” Then she asked Lady Chalfield, “Did you wish for my company this afternoon?”
Lady Chalfield replied, “Go ride with your friend, my pretty one. There is plenty of time to arrange our trip later. There is so much I should discuss with my old friend Mrs. Answorth.”
Riding together up the Claverton Down with Elizabeth’s groom discretely in tow, Charlotte turned to Elizabeth and asked her, “Lizzy, I had the impression that you were not overjoyed to meet Lady Chalfield. Why is that?”
“Nothing I can say directly, with those manners, that dress and that horrible wig she doesn’t move in the first circles of London society, at least not the parts of those circles I inhabit.”
“You move in the first circles?”
Elizabeth blushed, “Well, Charlotte, I think I do, or at least as much as I want to.”
“As much as you want? Why wouldn’t you want to do?”
“I don’t gamble, at least not for real stakes in a gambling hell. When I’m there, Freddy and I get invited to so many balls and ‘at homes’, that I have to turn some down.”
“Turn down an invitation?”
“It’s either that or be very rude and just show up for a few minutes, then leave.”
“I do wish I could persuade Lady Chalfield to invite you to come with me.”
“You can try, but I doubt you’ll succeed.”
“Oh, but you were so helpful here in Bath, and London is ever so much bigger. I’d be lost without a friend.”
They looked out over Bath from the top of the down. Elizabeth replied, “There is nowhere near London where you get such a good view of the city this view of Bath. Should we try a ride to Farleigh Castle?”
Her groom coughed, “Ma’am it’s a three hour ride from here.”
“Darn. That is too far. Is there anywhere closer? I am so enjoying this ride. It’s much too soon to return to Bath.”
“Monkton Coombe is not too far Ma’am. We could return by Warminster Road.”
“That’s on the canal, isn’t it?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Charlottte are you game for it?”
“I’ve been so idle these last few weeks that any ride will do.”
“Then Monkton Coombe it is.”
They worked their way down the other side of the down to the small town of Monkton Coombe and the Somerset Coal Canal. Charlotte was surprised at the level of traffic.
“Good Lord Elizabeth! It is so busy.”
“It is, isn’t it.”
The followed the towpath towards the junction with the Kennet and Avon. Part of the way there, Charlotte suddenly asked Elizabeth, “Lizzy, have you ever been in love?”
“Where did that question come from?”
“I don’t know, it’s just, well I don’t know what it feels like, and since you seem to know so much, maybe you’d know.”
“Charlotte how old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“I’m only twenty. So why do you keep making me feel like an ancient crone?”
“Lizzy, you’ve done so much more than I have. So what’s it like to be in love?”
“I don’t know. I once thought I was in love with one of Freddy’s friends. He visited while he was in college. Freddy in college, that is, his friend was in the army. I doubt he even looked at me. I was a gangling young girl at the time. Still, I wonder about him from time to time.”
“So you still think about him?”
“Not often and only when I’m in the dumps. Anyway he’s either a casualty in Spain or happily married by now. I’m sure when I really fall in love, my fantasies about him will evaporate like the morning dew.”
“I don’t know. I’ve met many men in the last few weeks, but somehow they just don’t make an impression. Not even a bad impression like Freddy.”
“Now you’re being silly, Charlotte. If you expect to meet the love of your life during a few weeks in Bath, I think you will be disappointed.”
“I don’t know. It’s just I keep thinking about your annoying brother. Why can’t I get him out of my thoughts?”
“Don’t ask me about that. I can’t get away from him either.”
“But you’re his sister. Why would you want to get away from him?”
“Didn’t you ever want to get away from, what was it, John?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t as nice to me as Freddy seems to be to you.”
“Well Freddy is special, but then I’m his little sister.”
“The thing is Lizzy, he isn’t always annoying. He hasn’t been lately. I don’t understand it.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
They reached the junction of the two canals, and much to their surprise there was a party of men examining the aqueduct and locks at the junction. One of them was Freddy.
Elizabeth shouted, “Freddy! What are you doing here? I thought you were headed for London.”
He walked over and greeted them. “I was, but first I’m inspecting one of father’s special investments, from his ‘canal mania’ period.”
“What’s wrong with canals?”
“Not much is wrong, but it’s not right either. It’s making a decent return for now, but I don’t think it’s a good long term solution to moving goods. We’ve put too much capital into it, so now the question is how to get some of our money out without crashing the company.”
Charlotte quietly watched as Elizabeth queried her brother. They spoke as equals, analyzing a problem and listening to each other about their ideas.
“What’s the problem with it?”
“High maintenance costs, and the damp.”
“The damp?”
“Everything has to float. Just try keeping your grain dry in one of these barges.”
“I see. Also, if everything is horse drawn.”
“You’re right Lizzy, it can’t go any faster than a wagon, and the canal just seems to eat horseflesh. It’s just too expensive to last.”
“So is there any alternative?”
“Stephenson, Trevithick. Steam engines and tramways.”
“Sounds risky.”
“It is. The trouble is doing nothing is even more risky.”
“That’s true, but will they use our ironworks?”
“Of course, initially it might make a loss, but it won’t be long before it becomes a very profitable endeavor. The canal itself uses steam pumps, and if we can improve those using Stephenson’s engines, we’ll be ahead too.”
Elizabeth remembered her manners. “Freddy, Charlotte and I were riding on the downs. We’ll return to Bath presently. Would you or your party care to dine with us this evening?”
Freddy finally seemed to notice Charlotte, but unfortunately he had to reply, “I’m sorry Miss DeVerre, I’m due to take the next boat back to Reading. I’ll probably be dining, if you can call it that, in a canal-side pub at Chippingham, if not Devizes or some other such damned place.”
Charlotte wondered why, despite her nominal antipathy to this bounder, it was a disappointment that he wouldn’t be dinning with them. “I’m truly sorry to hear that Mr. Oswith. I’m planning to visit London in a week or so, could we dine then?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
The two women bid Freddy adieu and headed back to Bath.
As they approached the town, Charlotte asked Elizabeth, “Lizzy, is it my imagining or did your brother seem more tired, almost worn down and drawn than when we met in Staverton?”
“I think he is. The weight of responsibility is on his shoulders now and it shows.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Can be. Father used to get exhausted with it. Charlotte I’ve just had an idea. How about I post down to London next week? Mr. Netherfield is due back by then, so I’ll be free. In any case Mr. Jones is ready to be in charge for a few days without me looking over his shoulder. You and Lady Chal-what’sit can ride with me. That way I can surprise Freddy and cheer him up. You’re welcome to stay with us, if you want.”
Charlotte looked dubious, “I’m not sure Lady Chalfield will accept your offer.”
“Want to bet?”
“You don’t gamble.”
“Except on sure things. She’ll hem and haw about it, but in the end a free ride in a luxurious post chase is something she won’t care to miss.”
“I thought you and your family always rode the mail?”
“Freddy does, but then he likes it.”
“Really, Lizzy? I’ve never done it, but John did. He said it was awful, full of common folk and the smells that came with them. Very leveling.”
“I expect Freddy does it to show his employees he will do anything he asks them to do. Besides, we’re dreadfully common folk too.”
“I thought you said you moved in the first circles?”
Elizabeth laughed, “It’s amazing what having money will do.”
“Lizzy!”
“Remember I once told you that I was only accepted as a wealthy heiress?”
“Yes, but that was long ago.”
“Only seems it. One reason I’ve not ‘fallen in love’ is almost all the men I meet seem more interested in my fortune than me.”
“Lizzy, that cannot be true. You’re just being cynical.”
“No, realistic. I’m sure someday I’ll meet someone who doesn’t care about my blunt. But then they’d be out of their right mind and I could never marry someone who is out of his right mind.”

Beta Readers

Charlotte is rapidly approaching completion. It has a complete story arc, but still needs filing out. Can’t post more excerpts because it would spoil the plot. If you’re interested in helping me by being a beta reader, drop me a line at amelia.treader<at>gmail.com.

More Field Research

Had a chance to do more field research. The natives were somewhat interested in what we were up to.

It was climbing “sugar loaf” near Abergevnny in Wales. The cycling festival meant we had a few traffic detours diversions, but it wasn’t a hard drive.

This view from the top shows the Severn in the distance.

Charlotte in London (Draft)

Charlotte’s first visit to a faro house and an opera in London. I’ve changed Lady Maplerod to Lady Bellingham.

Charlotte is beginning to warm to Freddy.  The manuscript is just over 30,000 words, and I have a few more twists in the plot to implement.

Charlotte’s experience was somewhat different. Lady Bellingham immediately retired to recover from the exigencies of the journey leaving her guest hungry and confused. There were only a few servants, ill-dressed and surly. They were not inclined to help her either with her luggage or her dinner. As dusk firmly settled in the evening, Lady Bellingham arose from her slumbers, chased up Charlotte and proposed a journey to one her favorite hells.
Saying, “Lady Luttrel’s house parties are always good for a little flutter and they’ll give us dinner,” She bore Charlotte off on her first visit to a gambling or faro house.
Faro is a relatively simple game to play, and an easy one for a card sharp and his confederates to control. The punters place bets on which card will be turned up from a deck. Pairs of cards are turned, the first looses, the second wins. The dealer and his chums can know exactly which card will be dealt when by using a little misdirection and slight of hand in the shuffle, or if brazen enough gain advantage with a slightly marked or a ‘stripped’ deck. They can lure the muggins into placing successively larger bets, then wipe him or her out. High class and honest gambling dens would never use such techniques. Lady Luttrel’s parties were neither high class nor honest.
Charlotte found herself at the faro table. She naively asked, “How do I play this game?”
Lady Bellington explained the rules, “You place your money on one of the cards on the table, like so.” She put a few guineas on number seven. “It’s my lucky number.” Then the dealer dealt two cards. The second was a seven. “You see.” She took her winnings. “Now why don’t you try it?’
Charlotte asked, “Is that all?”
“Well, you can bet against a card by putting a copper on top of your bet.”
“So if I thought the next card wouldn’t be a seven I’d put a copper on my guinea?”
“No quite, that’s if you’d expect the first card to be a seven.”
“Oh. I think I’ve got it.”
“Good, would you care for some Champagne?”
By the end of the first night a decidedly tipsy Charlotte returned home with Lady Bellington a couple hundred pounds to the plus side. The cards just seemed to be going her way.
The next morning Charlotte could barely contain her excitement. Early in the morning, that is to say while it was still morning, and before Lady Bellingham even stirred in her sleep, Charlotte rushed out to find the Oswith’s house on Portman street.
“Lizzy,” she excitedly began after threading the maze of doorman, butler and parlors, “I went to Lady Luttrel’s faro house last night. Look what I won.”
“I see. Charlotte, you know they’re just luring you in. You won’t win that much again.”
“It was so fun. You really need to go. Food, wine, even some music, and gambling.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. You should come sometime.”
“Maybe.” Elizabeth searched her mind for any diversion that could steer her friend from the dangerous waters she was heading into. The idea she found revealed the depth of her friendship. Even though she was profoundly tone deaf and found the high screeching sopranos painful, she asked, “There’s an opera performance at the King’s Theatre in Haymarket tonight. I’d much like to see it, would you come?”
“Which opera?”
“I don’t remember, I think it’s”
Freddy knocked on the door, “Adelasia e Aleramo, in Italian by Simone .” Elizabeth gave a sigh of relief. “At least, that’s what I remember, either that or ‘Boadicea Queen of the Iceni’ by Pucitta. They’re both worth a hearing.”
“Mr. Oswith, what are you doing here?”
“I live here. Lizzy and I were up late talking last night, so I’m on the late side for the city. Would you like me to pick up tickets?”
Charlotte thought, then politely replied, “If you could? I’ve long wanted to see a real opera. But Lady Bellingham will be disappointed, she wanted me to visit Lady Luttrels again.”
“Some other time. She can wait a day or so.”
Lady Bellingham was initially disappointed, but realized that giving her guest time to build anticipation for her next visit to the faro house, would simply make the plucking easier, gave her reluctant assent to Charlotte’s visit to the opera.
Charlotte found the opera, which was actually Puccitta’s Aristodemo, entrancing. The box Freddy rented a quarter the way around from the stage and halfway up the row of boxes gave her a fine view of the action, clear sound, and a chance to look with wide eyes at the cream of London society. At intermission she turned to him and said, “Mr. Oswith, Thank you so much for getting the tickets. I don’t deserve this after all the things I said to you.”
“I know, but Lizzy wanted to see the opera, and it would be boring to attend with only one’s sister.”
“Now you are being silly, aren’t you?”
“A little, but I’m truly pleased that you don’t see me as such an ogre.”
“Lizzy, wasn’t that divine music.”
“If you say so.”
“Didn’t you like it?”
“It was alright, for Italian opera.” Charlotte shot a glance at Mr. Oswith. He whispered in her ear, “Lizzy is a bit deaf, she doesn’t really appreciate music.”
Charlotte blushed, then hugged her friend, “Lizzy, I didn’t know you weren’t keen on opera. Thank you so much for suggesting it.”
“I come for the society, endure the noise. It’s a fair swap.”
The conductor strode into the orchestra pit and the agony for Elizabeth, or ecstasy for Charlotte began again.

Field Research

Over in the UK, near Bristol. Doing a bit of field research to capture the locale. That and enjoying the often underrated native cuisine.

Avebury

The view from Hackpen hill. Avebury is behind the hill. In the distance is Cherhill hill. The Bath road runs through there, at this scale largely unchanged. In Cherhill, there is the Black Horse, which was supposedly a gathering point for highwaymen. I have my doubts, though, as the pub is right on the A4 which means it wouldn’t have been a very good hideout.

 The farmhouse at Wickwar woods at sunset.

Corn, Crime and Piety

Just doing some background reading while on a trip. I realized that there are a few things that need to be brought out for Charlotte.

  • Corn Laws. The book is partially set in rural England in 1814-1815. The rents farmers paid were very high, but the prices they could get for their corn (wheat and oats, not maize) were very low. Except when the had a crop failure, and then they had nothing to sell. The corn laws were an early attempt at price supports, where the price of corn was set. Unfortunately this meant that the price of bread was set too high for most people to afford it. Unlike pre-revolutionary France, Parliament didn’t tell the commoners to eat brioche instead. None the less the bill, the riots and the rents would be a major concern.
  • Crime. Nothing like modern police, a system of unpaid appointed magistrates, and a plethora of homeless beggars. Unlike today, where it would be relatively safe to wander around London in the evening, you might have been taking your life in your hands. Highwaymen were reasonably common, and people would have been careful about them. However, without sensational 24/7 TV news, I get the distinct impression people weren’t scared all the time.
  • Piety. Hannah More and the evangelicals opened and encouraged the opening of many schools for the indigent and poor. One of the characters in the book is thinking of doing the same thing, and frequently has pious impulses that could have been influenced by her. Like today’s evangelicals, at least in the US, Ms. More was against teaching science and mathematics. Instead she wanted to teach just enough reading that her students could read the bible and learn to be content with their place in society. I can’t see this character accepting that idea as he’s a ‘self-made’ man, more along the lines of Horatio Alger than a full acolyte of Hannah’s.

On the road from Bath to London.

Oddly I haven’t forgotten about Simon and Katherine, and they’ve been insisting that I get back to their story. I’ve written a bit more of it, but not enough to share (yet). That said, here’s a bit more (draft) copy from Charlotte.
Charlotte and Elizabeth are riding from Bath to London, in the company of the rather shady Lady Maplerod, and run into a few complications on the way.

 

 

To London.

Elizabeth’s predictions about Lady Maplerod and the chance of a free ride were spot on. She hemed and hawed, claimed she didn’t want to be a burden, but quickly acquiesced to the idea of taking a seat in the Oswith carriage. The Answorths were pleased as well, while they couldn’t put their finger on the reason, something about their erstwhile neighbor bothered them. Having a steady young female like Miss Oswith near their friend was reassuring.
The post chaise Elizabeth hired left Bath for London early in the morning. Not as early as Elizabeth wished, but earlier than either Lady Maplerod or Charlotte would normally rise in the morning. Naturally this lead to a certain amount of matutinal silence. They took the Bath road through Chippenham, Marlborough and Newbury. In Newbury the Bath road changed to the London road and Charlotte asked if anyone else was perhaps a little in need of refreshment. Elizabeth took the hint and asked the driver to stop at the next respectable pub. Lady Maplerod was visibly distressed, “Could we move on?”
“Why?”
“This place has unfortunate associations, poor Lord Maplerod took ill in Newbury.”
Elizabeth innocently inquired, “On a race day, perhaps?”
Lady Maplerod gave her a hard stare, “No, of course not.”
“If you say so. Driver, can you drive on?”
The driver pointed out that they had to change horses at the next post house and were stopping no matter what. He was not about to lame his horses simply to satisfy a woman’s whim.
Charlotte smiled at her friends, “So I guess we’re stopping after all, LIzzy.”
Lady Maplerod quickly left the coach and fled to a table in the back of the house, while Charlotte and Elizabeth followed at a more leisurely pace. “LIzzy, why was Lady Maplerod so worried?”
“Probably she made a bad bet at the races, owes some money to a bookie, and left town in a hurry to avoid payment.”
“LIzzy!”
“Of course I could be wrong about it. It’s just I tend to be cynical about people, especially when there’s money involved.”
Elizabeth wasn’t wrong. A rather large and somewhat greasy and ill-dressed man had cornered Lady Maplerod in the back of the room. He was loudly demanding that she settle her debts with him, now.
“I’m sorry who are you?”
“Gentleman Jack, the bookie. Now my fine lady, will you settle your account, or do I call the bailiffs?”
“I- I-” she stammered, desperate to find a way to avoid paying or, worse still, being trotted off to debtor’s prison. Seeing Elizabeth, she threw one last desperate toss of the die. “Miss Oswith, I seem to have mislaid my pocketbook. Can you help me settle with this individual?”
Charlotte was dismayed to see her friend in a difficult situation. Elizabeth was amused by it. “You know Lady Maplerod, my brother told me never to loan money without collateral.” A hard, ugly expression flickered on Lady Maplerod’s face, then she was sweetness itself. “Of course, my dear. It’s not a loan, I’m temporarily a bit short. I left my money in the luggage.”
‘Gentleman’ Jack growled, “There’s plenty of time to retrieve it.” Elizabeth thought quickly, while she would prefer to remove Charlotte from the company of this old leech, she was acutely aware that exposing Lady Maplerod and causing a fuss could have more bad effects than good. Especially if it led to difficulties with the Answorths or Charlotte.
“How much is the debt?”
Gentleman Jack studied Elizabeth with a measuring eye, he liked what he saw and recognized a lady of means. “Miss, this old croaker ain’t worth it.”
“How much?”
“Fifty pounds.”
Elizabeth gasped in pretend amazement, “Why Lady Maplerod, I’m shocked that you wouldn’t carry such small change with you. Especially on a journey like this where there are bound to be expenses.” Charlotte’s expression was puzzled, and she asked, “Lizzy, are you making fun of Lady Maplerod?”
Lady Maplerod, desperately suggested to Elizabeth, “I’ll pledge my necklace to you, it’s worth at least ten times that.”
“Paste, most likely.” Gentleman Jack unhelpfully interjected. Elizabeth had already noticed that the diamonds lacked brilliance and the silver mountings were unusually tinny. She replied, “Undoubtedly and not very good paste at that.” Elizabeth thought about leaving Lady Maplerod to dangle in the basket, but the driver of the chase came in and said the horses were nearly ready. “Charlotte, why don’t you go purchase some food? I’ll settle with these two.”
After Charlotte slipped off, Elizabeth pointedly told Lady Maplerod. “Ma’am, Miss DeVere is a bit naive, a sweet little bird unused to the ways of the world, I’m not. Please remember that she is my friend, and my family looks after its friends. Understand?” Lady Maplerod, aghast at such blunt, almost threatening, language from someone she assumed was a refined gentlewoman, nodded. Elizabeth pulled a sheet of paper from her reticule, and drew up a repayment contract. She abruptly commanded Lady Maplerod, “Sign this. Here.”
Once that was complete, she paid Gentleman Jack. “Thank your Miss, but you know that vowel is only scrap paper to her kind.”
“I know, but I have a few friends who are good at getting my debtors to pay up.”
“As good as me?”
“You’d be surprised. You’ve heard of the Kennet County Bank?” // needs a better name here.
“Yes. They financed the canal. It helps bring in the punters.”
“That’s us.”
He turned to Lady Maplerod and grinned, “You’d best pay that vowel, Milady. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His gap-toothed smile only added to the menace of his suggestion.
He then thanked Elizabeth and left.
Reinstated in the chase, Charlotte’s needs relieved, Elizabeth amused and Lady Maplerod exhausted from the day’s struggle, they continued with a change of horses at Calcott Green outside of Reading to London.

Some more draft writing.

More draft manuscript. This fits in before the last post and describes the developing relationship between Elizabeth and Charlotte. The manuscript is just about 20,000 words.

SKIPPING ABOUT 2 CHAPTERS.
// Elizabeth and Charlotte have largely buried the hatchet by now. Charlotte isn’t sure about the rest of the Oswiths, especially Freddy. But Elizabeth is a good friend.
// Freddy is already in London, having argued, if it rose to that, with Charlotte. Elizabeth will go join him when Charlotte goes there. He always is on her wrong side. Somehow this bothers him. He’s not sure why.
// Freddy will be surprised, pleasantly when Elizabeth shows up.
While Dr. Answorth was consuming his prescribed morning dose of the hot sulfurous brew dispensed in the pump room, Miss DeVere and Mrs. Answorth were introduced to a distinguished looking woman of an uncertain age. She wore fine clothes, was heavily powdered and wore a colored wig over her close cropped gray hair. The woman began,“Why Mrs. Answorth, what brings you to Bath?”
Seeing that Mrs. Answorth did not quite recognize her, she continued, “It seems so long since we met, but it was only last year. Have you been keeping well? No don’t answer for I can see that you have.”
Mrs. Answorth searched her memory and put a name to the face. “Are you Carol? Lady Maplerod?”
“The same.”
“It has been a long time since we last met. You should visit us more often, Maplerod isn’t far from Staverton. What brings you to Bath?”
“The waters, and the company. London is so gauche nowadays. I don’t know why I spend so much time there.”
“My husband, Dr. Answorth is here for his gout.” She pointed to Dr. Answorth as he grimaced and tried to swallow more of the water.
“Is that so? Mine has long since departed to meet his maker. I suppose that is why I spend so much time on diversions in London.”
Mrs. Answorth remembered Lady Maplerod as a flighty young woman, and replied, “Diversions? Surely by now you have begun to settle down, to reflect on life.”
“I still feel the need for entertainment, it helps the time pass. Otherwise life would be so tedious and dreary. Who is this beautiful young lass that you have attending you?”
“Miss Charlotte DeVere, Lord Staverton’s daughter. She has been kindly lending us her continence.”
Lady Maplerod immediately attached herself to Miss DeVere with an inspired devotion. Her devotion was inspired by her fond remembrances of Lord Staverton. He was a sure mark for a sucker-bet, and remarkably generous when he was in funds. She hoped his daughter was a similarly inclined. There was one way for her to find out so she talked to Charlotte.
“Miss DeVere, I knew your father and mother. Back in the ’90’s.”
“Really? I barely remember my mother. She died when I was not long out of leading strings. You must tell me about her.”
“She was one of my best friends. Both she and your father.”
Charlotte’s naive response played right into Lady Maplerod’s wishes. “What did you do together? I’ve never been to London, I’d like to see the sights. See where they lived.”
“Miss DeVere, next week I am headed to London. Would you like accompany me? You can stay in my town house.”
“I would love to, but I should ask my companions, Dr. and Mrs. Answorth.”
Elizabeth came into the pump room in search of Charlotte. “Miss DeVere, I hoped I would find you here. Would you like to ride up Claverton Down this afternoon, maybe a bit beyond if we have the time?”
Charlotte introduced her friend to Lady Malperod. “Lady Maplerod, this is Miss Elizabeth Oswith.”
The two women coldly examined each other. Lady Maplerod, because she knew that the Oswiths were a difficult nut to crack, and Elizabeth because Lady Maplerod plainly bore all the hallmarks of an adventuress. She had seen enough of them in London for her tastes. Lady Maplerod was the first to speak. “Miss Oswith, I was just telling your friend that I knew her parents, and invited her to stay in London with me next week.”
“Really, have you met mine?”
“Maybe, but I don’t mix in social circles that are below my rank.”
Elizabeth gave her an ambiguous response, “Neither do I.”
Charlotte replied to Elizabeth, “I’d love to come riding with you. Lady Maplerod did you wish for my company?”
Lady Maplerod replied, “Go ride with your friend, my pretty one. There is plenty of time to arrange our trip later. There is so much I should discuss with my old friend Mrs. Answorth.”

Riding together up the Claverton Down with Elizabeth’s groom discretely in tow, Charlotte turned to Elizabeth and asked her, “Lizzie, I had the impression that you were not overjoyed to meet Lady Maplerod. Why is that?”
“Nothing I can say directly, with those manners, that dress and that horrible wig she doesn’t move in the first circles of London society, at least not the parts of those circle I inhabit.”
“You move in the first circles?”
Elizabeth blushed, “Well, Charlotte, I think I do, or at least as much as I want to.”
“As much as you want? What wouldn’t you want to do?”
“I don’t gamble, at least not for real stakes in a gambling hell. When I’m there, Freddy and I get invited to so many balls, that I have to turn some down.”
“Turn down an invitation?”
“It’s either that or be very rude and just show up for a few minutes, then leave.”
“I do wish I could persuade Lady Maplerod to invite you to come with me.”
“You can try, but I doubt you’ll succeed.”
“Oh, but you were so helpful here in Bath, and London is ever so much bigger. I’d be lost without a friend.”
They looked out over Bath from the top of the down. Elizabeth replied, “You don’t get such a good view of the city. Should we try a ride to Farely Castle?”
Her groom coughed, “Ma’am it’s a three hour ride from here.”
“Darn. That is too far. Is there anywhere closer? I am so enjoying this ride. It’s far too soon to return to Bath.”
“Monkton Coombe is not too far Ma’am. We could return by Warminster Road.”
“That’s on the canal, isn’t it?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Charlottte are you game for it?”
“I’ve been so idle these last few weeks that any ride will do.”
“Then Monkton Coombe it is.”
They worked their way down the other side of the down to the small town of Monkton Coombe and the Somerset Coal Canal. Charlotte was surprised at the level of traffic.
“Good Lord Lizzie, it is so busy.”
“It is, isn’t it.”
The followed the towpath towards the junction with the Kennet and Avon. Part of the way there, Charlotte suddenly asked Elizabeth, “Lizzie, have you ever been in love?”
“Where did that question come from?”
“I don’t know, it’s just, well I don’t know what it feels like, and since you seem to know so much, maybe you’d know.”
“Charlotte how old are you?”
“Twenty three.”
“I’m only twenty two. So why do you keep making me feel like an ancient crone?”
“Lizzie, you’ve done so much more than I have. So what’s it like to be in love?”
“I don’t know. I once thought I was in love with one of Freddy’s friends. He visited while he was in college. Freddy in college, that is, his friend was in the army. I doubt he even looked at me. I was a gangly young girl at the time. Still I wonder from time to time.”
“So you think about him?”
“Not often, anyway he’s either a casualty in Spain or happily married by now. I’m sure when I really fall in love, my fantasies about him will evaporate like the dew.”
“I don’t know. I’ve met many men in the last few weeks, but somehow they just don’t make an impression. Not even a bad impression like Freddy.”
“Now you’re being silly, Charlotte. If you expect to meet the love of your life during a few weeks in Bath, I think you will be disappointed.”
“I don’t know. It’s just I keep thinking about your annoying brother. Why can’t I get him out of my thoughts?”
“Don’t ask me about that. I can’t get away from him either.”
“But you’re his sister. Why would you want to get away from him?”
“Didn’t you ever want to get away from, what was it, John?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t as nice to me as Freddy seems to be to you.”
They reached the junction of the two canals, and much to their surprise there was a party of men examining the aqueduct and the locks around it. One of them was Freddy.
Elizabeth shouted, “Freddy! What are you doing here?”
He walked over and greeted them. “Inspecting one of father’s special investments.”
“What is it this time?”
“This damned canal. It’s making a decent return for now, but I don’t think it’s a good long term solution to moving goods. We’ve put too much capital into it, so now the question is how to get some of our money out without crashing the company.”
Charlotte quietly watched as Elizabeth queried her brother.
“What’s the problem with it?”
“High maintenance costs, and the damp.”
“The damp?”
“Everything has to float. Just try keeping your grain dry in one of these barges.”
“I see. Also, if everything is horse drawn.”
“You’re right Lizzie, it can’t go any faster than a wagon, and the horses themselves will wear out. It’s just too expensive to last.”
“So is there any alternative?”
“Stephenson, Trevithick. Steam engines.”
“Sounds risky.”
“It is. The trouble is doing nothing is even more risky.”
Elizabeth remembered her manners. “Freddy, Charlotte and I were riding on the downs. We’ll return to Bath presently. Would you or your party care to dine with us this evening?”
Freddy finally seemed to notice Charlotte, but unfortunately he had to reply, “I’m sorry Miss DeVerre, I’m due to take the next boat back to Reading. I’ll probably be dining, if you can call it that, in a canal-side pub at Chippingham, if not Devizes or some other such damned place.”
Charlotte wondered why, despite her nominal antipathy to this bounder, it was a disappointment that he wouldn’t be dinning with them. “I’m truly sorry to hear that Mr. Oswith. I’m planning to visit London in a week or so, could we dine then?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
The two women bid Freddy adieu and headed back to Bath.
As they approached the town, Charlotte asked Elizabeth, “Lizzie, is it my imaginings or did your brother seem more tired, almost worn down and drawn than when we last met?”
“I think he is. The weight of responsibility is on his shoulders now and it shows.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Can be. Charlotte I’ve just had an idea. How about I post down to London next week? You and Lady Maple-what’sit can ride with me. That way I can surprise Freddy and cheer him up. You’re welcome to stay with us, if you want.”
Charlotte looked dubious, “I’m not sure Lady Maplerod will accept your offer.”
“Want to bet?”
“You don’t gamble.”
“Except on sure things. She’ll hem and haw about it, but in the end a free ride in a luxurious post chase is something she won’t miss.”
“I thought you and your family always rode the mail?”
“Freddy does, but he likes it.”
“Really, Lizzie? I’ve never done it, but John did. He said it was awful, full of common folk and smells. Very leveling.”
“I expect he does it to show his employees he will do anything he asks them to do. Besides, we’re common folk too.”
“I thought you said you moved in the first circles?”
Elizabeth laughed, “It’s amazing what money will do.”
“Lizzie!”
“Remember I once told you that I was only accepted as a wealthy heiress?”
“Yes, but that was long ago.”
“Only seems it. One reason I’ve not ‘fallen in love’ is most of the men seem more interested in my cash than me.”
“That cannot be true.”

Nonlinear writing

Sometimes the best way to write is to work ahead. It can get you out of writer’s block, and develop the characters. You do have to go back and make sure what you write is supported in the earlier bits, but that’s usually not too hard.

This is from about the middle of the next book. Still a draft document. The lines that start with ‘//’ are comments.

By the way, a Lady Luttrel appears in one of Georgette Heyer’s books. This isn’t where mine comes from. There was a real Lady Luttrel who ran a ‘faro house’ and was prosecuted for it. A ‘Mr. Strot’ was prosecuted as well at the same time. While we’re at it ‘Gropecunt lane’ was a real place in London where ladies of easy and dubious virtue plied their wares.

Charlotte in the Suds.

// this is about halfway into the story. After Bath, Lady Maplerod (need a much better name) invites Charlotte to London. Elizabeth and Charlotte are sort of friendly but not as close as Elizabeth hoped.
// Maplerod takes Charlotte to the cleaners.
// Colonel Sam will probably a) complicate things by also falling for Charlotte or b) be a love interest for Elizabeth. (possibly appear to do a but do b).

Freddy rarely ventured into gambling hells, and it was only at the urging of his sister Lizzy that he accompanied her to Lady Luttrel’s house. “Freddy, I so much want to see one of these Faro houses.”
“Lizzy, I’d rather you not. The odds in the games are always rigged for the house, the wine is poor and the food vile. The company is tedious, ill-tempered, noisome and noisy at best.”
“So? Charlotte has told me so much about it. I thought just once wouldn’t be too awful. She said she would be at Lady Luttrel’s tonight.”
“I’m not going to make good your losses.”
“Freddy! I’m not going to gamble, at least not much, where’s the fun in that?”
In the end, they didn’t make it into the house. There sitting on the stoop, crying, was Miss DeVere.
Lizzy stopped and asked her, “Charlotte, what is it?”
“I’m completely rolled up. I’ve lost everything I had, no it’s worse than that. I owe as much again. There’s no way I can ever pay it, and Mr. Strot has hinted that maybe I can earn my keep down at Gropecunt lane.”
Lizzy was shocked at what her friend said, but somehow Freddy wasn’t. “Miss DeVere, look at me.”
Charlotte turned her tear-streaked face to him and looked up at his face. “Do you promise not to gamble again. I know it runs in your family, but can you promise?”
“Yes-s, I’ll promise anything.”
“I don’t want ‘anything’. I want you to do one thing in specific.”
“Yes. I won’t gamble again.”
“Good, I’m sorry Lizzy but you’re not visiting the hell this time. Please keep Charlotte company while I sort things out.”
“Freddy!”
“Mr. Oswith!”
He didn’t listen any of their objections but entered the hall. After he presented his card, Lady Luttrel greeted him as yet another fat pigeon fit for plucking. With the Oswiths, even detaching a couple of feathers was worth the game. “Mr. Oswith, how pleased I am to see you. May I show you to the faro table, or is piquet your game?”
Freddy rather rudely replied, “Neither. I understand Miss DeVere has some gambling losses that need to be paid. Can I see the books?”
Lady Luttrel put her nose in the air and assumed a patrician attitude, “Books? This is an affair of honor.”
Freddy, as usual when confronted by members of the tinsel aristocracy, was not impressed. “I fail to see the honor in skinning a young woman of her last savings.”
“What business is this of yours?”
“It’s mine because I make it mine. Miss DeVere is under my protection.”
“Why? She’s just another silly female.”
“Do you really think I’m a flat? Before I lay evidence,” at which words a pair of rather muscular and decidedly menacing gentlemen approached him on either side and momentarily interrupted his conversation. “I presume you keep track of your winnings somewhere. I need to see the records.”
“You bloody clerk, you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“If you don’t have records of her debt, then I’m leaving. If anyone menaces her, you will hear from a magistrate. I have more than one friend on the bench.”
The gentleman on his right moved between Freddy and Lady Luttrel and gathered his hands into fists. “Do you want some of this?” He stood there breathing heavily with his nostrils flaring in and out. He was prepared for a fight, and hoped to intimidate this young gentleman into striking first. The other moved behind him, ready to stop Freddy from returning any punches once the ‘fight’ started.
Freddy calmly looked at him with deep disdain. “Please. Physical violence will only add to the charges against you. I didn’t come alone.” The stand off continued for a few moments, when Freddy continued, “So Madam, what will it be? Do I see Miss DeVere’s vowels or do I talk to my friends at Old Bailey?”
“Bloody bastard!” Lady Luttrel nodded to her assistant. “Get Mr. Strot and tell that lazy bugger to bring the books.”
“Thank you.”
It only took a few moments in the end. Satisfied that the debt was properly totaled, he peeled a monkey from his billfold and handed it to Lady Luttrel. “I would like a receipt please. Miss DeVere will not be bothered about this again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, damn you.” Lady Luttrel stormed at her two muscular gentlemen. “Make sure that neither Miss DeVere nor this Mr. Oswith ever darkens my door again.”
“I assure you I have no intent of ever entering your,” he paused to show his distaste for the place, “house.”
With that he turned sharply and left. Once outside he addressed Lizzy and Miss DeVere, “Come, let us find a cab or a chair, and leave this verminous neighborhood.”
“Mr. Oswith?” Charlotte began to ask, “did you fix-”
“You debts. Yes.”
“How much do I owe you?”
Mr. Oswith refused to say. Instead he hailed a jarvey and bundled the two of them into it. He told the coachman to take the women to the house on Portman street. Miss DeVere objected to his high-handed treatment. “Mr. Oswith, I would like to go to my own place.”
“Where? You were staying with Lady Maplerod, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Charlotte pointed to the ‘faro house’, “In there.”
“Then you will go with Miss Oswith. Lizzy, have a footman send a message to the Maplerod residence when you arrive.”
Lizzy intently studied her brother’s face. While he could hide his emotions most of the time from most onlookers, she could still read them. She whispered to her brother, “Freddy, are you fine? There’s room in the cab for you.”
Freddy smiled at her, “Thank you, but I’ll walk. The exercise will do me well.”

It wasn’t until the two women had arrived back in the Oswith’s house at Portman square that Charlotte summoned the courage to ask Elizabeth something that had been bothering her, “Miss Oswith?”
“Yes.”
“Your brother, did he just settle my debts for me?”
“That’s what he said he did. He’s generally honest about things like that.”
“What does he expect me to do?”
“Nothing. It would be nice if you said thank you.”
“What do you mean by ‘nothing’?”
“Exactly that, nothing. He would probably dislike it intensely if you tried to repay him.”
“I don’t understand.”
Elizabeth studied her acquaintance, “You really don’t understand, do you? My father and Freddy, for that matter probably me as well, have a talent for business. It’s a blessing, much nicer being rich than poor, but it’s also a curse.”
“A curse?”
“Do you remember how Freddy dressed when we met?”
“What a lark, he was dressed up to the nines in the latest fashion. He almost looked silly”
“and now?”
“So sober. What of it, tastes change?”
“He dresses like that because of his responsibilities. He has to look serious if he wants to be treated seriously.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are many people who depend on him making the right decisions. If it were just us Oswiths, well, we have more than enough in the four-percents to live high for a long time. It’s just there are others who depend on the firm for their livelihoods. He can’t just leave them to starve.”
“But?”
“If you really want to repay him, help him to laugh. He needs relief from the difficulty of being the one man in charge.”
Charlotte stood there speechless. This way of looking at Mr. Oswith hadn’t occurred to her. He was always so stiff and distant, or at least had seemed so, almost from the day she met him.
Elizabeth continued, “It’s late and I doubt Lady Maplerod will be home before dawn. There are probably more pigeons for her to pluck. I’ll ask my maid to set up the spare bedroom for you.”
“More pigeons? I’m not a pigeon.”
Elizabeth laughed, “No, Charlotte, more of a silly goose. How did you think Lady Maplerod supports herself?”
“I thought by her inheritance, maybe from her estate, but you’re saying by gambling?”
“Not just gambling, but bringing young inexperienced ingénues to the table. It’s called ‘plucking a pigeon’. I’ve been told it’s very lucrative.”
“I’m confused.”
“You’re tired, it will seem clearer in the morning.” Elizabeth made good on her suggestion to find a bed for Miss DeVere. Then she returned to the front parlor await for her brother’s return. Mrs. Radcliffe’s latest would do to keep her occupied until he returned.
Freddy stopped off at White’s for a snifter. The other members considered him a bit of an odd stick, but good company just the same. One of his friends came over and suggested he join the game of Hazzard underway.
“Sorry, but I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t, it’s just chicken stakes.”
“Samuel, you know I’m a banker.”
“If you’re just a banker, I’m an ensign.” Colonel Samuel Travers was a well-respected officer in the Coldstream Guards.
“You know what I mean. It could leave the wrong impression if I play the tables.”
“Hmmn, I see. Have a point there. Pity though, you used to be dashed good at it.”
“But never for more than copper stakes.”
“True, I say, how about you advise me? I could use the help.”
The other men at the game suggested that he come and join them. Freddy sat down next to his friend and soon was immersed in calculating the odds and advising his friend.
It didn’t take long before they were cleaning the table. “Damn Freddy, it’s a good thing we’re playing for chicken stakes. You and Sam would be leaving us in damned low water.”
Freddy chuckled then stood, “Thank you Sam, gentlemen, I’d forgotten how much I missed your company. When you get run off your feet tomorrow, come see me. I always need some more clerks in my office.”
Freddy returned home in a much better mood than he left. As he pulled his latchkey from his pocket to open the door, one of the footmen opened it. “I thought I told you not to wait up for me, that Miss Oswith and I might be late?”
“Sir, Miss Oswith is waiting for you I the front parlor.”
Elizabeth immediately saw that her brother was in good spirits, “Freddy? What have you been up to?”
“Stopped in White’s and met up with some old friends. Do you remember Sam Travers?”
“Wasn’t he the one who joined up? A captain or something.”
“A colonel now. Still we had a nice chat, and I kept him from losing his stake at Hazard.”
“You gambled, after what you told Miss DeVere?”
“No, I advised him on the odds, though. Amazing how few of these fellows think those out in advance. It was only chicken stakes anyway.”
“I put our guest to bed.”
“I thought she was going to Lady Maplerod’s”
“That old harridan? You know she was setting up Miss DeVere to be plucked?”
“Very probably. She does that doesn’t she?”
“But?”
“It’s a bit rude to just skip out as a guest.”
“I’ll send her a message in the morning. Now that her pigeon is well plucked, I doubt she’ll want to keep her.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me, but Miss DeVere can’t stay here.”
“Why ever not? You won’t compromise her or anything stupid like that, and I’d like to get to know her better.”
“Lizzy, she detests us. What makes you think she would change her opinion?”
“I have my reasons.”

Early the next morning, barely before breakfast was started let alone the last cup of tea drunk and Freddy was off to the city to do whatever mysterious things he did, a footman entered the room and announced, “Mr. Oswith, you have a visitor.”
“This early?” Freddy looked at his sister who usually managed to rise early enough to see him off. She was dressed informally, in a morning gown, since it was far too early to be out and about the village. Miss DeVere blissfully slumbered on, unaware of the Oswith family’s unsocial hours. “Who is it and was it important?”
“It is a Colonel Travers, and he says it is confidential.”
“Nonsense, show him in, he’s an old friend.”
A few minutes later Travers entered. He stopped and staggered, there was a beautiful woman in the room.
“Sam, you remember my sister Lizzy?” He did, but the last time he met her she was a scrubby schoolgirl, all legs and arms, and here she a dashing and well-posed woman. She was smiling at him. It was unnerving. He stammered, “I s-s-ay Freddy, last night, when you said you had positions for clerk’s?”
“Yes?”
“Did you mean it?”
“What happened Sam?”
“This.” He held out a missive from his father. Freddy quickly read the letter. It was not good news.
Sam continued while Freddy read, “He put the family fortune into Barlow’s East Timor venture.”
Elizabeth had been listening during family dinners, “Oh, dear, he was a ‘Captain Sharp’, wasn’t he? I remember you and father refusing to have anything to do with him.”
“Yes, I’ll have to sell out, there isn’t enough to keep going as a Colonel.”
Elizabeth asked her brother, “Freddy, could we lend -”
“No,” Sam stopped her, “I don’t borrow from my friends, besides, Freddy always requires collateral.”
Freddy looked up from the letter. “Not always, but a loan won’t help you with this. Sam, I’ll see what I can salvage for you. Barlow’s venture didn’t completely collapse.”
“M’guvnor used the shares to back a mortgage on the family manse.”
“Oh, so you really are deep into the suds, aren’t you? I might be able to salvage a shilling on the pound, but that won’t be enough, will it?”
“I wasn’t joking when I asked about a clerk’s position.”
Elizabeth looked stricken, while Freddy was a generous employer, Colonel Travers would be hard pressed to live on a clerk’s salary. Freddy was thoughtful, then asked one important question, “Sam, before you were in the guards, weren’t you in an engineering battalion?”
“Yes, not so dashing, but a good place for a young soldier to start.”
“Remember any of it?”
“Why?”
“Come see me in the city this afternoon. I don’t think a clerkship is what you want.”