Tabitha did not have a reply. She was sure in her heart that her handsome hero was probably the bravest and most gallant man in the whole land and that he would soon make short shrift of Napoleon and his legions if he had but to draw his sword and answer the call to arms. She was absolutely sure of it. Her father however, drawing gently on his pipe in the quiet seclusion of the candlelit library, was considerably less convinced about Lord Fitzwarren than his daughter.
Chapter 4
Three days after her return from London, the baron received a message from a courier who had ridden all the way from London. The young man in his mud-splashed cloak delivered the letter directly into the baron’s hand and touched his cap in a gesture of respect when he received a shining silver sixpenny piece for his troubles.
‘Tabitha!’ The baron’s voice echoed up the grand staircase as the servants brought fresh bread, coffee and sweet preserves to the dining room table for breakfast. ‘You shall be late for your breakfast and I have news for you. And find Regina! I do declare the scamp is outside in the cold, playing mud pies in the stables again!’
As his elder daughter sat down at the breakfast table and Regina came racing into the room with freshly scrubbed face and hands, the baron cleared his throat and handed the letter he’d just received to Tabitha. ‘You can read and eat at the same time, I trust?’ he smiled, carefully concealing the small fleck of blood that had appeared at the side of his mouth.
‘Who is it from, papa?’
‘Read it and see! Read it and all shall be revealed!’ The baron covered his mouth again with the fine linen napkin and coughed, aware that more droplets of bright red blood had stained the fabric.
‘Papa! My stars! It is from Daniel. He asks permission to visit. Is this true?
’Who’s Daniel?’ Regina was busily covering a warm bread roll with butter and damson jam, managing to spill crumbs and preserve onto her mud-flecked dress in equal measure.
‘Would you like to see the young man again, my dear?’
‘Who’s Daniel?’ piped Regina with a mouthful of warm roll and jam.
‘Of course I would, papa. He’s such a wonderful, handsome man, I’m sure you will like him.’
‘Who’s Daniel?’ repeated Regina as she took another bite of bread roll and a sip from her glass of fresh milk.
‘Then I shall accept his suggestion and invite him to attend upon us at the house. But he will need to be entertained and what better excuse could we possibly have for staging a ball?’
‘Oh, papa! I shall be the happiest girl in the county!’
‘Who’s Daniel?’ said Regina but it gradually dawned on her that, amongst all the excited chatter at the breakfast table, no one was really listening to her. She looked at her half-eaten roll and whispered to it ‘Who’s Daniel?’
Chapter 5
Daniel, Lord Fitzwarren of Buckley, had proposed a visit to his father’s old acquaintance on the entirely spurious grounds that he felt he was obliged to pay the baron his respects whilst his father the Earl was unavoidably detained in Spain. It was only good manners. The young Lord suggested that he might provide better company during the visit if he could bring a group of friends along and the baron readily agreed. ‘It’s about time we had some young blood in the house instead of these old bones rattling around like a gathering of ghosts!’ It was unfortunate that the baron had chosen that precise moment to cast his gaze upon Miss Cowper, who felt most righteously offended to be classed with the baron as a bag of old bones - or even as a ghost - obviously on account of her maturity. She had sniffed and drawn herself up to her full height to declare that was she was still very much in the prime of her life. The baron had clearly not intended to sleight the governess and he calmed her indignation with the peace offering of a generous glass of Madeira. And then another. And order and good grace were soon restored to the baron’s household whilst Tabitha and Regina giggled uncontrollably behind Miss Cowper’s rigidly unbending back.
Chapter 6
The ball required time to be organised. Musicians had to be hired. Fine plate and crystal glasses needed to be washed and polished to a shine. Food, wine, tobacco and provisions had to be prepared. Candles and oil lamps needed to be trimmed. Clothes needed to be brushed and pressed and bed linen for the guests brought out of storage. It required a whole month in all but the time was well spent and the house looked wonderful as the spring sunshine wakened the earth and green shoots decorated the countryside with the first hints of warmer weather and the unmistakable signs of life returning to the fields and hedgerows.
As a matter of courtesy, the baron invited all the local dignitaries to the ball and that included his friend and distant neighbour, Charles Percy, the Duke of Rutland. Not as old as the baron and reputed to be fabulously wealthy, the Duke was a personal advisor to the King and served in his government as a trusted administrator and dogged supporter of the war against Napoleon. The baron sincerely hoped the Duke would grace the ball with his presence. It would certainly add an additional measure of prestige to the occasion but the baron was looking forward to seeing his old friend again. In truth, he was very fond of the Duke. At this late stage in his life and with his health sadly and slowly deteriorating, the baron didn’t have too many friends left in the world that he could call on. He was thoroughly delighted when he received word that the Duke would be most pleased to take a short leave of absence from the affairs of state to attend the ball and that he was looking forward to raising a rousing toast to the baron’s health and happiness and long life.
The preparations progressed smoothly, apart from the occasional interference from Miss Cowper who, in the absence of the baron’s sorely-missed wife, often presumed to assume the role of the female head of the household. This did little to make her popular with the servants and brought an inevitable gentle rebuke from the baron who appreciated her kindness and efforts but not her presumptions. He would calm her with a glass of Madeira in the library and urge her to leave the arrangements to his loyal and experienced staff. Clearly, she would have loved nothing more than to assume the title of mistress of the great house but that was a fantasy that would never be fulfilled. The baron had no intention of re-marrying and, if he had been forced to choose a bride at his time of life, he would undoubtedly have sought a titled lady with spirit and vitality, a lady who would’ve brought joy and laughter into the household in contrast to Miss Cowper’s grim and notorious sense of discipline and propriety.
And yet the preparations progressed in an orderly and timely fashion and the baron was pleased with the lovely decorations that filled his elegant and under-used ball room. He fondly remembered the brightly-lit balls that his young wife had enjoyed so much, the hundreds of flickering candles, the glittering chandeliers, the laughter and chatter, the music and dancing, the wonderful array of dishes and the excellent wines. There had been too few occasions to hold a ball in his household since his dearly beloved wife had passed away but the thought of his lovely daughter acquiring a suitor at the tender age of sixteen made him smile. A grand excuse to hold a ball! There would be no rush, of course. Everything would proceed at a genteel and carefully measured pace. He did not wish to see Tabitha married before she was eighteen and he prayed that he would live long enough to escort her down the isle of the parish church on her wedding day. It was in many ways his fondest wish.
Chapter 7
Baron Branton’s guests began to arrive at the stately hall two full days before the ball was due to be held. Amongst the first to arrive was Daniel, the dashing Lord Fitzwarren and his three titled companions. Their coach was drawn by six black stallions and lavishly decorated within and without. The carriage doors bore the Earl of Buckley’s coat of arms and the coachman and guard wore the earl’s distinctive green and gold livery. The vehicle was as comfortable as the skilled craftsmen and coach-builders could possibly make it,with over-stuffed, padded leather seating and an inlaid ebony case in the centre of the floor that securely held both wine and crystal glasse
s and spirits for the passengers’ pleasure and comfort. It was a marvel of the age and had cost the earl a small fortune to commission and build. But the earl was with the King’s army in faraway Spain, fighting the forces of Napoleon, and his son had thought it a waste and a sacrilege to leave such a fine and handsome carriage unused in a humble stable block on his father’s extensive estate. He’d ordered the coach brought to London for his personal use and its polished and painted woodwork soon became a regular sight on the capital’s streets as it conveyed Daniel and his companions to the fashionable salons and drawing rooms where he loved to play cards.
The baron smiled as he stood at the top of the wide stone staircase to welcome his guests as they tumbled out of their carriage. He extended a firm handshake to the young Lord Fitzwarren and introduced himself with a polite nod of the head. Daniel’s manners were impeccable and he soon extended his charm and elegant courtesy to the elderly baron, complimenting his host on the beauty and setting of the great house. It was impossible not to be entranced by the young noble, who moved with studied poise and grace, lifting his chin to toss his oiled and coiffed curls and smiling at all and everyone. Even at Miss Cowper, to whom he extended an exaggerated and courtly bow as if he were in the presence of an empress. She appeared slightly less convinced of the young man’s sincerity than the rest of the staff.
The gossip below stairs talked of little else other than engagements and weddings and a match made in heaven and Tabitha agonised in her chamber over which dress to wear that evening when she would meet Daniel again after a whole month’s separation. She had thought of precious little else. He occupied her waking thoughts and feelings and had taken full possession of her heart without the slightest hint of resistance. She was sixteen and everyone with eyes to see could tell that the young Lady Branton was head over heels in love. One glimpse of young Daniel Fitzwarren’s dashing smile and refined manners and everyone could understand why. Everyone perhaps except for Tabitha’s little sister, the energetic and playful Regina. She watched the young Lord with wide eyes as he bowed and made elegant flourishes with his scented kerchief to underline his words and Regina could not for one moment begin to understand what all the fuss was about. The cook laughed when Regina explained that Daniel seemed to her to be a great deal of fuss over nothing.
‘You’ll think differently when you’re older, my poppet!’ Regina had looked up at the plump cook and declared in a solemn voice, ‘Why, I hope I have much more sense than that,’ and the entire kitchen staff had roared with laughter.
Chapter 8
Regina had rushed into her sister’s chambers to see if she had finally chosen a gown for the evening and then added in innocence that she thought absolutely any dress would be suitable because Tabitha was so beautiful that she could wear anything. Tabitha smiled at the compliment, beaming joyfully at her little sister. ‘And what do you think of Lord Daniel, Regina? Is he not the most handsome man you have ever seen?’ Regina was not particularly gifted in the art of diplomacy and could no more lie to her beloved sister than sprout wings and fly. ‘He reminds me of a story that papa read to us.’
‘A story, you say? Of gallant knights rescuing fair damsels from captivity and slaying dragons to save the kingdom?’
‘Not really.’ She pursed her lips in concentration. ‘I was thinking more of the story of the clever monkey that learned to walk on two legs and talk and ape the manners of gentle folk.’
There was a hushed silence in the bedchamber. Tabitha slowly drew in her breath.
Then Regina smiled. ‘But be became very famous and met the king because a talking monkey was such a funny thing that everyone in the whole wide kingdom wanted one as a pet.’
With a laugh, a hop and a skip, she turned lightly on her heel and ran out of the room, happy to have shared her views and completely oblivious of any offence she might have caused. The chambermaid shook her head, tutted and laughed. ‘She is but a child, Your Ladyship, and they know no better at that age.’
Tabitha sighed. ‘I believe you are right, Mary. She knows no better and we should be patient with her. But, in faith, to compare Lord Daniel to an ape! That is most unfair and an outrage and no mistake.’
Chapter 9
Baron Branton had ordered the kitchen staff to prepare a light supper with a fine selection of wines to welcome the first of his guests that evening. A log fire warmed the dining room and the conversation touched on the war with France, the shortages of French wine that had been occasioned by the Royal navy’s blockade of Bonaparte’s ports, the state of the government and the health of the king. Tabitha sat quietly, trying not to stare at the young Lord Fitzwarren, deeply self-conscious of her gown and fearful that the deep green satin might not have been to his liking. She ate sparingly, butterflies springing up and taking flight in her stomach. Daniel displayed his wit and cleverness with words, making puns and playful expressions that kept the table amused until the pudding had been served and consumed.
‘Friends,’ said the baron, ‘let us adjourn to the drawing room and perhaps persuade the more musically-inclined to offer us the benefit of their gifts.’
The dozen or so guestsapplauded the baron’s suggestion and retired to the comfortable drawing room where Tabitha was requested to play and sing for them. Blushing and with a degree of reluctance, she took her place at the piano and closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. The room became silent as she lifted he delicate fingers above the keyboard and began to play. An accomplished pianist with her mother’s pure and lucid voice, she enchanted the company with a gentle song about two young lovers who were separated in every verse by their sworn duty and the guests joined in with the lilting chorus that cast a melancholy air over the candlelit room.
Tabitha’s father stood to applaud his daughter’s beautiful playing, beaming with pride at her performance, moved by the lilt of her voice and memories of her mother’s enchanting power to hold a room with a simple tune, and then he demanded something more jolly to lift their spirits. Tabitha smiled and launched into a rousing country song that everyone knew and soon enough even the servants and footmen were joining in with the merry chorus and the room was filled with cheering voices and stamping feet, laughter and gaiety, smiles and applause.
Tabitha excused herself from the piano with a small curtsy and the baron asked for a volunteer to raise the roof and dazzle the assembly with more singing and playing. Lord Daniel’s friends made a great play of trying to persuade him to take his seat at the pianoforte and, despite his protests that he possessed only the most pitiable and meagre talents as a musician, he reluctantly agreed to offer what he could. But on the strict condition that they all refrain from throwing rotten fruit and vegetables at him! He smiled at Tabitha as he took his seat and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.
He cocked his head for a moment as if in thought and then he announced to the room that he would like first to offer an instrumental piece for their amusement, a tune that did not involve the use of his coarse and untrained cowherd’s voice! The guests laughed good naturedly but could not possibly know what was to follow. Daniel adjusted his lace cuffs and began to play. His command of the pianoforte was simply breath-taking. He played one of the most complex and demanding pieces anyone in the room had ever heard and he played with a fluency and sensitivity that brought tears to Tabitha’s eyes. It was one of the most moving performances that any of them had ever witnessed. At the close of the piece, Daniel closed his eyes for a moment in the silence that followed and then stood up and bowed formally to the other guests before taking his seat and beginning a song that took their breath away. He played a ballad and sang with a beautifully measured baritone that made the guests shake their heads in wonder. He was truly gifted. He was a prodigy. He played and sang as if the ancient classical gods of music had taken possession of his mortal frame and endowed him with the gifts of Apollo. Even the baron was moved by the beauty of the performance. As he brought the piece to an end, he laughed out loud and
immediately launched into a rousing sea shanty that had the guests clapping their hands in time to the rhythm and shouting their way through the chorus. It was a wonderful way to while away the evening and the footmen charged the guests’ crystal glasses with fine ports and sherries as well as offering Miss Cowper her favourite semi-sweet Madeira.
Chapter 10
As the evening drew to a close and the baron rose to thank his guests, he coughed a little and quickly covered his mouth to conceal the small flecks of blood that spilled from his lips, excusing himself for the hint of port that he claimed to have gone down the wrong way! It had been an entirely pleasing and satisfactory evening and bode well for the ball that was arranged for the following evening. With a courtly bow to the room, the baron took his leave, a kerchief pressed firmly to his lips and a cough that shook his chest, and Tabitha lingered by the fireplace in the hope that she might be favoured with a few minutes of Daniel’s time. He was standing with his coterie of friends, laughing and basking in their admiration, his oiled and curled blue-black hair shining in the candlelight, when he turned and smiled at Tabitha. She raised a hand to her throat as he inclined his head and walked over to the fireplace to stand next to her.