Wine of the Gods 08: Dark Lady (23 page)

Tuesday, June 30, 3493 AD

City of Arrival
, Arrival

Liz hurried down to the entry of the baron's town house – a mansion smaller than Baron Weigh's in Jeramtown, but still quite large enough for any ten families.

This was it. Time for the big show down.

The Baron was looking fiendishly pleased as he motioned her to stand beside him.

Poor old Mr.
Wiggins, temporarily standing in for the baron's Major Domo, who would be traveling with the baroness was trying hard to look formal. He threw open the front door and then retreated.

Baroness Millicent Debrois Jameson of East Heights swept into the entry hall like a small thunderstorm. "So. I see the rumors of you having taken a mistress are true. And no shame about it, either!" She advanced on Liz,
her hand rose to slap.

Jameson intercepted, grabb
ed her wrist and placed papers in her hand.

"This is a Bishops' Council's Writ of Annulment. You are not and never have been, my wife."

Everyone stopped dead for a long moment.

"I have had the dower suite made up for your use, while you consult lawyers and no doubt your brother. The children will keep their usual rooms. I will speak to each of them privately." Jameson's teeth showed in a nasty smile. "And now may I introduce Lady Elizabeth Jameson, my daughter by my first—and only—wife?"

"How. Dare. You."

"Madam, with the greatest pleasure I've had since you started giving birth to children who not only failed to look anything like me, but were born nine months after extended absences of mine."

Liz could see the baroness's, the former Baroness's, staff falling back and some over-dressed youngsters moving forward. A hulking teenager, pale haired and red faced was first. "What are you talking about? You are divorcing Mother?" He tried hard to loom, but his height and bulk were betrayed by his basic youth and softness.

"No. The marriage was never valid."

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to disinherit me?"

"Raulph, it is not your fault that you were born seven months after I was married unwillingly to your mother, whom I had never met before our wedding day. You may be sure that you will be taken care of suitably."

"Suitably! You are disinheriting me." His head jerked up and he glared at Liz. "For her."

"More likely for your brother."

"What!" He swung around on the other youngsters crowding up behind him.

The two girls were also fair haired and tall for their ages, which Liz guessed at twelve and fourteen. A younger boy, this one with brown hair and a smaller frame was looking stunned, and backed hastily away from his siblings sudden attention.

"Why you little . . . "

"Raulph." The Baron snapped, and waited unti
l the older boy turned back to face him. "You have been a bully whenever you could get away with it. You can no longer get away with it. Now." He looked over at the servants. "Take Lady Millicent's luggage to the dower suite. Put the children's in their usual places. Children, please join me in my office." Millicent bristled. "Madam, send for your lawyer. I am sure that your children will let you know what arrangements I am making for them. Come."

The office and library were long side-by-side rooms, connected by an
arch and both with windows overlooking the garden.

"Now. Here are the facts. I married at the age of eighteen, in church with all the appending paperwork.
Upon our return from our honeymoon my father abducted my wife. He paid the priest who had preformed the ceremony to destroy the paperwork and forget it ever happened.

"My wife was threatened. I was made to believe that if I did not marry as my father wished she would be killed. If I complied, she would also be married, to salvage her reputation." His lips thinned. "I married. Now it appears that the priest had a guilty conscious and confessed all in his diary. The Bishop's Council are appalled. My coerced marriage is dissolved. Unfortunately you—and my Lucy's other children—will be bearing the brunt of this shameful episode.

"It's not our fault!" The older girl burst out.

"No. It's not. Be assured that your dowry is safe, and should you have other ambitions, education or whatever, those will have my support as well."

"But, you said, " The older boy's glare shifted from his father to his younger brother.

"Yes. I really didn't care that your mother had a lover, she'd been forced into th
is marriage as much as I had—pregnant by a married man, she was desperate for any marriage. But I kept a diary, too. And I knew I hadn't fathered either of her next two children, either. I . . . worked to ensure that I was
probably
the father of her fourth child. And I really did try to be a good father to all of you. Raulph, the lord knows I've spent time with you, walked, talked, and played. Lectured and yelled. But you still bully, still abuse the power of your position. Perhaps without your position, you will finally grow up, show some maturity, and be the man I've always hoped you would be. But until then, I will not be petitioning for a declaration of legitimacy for you."

Raulph got even paler.

"Felix, you are only eleven, and have a lot of growing and maturing to do. You will live with me, with or without your siblings. Most likely you will be my heir."

"What about
her
?" The older girl was scowling at Liz.

"Elizabeth will be marrying next year. I will be bestowing a suitable dowry and gift upon her and her husband."

"That's
our
money." Her voice was a high indignant protest.

"No. Your dowries are untouched. Now. I expect your mother is curious about this meeting, and might possibly need your support. You may go."

Liz shivered and rubbed her arms as the other four left.

"Liz, don't feel sorry for them. Well, Felix, perhaps. But Millicent has raised them to be spoiled brats, and this may be what is needed to turn them into decent human beings. Even Raulph. He's a month older than you, and very much in need of growing up."

"Now, the next few days will no doubt be unpleasant, so feel free to try to avoid everyone except at meals."

There was a tap on the door, followed immediately by the entrance of an expensively suited butler.

"Yes, Mr. Hodgens?"

"The lawyers are here, sir."

"How many?"

"Eight, sir. I understand that Lord Harold Debrois is en route."

"Excellent. Send them in, and Lord Debrois when he arrives." The Baron smiled at Liz. "Stay and be introduced."

And then try to not look like I'm running away.

Felix sported a black eye the third day.

Her father noted it and said nothing. In the evening Raulph missed dinner.

Susan and Katherine were quiet throughout, and Liz chatted quietly with her father, sticking strictly to discussing the news she'd read in the newspaper
the baron had delivered every day.

"I'm surprised there hasn't been more about the Arbolian troop movements, or had they gone home and become un-newsworthy before we got back from Jeram?"

"They packed up and departed smartly, due to their poorly disciplined troops running amok in one of their own towns. The news was old and stale by the time we got here. Of course, the details would never be published. King Mark has no desire to alarm people over something he's already dealt with." A quick flash of a smile. "And Prince Kurt, of course. I spoke to a number of people in Jeramtown. The only ill I heard spoken of him involved some old woman who blamed him for the state of her floor. I didn't quite understand how that came about."

Liz smiled, remembering the feisty old lady. "The Arbolians put their sappers to work on the west wall. One of them came up in Miss Frouth's kitchen. There was quite a battle, with Prince Kurt down underground, and, well. The floor hasn't recovered."

Susan was sitting up, wide-eyed. "You met Prince Kurt? He's so
cute
, I've seen him in parades." Her face fell. "But he was injured . . . in Arbolia."

"Yes. He's been dedicating himself to the Army since he recovered." How much to say in front of these two?

"I was impressed." The baron looked thoughtfully at Felix. "Pity he's got himself crosswise to the Church, or I'd be holding him up as an example for you to follow."

Liz sighed. A year and a day. They'd given him the longest sentence possible for telling the truth.

Friday, July 3, 3493 AD

City of Arrival, Arrival

It was two days before Kurt got back to the cluster with the extremely old person he had
not
met. To his surprise, the cluster had been modified to serve a single man.

". . . just, for Christ sake let me sleep, you stupid woman!"

Kurt choked as he stripped the bed, and failed to resist a peek into the next room. The skinny old man was stark naked, and the starched stiff woman had her chin up and was refusing to be intimidated.

"That's our orders, sir. You're to be woken up every four hours and fed, and you must stay awake during the day and exercise your mind."

"Don't call me sir! I'm your husband, not that you have the faintest idea what that means, you icicle."

"Now, sir. You know that we have a
holy
and
reverent
marriage, above all common. . .

"Hogwash! Come to bed, woman!"

That
sent her stomping out.

The old man made a beeline for the door and surprised Kurt.

"God damn it! First chance I get to catch up on my sleep and here you are stealing my blankets!"

Kurt hastily whipped one out of the bundle and spread it on the bed. Fortunately there was no problem of incontinence here.

The old man stretched out and pulled half the blanket back over himself. "Go away. Don't come back without some wine, or at least a pack of cards."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but the old man was already snoring.

***

The old man's laundry was washed once a week. It took nearly that long for Kurt to hunt down a bottle of wine. He hadn't discussed the old man with Father Miles. He'd limited himself to questions about his missing knife and purse.

"You won't need them, Kurt. This is neither a battlefield nor a marketplace."

Kurt refrained from mentioning that the Church had failed a test of trust. He had, after all, expected the search.

He ran into Ferrit regularly. He chatted and tried hard to not lead the boy into any worse error than mocking his parish priest. The boy's last month was up quickly and he missed the cheerful lad.

The question of a priest with a wife, however reverential and non-physical puzzled him. Celibacy had come and gone from the requirement
s of priesthood in the Church. It had been four hundred years since a priest could marry, and while the old man could be that old, the stiff and starched woman hadn't looked like either a wife, nor particularly aged. Kurt figured the wine might get a few answers.

Unfortunately the old man was 'having a bad day', glassy eyed and incoherent, mumbling about wives and sleep and blaspheming with every sentence. Kurt took his wine away, and hid it with his flask. Perhaps next week. And perhaps he should add a bit of the Lady's healing wine to the bottle.

Thursday, July 9, 3493 AD

City of Arrival, Arrival

". . . so you needn't put on airs, we'll have you out of here fast enough." Lady Susan was almost fifteen.

"My dear, you do such a wonderful sneer." Liz smiled over at her, trying to find some bit of humor in there.
Anything
that she could be sympathetic with.

Susan scowled. "Oh sure.
You
think it's funny. For us it's an absolute disaster. Even with a declaration of legitimacy our marriage prospects are
sunk
. I was going to be a Baroness. Now I'll probably have to accept marriage to some assistant cowherd."

"Do you know many young men?" Liz asked. "Not that many would be brave enough to marry against their father's wishes."

"Mitchell would." Katherine muttered.

Her older sister rounded on her. "Oh, just you wait until his parents hear about this. You'll never see him again."

"Thirteen is a bit young to be making plans, isn't it?" Liz eyed the younger girl and wondered who Mitchell was.

"Most likely." She retreated back into a sullen silence.

"Do either of you ride? I've been going out in the park nearly every day. Would you like to join me?"

Katherine glared. "We left so fast, we didn't have time to order our horses to be brought to town."

Liz was finding the life of a Lady to be highly unsatisfactory. At least in this household. Once the regular staff had arrived, Liz was no longer welcomed in the kitchen, her laundry returned stained and smelling of damp mold. Thank goodness she hadn't had very much that needed washing, yet.

She dreaded having a confrontation with the laundry maid, but it was going to have to happen. Her father had given her permission to dismiss any staff she need
ed to. Putting it off wasn't going to make anything any better.

She got up and walked out, heading for the very nice guest suite she was occupying. She heard a ripping noise as she reached for the door handle, and walked in to find her maid with a ruined blouse in her hands.

The maid smirked.

"You are dismissed. Come with me, to see Mr. Hodgens for your pay. No doubt Lady Millicent will give you a letter of recommendation."

"You can't do that."

"Unfortunately for you I can. Move your nasty ass or I'll kick it down stairs." Liz herded her out the door and down the stairs.

"I was only doing what the baroness told me to do!"

"Indeed. You should get a glowing letter of recommendation from her."

Mr. Hodgens straightened with a frown.

"Miss Gladis is incompetent to launder garments, but excels at deliberately ripping them. Settle up her pay and have her off the premises within the hour. And
if
you can find a competent laundress and a competent seamstress, send them to me." Liz nodded coldly and walked out.

Mr. Hodgens had been present when Liz was given authority to dismiss and hire. Now he had better pass the word along to the rest of the staff, or he'd have none at all.

In the mean time Liz gathered up all her laundry and marched out the front door. She walked, backtracking from memories of carriage rides to a public laundry, and handed over the bundle and coin. She wasn't dressed well enough to intimidate the working women, and soon had them chatting away, and acquired, among other things, a reference to a seamstress who was 'out of fashion, but very industrious'.

She
walked back in the pleasant evening breeze to a chastened household. The housekeeper scurried in to the entry when she came, and looked with horror at the bundle of laundry Liz was carrying.

"Oh, Miss, we take care of all that!"

"Well, you've failed to do so, so far, and I've had quite enough of my clothing ruined by your pathetic laundry maids as it is." Liz looked her up and down. "I suppose I will give you another chance. I shan't be here long enough to replace all of my father's staff." She turned and marched up the stairs, well aware of the butler's frozen expression, and that the door to the kitchen was ajar and filled with watching eyes.

That's right. I'm pissed and you can be dismissed. Just give me another excuse.

***

Lady Millicent moved to a small town house with her staff, including Gladis, but her children re
mained at the Jameson mansion. She claimed her endowment was insufficient to keep her children in style. More likely she considered the children's presence a constant pressure on the baron.

Her brother, Lord Grand Debrois, took up the crusade against 'the divorce' as they kept calling it. He took Raulph under his wing, but only during the daylight hours. "He is your heir, like it or not Jameson. Divorcing Millicent doesn't change that."

"Your word play doesn't change the legalities, Grand. Your father and mine may have colluded, but that's buried with them. I'm done with this travesty of a marriage. I'll see to the children being well set up in life, but unless that bully mends his ways, there will be no petition of legitimacy."

"You've done so for the other three."

"No reason to harm the girls further, and Felix at least looks as if he could be my child."

"Bah. They're all blonde like their mother."

"Their mother is a brunette who bleaches her hair. There are damn few blondes on either my or your side of the family. Raulph's the image of Porter Nighthouse, and is no doubt his half brother. Oh. I see from your gawp that it never occurred to you your sister might have seduced her best friend's husband. She spent enough time visiting 'her friend' while the old baron was still alive it's no surprise the girls look like him, too. I had to fire half my staff and isolate Millicent in the country and get her drunk enough to co-operate to get Felix. Enough. Teach the boy some manners and responsibility and I'll consider a petition. Otherwise he'd best think on university or the Army. Or living on a small endowment."

Liz heard it all, as seeking refuge in the library meant she was privy to everything that was discussed in the office.

"Sorry about that, Liz." The baron apologized after the third loud and frank discussion of the morning. "I think that in a week I should take you to see the State of East Heights."

"I'd love to see it. Will the legalities be done?"

"Close enough."