Mrs Perrin was delighted to obey - the larder must be kept full in anticipation of such visits, and, in the nature of things, provisions that were about to become stale must be eaten up and replaced. A number of local families were about to become much better fed.
Tom's cold was far worse when they reached the Hall and he took to his bed for two days, greatly against his will; he was becoming elderly, he feared.
Captain Thame had a number of matters to bring to Tom's attention when he finally sat down to business. None of them were of great importance, mostly a matter of bringing him up to date.
"The news of Godby Fletcher is out in Burton, my lord, and not in the best of fashions, I would venture to suggest."
Tom had read the letter detailing Murphy's triumph and had sent an instruction to double the thousand in his bank account; he was still inclined to be pleased with their success.
"What has gone wrong, Captain Thame?"
"The Latimer family, my lord. They bade the rector to announce his death in church and to sermonise on it in a rather distasteful fashion. He reminded the congregation that Fletcher was a murderer and a thief and that he would undoubtedly be enjoying Hell's fires at this moment - a well-earned and thoroughly deserved resting place for his soul for all Eternity."
"What fools they are! A little generosity of spirit and they could have brought all to an end, but now they have stirred up yet more bitterness."
Small-minded squireens - if only they would confine themselves to chasing their foxes!
"What have we to the good?"
"The mastiffs, my lord - a very successful litter of four, one male - all handsome brindles. Your daughter, Lady Star, has begged for a pair, I believe, and we could send two to her. Sir William Rumpage has become possessed of the idea that a gentleman's son should have a dog to walk, and wishes his boy to have a companion; I think we could give him the male, my lord."
"You know that Mr Alec Fraser has his own mastiff, Baron, by name? There is a degree of rivalry between the two men."
"Which would explain much, my lord."
"By all means despatch the dog to him as soon as it is old enough. Two months or thereabouts?"
"Eight to ten weeks is normal, my lord. If I might make so bold, my lord, I would be very pleased to take the fourth."
"With my blessing, Captain Thame, it is often no easy matter to dispose of a litter."
"They are costly, my lord, without doubt, but most remarkable beasts - as soft-hearted as they are huge."
"I am told that they can be disconcerting to a gently bred wife, Captain Thame, taking up so much space in the house as they do."
"I believe that the young lady who has done me the honour of recently accepting my proposal is sufficiently robust, my lord. She is town bred and must acquaint herself with the rural existence, and a dog will make an excellent beginning."
Thame had made a very good start, it was time to bring him into the network of loyalty.
"You will ensure that the house is ready for her, Captain Thame - all refurbishment to be done by the estate's people, of course. Much of the furniture will have been in the possession of the Quillersons; it is to be replaced by the best of the Kettering tradesmen, bills to me; kitchenware the same."
Tom made a mental note to have a silver tea-set procured as a wedding present; he would consult Frances on Thame's probable taste.
Thame had heard of the open-handed nature of his employer, had been assured that 'my lord would look after him'; he was still amazed.
"Thank you, my lord. It is most unexpected and very welcome, I assure you."
"There is no such thing as something for nothing, Captain Thame. The family intends to work you for the next three decades, so we must keep you sweet, sir! Besides, a comfortable home life makes for a better worker in my experience - investment, not goodness, Captain Thame!"
The agent laughed along with Tom, but suspected there might be a very kind heart as well.
Letters arrived from James - Peel was busy as Home Secretary, reforming the prisons and hopefully making them places of correction as well as punishment. His theory seemed to be that only lesser criminals should be imprisoned and that there was a chance of redeeming them from their lives of sin and degradation, but only if the prisons were fit for the purpose. Inveterate, recidivist felons were to be transported, and so should not be able to contaminate younger and weaker-minded transgressors who were not yet dedicated to their perverse ways, whilst the most violent, who might seek forgiveness from the Lord but not from man, were still to hang. The number of hanging offences was to be reduced again, though still remaining well into three figures.
As well, Peel was leading a methodical campaign to codify and tidy the Criminal Law, to reduce the number of applicable Acts and introduce an element of consistency of practice and sentence. James was not entirely sure that he understood all that Peel was doing in the field of Jurisprudence but felt inclined to support him. Brougham said the same. Did his father agree?
"A very good question, my son!"
Tom wrote a letter to Robert, asking his opinion, both on the reforms and on Brougham, a man unknown to him.
Robert informed him that Peel had been in consultation with a Quaker lady, Mrs Elizabeth Fry, who was much interested in the current state of the country's prisons. She had much to say that made good sense, and was persuasive in her speech.
Of more interest to the family was that her husband was a banker, and a poor specimen of the breed, although very well connected. The husband had a record of making bad loans, mostly based on his ability to judge a borrower's character, an attribute that he believed he possessed in large measure.
'He believes that a steady eye and a firm handshake betoken an honest and capable man', Robert wrote, saying that he himself looked for a little more from a businessman.
"He will be bankrupted within a very few years - the next downturn, however small, will break him. We shall avoid any contact with his bank, and shall let it be known amongst our more valued clients that we are doing so."
It seemed possible that if the lady was on terms with Peel then he might be doing business with her husband, which might cost the unlikeable young man a few thousands, Tom mused, hopefully.
Brougham, Robert wrote, was determined to progress and prosper in his career, and had settled on the post of Lord Chancellor - which must carry a peerage - as the most apt for his desires. He was intelligent, interested in the sciences as well as economical matters, but tended to enthusiasm, an unlovely trait in any man. Robert did not like him but doubted he was malicious, or vicious in his habits; James would derive little good from his company but would probably come to no harm, and he had to keep contact with the great in his party.
Spring ploughing ended and the fields were sown, Tom interested to see a new mechanical drill which had been designed and built in their local works. They estimated a gain of one tenth in time, and as much again in seed corn that did not go to waste in the headlands and ditches.
Tom walked back from the fields, talking to Cairncross about his plans for the works and his successes in manufacturing new machinery. He stumbled, nearly fell, grabbed Cairncross' arm.
"Bit dizzy of a sudden, Mr Cairncross, twice this morning. Arm's a bit weak where I was shot as well. Not important. No need to worry her ladyship, not in her condition."
Frances was very large, estimated she had no more than four weeks to go, her mother agreeing.
There was a lad walking a horse round the yard, cooling it after a long ride, it seemed.
"Well lathered, my lord," Cairncross observed.
"Been pushed hard."
Captain Thame came trotting across, a packet in his hands.
"In some ten minutes, my lord. One of Lord Star's boys, not stopping since yesterday noon, my lord, making his changes at the Night Mail houses."
Tome's first thoughts were for Joseph as he fumbled with the waxed, rainproof packet.
There was a single sheet of note
paper, written by Thomas Star; he read it quickly, let it drop, turned away for a minute.
"Carriage and four horses, our own coachman, Captain Thame, and a second man at his side to take over when he tires. Immediately."
Tom walked as quickly as he could into the Hall, calling for Brown.
"Blacks, Brown! A full suit. We shall be away a week, not much more."
Frances appeared slowly from her work room, took one look at his face, hurried across to him.
"Joseph?"
"Joe Star - never woke up yesterday morning - blue in the face, they assume a heart attack while he was sleeping, so Thomas says. I shall be back next week, as soon as I can be, but I must go to Freemans now."
"You must."
The drive north was exhausting, and Tom could not sleep - there were too many memories, too much grief. There was a moon and the coachman was able to make his way at a little bit better than walking pace through the hours of darkness, but unable to see and avoid the potholes, bumping and clattering every few minutes. Tom was on the road for nearly thirty hours, leaving the coach very slowly at the front door of Freemans.
"Thank you for coming, my lord - though I knew you must. You do not look well, sir!"
"Tired, my lord. Your father was a little older than me but I am no spring chicken, sir!"
They took Tom to the side room where the coffin was lying, let him look his last before retiring to a bedroom where he fell almost immediately into sleep.
"The funeral, my lord?"
"The day after tomorrow, Lord Andrews. It gives time for the local newssheet to announce my father's death, and to send notes to all who must be informed and to bring the family together."
Joseph was already present and Robert and James arrived on the afternoon before the interment.
"All except Henry to be present, of the surviving children, that is - which is as it should be, my lord, but very good to see."
"Almost all with their husbands and wives, very correctly. I see that Luke is still single, and George is unaccompanied."
"George was wed a fortnight ago, as was Bob - both quiet affairs, as they had to be because of the mourning and, in George's case, because it saved Mr Brown 'a mort of money that need not be wasted on bloody boozing and dancing parties'. I believe his wife's mother's health has worsened greatly in the last few days, and she has not wished to leave her side."
"A pity, but she is right, of course. Is there a bride in prospect for Luke?"
"Not that he has mentioned, my lord."
The funeral service took place in the large parish church in Wigan, the old building packed full of the Quality of the North-West, the Lord Lieutenant prominent amongst them. Newspaper men stood outside, noting down the names gleefully - they loved to be able to identify the rich and powerful in their pages.
The actual burial, attended only by the menfolk, took place in St Helens, as a mark of respect to the town where Joe Star had made his fortune. Nearly one hundred men crowded round the grave, packed four and five deep.
Lord Star came away white-faced and shaking, sought out his brothers.
"Did you see that man at the back, Matthew? Scarred across the face and ear, one arm held low, as if he were wounded, or had been and had recovered. They were old wounds."
Matthew shook his head.
"I saw him," Bob said, "but he was gone before I could get across to him."
None of the others had seen him and no man of his description attended the funeral feast.
"Who was this mysterious man, Thomas? Bob, who did you think it was?"
Bob shook his head, said that he must have been mistaken, and Thomas would say no more.
Tom stood aside with his sons about him, all three concerned that he seemed very tired.
"Did any of you see this man Thomas mentioned?"
Robert had not and Joseph had paid little attention to the mourners; James nodded reluctantly.
"I saw Thomas stare, Papa, and followed his eye, and I am sure I saw the man nod to him, in recognition."
James seemed unwilling to say more.
"Well, who was he?"
"John Star, sir - older, injured almost as much as me, but it was he I am quite certain."
Tom took the road south next day, needing to be back at the Hall, to receive comfort as much as to be at Frances' side.
He stayed in bed for the next sennight, the feverish cold returning again and leaving him chesty and inclined to wheeze. He limped a little now and his arm would not do all that it should, though he tried to hide his condition from Frances.
Robert and Miriam arrived on a coincidental spring visit, and James and Jennifer came a day later, openly saying they wished to be part of the celebration.
Frances came to her time and was delivered of a girl - not an easy or a quick process but, bearing in mind her age, as successful as might be hoped for. She was tired, but not exhausted, when Tom was admitted to the room.
"You wanted a second daughter, Thomas - I am glad to have obliged, sir!"
He smiled in return, said how thankful he was, held her hand a moment.
"What of names, Thomas?"
They had not committed themselves to a name - it smacked of counting chickens.
"Yours, my dear, most certainly."
"But not as a first, I think, Thomas. Verity Frances, and what for a third?"
"Jane, perhaps - I have always liked it."
"So be it."
He kissed her forehead and left her to sleep, peeking at the infant safe in the wet-nurse's arms.
"All very well, sir!"
"It is indeed, Robert! Poor old Joe - he would have been delighted for me. A drink to celebrate?"
Tom walked two paces towards the bell pull, seemed to stumble and collapsed as his leg crumpled under him. His head crashed into the marble fireplace and his body slackened instantly, all of the muscles relaxing as one.
There was no pulse for Robert to find as he quickly knelt to his side.
# # #
By the Same Author
The Duty and Destiny Series: Published in 2014, these superbly-crafted novel length sea/land stories are set in the period of the French Revolutionary War (1793 – 1802). The series follows the naval career and love-life of Frederick Harris, the second son of a middling Hampshire landowner, a brave but somewhat reluctant mariner.
Please note: This series is available to Kindle Unlimited subscribers until at least December 17th, 2014. Amazon - Kindle links to the whole series:
US/worldwide:
http://tinyurl.com/Duty-and-Destiny-Series
UK only:
http://tinyurl.com/Duty-and-Destiny-Series-UK
Book Eight in the ‘A Poor Man at the Gate Series’, provisionally titled, The Price of Virtue, 'is due for release in late 2014 or early 2015.
To be notified of future digital book releases by Andrew Wareham, please visit: http://tinyurl.com/A-Wareham After signing up, you will be entitled to discounts on the author’s new releases. Please note: We respect your privacy and will not pass on your contact details to third parties.
***
If you have a spare minute or two, please visit Amazon and write a few words about my books in the review sections: Your objective feedback will help other potential readers make informed choices. Many thanks, Andrew Wareham
A Poor Man at the Gate Series’ links:
US/worldwide
http://tinyurl.com/A-Poor-Man
UK only
http://tinyurl.com/A-Poor-Man-UK
is-inline-share-buttons">share
The Old Order (A Poor Man at the Gate Series Book 7) Page 25
