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Lady Frankerley's Lover


Guest Miranda

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Story Title: Lady Frankerley's Lover

Type of story: Long fic

Main Characters: Nicole and Romeo are the main characters, but all the others will be included.

BTTB rating:probably T

Genre: Romance/ Comedy.

Does story include spoilers: No, its a parody.

Any warnings: maybe sexual content?

Summary: A comical parody of Lady Chatterley's Lover, written by me, Red Ranger and others, for a bit of silliness after people's exams.

Lady Nicole Frankerley sighed as she gazed out of the window across the vast acres of her estate. The frilled lace curtain fluttered in the breeze, which was welcome during the searing hot summer day. Now where was her fan? She looked round for it… how annoying! Aha! She spotted the pink butterfly bedecked item and returned to the window. But who was that young man standing by the fountain? He wore a white shirt and breeches, with a handsome crown of strawberry blond hair. He seemed uneasy, what was wrong?

Suddenly he caught up a bucket by the fountain, dipped it in the water and tipped it over himself, making his white shirt transparent. Such an air of relief, he must have been exceedingly hot.

Lady Nicole hastily retreated behind the curtain. Her marriage to Lord Frankerley was not a happy or fulfilled one. He was much older and had returned from the war impotent and bitter, so Lady Nicole had been forced to suppress herself. But the sight of the young man by the fountain had set her girlish bosom heaving with emotion.

She wondered urgently who he was, but was distracted by the entrance of the housemaid, Ruby.

'Tell me, dear heart. Who is that young man over there?' She pointed to the garden, trying to appear languid.

'What young man, m'lady?'

'That one- oh! He's gone. Tell me, have there been any new staff members lately?'

'Er…. There would be the new under gamekeeper, Mr- er-'

'Yes?' Lady Nicole's heart fluttered so violently, she thought it must leap out of her bodice.

'Mr Smith.'

What an undistinguished name, thought the Lady with disappointment.

'He is from foreign parts, his background is mysterious,' added the maid, and her Lady's interest was piqued once more.

'Oh?'

'Yes, he was brought here in the company of Lord and Lady Holden, they have unusual connections, so tis said.'

'Ruby! Do not slander our neighbours.' Lady Nicole knew however, that the Holdens were a disreputable family, and anyone connected with them must have an intrigue about them.

****

Later that evening, Lady Nicole meandered sadly to her bedchamber. Her husband, Penn, had been so dashing when they wed. Only for him to return from the war broken and limp. She sighed. That new gamekeeper, Smith, now he was really- Stop! She told herself firmly. I have made my bed and must lie in it. Or not, as the case maybe.

She passed Penn's dressing room. What was that strange noise? Was her husband in pain? Tapping on the door, she strode in briskly.

'Oh, my lady.' Ruby, the maid was hastily straightening her clothing. 'Lord Penn, he - er-'

'-wanted her to dust the high shelves,' intervened Penn smoothly. He had a big smile on his face as he lay on his sick bed. 'You know how I like a dust free room, my dear.'

'Of course darling. Ruby, I think the cook needs your assistance.' Nicole and Ruby left together. Strange how red in the face the maid was, thought Nicole. Must be the weather.

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Guess I've been given two things to live up to, after Miranda's excellent opening chapter and jdoddy's introduction.(I don't pay him, honestly.)So let's see what happens next...

Lady Nicole had intended nothing more involved than a brief walk of the grounds, one of the few forms of exercise that was still open to her. But her sojourn was interrupted by the appearance of the gentleman she had spied earlier, making his way back through the grounds towards the house. She could not help stopping to admire the cut of his trousers and the barest glimpse of his manly chest afforded by the opening of his shirt where the upper buttons had been left undone. She chided herself for the unpure thoughts but could not deny their attraction.

The gentleman stopped, aware of her intention but apparently misinterpreting it. He gave her a deferential salute. ‘Good day, m’lady.’

‘Good day, young man,’ she replied, although he was scarcely younger than her. ‘It is Mr Smith, is it not?’

‘It is, m’lady, yes. Mr Copeland asked me to return to the house to speak to the cook on a matter to do with the estate.’

‘I apologise for not welcoming you to the staff beforehand, I was not aware of your appointment until today.’ She found herself searching for some small intimacy between them. ‘To call you Mr Smith sounds so formal, does it not? What is your first name?’

The young man paused, as if uncertain how to answer. ‘I beg your pardon, m’lady, but that is a matter between myself and my parents. It is not used by my acquaintances.’

Lady Nicole felt a thrill go through her. Another mystery to this intriguing newcomer to the area! ‘Then what do your friends call you?’

‘Romeo, m’lady.’

Lady Nicole bristled at the answer. ‘Do you make fun of us, sir?’

‘No, ma’am. It is my second name. My mother was a great fan of the works of Mr Shakespeare, as well as the contents of a bottle.’

‘I see.’ Romeo by name and perhaps Romeo by nature, she could not help consider. ‘I have kept you from your task too long.’

He gave her a deferential salute again. ‘Not at all, ma’am, it was a pleasure to speak to you. I would be happy to do so whenever you desire.’

She watched him enter the house before deciding the time had come for her to return to her sitting room. She had a most urgent need for a glass of water…

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  • 2 weeks later...

A/N: Sorry for the delay and the shortness of the chapter - I've just started a new Job this week so things have been pretty manic.

This is also the first time I have published anything in just over a year - so I hope its of standard! :P

Chapter Three

Lady Nicole was resting in a large open living area overlooking the sweeping green lawns of her expansive estate, enjoying the slight tingle of golden sunlight teasing through the open double doors. This was a position she had adopted for the past few days - she had been hoping to catch a glimpse of Romeo again, but alas the young man who had been the governor of her mind for the past days was proving to be quite a tough customer to spot.. She felt her heart flutter at the thought of the muscular Smith working in the hot sun.. she was brought back to earth with a start upon the entrance of the maid Ruby who led Penn behind her with a look of slight awkwardness resting on her features.

‘Nicole.. my love’ the cracked voice of Penn called out as he entered, before the war his voice had been warm, yet firm - it was the kind of voice that was able to wrap Nicole up and take her away from the ‘troubles’ of life as a Lady of the Manor... ‘I felt the most pressing need to be close to you, so I asked the Maid to bring me to you.. enjoying the sun are we my dear.. I wouldn’t expect anything less’, he punctuated his last words with a rough chuckle, of which any humor he had expected to be there had died many moons ago.

Lady Nicole rose from her position, regretfully leaving her view of the garden just as a tuft of blonde hair could be seen bobbing around behind one of the grand hedges.. and walked towards Penn and the maid, beginning to speak as soon as she reached half way ‘You shouldn’t have wasted your precious energy my love, you are looking awfully tired - Miss Ruby, I will take care of my husband from here, could you please return to the kitchen and collect a fresh pitcher of the exquisite lemonade I have been partaking in on this fine afternoon.. Nicole finished her sentence before she took one of Penn’s muscular arms and began to lead him towards one of the armchairs near where she had been sitting moments earlier.. he lowered himself down to the chair from the standing position and closed his eyes, the pained expression that seemed to always adorn his once fine features slackened slightly.

Nicole noticed Ruby had not moved from her position - and taken no notice of her request, instead she was looking rather lovingly at the resting figure of Penn. ‘uh-hum’ Lady Nicole cleared her throat in a theatrical fashion before speaking.. ‘Is it not your job to listen to your Lady Miss?’.. Nicole snapped rather maliciously.. the maid seemed to become aware of herself and her position immediately, she hurriedly rearranged her facial expression before speaking out in response.. ‘Oh.. Miss - Right, the Lemonade’.. ‘I’m terribly sorry but that was our last pitcher, you will need to wait for gamekeeper Smith to come back with some fresh lemons.. It’s his recipe you see’.

Lady Nicole’s rather stoney expression softened at the words, she turned on her heel as to hide the growing blush she could feel blossoming on her cheeks from the maid before whistfully responding ‘Oh.. is it now, that is.. interesting - very well.. that is all’. she heard Miss Ruby turn on her heel before hurriedly adding ‘Oh.. if you could tell Mr Smith I would

like him to deliver the next batch personally..’

Miss Ruby was glad the Lady’s eyes were averted so she did not see her rolling her own at the request.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Decided it was time for an update. Sorry if anyone is in the process of writing one!

********

Lady Nicole enjoyed her secret plans. She had so little fun in her life that the imminent arrival of the under gamekeeper with the lemons had built itself to enormous proportions.

She had an appointment with Mr Smith at midday in her drawing room. The exchange of lemons was no small matter. The lemons would have to be carefully inspected for blemishes, a discussion of payment would ensue. It was well know about Frankerley Manor that Mr Smith's secret family recipe for lemonade was priceless, but Lady Nicole was sure she could persuade him to part with it, for a price.

The thought of what price he would ask gave her palpitations and she had to sit down abruptly on the chaise longue.

Midday dawned, and Nicole ensured she was in her most becoming pose and flattering gown. A knock on the door- oh! He was here.

'Enter?' she called in a ladylike tone.

'Arternoon, ma'am,' said Mr Smith, doffing his cap.

'I hear your lemonade is a family secret?' she trilled.

'That it is ma'am.' Mr Smith seemed to have a Yorkshire accent, suddenly, as all gamekeepers should have. How quaint.

'Pray, what would it take for you to reveal the secret?' she glanced seductively up at him.

'Nowt, ma'am.'

'Whose recipe is it?'

'My great great great great grandmother, Mrs. Elizabeth Holden- er, I mean Hollingbury.' He blushed, but hid it by turning away.

Nicole was intrigued. She stood up and walked up to the stricken under gamekeeper. Oh, what muscled arms he had, how she longed to-

'I'm sworn to keep the secret. If anyone found out the secret ingredient-' again the uncomfortable man bit his lip.

'The secret ingredient?' Nicole circled him, making him even more uncomfortable. Oh, how the white shirt and tweed waistcoat suited him, he smelled of outdoors, smoke, fresh air and lemons. Ah yes, lemons.

'So, Mr Smith, may I see your lemons?'

'Pardon? Oh- er- yes-' He lifted the wicker basket from the floor. 'Six lemons are all. That is precisely noted by Mrs Hollingbury.'

The lemons were certainly fine. Suspiciously fine and glossy. Lady Nicole went to pick one up.

'No!' snapped Smith. 'Er- sorry, m'lady. No one is to contaminate the lemons before cooking.'

Nicole was just about to reply, when the door burst open.

'Smith!' roared Copeland. 'What are you doing hobnobbing with her ladyship? Begging your pardon m'lady.' He bowed low to Nicole.

'What is the rush, Mr Copeland?' she asked languidly, but inwardly fuming.

'Mr Smith is needed urgently- it's a matter of- er- under gamekeeping of the most serious nature.' He was twisting his tweed cap in his hand in a suspicious manner.

'Very well. Please do not intrude so violently into my drawing room again.' Nicole dismissed them both with a wave of her hand, and turned to the window to hide her frustration.

There would be other times to question Smith, but what could she do to distract herself?

She clapped her hands with job. A ball! She would arrange an extravagant ball for all the neighbours for miles around. There hadn't been one at the Manor since before Penn's return, but now was the time. After all, there was nothing Nicole liked better than holding large balls.

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Here's my contribution, sorry it's rather short.

*****

‘A ball?’ Penn asked with eyebrow raised. ‘I must say, that’s a most curious choice.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Lady Nicole replied.

‘Well, my dear, because I would find it exceedingly difficult to join you in the dancing.’ Penn patted his chair significantly.

‘Oh, I don’t think that would be a problem. As hostess I suspect I will receive many offers.’ Lady Nicole fluttered her eyelids at him enticingly. ‘It will be good to have all the neighbours round again.’

Penn smiled at her indulgently. ‘Very well, my dear, if it will make you happy.’

‘And I was wondering if perhaps I should invite the Holdens as well?’

‘The Holdens?’ Penn looked surprised at the mention. ‘They are not within our usual social circle.’

‘I know but I think it is perhaps our aristocratic duty to extend such a courtesy to them.’

Penn waved a hand airily, dismissing his own concerns. ‘Very well, my dear, invite them if you will. They have certainly done us a pretty favour in providing us with that new under-gamekeeper. You have found his work to be quite acceptable so far, have you not?’

Lady Nicole felt the slight reddening of her cheeks that caused her to hide her face from him momentarily. ‘Ah, yes, he is a most welcome addition to our staff.’

She was saved from answering further by the sudden appearance of a tall blonde woman wearing a grey nurse’s uniform in the doorway. The newcomer checked herself. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t aware that I was interrupting him.’

Penn glanced at Nicole, who was eyeing the woman suspiciously. ‘You recall Nurse Scott, my new personal carer?’ He looked back at the woman. ‘I have no use of you for the moment, Bianca, but I am sure I will have some duties for you later.’

Bianca gave a brief bow. ‘Of course, sir. I will return when her ladyship has left you.’

‘Is it not strange that all your nurses have been so young?’ Nicole asked once they were alone again. ‘I always expected them to be older, more motherly. This new one seems a trifle inexperienced.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Penny replied airily. ‘She may not be much advanced in years but I find her quite up to any task I ask of her.’

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  • 2 weeks later...

The day of the Ball dawned, and Nicole watched the preparations avidly. As a member of the aristocracy, she didn’t have to do anything but order people around. She had made her own preparations of course, putting on her favourite pale pink dress, aided ably by her ladies maid, Colleen.

Colleen was getting on in years, but an expert at all the duties a ladies maid was expected to do. Needlepoint, corset fitting, chaperoning, listening to troubles, all came as second nature to the aging servant.

Nicole was pleased with her appearance, as she watched the carriages draw up to the Manor. She began walking in a leisurely way to greet her guests and passed through the fairy glade by the brook.

‘Careful, m’lady!’ exclaimed a voice, and Smith stepped out of the undergrowth.

‘Oh!’ Nicole faked a stumble, and the muscle-bound Smith was forced to assist her. She gazed up into his green (?) eyes, and felt her heart pounding in her bodice. He was so handsome, if only she was free of her husband-

‘Smith!’ roared the head gamekeeper, Mr Stewart. ‘What the devil are you doing with her ladyship?’

‘Oh- oh nothing, sir, just helping-‘

‘Be silent, Stewart. Smith assisted me when I fell, that is all. Please do not interrupt so rudely.’ She was harsher than she intended, but she must not let her servants guess of her longing for Smith, as he was beneath her in status.

She dismissed Stewart and walked with Smith to the fountain where she had first seen him.

‘So, Mr Smith, what exactly does an under gamekeeper do?’ she had rehearsed that question, and was proud of it.

‘Well, m’lady…’ he went off into a detailed explanation. Nicole only hear a few words such as ‘undergrowth’, ‘traps’, ‘poachers’ etc.

Sadly, she had to leave him at the fountain and return to her upper class life as hostess of the ball. Oh, the memory of those stolen moments in the glade. Smith’s fine masculine form would haunt her dreams.

The ball began with a swing. Nicole found herself dancing with the suave Lord Holden, twirling his moustache (uh oh), as he waltzed.

‘So, my dear Lady Nicole, how are you finding your new under gamekeeper, Smith?’ he asked smoothly.

His eye caught that of his wife Lady Rachel’s. She was whirling by in the arms of Dr. Sidney Walker, the town physician.

Nicole didn’t understand the look which passed between the Holdens, it seemed they were signalling each other.

‘Oh, he’s wonderful,’ she enthused, then caught herself. ‘So Stewart tells me, I mean. He carries out all his duties admirably.’

‘Really?’ The Lord seemed puzzled, then quickly covered. ‘Of course, he’s from an unknown fam- er- he has been trained very well-‘

‘Tony!’ snapped his wife. ‘Recollect yourself!’

Nicole wondered what was going on. Why did Lady Rachel have to be so rude to her older husband? Where was Smith from?

Her next dance was with the classical musician, Liam de Murphy, an Irish harpsichord player.

‘To be sure, Lady, what a picturesque home you have, so it is,’ he began charmingly, whirling her round in the dance.

‘Oh yes, Mr Murphy, quite so. Tell me, you are staying with the Holdens. What is your opinion of them?’

A shifty look crossed the musician’s face, quickly replaced with his usual pleasant one.

‘My lady, I cannot speak of this in the public place we find ourselves in. if you like, I can meet you on the balcony and give you details.’ This last sentence came out in a rush, as the young Lord Xavier Austin-Holden danced by with his partner, Lady April. He glared at the Irishman, and de Murphy swept Lady Nicole away.

Later, when the dancing had paused for dinner, Lady Nicole noticed de Murphy beckoning her from behind the curtains. Forgetting the unseemliness of meeting him, she meandered over to him, greeting guests as she went, to avoid suspicion.

‘What do you have to tell me, de Murphy?’ she asked, desperate to find out about her under gamekeeper’s past.

‘He is from an ancient family, who were persecuted in the last war,’ began de Murphy. ‘Every member must keep themselves hidden in case their enemies find them. Hence his change of name.’

Nicole felt smug. She knew Smith could not be his real name, he was too distinctive.

‘Oh, Lady Nicole, I must tell you I’ve admired you for so long,’ burst out de Murphy. ‘Your flaxen hair, your sapphire eyes, I could write a song about you.’

He suddenly produced a lute and began to strum it.

Nicole watched half admiringly and half in horror. She did not think of de Murphy like that in any way. He finished his song and stepped forward, pressing her against the ornate stone balustrade.

‘Oh, how I’ve longed to kiss your ruby lips, your-‘

Had de Murphy imbibed too much wine? She tried to push him away.

‘No, sir, please, I beg of you. I do not want you to know me in that way, sir please!’ He wouldn’t move away, and she became scared.

Suddenly, de Murphy was pulled away from her.

‘She said no, you imbecile!’ snapped Smith, for he was her saviour.

De Murphy staggered off, cursing under his breath.

‘Are you quite alright, m’lady?’ asked Smith, brushing her down, which was quite unnecessary.

‘Oh, Smith,’ Nicole fell into his arms, overacting for all it was worth. ‘If you hadn’t come to my aid then, who knows what would have happened?’

‘T’was nothing, dear lady. Any time I can assist you, it will be my pleasure.’ They gazed into each other’s eyes, and Nicole felt as if he would kiss her.

‘Smith!’ bellowed a voice. Again. This time it was Lady Rachel Holden. ‘What do you think you are doing? You must never get involved with the aristocracy, you are- you are-‘ she could hardly bear to say the words- ‘illegitimate!’

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Nicole recoiled slightly from Smith’s embrace, gazing at him in horror. Surely such a noble countenance, such fine and gentle features, could not be the product of some illicit union? Smith avoided her gaze, as though embarrassed. ‘I apologise if I overstepped the mark, your ladyship,’ he said at last. ‘I think it would be best if I returned t’ my duties.’

‘My dear’ – Lord Holden drew all attention to himself as he appeared on the balcony – ‘I hope you have not been indiscreet.’

Lady Rachel looked chastened. ‘I am sorry, husband, but you must keep the boy under control. Bothering Lady Frankerley in such a manner. He is but a poor relation…’

‘My dear,’ Lord Holden interrupted warningly.

Lady Rachel seemed to remember where she was, turning to Nicole. ‘I mean the expression figuratively, of course. Not to suggest that there is any true relation between us and Smith. Merely that we come from different walks of life and it is better that we all remember that.’ The last comment seemed to be directed at Smith.

Smith bowed slightly to Nicole. ‘Your ladyship,’ he said by way of farewell before departing the scene.

‘Well, now that everyone is certain where they stand,’ Lord Holden continued, ‘perhaps we should return to the ball.’

‘If you will allow me a moment’s privacy, I shall join you shortly,’ Nicole replied.

She waited until the Holdens had departed before allowing herself a tiny sob of regret. Oh, the humiliation! Oh, what a waste! Yet another gulf opened up between her and Smith, yet still she desired him with all her being. But she must put such feelings aside and resign herself to a life of misery and solitude. She was an aristocrat, after all.

No sooner had Nicole returned to the ball than Dr. Walker approached her. ‘If I may have a word, your ladyship?’

Despite a strong desire to be left alone, Nicole was aware that as hostess she had certain responsibilities. ‘Yes, of course, doctor, what may I do for you?’

‘Well, it is a question of what I may do for you. I wondered if perhaps you might wish to join me for dinner one evening. Or a visit to the picture house?’

It took Nicole a moment to realise what he was saying. ‘Doctor Walker, are you inviting me to a romantic assignation?’

Dr. Walker looked momentarily thrown. ‘I would not be so bold, your ladyship. I simply thought that as two people desiring companionship…’

‘Dr. Walker, I am a married woman! My husband provides me with all the companionship I need.’ She tried to push away thoughts of the handsome if illegitimate under gamekeeper. Oh, but to have him as a companion for but a few hours…

‘I beg your pardon, your ladyship, but it was your husband who encouraged the invitation.’

Nicole was surprised at the revelation. ‘My husband suggested you invite me out?’

‘Yes, your ladyship. He felt you were lonely and it would do you good to… get out of the house, so to speak.’

‘Well, rest assured, doctor, I will be informing my husband of his mistake. And I would suggest you put all such thoughts quite out of your head.’

Nicole knocked loudly on the bedroom door, waited until her husband bade her enter and then stormed into the room. She found Penn sitting in his chair, looking curiously uncomfortable, almost as though he had only just regained that position. ‘My dear, I have just had the more unsettling conversation with Doctor Walker.’

Penn cocked an eyebrow, seeming more amused than anything else by the outburst. ‘Unsettling, my dear?’

‘Yes! He informed me that you had put the most outrageous ideas in his head!’ Nicole suddenly noticed they weren’t alone. ‘Why is Ruby lying on your bed?’

‘Well…’

‘And why is her blouse unfastened?’

Penn glanced at Ruby, who was hastily covering herself up. ‘The girl was just bringing me a light refreshment when she suddenly felt faint. I cared for her as best I could and felt it necessary to loosen her garments to make it easier for her to breathe.’

‘Well, I am sure your concern does you credit but if the girl is feeling better perhaps she could allow us to continue our marital disagreement in peace?’

‘I am feeling much better, your ladyship,’ Ruby confirmed, sitting up and straightening herself down.

‘Perhaps you had best report back to Mr. Copeland the butler or Mrs. Roberts the housekeeper,’ Penn suggested. ‘I will call you if I have further need of you.’

Nicole waited until Ruby had departed before turning back to Penn. ‘What reason did you have for encouraging Dr. Walker to make overtures to me?’

‘I merely thought that, since my condition prevents me from partaking in certain activities, you might wish a companion who would be more… flexible in those areas.’

‘If such a companion were necessary, I am quite capable of choosing my own.’

‘Perhaps so but I think it best to ensure you make the right choice.’

Nicole looked at him suspiciously. ‘To what are you referring?’

‘Stewart tells me that you were in most intimate conversation with the under gamekeeper this evening.’

‘Stewart exaggerates. Young Smith offered me some small assistance and I thought it only polite to express my gratitude.’

‘So long as that was all it was.’ There was a sudden steel in Penn’s expression. ‘Because if I were to learn you were in the habit of keeping such unsuitable company, I would be most displeased.’

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Over the next few days, Nicole tried hard to stop thinking about Smith. But everywhere she went were reminders of him. A working man’s glove, prone in the road. A brace of pheasants, hanging from a local family’s door. A mantrap in the haberdasher’s window, as she meandered along the main thoroughfare of the village.

Why oh why had a humble manservant captured her heart so completely? It surely must be the frustration of her union with her husband- or rather, her non union with him. He was becoming more distant by the hour, and she had given up trying to captivate him.

‘Caution, your ladyship!’ barked a voice, and she was bundled unceremoniously out of the path of an enthusiastic horse and carriage.

‘Oh, thank you,’ Nicole wondered if she was losing her mind, it seemed she was in constant need of saving.

To her disappointment, her saviour this time was Lord Holden.

‘I must speak with you urgently, your ladyship, while my wife is at the dressmakers,’ he hissed.

‘Yes?’ replied Nicole suspiciously.

He drew her into a side alley.

‘Lady Nicole, if I may speak frankly. I am very concerned that our protégé, Smith, as you know him, is about to be exposed. Is there any protection your husband could offer him, to keep him under closer supervision? He currently resides with Mr Stewart, a fearsome fellow, but not, I fear, a match for Smith’s adversaries.’

‘I’m afraid you will have to be more direct, Lord Holden. To what do you refer?’

‘I refer, dear lady, to Smith’s background. As my wife informed you, he is illegitimate, but that is not enough to prevent- Any way, there is no time for explanations. I was hoping your husband could find quarters for Smith in the manor. Safety in numbers, as is the common idiom. Do you think this is possible?’

Nicole paused, allowing herself time to comprehend.

‘Do you mean that Smith should reside in Frankerley manor for his own safety?’

‘Oh yes, my dear, I’m so glad you see it that way. Oh! My wife.’ Lord Anthony hastened out of the side street at once, leaving Nicole hesitating.

‘Cross my palm with silver and I’ll tell ee thy fortune,’ said a voice, and a rough gypsy woman met her eye. She had curling blonde hair, was highly rouged and wore very close-fitting garments. She would have been attractive if of a higher social class.

‘Oh!’ Nicole recoiled in shock.

‘I see love in your future, pretty lady. A handsome lover, with a secret in his past.’

‘How can you see all that without reading my palm?’

‘They don’t call me Marvellous Marilyn for nothing, my dear.’

‘Oh, such a pretty one,’ said a male voice, and Nicole stepped back. A tall gypsy man stood next to Marvellous Marilyn. He had dark curling hair and blue eyes, a full moustache and beard. ‘A lucky man who weds ee.’

‘Oh, Hugo, stop your teasing of the lady.’ Marilyn slapped him playfully on the arm.

‘Tell me, my lady, as I know you are. How are your game keeping staff these days?’ inquired Hugo.

Nicole gasped, then, gathering all her courage, pushed past the couple. Another reminder of Smith. But what did the gypsy man know of him?

She put the strange encounter aside and marched to her husband’s bedchamber. He was alone for once, sitting on the window seat. Forgetting to ask how he had left his chair, she strode up to him.

‘My dear, I have had the most extraordinary day.’ She related her encounters to him and he listened in surprise.

‘I see no reason why young Smith should not be domiciled in the manor.’ Penn’s rich, manly voice worked its usual charm on his wife and she listened, spellbound. He outlined a plan to use Smith as some sort of footman-cum-gamekeeper.

‘I hear his intellect is far superior to Stewart’s. He could assist with any number of physical tasks below stairs.’

Nicole spent the next day in feverish anticipation of Smith’s removal to the manor. He would dwell in the same house as herself! She could not prevent herself feeling a shiver of excitement.

The removal went very smoothly. Nicole found herself passing by the servants’ quarters many times that day. She had found a narrow, little used staircase near Smith’s room, with a convenient curtained alcove, and situated herself there. She was rewarded by occasional glimpses of Smith carrying an excessive amount of baggage. No one seemed to assist, so he had to do it all himself. She wished she could help, but what could a mere woman do to assist such a robust young man as he?

That evening, she visited the servants’ quarters one last time. Penn had been put to bed by his nurse, Miss Scott, and had no need of his wife.

Taking up her usual position, she sighed when the door of Smith’s room rattled as if he were having trouble opening it. He at last emerged, frowning and fiddling with the errant door handle.

Producing a tool from his boot, he dug it into the door lock and manoeuvred it around until there was a click. He successfully shut and opened the door a few times, then stepped back admiring his handiwork. Nicole couldn’t prevent herself giving a small gasp of admiration. Afraid he might have heard this, she withdrew into the recess, and tried to still her beating heart to a sensible level.

Suddenly, the curtain was flung back.

‘Lady Nicole, may I ask why you have been observing my activities throughout the day?’ inquired Smith, for it was he. ‘Have I in any way displeased you, and given you reason for supervising me?’

‘Oh, no, Smith- er- oh- I-‘ Not knowing what to say, she stood up to leave. She looked up into his eyes, and was overwhelmed by his rough, manly, outdoor smell- wood smoke, fresh air and the leather of his britches. Her heart began pounding again, and she fell in a faint, straight into his arms.

She was unaware that Smith caught her up and conveyed her to his room. Not for any immoral purposes, but because he had a collection of homemade cures for ailments, passed down through many generations of his family. He knew the delicate lady in his arms lacked care and attention- if his observations were correct- and he intended to give her some.

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If that's okay? Don't feel pressurised, have an artistic crisis and have to recline on the chaise longue :wink:

Oh, don't worry, I do that on a regular basis anyway...

***

Nicole felt a cool, damp cloth across her forehead and a tender touch upon her cheek. Her eyes flickered open and she was shocked to see Smith was the one responsible for her tender treatment. She was even more shocked to realise she was in her bed chamber. ‘Mr. Smith, what is the meaning of this?’

Smith hastily withdrew his hand. ‘Begging your pardon, your ladyship. You seemed to be taken ill outside my room and I thought this was the best place t’ bring you.’

Nicole had a sudden rush of memories, of being in close proximity to him and of the curious burning sensation it had provoked. ‘Yes, ah, the vapours, you know.’ She smoothed herself down, disappointed to realise she was still fully clothed. ‘Did you not feel the need to loosen my clothing?’

He looked at her in confusion. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘To… to make it easier for me to breathe.’

‘You didn’t seem to be having any problems with that.’

‘Really? What a shame.’ She stole a glance around their gamekeeper-cum-footman’s new quarters. They lacked the personal touch but there was still a certain intimacy in being within them. ‘Ah, Romeo?’

It took Smith a second to respond to the unfamiliar address. ‘Yes, your ladyship?’

‘Although I am feeling better, I am not fully recovered and since my rooms are some distance from here and many of the household will have retired to bed, I wonder if it may perhaps be in order for me to stay the night here.’

If her use of his first name, or second name, or whichever name that came before the last it was, had thrown him, then her request did more so. ‘Will your husband not miss you?’

‘My husband and I have separate rooms. His condition requires him to remain on the ground floor.’

‘Yes, of course. Well… I’d be happy to give you a bit of hospitality. The floor here’ll be good enough for me.’

‘Oh, nonsense, Romeo.’ Nicole moved over slightly on the bed, patting the covers next to her. ‘There is plenty of room here for the two of us.’

Smith seemed to be having difficulty breathing for a moment, so much so that she considered offering to loosen his clothing. ‘If that is how your ladyship wishes.’ He quietly removed his jacket until he wore only his shirt sleeves above the waist and lay down next to her.

‘Careful you don’t fall off the edge of the bed,’ she warned him with a smile.

The early morning sunlight streaming through the room’s small window awoke them both, as well as casting a warm glow over them. Nicole studied her companion’s features for a few moments, absorbing the details. ‘Good morning, Smith,’ she said quietly.

‘Ah, good morning, my lady,’ he replied uncomfortably.

‘I trust you slept well?’

‘Well enough, your ladyship.’ Smith looked as though he were about to say more when there was a loud knocking at the door and a look of panic appeared in his eyes. ‘Quick, your ladyship, under the bed!’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Nicole looked affronted. ‘I am the lady of this house and I do not hide under its beds. Particularly when the floor underneath them has not been swept. See who it is.’

With a certain amount of trepidation, Smith crossed to the door and opened it to reveal Mrs. Roberts. ‘Ah, there you are, Smith. I was wondering when you last saw her ladyship? Mrs. Smart went to rouse her this morning and her bed chamber was empty. She’s all over the floor claiming that she’s been kidnapped by slavers from the Far East.’

Nicole stepped into view in the doorframe. ‘It’s quite all right, Mrs. Roberts. I awoke early and thought I would use the time to apprise Smith of his new duties.’

Mrs. Roberts gave her a doubtful look. ‘Are those not the clothes you wore yesterday, your ladyship?’

‘Ah, yes, they were the first thing to hand. I must ask Mrs. Smart to choose some fresh apparel for me.’ She glanced at her night time companion. ‘Well, Smith, I have enjoyed our conversation but my normal duties call me.’

He doffed his head slightly. ‘As yer wish, your ladyship.’

Nicole followed Mrs. Roberts out in the corridor, waiting until they were some distance from the room before asking ‘Mrs. Roberts, you have known my husband a long time, haven’t you?’

‘Nearly thirty years, man and boy, your ladyship. Why?’

‘I was just wondering if you consider him to be of good temperament. Strictly between the two of us, you understand. Have you known him to become angry?’

‘Well, he’s normally calm but he can be pretty ruthless when it takes him. A few years ago, shortly after he became the lord here, just before you met, there were some troubles down in the pits, the workers went on strike for better pay, organised some sort of sit-in in the mines until he agreed to their terms. And you know what he did to them?’

Nicole gave a gasp of horror. ‘He sealed the mine entrance and buried them alive? How villainous!’

Mrs. Roberts gave her a curious look. ‘Ah, no, your ladyship, he sent Alf Stewart and some of the other men down there with dogs and shotguns, dragged them all out and then sacked them.’

‘Oh.’ Nicole thought this over. ‘Still, that’s a bit villainous…’

When Nicole entered the drawing room, she found her husband sat in his wheelchair, in the company of a dark-haired woman a few years older than her. She was wearing a pair of glasses that gave her both a slightly severe and a slightly scatty appearance and seemed to have a notebook and pen permanently attached to her hands.

‘My dear, allow me to introduce you to our new house guest,’ Penn invited her. ‘Miss Charlotte Buckton.’ He glanced at his guest for a moment. ‘Or was it Charlene? Or Charlayne?’ He turned back to Nicole before Miss Buckton could answer. ‘She is a writer of detective fiction researching her next novel.’

‘One of those mysteries with a desolate country house out in the wilds of Derbyshire or Yorkshire or whatever county we’re in here,’ Miss Buckton explained. ‘I must say there is plenty of scope in the household.’

‘Ah yes, the old disabled aristocrat and his pretty younger wife,’ Penn mused. ‘I wonder which of us is more likely to be murdered?’ He let the comment hang in the air for a moment before breaking into a smile. ‘Well, I have matters to attend to in my study. I will leave you to get acquainted.’

‘Will you be staying with us long, Miss Buckton?’ Nicole asked as they were left alone.

‘As long as it takes, your ladyship. It is the character of the place and the people who populate it that I seek to grasp. Your husband has been most accomodating on the subject.’

‘Really? How quite unlike him.’

She was distracted by the sudden entrance of Smith. In his new position, he had adopted a smarter uniform, a waistcoast and crisp white shirt with a pair of well-fitted dark trousers. The effect was so enchanting that Nicole thought for a moment she might swoon.

‘His lordship asked me t’ enquire if you ladies require any refreshment, your ladyship,’ he explained.

‘Not for the moment, Smith,’ Nicole replied. ‘I will call you if we do.’

Once Smith had headed out the door, Miss Buckton looked at Nicole with sudden interest. ‘That is Smith? The under gamekeeper-cum-footman?’

‘Yes, that is so,’ Nicole replied, surprised at the response. ‘How do you know him?’

Miss Buckton was already scribbling in her notebook. ‘Your husband mentioned him to me as a person of interest. For the story, I mean. I intend to keep a very close eye on him.’

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Oh! My dear Mr Ranger, sir, I have been quite carried away by story writing and gone into flights of fancy. I hope this chapter meets with approval of yourself and our esteemed readers.

*****

Over the next few days, Lady Nicole observed that Smith was shunned by the other servants. Whenever she saw him, he worked alone while the others stood apart. She heard whispers from the others every time he passed by, then giggles. But Romeo was above such intimidation, not responding in any way, she noticed proudly.

‘Tell me, Ruby,’ she accosted the maid one morning. ‘Why do people spurn Mr Smith the under gamekeeper-cum-footman?’ Out of breath after such a mouthful, she waited.

‘Well, ma’am- er- well, he is not like the rest of us,’ mumbled Ruby. The girl always seemed to be buttoning up her clothes, thought Nicole impatiently.

‘How so?’

‘It is well known that he was- he has- he is- a bastard, pardon my language, ma’am.’ She blushed.

‘That is incredibly rude!’ snapped Nicole. ‘I mean, to condemn someone for their parents’ sins.’

‘The Bible says, ma’am, the sins of the fathers are visited on the sons.’

Nicole paused. Her impure thoughts about Smith were hardly grounds for her to agree or disagree.

‘And also, ma’am, Smith uses words we don’t understand. He seems intent on book learning, we don’t hold with that below stairs. Book learning is for our betters, we don’t give ourselves airs and graces.’

So, Smith was an educated man, mused Nicole. She never shared intelligent conversation with her husband, or anyone else recently. Perhaps she should interrogate Smith about what he knew.

Meanwhile, the object of her affections was on an errand to the village. He had been sent by Copeland, to buy candles for the kitchen.

The tall, handsome Smith was aware of being scrutinised by everyone. Men sneered, matriarchs disapproved, young girls gazed admiringly at him.

On the way to the ironmongers, Smith passed a side street and by chance, looked in. He jumped in shock, and stepped back, but it was too late. He was whisked down the street by an unseen assailant.

At the village Post Office, Miss Charlotte Buckton prepared a telegram. Hunching over the paper, she concealed what she wrote with such subterfuge that it drew attention from the Post Mistress, Mrs. Leah Poulos- Patterson- Baker- Johnson.

‘Is everything quite to your satisfaction, Miss?’ asked Mrs. Poulos- Patterson- Baker- Johnson. She had been married so many times that she had amassed a huge fortune from her deceased husbands and therefore been able to buy and run the Post Office. Well, two of her husbands were deceased. The last one had disappeared in mysterious circumstances five years ago, and as such, was presumed dead, so all his effects had gone to his wife.

Miss Buckton jumped.

‘Oh, quite satisfactory, Madam.’ She wisely decided not to attempt to pronounce her companion’s full name.

Mrs. Poulos- Patterson- Baker- Johnson took the telegram from her, ready to transmit it. She noticed that it was addressed to an unfamiliar name. Rosetta? Was that Italian? Her well travelled husbands had told many a tale of foreign lands, and she was accustomed to strange names. But rarely were they found in Frankerley village and district.

‘Dear Sir STOP,’ She tapped onto the telegraph machine. ‘Your quarry resides in this area STOP. If you wish to detain him, come at once STOP. My payment is now due STOP. Charlotte Buckton STOP.

At the Manor, Nicole was restless. How dare the servants make fun of her Romeo’s unpopular background and attempts to better himself? A flame of defiance and anger grew in her breast and it smouldered with no attempt at smothering.

‘My dear,’ she said to her husband. ‘I think Mr Smith is rather above his duties as under gamekeeper-cum-footman. Is there another position which would suit him?’

Penn gave her a quizzical look.

‘Why do you think so? He is but an uneducated foundling, we have done quite enough in bringing him within our protection. To do more would provoke suspicion.’

Nicole did not reply, but the rebellion within her was not quashed.

Romeo found himself facing a gypsy couple in the side street. The man had a full moustache and beard, the woman was fully rouged and bulging out of her clothing. A formidable pair.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ asked Romeo, drawing himself up to his full height. ‘Dragging me off in such a way?’

There was an ominous pause.

‘Brother,’ said the man. ‘We simply come to ensure your safety. Our enemies are massing nearby. We must take you away to-‘

‘Take me away, Hugo? I have the best disguise possible. No one would suspect my real profession is-‘

‘Sh! Your tongue is loose.’ People were passing by.

‘Tell your fortune, missus?’ Marilyn called to them. ‘I see a tall, dark, handsome stranger in your life, young missy.’

The young girl giggled, glancing coyly at Hugo and Romeo, then was hustled away by her mother.

‘That is why we must always remain vigilant,’ said Hugo. ‘Spies are everywhere.’

‘Not a young girl such as that, surely?’ queried Romeo.

‘Quiet!’ barked Hugo. ‘As the senior member of the family, I insist you obey me in every detail.’

Romeo and Marilyn exchanged glances, mouthing ‘bossy’ at each other.

Later that day, Nicole by chance happened upon Romeo in the herb garden, trimming the topiary.

‘Not like that, you imbecile!’ shouted Copeland. ‘It should be shaped like a-‘

‘-****!’ interrupted Robbo, a rough garden hand.

There was a burst of laughter from the assorted maids, footmen and gardeners, who seemed to be assembled, enjoying the sunny day.

Nicole hid behind a thick hedge, to observe the activities. She felt herself getting angry again. They wouldn’t like her when she was angry….

‘Quiet!’ roared Copeland, shaking his fist. ‘Enough of that vulgarity.’

‘That’s not what Smith’s mother said to his father when he took her-‘

‘I said quiet!’ repeated Copeland, ignoring the gales of laughter.

Smith paused on the ladder for a moment, but then continued snipping. Nicole felt even more angry.

‘You’re a whore’s son and no mistake. Your mother was a streetwalker, your father a whore monger!’ shouted Robbo, who seemed to be intoxicated.

Romeo slowly climbed down the ladder and sauntered over to him.

‘Would you like to say that to my face?’

The audience jeered and laughed, commenting crudely.

‘I’ll say it to whatever part you like! You think you’re better than us, with your books and reading and-‘ he stepped up to Romeo aggressively and the crowd heckled.

Nicole marched out from behind the hedge.

‘How dare you behave like this?’ she shouted, as loudly as she could over the noise. The servants began to notice her and quietened down, muttering to each other.

‘Smith is risking his neck doing a task none of you others have the courage to! Then all you can do is mock him?’

‘But madam, he thinks he’s better than us!’ said Robbo.

‘In what way? Because he desires to educate himself? Learning about the world instead of remaining in ignorance? I would-‘ she stopped herself, afraid of revealing her feelings about Smith.

‘But madam, our families work in the mines hereabouts. Working at the Manor is a step up from that grimy, back breaking work.’ Copeland entered the fray. ‘Why does Smith need to make himself even higher than the rest of us?’

‘I’m sure you have misunderstood. Smith merely desires to be educated, not to put himself above the rest of you in any way.’

‘He does!’ shouted Robbo. ‘That bastard whoreson’s a blight on the whole Manor!’ He pushed forward, hitting at Romeo, but Nicole stepped in front of him.

‘Restrain yourself! You are heading for a severe reprimand by my husband, at the very least!’

‘But-‘

‘But nothing. Smith?’ she commanded.

‘Yes, m’lady?’

‘Please come with me. I have urgent work to be done and you are the man to do it!’ She grabbed his shirted sleeved arm and led him out of the herb garden. Furious, she strode towards the Manor. She did not entirely know what she intended him to do there, but she just wanted to get him away from the baying mob of servants and into her safe haven.

Far away, the recipient of the telegram studied it for a long time. He had to report this to Mr Palmer. If only he could go ahead without telling him, and capture the fugitive single-handedly. But it was not to be. Sighing, Rosetta summoned his carriage and drove away into the night.

He knew the terrible history of the Palmers and the Holdens- at least, what Mr Palmer had allowed him to know. The terrible accident at the mine, the scandalous accusations, the blood oath for gruesome revenge sworn by the Palmer family, and their sinister associates, the Walkers. It was all a boiling cookpot, ready to explode.

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