Woe for the Countess
Countess Elizabeth Neville was
growing increasingly infuriated at her nephew Reggie: specifically the way he
ate at the breakfast table.
The chubby little six year old was
sweet enough and she was sure he was well-meaning, but he simply hadn’t been
treated with anywhere near enough discipline in his short life and the results
of that were clear. Elizabeth and her husband had brought Ann and Harriet up
with severe correction and had done an excellent job as a result. Both
daughters were level-headed, happy with their place in the world and kind to
others.
Reggie, and to a lesser extent his
sister Felicity, were relatively ignorant; always playing noisily and
chattering when they ought to keep silent. Perhaps she had forgotten what
having small children was like but Elizabeth felt sure that these two cherubs
should be better behaved. Reggie, in particular, was irritating because of his
lisp, which Elizabeth was sure could be easily eliminated with proper elocution
lessons. He spoke with a mouthful of spittle at all times and though the
initial impression this gave was of adorable sweetness, it wore thin very
quickly.
“Really Reggie,” she said. “Can’t
you eat more quietly? I’ve never heard such a racket coming from the mouth of a
child before.”
The smartly dressed young boy lowered
his head and looked up at her through his fringe, pouting. “Shorry auntie,” he
said.
“You can say sorry as often as you
like but if you meant it you would be more careful.”
“Listen to Aunt Elizabeth,” said
Patrick, frowning heavily at the boy. “I won’t have you embarrassing me, is
that clear?”
“Yesh father. I’m shorry.”
Elizabeth shook her head and raised
her eyebrows at her husband at the other end of the table. The man who appeared
to be Howard had been watching their exchange with interest and he gave her a
wink in return, smiling. Elizabeth didn’t notice the undercurrent of mirth in
the middle-aged man’s features, nor did she suspect the complicated series of
bodily exchanges that had gone on unnoticed around her. She returned to her
conversation with Geraldine about their plans for the lunchtime picnic, doing
her best to ignore Reggie as he went back to eating noisily, oblivious to the
chomping noises coming from his open mouth.
Hattie meanwhile continued to enjoy
her conversation with Patrick as soon as her mother’s interjection was
forgotten, but she kept her eyes on the little boy, wondering the best way to
play her next trick.
She had noticed that her appetite was
healthier now she was a man and despite her initial consternation at the size
of her breakfast she had devoured it all soundly and felt, if anything, that
she could gladly eat more if it were presented to her. It was funny and a
surprisingly gratifying experience after a life of pecking daintily at food.
With all the talk of the upcoming picnic she was already looking forward to
tucking in heartily.
The breakfast started to wind down
and the ladies rose as the servants came in to clear the table. Hattie looked
out for her father in his new servile role but was disappointed not to see him.
She loitered behind, allowing Uncle
Patrick to go ahead talking to his daughter, moving closer to little Reggie.
Nellie hung back too, looking unsure of herself.
“Why don’t you go up to your room
Harriet,” said Hattie. “You’ll be called when it’s time for the picnic.” She
didn’t know what was stranger; talking to herself or hearing the words come in
such a good impersonation of her father’s speaking voice.
Nellie looked doubtful but she
nodded and left, following her instructions.
The servants cleared the first batch
of breakfast items and then Hattie was left alone with Reggie. She took the
seat beside the boy and leaned on the table. Reggie looked up at her fearfully
and Hattie knew why. The Earl had little patience for small children and she’d
witnessed him chastising the boy almost as many times as her mother did. The
difference was that the Earl was a terrifying individual, easily capable of
throwing his actual physical weight around. Nevertheless, she smiled at the
boy, conscious of the curling of her thick moustache around her mouth.
“It must be very annoying for you to
be told off so much Reggie,” she said, trying to sound kind.
Reggie didn’t know what to say to
that and was extremely intimidated by the entire situation. He said nothing and
didn’t even nod.
“A boy like you who does his best to
be good deserves more respect, wouldn’t you say?”
Still no response. The six year old
looked almost ready to cry.
“I bet you wish you were the one in
charge sometimes, eh?” asked Hattie. “Wouldn’t it be grand if you could be the
one to tell other people off; even your Aunt Elizabeth. Am I right?” She nodded
and gave him a nudge and Reggie managed a little grin at the idea.
“What would you say if I told you I
know a way that we could make that happen?” asked Hattie. “A way to temporarily
let you get your own back. Would you like that?”
Reggie hesitated then gave a noncommittal
shrug of his shoulders.
“I think you would,” said Hattie,
“and I’m going to let you in on a secret if you promise not to tell anyone. Do
you promise?”
Reggie nodded solemnly.
“Can I trust you young man?” asked
Hattie.
“Yesh shir,” replied Reggie.
Hattie smiled, smugly relishing what
was to come. “Good boy,” she said. “Then all you have to do is listen very
carefully.” She lifted the pendant box out of her pocket and flipped open the
lid. “Take this and go through to the drawing room. In a short while I will
come in with your Aunt Elizabeth. Until then you mustn’t show anyone else this
necklace. Do you understand?”
Reggie pouted a little then nodded.
“Yesh.”
“Good boy,” said Hattie. “When I
come in with your aunt I will talk to her for a little while and then I will
give you a signal. When I give you that signal I would like you to take a
certain action. Is that clear?”
The little boy nodded.
“Perfect,” said Hattie. “Now listen
carefully...”
I wonder what Harriet has in mind .I could guess but will leave it to the next installment to find out if I'm right.
ReplyDeleteRob
I'm not sure guessing is necessary at this stage. I'm particularly interested in this next phase of the story.
DeleteSo am I
DeleteRob
griply rule one: never put down or hand over the pendant to anyone ever.
ReplyDeleteHeh heh. Surely nothing bad will come of this!
Deletedefine "bad"
DeleteWell becoming the owner of all that land is a good thing, right?
Deleteand besides every pot could use a stirring or two.
DeleteThis plot is certainly getting a thorough stirring at the moment. But you ain't seen nothing yet!
Delete"Both daughters were level-headed, happy with their place in the world and kind to others." I can't stop laughing
ReplyDelete(Giggle) I put that in to amuse you.
Delete... and Harriet has been so disciplined in her control of the medallion ... so far :)
ReplyDeleteRobyn H
Well she may retain control yet! Don't count those chickens...
DeleteUhmmm . . . whose son is Reggie? Obviously not Elizabeth's or Howard's so that make's him Patrick's son, but who is the mom? I'm guessing its Geraldine. This chapter is a little confusing as I try to sort out the relationships. I do like the hinting about what is to come . . .
ReplyDeleteCheers
Zapper
Have you started reading these later chapters before the beginning? Some confusion is likely I guess if you've skipped ahead.
DeleteReggie is Howard's nephew, the son of Patrick and Geraldine.
Sorry, I figured it out. lol - I blame it on the pint I was drinking while reading this chapter.
Delete(Smiles fondly)
Delete