Dewey Lambdin - King, Ship, and Sword

Wake, rise, and dress in the guest bed-chamber promptly at six; a quick shave and scrub-up, and breakfast was taken in the smaller dining room, en famille, round seven. Farm accounts, worked on together in his office, occupied another hour or so, with Lewrie the student and she the master, striving manful to remember what little he'd known of managing a farm from years before; striving manful to stay awake and pay heed to Caroline's "surely, you recall how… " or "surely, you remember what I once told you of… " lectures on crop rotation, animal husbandry, and sheep. A full pot of strong, hot coffee was very necessary!

Round ten or so, Caroline was busy with Mrs. Calder, the cook, or the tutor, and Lewrie had time in which to read a book or take a stroll through the barn and stables. Half-past twelve, though, and it was time for dinner. It was only by mid-afternoon that he was free to saddle up his old gelding, Anson, and canter into Anglesgreen to the Ploughman to have a pint or two and read the daily papers coached from London.

And, damn his hide did he linger too long or come home in his cups, either. No, once the papers were read, and a natter or two with Will and Maggie Cony and the idle regulars, life with his wife went so much better did he ride back out to his farm and skirt the bounds over the fallow fields, streams, and wood lots 'til his phyz was chilled to rosy red, and the last, lingering fumes of ale were dissipated. After that, he could return, about an hour before supper, for a stiff session in the parlour with wife and daughter, now free of household chores or lessons. A doting fuss must be made over Charlotte's lap dog, Dolly, though the wee beast still bared her teeth and flattened her ears whenever he got too close. Toulon and Chalky would huddle with him on the settee for safety, for lap, and for affection, flattening their ears, bottling tails and hissing fit to bust whenever Dolly approached too near at her play. His cats got along much better with Sewallis's wee pack of setters, all three of whom would never make true hunting dogs, and were goofily lumbering playmates.

A little music, some teasing banter with Charlotte (and a stiff glass of brandy) and it was time to sup together, again. After that, it was usually back to the parlour for more music together, or teaching Charlotte the simpler card games, before Mrs. Calder herded her up the stairs, leaving Lewrie and Caroline alone together.

"Chess," Lewrie said, apropos of nothing, to fill a void. "Or backgammon. D'ye think Charlotte'd enjoy learning those?"

"She hates to lose, though, Alan," Caroline answered, looking up from her current embroidery project.

"Can't learn to win 'less ye lose a few first. And she ought to learn that Life don't always let ye win. Even if she is a girl, she musn't be so cossetted, or spoiled, she ends up a sore loser. The boys know it… have t'know it before they enter adult lives and careers."

"You say I cosset her?" Caroline asked with one brow up.

"Not at all, Caroline!" Lewrie quickly countered, wondering how deep in trouble he was stepping. "It's just that… damn."

Caroline gave a rare, mischievous smile. "It's refreshing that you show concern for her improvements, dear. 'Damned if you do, damned if you don't'?"

"Something like that," Lewrie admitted, squirming.

"She's always been head-strong," Caroline explained, returning to her embroidery of a new handkerchief. "Though usually a sweet and biddable girl, well… with two older brothers to vie with before we sent them away to school, and now the only child in the house, she's developed a competitive streak… one which I've tried to scotch, as unseemly for a young lady. You may not have noticed, being at sea so long." And for once, that did not sound like a sour accusation.

"But you think introducin' her to new games'd not go amiss?"

"Even does she pout when she loses, I think she'd adore them," Caroline told him with another grin. "She's playing with her father, whom she hasn't seen in years, and with both of us cautioning her to be a better sport, well…!"

"Tomorrow, let's all go for a ride together," Lewrie suddenly suggested. "Hang the kitchen and still-room for a day, there's your capable Mistress Calder to oversee things. That new tea shop in the village… tea and sticky buns or muffins… the dry goods store to prowl? Ride the bounds together, maybe put up a fox and have a go at 'View, Halloo'? Away from her tutor and lessons for a bit, that'd be a treat, surely."

"That is a marvellous idea, Alan!" Caroline eagerly said. "We will tell her at breakfast. And I must own that some time away from household drudgery will suit me right down to my toes, as well."

"Good, then, we'll do it!" Lewrie exclaimed.

"Well," Caroline determined, gathering up her embroidery, "it is time for me to retire. Do not sit up too late. Goodnight, dear."

And, wonder of wonders, she actually crossed the short space 'twixt settee and her chair to lean over and give him a brief peck on his forehead before stepping away.

"Goodnight, Caroline," he replied, half-stunned, unsure whether he should respond in kind; she was walking to the doors and out of his reach before he could decide.

"You see, Alan… domesticity can be very pleasant," she said as she paused in the doorway once more, with yet another of those enigmatic smiles. "After so many years of grim war and separation, your family can be a source of joy and contentment."

Aye, it can, Lewrie thought once she was gone; though nine parts outta ten just bovine boresome!

Huzzah, we've letters!" Lewrie cried as he entered the house after an hour or so at the Olde Ploughman. "Letters and newspapers."

"Who are they from?" Caroline asked, bustling into the foyer from the kitchens, pantry, and still-room, where Spring cleaning had kept her occupied.

"Uhm… one from Sophie and Anthony Langlie," Lewrie told her, shuffling through the pack, "one from his parents, too. Burgess has written us… one from my father… "

"Oh, give me Burgess's!" Caroline enthused, drying her hands on her apron as they went to the many-windowed office at one end of the house, for Charlotte was practicing with her music tutor in the formal parlour. The windows were open, the drapes taken down to be beaten on lines outside and air fresh, as were the carpets. After months with the house shut against winter's chill, the accumulated mustiness from candles, lamps, and fireplaces was being dispelled, replaced with the soft breezes of Spring that wafted in the scents of the first blossoms in the gardens, fresh-springing grass and leaves, the twitter of birds, and the soft cries from the nearest pens where sheep were lambing.

Along with the first wasps of Spring, which Lewrie spent time to swat or shoo before opening the letter from Sophie, their former ward, and his old First Lieutenant aboard HMS Proteus and HMS Savage.

"Yes!" Caroline shouted in triumph. "Alan, my brother is to be wed… The first banns were published last Sunday! Oh, how grand !"

"And good for him, at last," Lewrie heartily agreed. "When do we expect the wedding, and where?"

"What a splendid match!" Caroline further enthused before giving him the details. "Uhm… at the Trencher family's home parish, in High Wycombe,"

"Not so very far," Lewrie replied, more intent on the Langlies' letter. "Didn't know the Trenchers were landed. Still… rich as he is, I'm sure her father's found some 'skint' lord with a large parcel that ain't entailed, and willing t'sell up t'settle his debts."

England was crawling with "new-made men" of Trade and Industry, men risen from the middling classes who aspired to emulate the titled and long-standing landowners, with country estates and acres of their own without renting. The law of entail, though, awarded the inheritance of the income that land generated, not the land itself, to eldest sons, who could not dispose of it; nor could their sons. It was only the grandsons of the heirs who could sell off land, but a new deed of settlement could stave off that shocking event to that heir's grandson for another three generations, and it was a rare thing to see land be sold outright.