by B L Bierley
Eric laughed at her peculiar warnings concerning his personal life and nighttime entertainments. Red gown, in particular, was a subtly put clue that made him shudder involuntarily when he realized what that might mean. Was he supposed to choose a woman in a red gown or avoid one?
It made him curious now for the ball he would attend the weekend prior to the Easter holiday. In his mind Eric envisioned a roomful of women all wearing brilliant red gowns. He actually laughed out loud at the preposterous inconclusiveness of the clue.
His humor left him when he considered her information about writing to him regularly. Her loyal friend, whom she wrote about keeping her secrets, was a male. The pronoun didn’t lie. Somehow this information made Eric feel surly for no reason he could figure.
Still, the thought of receiving other letters from Lady Bliss gave him hope and a bubble of excitement that couldn’t be explained away either. Eric knew he would look forward to the mail deliveries if for no other reason than to see news from Cardiff, via Lady Bliss.
Carefully folding the pages back to their original form, Eric tucked the letter into the inside pocket of his coat and hurried to get to his morning lecture.
Surprisingly enough, the warnings from Lady Bliss held more merit than even Eric wanted to give them credit. Whenever he started to make a decision, the worded warnings would flicker in his mind like a candle lighting his path.
On more than one occasion, due directly to her uncanny foresight, he’d avoided a terrible consequence that many of his fellow classmates suffered from their improper actions. He served to guide as many of them as he could, but without getting too close personally it was difficult to impart sage wisdom.
The choice concerning the red gown was vastly amusing. Every social situation he attended would find Eric searching for a woman wearing a red gown. But for whatever reason there weren’t any colors in the fabrics of the season that year that even remotely resembled a shade of red.
Eric hadn’t yet been able to satisfy his physical desires fully, and paying for a favor was also out of the question. Not only did he have Bliss’s cryptic warnings but also a few from his father. Keen warnings about the diseases of the body that plagued young gentlemen who dallied with the wrong sorts of women rang like a funereal tone in his head whenever he just considered the idea.
Primarily he focused on exercising his mind more than flexing his masculinity, that way his virginity held no power over him. Still, you couldn’t will away arousal in its insipid forms.
The fact that Lady Bliss urged him somehow about a red gown initially meant to Eric that she was warning him away from women altogether. After a week of not seeing any sort of red gowns, he laughed at how silly it was for him to heed the advice of a young, infatuated girl on anything concerning his un-forged love life! But her advice came alarmingly to fruition the week before Easter as indicated.
Master Donald Crandall, a very affluent young man from a well-heeled yet untitled family, invited Eric to attend a private house party with him near Hertfordshire. Eric accepted, believing the invitation would bring him further forward in the world of privilege and wealth.
Upon arriving at the estate, Eric soon learned that the young gentlemen were up to no good at all. Debauchery of every sort was on the agenda for the weekend. Several professional women, wearing all sorts of colorful, yet ill-concealing attire, hovered hungrily all around the house and grounds. Again, none of them wore anything definitively red.
Eric began rethinking Lady Bliss’s warning about the red gown. Arguments that none of the women wore anything he would necessarily call a gown provided only flimsy justification for his weak celibate thoughts.
His mind and body were clearly at war with one another over the prospect of stepping into the physical world of pleasure. But when Crandall pulled him aside and asked him to choose between two specific doves, his answer was clear.
The two women presented were as different as iron and wood. One of the girls wore a stunning satin and bead ball gown in a lovely shade of emerald green. In her blonde hair a fluffy peacock feather bobbed delicately every time she nodded or tilted her head.
Her face was perfectly, though heavily painted, and her body was voluptuous and inviting. The woman’s voice was velvety, and her lips promised all manner of wickedness without saying a word. Eric could see how easy it would be to choose the very pretty woman in the green dress.
The other woman wore a startlingly plain, conservative gown, with hardly a frill or an adornment to be seen. Her dark hair was knotted simply in a chignon, sleek but unfashionable by comparison. Her body lacked curves, and she had nothing enticing in her demeanor.
Careful scrutiny of her face showed slight imperfections beneath a dusting of powder. It looked to Eric as though she had been cursed with a most unfortunate complexion. He could plainly see it wasn’t a case of any type of pox or disease, merely pimples. The woman also looked more wary than her companion, a shy, modest girl among the revelers.
What stood out most to Eric was the exact color of the dark-haired woman’s dress. It was the brightest shade of red he’d seen in months! When Crandall hinted that the ladies were the only pair left un-attached for the weekend, Eric had no scruples whatsoever in extending his arm to the less attractive woman in the red gown. This startled both women and even more so the much-less-attractive Crandall.
Crandall scoffed at Eric, saying his tastes must be decidedly depraved if he would choose such a shapeless stick over a beauty. Eric merely smiled over his shoulder as he escorted his choice toward the dance floor.
As it turned out the woman was surprisingly new to Hertfordshire. Her name was Drusilla. Admitting to having been duped by a lover and having no better prospects or options when her family died unexpectedly, she confessed how she chose to attend with her cousin, a seasoned companion, to make up for the loneliness of being a ruined spinster.
Drusilla was not a working girl like Celeste, the girl in the green gown, but simply a relation of the painted dove. Celeste brought her along to attend the party in the hope of finding her a benefactor instead. But Eric clearly saw her shudder when she hinted that crowds like the house party were not above changing partners midway through the weekend if they so desired according to her worldly cousin. Drusilla explained how she didn’t like the idea of having to match up with unknown gentlemen.
Eric told her simply that he held no expectations and wouldn’t demand anything from her that she didn’t freely wish to give. This made her laugh. Drusilla coyly reminded him that, in her current dire straits nothing was free for her to give.
Eric colored and asked how much trouble she would get into if she didn’t manage to find a benefactor. She told him unless she could bring in enough to cover her past-due lease she might be forced to submit to an unsavory spate of partners in a brothel in order to make enough to avoid debtor’s prison.
Eric felt compassion for the woman. For Drusilla to suffer for her circumstances didn’t sit well with him. In the back of his mind he felt heavy guilt over what he was considering doing, especially when it was Lady Bliss’s warning that led him to choose this particular woman. If she hadn’t warned him, he likely would have just declined both women due to his lack of funds for such entanglement.
It wasn’t unheard of for men of his age and profession to have a mistress. But Eric hadn’t the fortune of a wealthy father to support such habits. Intending to help, he gave Drusilla every shilling he could spare.
When Eric asked if it was enough to help her avoid difficulties, Drusilla said it was more than enough. But then she refused the money when she realized he wasn’t planning on being intimate for the price.
“How is that fair to you? You’re posting the cole while I’m the only one reaping a reward. Am I so repulsive you wouldn’t want a tumble with me? Much as I like you, sir, I’m not so ugly that I require charity,” Drusilla said, clearly disgruntled.
“Oh, no! I didn’t mean to be disrespectful to your person. I was just trying to b
e a decent fellow.” Eric blushed.
“Well, sir, even decent fellows get a tickle now and then. And really, you’re a young fellow in good health! Honestly, a gal could do a lot worse than the likes of you.” Drusilla’s face looked prettier with her teasing smile. Eric blushed and reminded her that he was a lowly medical student without family funds to support a mistress. Drusilla waved off his concern.
“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we just pretend it’s my birthday? We can say that the money is just taking place of a gift since you had no idea what to buy for me? Then we can find a place to be alone and enjoy each other’s’ company for a weekend, okay?” Drusilla offered in a low seductive tone.
The offer was tempting. Shrugging off the sense of discomfort he felt in knowing the situation was deemed allowable however circuitously by young Lady Bliss, Eric succumbed to the temptations of a willing woman for the first time.
Chapter Six
Bliss, ages eighteen to twenty-one, London, 1808-1811
The season of Bliss’s debut was upon her. The five years following her initial correspondence with Eric hadn’t turned out quite as well as she hoped they would.
Eric never once wrote back. Even on his infrequent visits home, there was little contact between them other than the usual civilities between a client and a surgeon called upon to avert some medical emergency or crisis.
Another year went by, and Eric’s visits ended abruptly when he graduated and began a thriving practice in Bristol with the town’s newest hospital. But worse than that was news received on a morning in early February of 1809 that devastated her. It was the first time in recorded history that her useful foresight ever failed her.
Dr. Benchley, Eric’s esteemed father and Bliss’s most esteemed friend, had been killed in a horrible accident. The event took place on the bridge overlooking the bay. Two equipages, one a stage and the other Dr. Benchley’s curricle, had collided when the horses pulling the stage had been frightened by some unknown cause.
The stage occupants were trapped, and Dr. Benchley, despite his injuries, managed to help three of the people to safety before the carriage dumped into the bay.
The news was incredibly disturbing for Bliss, stemming from the fact that she’d neither seen the event coming nor been able to divert her beloved friend from his death. For several weeks he was utterly inconsolable. Her father suggested at one point that they take a trip to Bath to restore her.
Bliss declined and put on her best efforts to remain at Penwood Manor Estate in order to see Eric when he arrived for the memorial and burial. But the event came and went without giving her a chance to offer him any words of comfort. Eric remained aloof and stalwart in his grief, barely acknowledging any of the efforts that anyone made toward him.
Too soon the Penwood household was abuzz with the upcoming St. Patrick’s Day Ball Luxie held every year. Bliss’s debut was scheduled for the week prior to the ball in London, after which she would receive guests and potential suitors at home in Cardiff by invitation to the two-week party.
The impending season held no charm for her. She navigated the balls and parties that year with the stoic presence of a martyr. Bliss never held on to her melancholy for very long, though. But she would never completely get over the loss of her cherished friend who would have eventually become her father-in-law.
The next three years played out exactly as expected. Bliss and her eldest sister had debuted the same year, but no offers were made for either girl. Merryann suffered from painful shyness and speech difficulties every season that rendered her literally mute when it came to strangers. The fact that Merryann was older and still unmarried took some of the pressure off of Bliss’s need to settle down. Not that their parents were pushy about marriage.
Lord and Lady Penwood had eloped to avoid Luxie’s father’s harsh edict that she would have to marry her intended fiancé. The situation was further complicated by the fact that Lady Luxie’s younger sisters were long engaged and forced to wait for their older sister’s marriage before they themselves could marry.
Therefore, due to the unusual and unorthodox courtship of her parents, it was not a condition for Bliss to wait for her older sister’s matrimonial success in order to marry herself. Already knowing her fated path, Bliss instead used interim time and took great pleasure in causing quite a stir among the ton with her subtle matchmaking.
Most of the time her antics were the direct result of her uncanny ability to steer men into the path of their intended destinies with little fuss or evidence that she was even involved. But it didn’t take much time for her to be singled out as the missing link between the reluctant men and matrimony.
The St. Patrick’s Day Ball of 1811 proved the theory to even the most doubtful. Bliss was standing near the refreshment table, sipping a glass of sherry when Lord Attinger appeared beside her.
“Lady Bliss, how delightful it is to see you,” the middle-aged gentleman exclaimed the moment he realized who his neighbor was.
“Good evening, my lord. How are you enjoying our fine party?” Her eager smile caught him a little short.
“Um, it’s quite splendid as always. I noticed you danced with Captain Lorring’s son earlier. He is quite upset. What exactly did you tell him that has him deep in his cups before nine-thirty?” Lord Attinger asked with a wary look.
“I only said he was lucky to have Lady Stilton’s affection. She’s quite the catch this season, you know? Apparently he didn’t agree with my pronouncement. But I suppose some people are reluctant to accept the path they’re given. It’s unfortunate that he took umbrage with me. Lady Stilton is a lovely woman with a decidedly firm family fortune. He could do much worse,” Bliss added with a sigh.
Lord Attinger choked on his port. When he finished sputtering and coughing, he asked her bluntly, “Is he to be married? When? I hadn’t heard any announcements?”
“There haven’t been any. I merely pointed out that she was quite fond of him, and he considered it a sentence of nuptial death. Honestly, you gentlemen are a troublesome bunch, the lot of you,” Bliss chuckled.
“The lot of … surely you don’t mean to imply that I have a similar … No, no, please don’t say a word, my lady! I beg you!” Lord Attinger began backing away in haste. He nearly crushed the foot of a man as he made his retreat in earnest.
Lem, the man of the endangered appendage, clucked his tongue in polite teasing as the frightened lord hurried off in the direction of the veranda. Bliss looked up, her face a mask of innocence.
“What have you been up to, my lady? Scaring off the local swains with premonitions of their intendeds again, are we? Tsk, tsk, that’s not very sporting of you,” Lem said as he bowed over her hand. Bliss looked around for Lettie.
“Where is Mrs. Lemuel Murphy tonight? Feeling a mite peckish these days? Well fear not, my friend. The happy day is well beyond your next contract with the publisher so you’ll have the necessary funds to line the nest!” Bliss said in happy triumph.
“And now I expect you want me to ask you again if the new member of my young family is a boy or a girl? Well, fie upon you! I wouldn’t even if you begged me. I’m perfectly content with both of my little girls! I couldn’t give a ripe fig whether it was a boy or not. I merely wanted to ask if the child will be healthy,” Lem said with little sincerity to hide his burgeoning curiosity.
“Of course the baby will be in excellent health. But the name will cause a bit of bother. A word of advice, choose the namesake carefully this time, it could have a windfall effect if the godparent gets proper respect.”
Bliss didn’t budge an inch. The subject of children, gender in particular, was a curiously satisfying secret to keep. Bliss was privileged to know most outcomes nowadays with unfailing accuracy, but telling them would take all her informed teasing away. And where was the fun in that?
Lem and Lettie’s oldest daughter was christened Leticia Bliss, in honor of his valued friendship with her. But she knew he harbored a burning desire to have a son an
d heir to his growing fortune.
Lem proved himself a worthy author of prose in the past three years. The Bradshaw’s and Murphy’s both benefited from his good fortune each time a new book received its due in the bookmaker’s stacks. And his witty stories were among some of the most favored titles in England.
Bliss was secretly itching to tell him that he would have a son at last, but she kept it to herself because she didn’t want to spoil the joy of the moment for Lettie. The mother deserved to reveal the baby boy after the harrowing ordeal of a difficult labor
Lem laughed at her avoidance, knowing that no information on his child’s sex would escape his knowing friend. Instead, he turned the topic toward her still non-existent betrothal.
“Is your future groom among us this evening?”
“Sadly, no. I’m growing tired of waiting for fate to show me favor. I shall run mad soon if things don’t look up,” Bliss said in playful drama. Lem laughed again.
“Perhaps the subject of my next story should include a character with your strange dilemma? It would be all the rage!”
“You wouldn’t dare! Besides, I already see your next conquest! You will love the tale when it unfolds. I’m practically drooling already in anticipation,” Bliss said with a knowing look.
Lem’s eyebrows shot upward. This news was welcome to him after having suffered a drought of writing fodder. He felt instantly more at ease.
“I could always count on you, Bliss, to pick me up when my genius fails me! You are invaluable among men and priceless in the world of women,” he told her genuinely.
“You never could trust yourself to do what you’re destined! I only give you the necessary nudges when the time calls for it. But I need to go find Merryann. Please excuse me and give my warmest regards to Lettie! Tell her I look forward to her next big event!”
“I certainly will. It was a pleasure seeing you again,” Lem replied with a grin. He bowed respectfully and winked as she nodded and turned to leave.