The Ladder: Part 1

by David Hodges

  John placed his hand over hers as she accepted the gift. His gaze was focused downward. He looked up at her for a moment with sadness in his eyes. “Goodbye, Hazel...” He turned and left before she could respond.

  Hazel was left standing there, processing what had just happened. John was leaving, and she felt something far from the relief she would have expected.

  3

  ALEXANDRA

  Alexandra lounged on her four-post bed. Blue and white Delft tiles decorated the papered walls. A marble fireplace burned. The smell of Harriett’s dinner reminded her of her hunger. “I wish they would just give me what you’re having.”

  “Oh, be patient, Alexandra, your dinner will be much better. I’m sure it’s worth the wait. Let’s gossip to keep the food off of your mind.”

  “I’ve got nothing to gossip about.”

  “Really, I find that hard to believe.” Harriett dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did you ask Cameron?”

  Alexandra knew that was what Harriet had meant by gossip. “I did, he said he would ask.” Alexandra sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to be so demanding of him.”

  Harriett left her dinner and sat beside Alexandra. “This is how it must be done...” she comforted her with a rub of her shoulder. “What about the titles?”

  “I told him to ask, he said he would, though it can’t be easy for him.”

  “I’m sure his uncle has left something to him. Mr. Lewin is so kind, the whole family is, they seem closer than most real families... pardon... I mean they seem so close despite Cameron and his sister being taken in.”

  “That’s because they are a real family, more real than mine.”

  “Your father is busy, and your mother, well... she’s just like any other preoccupied lady.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Suppose if this all works out with Cameron you could be seeing a lot less of them.”

  “I dunno, he still stands a tier if not two below what my mother would prefer.”

  “And your father?”

  “He likes Cameron, but he’s not particularly concerned with my courting. I’m afraid he’ll defer to my mother’s desires.” Alexandra dug her nails into the carvings of one of the bed posts. “If they don’t approve I won’t give up. I’ll continue to refuse any suitor my mother throws at me, I don’t care how rich or charming he is...”

  “Hushh...” Harriet put a finger to Alexandra’s mouth and whispered, “For three years you’ll do that? You know they’ll become more watchful of Cameron if you make your passions so evident...”

  Alexandra’s brass diminished.

  There was a knock at the door. A voice said from behind it, “Dinner will be served momentarily, Ms. Marlow.”

  Hazel rose from bed and walked to her door. “Good evening, Harriett.”

  Candlelight from an elaborate chandelier fell over a long mahogany table. Two girls, younger than Alexandra, sat at a table adorned with silver cutlery and fine glassware. A woman at the table greeted Alexandra. “Good evening, darling.”

  “Good evening, Mother.” Alexandra took a seat.

  Alexandra’s father walked into the room, his demeanor as serious as it would be were he meeting with his captains. Without a sincere tone of regret, General Marlow said, “Pardon my tardiness.” He took a seat at the head of the table. A hearth burned behind him.

  The servants commenced to serving the first course, which consisted of over a dozen dishes.

  “How was your trip, Father?” Alexandra asked as she scooped roasted vegetables onto her plate.

  A servant finished pouring a glass of red wine for her father. Her father looked down and lifted his glass as he said, “It could have gone better.” He took a gulp.

  “Was it military business?”

  “Yes,” he said with no intent of elaborating.

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear it. I was wondering about the companies leaving for Boston, how long will they be deployed?”

  “Until the war is over, and seeing as it’s only just begun, I would say that will be a fairly long time.”

  Alexandra was disheartened by the notion that Cameron could be deployed indefinitely should he purchase a commission. “Do you think it’s right? For us to war in the colonies?”

  “Is it right?” He took another gulp of wine. “That’s a dangerous question... it is necessary.”

  “What about the companies that aren’t deploying, what will they be doing?”

  Her father’s face lost expression as his gaze became distant. “Protecting the empire... the rebels are not our only enemies.”

  Mrs. Marlow chimed in, “Why don’t we change the topic? The girls don’t want to hear about war and politics. I haven’t talked to you all day, Alexandra. Were you out with Harriett before the ceremony?”

  “Yes, for a better part of the day.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Oh, the usual...” Alexandra lied, “we went for a walk this morning, did some shopping, then we left for the ceremony.”

  “Did you enjoy the ceremony? I saw you sitting with some of the other young ladies.”

  Alexandra lied again. “Yes, of course, it was a delightful spectacle.”

  “I thought so, too. You know, while I was there I got the chance to talk to Mrs. Marsden.”

  Alexandra’s stomach churned at the name. She refrained from rolling her eyes and maintained her composure. “Yes, I saw you chatting.”

  “Henry is doing well. He’s been promoted recently you know, to Captain. That’s not a common achievement.”

  I wonder who was responsible for that, Alexandra thought. “Is that so? I’m sure Mrs. Marsden is grateful.”

  Mrs. Marlow touched her husband’s arm. “We’re talking about Captain Marsden. He’s an admirable young man, isn’t he?”

  “Marsden...” her father was staring at the wood paneling on the walls. “Captain Marsden, yes, he’s a good soldier.”

  “Mrs. Marsden told me that he won’t be deploying, she’s so relieved. He was with you on business, wasn’t he?”

  Alexandra had observed Marsden’s absence at the ceremony; he had been working closely with her father lately. Everything pointed to an arrangement. She was infuriated at the thought that he was being groomed to match with her. Spared of a deployment, offered a promotion. If only Cameron could receive the same treatment with a commission.

  “Yes, he was,” said her father before taking a bite of bread.

  Her mother continued, “You know, Alexandra, I’ve been told he is quite fond of you. It’s a rare situation when such a good match has genuine...”

  “Please stop!”

  Her mother’s mouth hung open. Her fork and knife was frozen on a cut of veal.

  “I’m not fond of Marsden. As for his genuine interest in me, I doubt its sincerity. I’ve hardly given him the opportunity to know me, and I have no intention of doing so.”

  “Well perhaps if you gave him a chance...” Her mother’s voice was growing frillier than it already was.

  “My disdain for him would grow. He is shallow and pompous and that is obvious enough without even speaking to him.”

  “Alexandra, you’ve turned down every reasonable match in Leicester! What do you expect to find?”

  “I’m not trying to find anyone!”

  “What are you implying? Don’t tell me you’re still fixed on that Lewin boy?”

  Alexandra looked away.

  “They’re practically yeomen! His father spends half his time laboring, and that’s beside the point... his lineage is completely unknown, some accuse the family of baby farming!”

  Her father glared at his wife and shouted, “Quiet! You know as well as I that those accusations are false. The Lewins’ care for those children as well as any parents.”

  Alexandra latched onto her father’s display of compassion. “Father, Cameron hopes to purchase a commission. Would he be so unfit for my hand if he succeeded?”

  “Cameron is a good lad.” He set down his
silverware. “But that does not make him a suitable husband... not for you.” Marlow finished off his wine and uncorked the bottle in front of him. One of the servants rushed to his aid. He waved him off.

  Alexandra’s eyes watered. “And that I love him, does that have any influence?” her voice catching in her throat.

  Her mother shouted, “You’ve been seeing the boy, haven’t you! Alexandra! Haven’t you!”

  Tears fell from Alexandra’s eyes. What have I done.

  “Calm down...” General Marlow said to his wife as he rubbed his temples.

  Alexandra stood to leave the mess she had made. “May I be excused, Father?” she pleaded.

  “No. Stay here and finish your dinner.” He took a bite of his veal.

  Mrs. Marlow looked to her husband, aghast at his indifference. “Aren’t you going to scold her? She’ll ruin her reputation with this foolishness, you must do something!

  General Marlow silenced her with a stern gaze. “You would know, wouldn’t you? This conversation is over.”

  Her mother’s face paled, and she stared down at her plate.

  The Marlow family carried on eating in silence until a servant entered the dining room and said, “General Marlow, Captain Marsden requests your presence.”

  General Marlow nodded and stood. “You’re excused, go to your rooms.” He left the dining room.

  Alexandra and her sisters followed their father toward the foyer where he was greeting Captain Marsden.

  Marsden bowed to Alexandra. “Good evening, Ms. Marlow.”

  Alexandra ignored the gesture and hurried up the stairs.

  At the top of the staircase, she heard a piece of their conversation. “Cameron is on his way.” Alexandra stopped and continued listening, but she could not make out the rest of the conversation. They were walking away from the foyer.

  Alexandra went to her room and wondered why they were discussing him. Cameron had mentioned a delivery for her father, maybe Marsden saw Cameron on his way over? Alexandra went to her and waited, staring out at the front gate and brick walls.

  After a few minutes, she saw Cameron approaching. A pair of guards moved from behind the walls and were visible through the iron gate. They were talking with Cameron. He gave them a package.

  She had never seen guards posted at the gate. Her father had been acting strange since he returned from his trip. She thought of his response to the revelation of her relationship with Cameron, it hardly seemed news to him. She knew he had always respected Cameron and his family but her mother was right, she could ruin her family’s reputation. She connected her father’s indifference, Marsden’s presence, and the guards at the gate speaking with Cameron, and feared the worst. What if they had already known Cameron? What if the delivery was a trap?

  Just as the thought crossed her mind, Cameron left the gate unhindered.

  Alexandra sighed and loosened her grip on the window drapes.

  He rode out of sight, not in the direction from which he had arrived but to the side of the mansion. He must have been leaving a message for her with Harriet. She had to see him.

  4

  CAMERON

  Uncle George was preparing several large pieces of meat to be cooked for dinner. “It’s not doe’s meat, but we’ve got no shortage of good cuts.”

  “No, that’s certain,” said Cameron while he prepared the mutton. He had been rehearsing his request in his head since they began preparing their dinner. The thought of bringing up the will was crippling him. Was it really necessary? Of course it was. “Am I on your will, Uncle?” Cameron blurted out, much more bluntly than he intended.

  Uncle George turned to Cameron and set his knife down. “My will? Of course... you’re my oldest boy.”

  “But, Daniel... he’s your legitimate son.”

  “He is, and so are you. When I devised the will I set land to your name. I established a trust for Hazel as well. Did you expect less of me?”

  “No... no, I didn’t. It’s just... it’s so generous of you, and splitting up the land...”

  “Cameron, we have plenty to share between the three of you and as for generosity, responsibility would be a better description, I think.”

  “Thank you.” Cameron hugged his uncle.

  “Careful, you’ll soil my shirt,” he said with a smile.

  “Sorry!” He rinsed his hands in a pail of water.

  “Cameron... is there a particular reason you’re asking about this?”

  Cameron had forgotten the point of the conversation. “Yes, of course... what I meant to ask... was if you would lend me money for a commission.”

  “For the army! Why would you want to do such a thing?”

  Cameron did not expect this to be the hard part. “For Alexandra, I wish to propose to her, her father requires it.”

  “Marlow?” Uncle George looked concerned. “Cameron, I hate to discourage you, but you know they are noble?”

  “I know... but we are well off ourselves, though we may not act it... and the commission may make up for it. I’m on good terms with General Marlow, you know that, he’s always been a faithful customer. I don’t think it’s out of reach.”

  “He won’t approve,” said Uncle George with surprising certainty. He picked up his knife and continued slicing at the meat.

  “You truly believe he sees so little in me?”

  Uncle George shook his head apologetically. “No, Cameron, it’s not that. It’s just the way things are.”

  “We’re in love....”

  Uncle George sighed and held his knife still in the meat. “I don’t doubt that, Cameron, but marriage is not about love to these families, it’s business.”

  “I must at least try.”

  Uncle George closed his eyes for a long moment then opened them. “You’ve considered this fully?”

  “Yes, Uncle, it’s all that’s occupied my mind. I want this... I understand it’s no small sum.”

  “It’s not the money that concerns me, Cameron. If you’re certain, I’ll give you whatever you need.”

  “I am.”

  “Then we’ll arrange for the purchase.”

  Cameron hugged his uncle again. “Thank you, it’ll be worth it.”

  “Promise me one thing, Cameron.”

  “What is it?”

  “Should your application be rejected, you’ll move on from this... from her.”

  “I can’t make that promise.”

  Uncle George gave a slow nod. They continued butchering.

  After cutting the last of the loin, Uncle George said, “This will be plenty for tonight.” He spread salt and sugar over the remainder of the venison, then hung it high up over a small fire to smoke and dry.

  Cameron quickly cleared his cutting board and cleaned himself off. He was eager to finish his work at the shop and tell Alexandra the news. “Let’s hold off on letting Aunt Beth know about the commission. Her mind is busy enough getting ready for Hazel’s party. I need to go to the shop to finish an order.”

  “I reckon that’s best, make sure you’re back in time for dinner.”

  “Aye, I will.”

  Cameron sat in a disorganized room full of wood strips and tools. He turned a stone grinding wheel with one hand and with his other he held a bodkin arrowhead to the harsh surface. He turned the arrowhead slowly, making sure the point was thoroughly sharpened. He repeated this with dozens of recycled arrowheads.

  At a nearby table, a bundle of pine shafts needed to be tipped with the arrowheads. They had already been straightened, notched, and cut to a specified length.

  Cameron worked methodically to embed the arrowheads within the wood shafts. After he finished tipping the arrows, he proceeded to glue and trim dark goose feathers to the shafts. It was tedious work attaching the feathers by string with precise spacing and trimming them to a uniform shape and size.

  As he finished each arrow, he looked down the length of the shaft to check that it was completely straight. With a quick bend, he felt the spine to e
nsure that they all matched the weight of General Marlow’s longbow. He gave the glue a few more minutes to dry and prepared the packaging for the order. When it was ready, he carefully placed the arrows into the wooden box that was slotted to hold the arrows in place and prevent any contact with the feathers.

  Cameron walked to another room where a middle-aged man was examining a length of hemp bowstring. “Mr. Pegg, the Marlow order is ready. I’m going to make my way over there now. Do you want to take a look before I go?”

  “No, no, that’s not necessary Cameron. You ought to know that by now. Sometimes I wish your work was more imperfect, your arrows are a bit too durable for my liking.”

  Cameron laughed. “Alright, just wanted to be sure. Have a good evening.”

  “You as well.”

  Cameron walked outside to his horse and fastened the package behind his saddle. He departed for the Marlow’s town mansion on a cobbled road. The sun was just below the horizon as Cameron arrived at a town block that was sealed off with a red brick wall. Behind it stood a matching red brick mansion. At an iron entry gate lit by lanterns, two guards stood, armed with muskets and bayonets.

  “Oi! Who’s that!” shouted one of them.

  Cameron was surprised by the vigilance the guards displayed. He had never seen soldiers on guard at the Marlow mansion, only ones coming and going. “Cameron Lewin, I have a delivery for General Marlow.”

  The guard walked up to Cameron and gave him a quick look over. “Alright then, give us the package.”

  He dismounted and said, “General Marlow usually checks the delivery.”

  “Well he’s occupied right now,” said the guard.

  “Is something wrong? Can I speak with him?

  “I told you, he’s occupied. Are you going to give us the package or not?”

  Cameron resisted the urge to push the man aside and see what was going on. “Alright.” He undid the straps behind his saddle and removed the wooden box and handed it to the soldier. He pulled a piece of paper from his vest and gave it to him. “The receipt, let him know he can come by the shop to make the payment at his convenience.”

  Cameron mounted his horse and rode away from the gate. He turned the corner and checked ahead and behind to make sure no one was watching, then dismounted his horse. One length of the property’s perimeter was lined with staff quarters rather than the adjacent brick walls. In one of the windows, Harriett was sitting at a desk, her brow furrowed. Cameron tapped her window lightly.