“I am playing spy this morning.”
“On who?”
“The villagers. Can you get me there by dawn?”
Benoit felt confused. “Have they been poaching your deer again? I haven’t heard any such reports from the gamekeeper.”
“No. No they haven’t. I want to see what life is like for the common folk.”
“I would listen to your father’s advice and carry on leaving through the Southern gate… not doing so, may only rise tension.
Charles shrugged. “That’s why I’m wearing disguise and leaving early.”
“I think you’re taking a needless risk. Life is dull but they know better, my Lord. Stay here in your comfort.”
“How will their situation ever improve if people of means ignore them.”
Benoit warned his master. “Good intentions don’t produce the desired effect.”
“Well I want to see for myself.
~
Hidden by an autumnal mist, Benoit stopped his cart just before the road entered the village. Dressed as a drifter Charles left through the North gate and walked among the cedar trees towards the village. He shuffled with a haunch as he entered the narrow streets that were tightly packed with shambolic houses. But the further he walked the stronger the stench of the open sewer became. He felt overwhelmed and his stomach turned and flipped.
Glancing left to right he saw nothing but desperation and sadness. Half naked children played in the muck of the street while tramps fought dogs for the right to eat the half chewed corpse of a rat.
Charles’s heart sank, he had seen enough.
Feeling unable to carry on, Charles turned to walk back home but was met by a group of drunks. He avoided meeting their stares and attempted to walk pass. But a hand grabbed his shoulder and prevented him from walking away. Charles met the man’s eyes, and thought them dead. “What is it you want?”
“You are not a familiar face. What is your business?”
“I am but walking through.”
“What is your destination?”
Charles felt his heart racing. Despite the cold morning air, he felt his skin moisten with sweat. “London.”
“Then you must be a crank. You were heading North.”
“I was looking for an inn as my bones are tired and need rest.”
”You need to pay a tax to pass through these streets.”
Charles stepped back as he felt the tension rising. “I don’t wish to bother anyone.”
“We are bothered on a weekly basis by travelers like you. Robbing food, stealing belongings. You need to leave and never return.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do. But I have nothing to give you”
The thug grabbed hold of Charles’s by the collar of his overcoat. “Let’s see what secrets your pockets behold.”
“My pockets are but bottomless pits of emptiness.”
“We’ll be the judge of that.” The thug turned to face his gang. “Let’s frisk him boys.”
A female voice broke the stillness of the morning. “Arthur… let this man go. He is but a lonely traveler.”
“Pretty Annabelle. You have seen nothing here, but a pesky traveler causing us nuisance.”
“I see a gang of thugs fueled on ale abusing an innocent man. Now I suggest you go and tend the fields you are neglecting.”
The thug pushed Charles towards Annabelle, then fumed, “Annabelle. Why are you taking the side of this old fart?”
“Because I know what you are like. You might have a regal name, Arthur… but a name more fitting would be dung picker”
“Annabelle, a face like yours should not talk such nonsense.”
Wearing a frown, Annabelle barked, “I will ask the watchman to keep you in the stocks for good.”
Charles had not forgotten his hunch, and continued to play the part of lonesome traveler. He did his best to hide his dirt covered face with his thick woolen scarf. “I can’t thank you enough Madame, you are too kind and very courageous.”
“It angers me to see such injustice.”
“Me too. That’s why I know you have a good heart.”
”Do you have relatives here in Middlebrook?”
“I do not.”
Annabelle feeling curious took a fleeting glimpse of her strange companion. “You do look familiar and sound distinctive.”
“I do? You must be tired.”
“I’m fresh… I was just going to work… in fact it’s the way we are heading. Middlebrook Court.”
Charles glanced about as they had reached the outskirts of the village. Once he knew they were alone he untied his scarf. “I confess… the weary traveler drifts no more… as he is but me, Charles Farquhar.”
“My Lord… why did you risk getting hurt?”
“I came to see for myself where people such as yourself are raised. I must admit, I have never seen such squalor and suffering. Such baboonery too.”
Annabelle placed her hand on the back of her neck. “Squalor you may call it.” She shyly glanced at Charles. “But I don’t feel that I have suffered because of living here, for the most part, I have been happy.”
“But a pig is happy in mud.”
“My Lord, I may not have been born to such standards as you… but a pig?”
“I do not mean to call you fat and of low hygiene.” Charles turned to face an angered Annabelle. He smiled as he felt pleased that she possessed the spine to show her feeling. “I do not mean to call you fat and of low hygiene. “But one who knows not what he is missing, will not know what to look for.”
“We do have aspirations... some of us. But it’s more of a case of not possessing the means to achieve them.”
“Then I will take it upon myself to put in place improvements. I will make it my duty to see that the village has a school and a library.”
Annabelle let out a little screech, then covered her mouth with embracement. “That would be a great feat… and one which would surely make God smile on you.”
“I will then make sure that every man at least has a chance to find work within one of my collieries.”
“A job keeps an idle man from committing sin. Arthur is a case in point.”
Charles pulled at his collar. “A good example if ever there was one.”
~
The Duke and Duchess walked down the winding path which led from the mansion to southern gate of estate. The blue sky was free from clouds and the stands of trees were alive with birdsong. The chatter from the grounds men could be heard on the breeze while they busied themselves cleaning the lake. With his face lit by a cheeky smile, Charles placed a hand on Daniela’s shoulder. “I am walking with you, just like you wanted.”
“You are… it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
“Well then, you will be glad to hear what I have to say next then.”
Daniela took Charles’s hand. “What is that?”
“I promise to do this every day that I’m home. It’s good for my health as well as our marriage.”
“Thank you Charles. Spending time with you… It puts me at ease”
Charles’s noticed that Daniela failed to smile. “But I feel there is something else that is on your mind. To me , your spirit is still subdued.”
“I’m OK, Charles. It’s just a little hot today. I should have taken up Benoit’s offer of a parasol.”
Charles nodded, then glanced towards the blue and empty sky. “Even though it may be early autumn, it is a little stuffy today.” He led them both to a part towards the shade of the orchard. “We are a complicated lot, aren’t we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Never happy with what we have. Always wanting more.”
“I don’t follow. But feel that I have done wrong.”
Charles smiled to himself. He squeezed Daniela’s gloved hand while he spoke. “We moan about the rain, while wishing for sun. Then when it summer, we wish for respite from the heat. We’re never satisfied.”
“Yes. Quite true.”
“So y
ou’re not alone.” Charles picked up an apple from the ground. He buffed it on his sleeve before taking a bite. “Not alone at all. We’re noting but a load of miserable old buggers wanting more than what we already have.”
“I’m not miserable not really… I just want you to love me. Let me be the centre of your world… like you are mine.”
“But you are.”
“Make me feel that way, then.” Daniela felt herself choke on her sadness. “That why I want you to walk with me. So we can talk, ask each other questions. Show interest in each other’s lives.”
“OK.”
“I… fear admitting such things, because I know you work hard, and you think I a lazy lady of leisure”
“I do not.” Charles, wiped the back of his finger across Annabelle’s tear stained cheek. “What about your writing and illustrating?”
Daniela let out a sigh of frustration. “I need something to write about. But I’m lacking inspiration.”
“They always say that you should write about what you know?”
“That’s my problem. Other than being sad and lonely, what is there to write about?”
“About…”
Daniela stopped them walking so she could stare at Charles through her desperate eyes. “I want to be successful like you. I want to have something to talk about other than… well how miserable my existence is.”
“Now please. I don’t want you to use this walk to castigate me for an hour straight.”
“I know I said I wasn’t earlier… but I’m truly miserable.”
“You have no real reason to be.” Charles threw his half eaten apple onto the ground. “If you want to see true misery then go to the village… you’ll see what it is like to have nothing. ”
“There are many reasons one would feel as though they have nothing.”
Charles glanced towards the Mansion as he felt himself contemplate whether he should walk back. “Maybe there is some truth. But you have a life of comfort… even if this makes you feel empty.”
“I have a question for you. And I want you to be honest with me.
“I always am.”
“I saw you talking to the young maid yesterday morning, on the terrace. You looked excited… which obviously annoyed me. But what worried me more was that for the rest of the day your mind was elsewhere. Daniela took a deep breath to quell her anger. “I fear that you think nothing but her.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“Charles, don’t take me for a fool.”
“My mind was not caught up with thoughts of a good looking young blond.”
Daniela began walking away from Charles who began to follow. “Enough you dirty old man.”
“It’s more to do with the fact she has given me a few good ideas.”
“A maid… ideas. What has she inspired you to invent an automatic dishwasher or something?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course not. She would be putting women out of work”
“Charles.” Daniela stopped once more. She turned to scowl. “I never washed a dish myself… and don’t intend to either.”
“No. I’m obviously talking about the likes of Annabelle.”
“Oh, I see the wench has a name now.”
“Yes, as we all do.” Charles grabbed Daniela’s hand. “Annabelle likes to read, which made me think about the village. Apart from employing the villagers on our land and in the collieries, I think we should start educating them too.”
“You don’t want them to start thinking for themselves. That could be rebellious..”
“Hardly.”
“They might just start getting ideas. Like what happened in France.”
While wearing a proud smile, Charles folded his arms. “I was thinking of donating part of my collection to the village library.”
Daniela scoffed. “What library?”
“That’s just it. I will have to build one first.”
“That will cost money.”
“I have more than have enough.” Charles brushed Daniela’s fulsome cheek. “But then I thought, a library is not really sufficient. They need a proper school as well.”
“Great! Why don’t you just build them a bloody public bathhouse?”
“You know, what… you’re right. Thanks, Daniela.”
Daniela slapped her hands on Charles’s chest. “I wasn’t being serious.”
“Now, I just have to start planning the build.”
“OK, building a library is one thing. But how are you going to fund a bathhouse and school… why don’t you build a hospital while one is at it?”
Charles shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just going to have to pull in a few favors. I think it best that we host a charity ball to share the burden. But it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“A party. Finally, now you have my interest.”
~
Annabelle felt the sweat building up on her forehead as she buffed the surface of the long mahogany dining table. To her eyes she saw the table already looked polished, but Benoit had told that it needed doing, so she continued to buff until her reflection was as clear as a brand new mirror. But she suddenly came to a halt.
“Annabelle.”
Annabelle turned to see Charles standing in the doorway. “Yes, my Lord.”
“Do I look a little different from the drifter you rescued in the village.”
Annabelle’s eyes observed Charles’s fine clothes. “You do indeed.”
“Annabelle. I’m sure you will be pleased with this news.”
“You have news for me?”
“Yes. Me and the Duchess will be holding a charity ball this Friday. It will aim to gain funding for the library and school that I mentioned the other day.”
“You’re keeping your word?”
“Of course!” Charles sounded annoyed that she doubted his promise. “My word is cast iron. What I saw brought great shame on me.”
“Why would it bring shame on you?”
“These people, these villages. They are the ones who bring me my wealth… yet I have abandoned them. It’s time I came good.”
“Well…” Annabelle felt emotional and wasn’t sure what to say. “I do believe you will be rewarded for your kindness.”
“Also, Annabelle, there was one other reason why I wanted to see you.”
“Yes?”
Charles smiled as he handed over a small hardback book. “I wanted to give you this.”
“What is it?”
“A book.”
“I know it’s a book.”
“It’s titled, Pamela. It is popular novel by Samuel Richardson.” The delight on Annabelle’s face caused Charles to melt inside. “It’s yours to keep.”
“Really?”
“Of course it is. And it’s a privilege for me to give you your first ever book..”
“I never thought it would be possible…” Annabelle thought that she had never felt such emotion. “…to have my very own book.” She suddenly felt faint and rocked on her feet.
“I chose it because the heroine reminds me a little of you…” Charles suddenly leapt to catch a fainting Annabelle. Holding her in his arms, he gently rested her on the floor. He then called for Benoit while he rested her head on his rolled up jacket. “I wonder what the bloody hell would happen when you actually read the damn thing.”
~
The yellow and gold flames painted the small and simple room in shadows. Annabelle felt engrossed in the words of her book. So much so, that the spluttering snores of her father hadn’t affected her. But she then lifted her eyes from the page of her book as her father suddenly stirred from his sleep. “You finally woke?”
“Oh, I didn’t hear you get back?”
“I have been back an hour.”
Jacques turned his head to face his daughter who was sitting on her bed reading from her book. “Then I must get up and heat up your stew.”
“I spotted it upon my return and ate… It’s good that you found such deep sleep. It must mean that the pai
n in your leg is fading.”
Jacques carefully touched his leg. “Aye, I suppose it felt a little better today.” He then gingerly stood from the fireside chair. “Still, I don’t think it’ll ever be what it once was… unfortunately.”
“Do you need help getting up, Papa?”
“No. I just need to wet my lips.”
“You sure?” Annabelle felt a little skeptical. “I can get it for you.”
“Yes. I have to use my legs or I’ll lose them. “
“You’ve always been too brave for your own good”
“Funny. That’s exactly what your mother used to tell me.” Using his walking stick, Jacques, slowly walked across the room until he reached a large bucket that sat on a worktop. “So, I see you suddenly have a book that isn’t the bible. “Picking up a wooden drinking vessel, he dunked into the bucket of water. “I wish I learned to read.”
“It’s not too late.”
“It is, I can barely see the end of my nose... all those years in the darkness of the mine.”
“Maybe I could read it to you.” Annabelle held the book against her chest. “If you want.”
“That’s a good idea, Annabelle.” Jacques greedily drank from the wooden cup. “I must admit I’m tempted to feel disgruntled that you would fork out for a fancy book when not too long ago we struggled to eat.”
“Papa.”
“But must hold my tongue… as I know you have been through the mill and deserve something special.”
“But Papa.” Annabelle jumped from the bed. “It didn’t cost a penny.”
“You didn’t steal?”
“The Duke gave me the book.”
Jacques placed his cup on the worktop and hung his head. “What does he want from you in return?”
“He asked for nothing.”
“Don’t give me that.”
“But he is a good man.” Annabelle felt shocked at her father’s reaction. “I don’t know what you mean, Papa.”
“He is a libertine. Be weary.”
“He is not, though is he? He is an industrialist. A good man who tells me of his plans for this village.”
“His foremen at the colliery are always full of promises . But when my leg was crushed they did bugger all.”
“Maybe I can mention you to him… I seem to have his ear.”
“All you have is his eye.” Jacques pointed his boney finger towards a distressed Annabelle. “No. You will not say a word. You hear?” He then barked. “Not a word.”
ROMANCE: CLEAN ROMANCE: Summer Splash! (Sweet Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (New Adult Clean Fantasy Short Stories) Page 100