His Lordship's Lap
Page 2
If you were the queen of pleasure.
And I were the king of pain.
We’d hunt down love together.
Pluck out his flying-feather,
And teach his feet a measure,
And find his mouth a rein;
If you were the queen of pleasure,
And I were king of pain.
She gulped, recognizing the passage from ‘A Match’ that she had committed to heart upon her very first reading of the haunted Swinburne’s works. Was this a foretelling of her future? Shivers traveled down the length of her spine. Instinctively, she knew Harrison was dangerous but would the danger be to her body, her mind, or to her heart? He had disturbed her senses during that first meeting and, despite the cook’s reassurance of his good intentions, she trembled with anticipation of the unknown and unfamiliar.
Berating herself for her foolish whimsy, she perused the pages until the rocking of the carriage made her eyelids grow heavy. The cold, dreary bleakness of the summer rain and queasiness of her stomach soon lulled her into a restless sleep filled with dreams of gray images from Swinburne’s poems.
***
“Madam? We will be staying here for the evening and then board a train for the remainder of the journey towards Manchester. His Lordship has ordered that you confine yourself to your chambers and do not depart the premises. Food will be brought to your room, as well as hot water for your bath,” her uniformed escort said gruffly, opening the door for her to exit the carriage.
Vanessa stumbled out, rubbing her eyes as she tried to focus on the dimly lit streets of the dark, quiet town. “Where are we?”
He did not respond to her question. “Please step inside.”
She looked at him boldly and then glanced at the door to the plain, brick building which he gestured for her to enter. “I suppose your silence means that you are not going to inform me of my location. What of this question? What will your master say should I choose to leave my apartments and explore this region?”
“Lord Harrison has many ways of dealing with disobedience. He would warn you not to question him or his instructions.”
“Am I his prisoner, then?”
“You are under his protection, Miss Pankhurst,” the man said impatiently. “Please, spare yourself the unpleasantness of the consequences and follow his commands. Now is not the time to indulge in spiteful behaviors or rebellion.”
“I am neither spiteful nor rebellious. I simply have the ability to think which some of the self-declared sanctimonious and self-righteous find offsetting and considered a social flaw.”
“His Lordship has made me aware of the murmurs shared by the mouths of your countrymen. You’ve been named spoiled, undisciplined, incorrigible, and uncouth.”
“That opinion was based on my gender, not on my abilities.”
“Then prove these rumormongers wrong. I am asking you respectfully to please go inside and to your room.”
The words ‘like a good girl’ should have completed the sentence, Vanessa fumed. The concept of limiting her freedom was not one that she accepted blindly after being raised in a home where the boundaries of behavior began, and ended, with formal social gatherings. Her annoyance was compounded after being shown her chambers- a small dusty cubicle located on the top floor of the non-impressive building. She opened the shutters to shake out the linens of any unwanted occupants, using the task to study the still streets and flickering lamps that glimmered through a thin layer of fog.
Having need to stretch her legs after hours of riding in the carriage, the woman pressed her ear against the door and, hearing no sound, quietly opened the latch and peeked down the hallway. Finding no guard, she ventured downstairs to the unoccupied common room and then crept outside into the misty evening air. Invigorated by the coolness of the night, she completed several laps around the inn's courtyard. Well over an hour ticked by before she returned to the confinement of her room. There she found a covered tray rested next to the door and a frowning guard with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Your meal is cold,” he said with disapproval.
“I’m not hungry,” she responded, opening her door.
The young man followed her into the room and placed the tray on the dressing table. “His Lordship is going to be quite angry with you. I gave you his instructions that you weren’t to leave your room.”
She spun around to face the guard, fighting against the angry tears welling in her eyes. “Let him be angry. If he had any common sense, he would see that I needed to exercise my legs and clear my head. I can’t abide being caged- not by a society and certainly not by a man whom I know nothing about.”
He softened his tone. “Listen to me, Miss Pankhurst. I don’t want to see you punished upon your arrival in your new home, but you’re not making it easy to protect you. Like you, I am under orders.”
“I don’t need protection. I need freedom.”
“What you call freedom no longer exists for you. This belief that a woman can run unfettered is not our practice.”
“Unfettered? Unfettered!” She was livid. “Do you think that I’m an ox that requires the tying to a yoke? Or am I like a hobbled horse that needs to be prevented from wandering in search of food? Am I entering a country where women nothing but slaves to their husbands and prisoners to your government?”
“Please, lower your voice.”
"No! I will not lower my voice.” She was shrieking at the top of her lungs. “Maybe the people need to know the type of monsters that the Isle of Man is breeding.”
“There are no monsters in my country. A cherished woman is subject to her husband and under his protection and care. The government maintains laws to keep her happy and healthy through love and consistency, which includes discipline.”
“Oh, really? And what if the husband cannot enforce his power upon her?”
“He suffers the consequences. The penalty is severe, and few men have had to face it.”
Panic rippled inside of her. Did men punish their wives to avoid governmental interference? “What type of penalty?”
“The first is imposed fine and the requirement to return to a training academy.”
“What is a training academy?”
“It is much like a vocational school that instructs men had to be proper husbands and leaders. All boys are required to complete the courses and then are accepted as apprentices to practice their skills before any are permitted to marry.”
“I have never heard of any such law that is so ridiculous!”
“The Isle of Man has no divorce, no unsettled quarrels or disputes, and no significant crime. Our boys are raised to be responsible and respectable men who, in turn, raise responsible and respectable wives and families.”
“And what else occurs if the woman is less-than-perfect? Is she tortured and then executed?” There was no attempt to disguise the distasteful tone of her voice.
“We do not impose drastic means to ensure a woman’s good behavior. Abuse is never tolerated under any circumstance. A man who is unable to control his wife is subject to public discipline, and she is given to the Head of State to retrain.”
“Are you implying that your country believes that the woman’s behavior is dependent upon her husband’s actions? That is uncivilized.”
“Call it what you wish, but save your judgment until you witness the people themselves.”
“There is a distinct difference between judgment and common sense. Your monarchy is no better than the one which I have left.”
“We don’t have a monarchy. We are governed by Lord Harrison’s father who believes his people are fellow citizens, not subjects.”
“I suspect he also abstains from calling himself a king to prevent problems with the Crown.”
“Head of State Ansley is only recognized by the people of the state. It is Lord Harrison who is acknowledged as ruler by the queen under the title of Lieutenant Governor.”
“This entire thought process is ludicrous. How can a
nyone function under such tyranny?”
The man stifled a yawn. “There is no purpose in discussing politics at this juncture. It is late, and you require sleep. We will be leaving in a few hours and arriving at the train station shortly after daybreak. Good evening to you, Miss Vanessa.”
Feeling indignant at the dismissal, the woman glared at her guard as he walked away and muttered under her breath. “Well, Lord Harrison, it seems as though you and I will be experiencing some conflict. But I'll tell you this much. No man will ever tell me how to think or live, so I hope you’re prepared to be facing this public discipline that your own laws have set for you.”
***
“Didn’t Lord Harrison provide you with the woman’s uniform?” Her guard asked as they disembarked the train. The trip had been hot and bumpy, her appetite poor due to the constant swaying motion, and her sleep limited; a combination responsible for her growing irritability as each rumbling mile brought her closer to her destination.
“He did,” Vanessa answered stiffly. “I stuffed the hideous item into my satchel. I will return it to him and remind your high and mighty Lordship that I am a grown woman and am not going to garb myself in such childish clothing.”
“Women are forbidden to be on the streets dressed in the fashions of the modern world. Such frivolities provoke jealousy, strife, and unladylike behaviors.”
“Pray tell, who among you has come up with such preposterous ideas?”
“History has taught us that when either man or woman is placed in a situation where comparisons occur—whether it be clothing, housing, or education—strife is produced. With strife comes jealousy and then quarrels and dissension are born. If one does not know what they lack, then one never has a need to obtain it.”
Begrudgingly, Vanessa understood the concept but stubbornly refused the verbalization of her comprehension. Instead, she countered. “Dressing and other such frivolities also allow us to be individuals rather than duplicates of one another. I’ve heard of countries that strive to produce identical copies of their citizens in order to maintain control, and they have created mindless entities. Is this your purpose?”
“We do not concern ourselves with maintaining control of our people. Our only concerned is the health and well-being of our nation, and that starts with the individual people.”
“Individual people who are forced to look and act like everyone else.”
The man sighed with frustration. “Must you argue about everything? Please just obey His Lordship and change your clothing as soon as we board the schooner.”
“And if I choose not to?”
“Then you will arrive as naked as the day you were born, even if it means that I have to strip you with my own hands. You’re also to surrender all of your belongings.”
She glowered at him, seeking evidence that his threat was a pretense to frighten her into obedience. She found none. Uncertainty ruled her senses, and Vanessa reluctantly complied. The guard nodded approvingly upon her presentation and then took her satchel from her hand, removing from her possession the only reminder of the world that she had left. Feeling vulnerable and immensely foolish in the childish costume, she wondered what other forms of humiliation her foreign captor had planned for her.
Touching her shoulder, he said, “Please don’t look as though you’ve suffered defeat. The freedom that you long for comes dressed in different disguises. I also have this for you.” He hung a tiny glass vial filled with a dark powder around her neck.
“What is this?”
“The Isle of Man has a strong ancient influence from the days of the druids. While most of the beliefs are based on common superstitions, we have also come to trust and rely on many of the medications and potions they produced. Every household is equipped with what we affectionately label ‘The Potions Closet’ and contains bottles of commonly used oils and remedies. For example, this powder will help you if anxiety strikes.” He tapped the vial.
“Is it poison?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
He chuckled. “Nay, it is a mix of ground herbs that you can add to hot water or wine. It aids in relaxing a troubled soul, as well as eases the effects of seasickness. You need only to take a small sip.”
“This would have been useful during the first leg of my journey, don’t you think? Does everyone wear these vessels?” she asked, taking notice of the tiny flasks around the necks of several crewmen.
“Only those who require regular medications or reminders of something important.” He pointed to the cabin boy. “He keeps a tooth that he lost during a brawl that reminds him not to fight unless necessary. The captain’s vial contains herbs to relieve his aching bones of the pain brought by the cold and dampness.”
“And you? Do you wear one of these vials?”
Nodding, he held up a tiny bottle that contained seeds. “These are from the mustard tree and remind me that great and powerful things take time and patience to grow.” He sighed. “I serve as His Lordship’s valet, and patience is truly a trait that I require.”
“Is he that difficult?”
“He isn’t difficult, but he is a man burdened with many responsibilities that are greater than one his age should have to endure.”
“That is the burden of carrying a title of nobility.”
“Yes, but his burdens are even greater than most. He is also headmaster of the training academy and has several women apprenticing in his home. His decision to bring a foreign born into our country places high expectations upon him. Many people will be watching for him to fail.”
“Fail? That seems odd for a country that you boast of nearly being perfect.”
“The lieutenant governorship is the most coveted position within our administration, and there are those who desire the power.”
“Why not the Head of State’s position?”
“The Head of State rules by the old laws and keeps Man’s traditions alive. His word is law in the country alone, no other. The Lieutenant Governor’s position is assigned by Her Majesty the Queen and is the representative of the country to the queen’s court. His word extends beyond the island’s walls.”
“Wouldn’t those who want power also desire to rule over the island?”
“The riches that these men hunger for can’t be found here. They don’t see the work that's been accomplished for the betterment of this population, nor are they willing to add to it. Although we have no poverty and every need is well cared for, those who have tasted fortune outside of Man desire more. That is why we try to avoid materialistic temptations.”
“Why don’t they just leave?” Vanessa wrinkled her forehead in confusion.
“They desire to rule as a greater power, but they couldn't obtain that power in a large country such as Britain. These are men who would destroy what the Ansley family has built for the country and rebuild it for themselves.”
“So how does that differ from the world that I am leaving?”
“It doesn’t. They are similar to your prime minister and his cabinet. It takes a special kind of strength to stand up to people like that.” The man paused and looked out over the waves. “Most people live in fear and cower to those who claim authority, but you did not. That is one reason His Lordship was attracted to your campaign and felt that you would be a powerful ally as his First Lady.”
“Me? An ally and First Lady? Is that what he told you? That’s poppycock.” She grunted in disbelief. “Regarding my campaign, I’ve discovered that many of those whom I defended went on to complain of their plight. They then went into hiding instead of banding together to change their condition. I’ve found myself alone in the battle much too often because of these cowardly hearts, and it only brought me pain.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“I spoke because it’s impossible for me to turn a blind eye to the truth of oppression, nothing more. Much of my efforts were selfish ones for it was my wish for women with intelligence to be allowed to speak freely, be heard and taken seriously.”
“That is a contradiction of terms. He represents the very type of behavior and pride seen in those whom I oppose. Regarding him ‘choosing’ me, that is untrue. He merely found me in an inopportune situation and took advantage of my plight.”
“Perhaps. I know his Lordship extremely well, and he has never happen-chanced upon anything in his life. I am certain that he knew of your situation long before you did. As for your belief regarding his agenda, I assure you that is completely opposite from what you’ve experienced.”
“We shall see. What’s this?” she asked as a cabin boy handed her a steaming mug.
“Jasmine tea with fresh cream and sugar, madam. His Lordship said that it’s your favorite.” The boy looked pleased as she flashed him a pretty smile and then scurried away.
“How did he know? It's delicious.” Vanessa sipped the hot beverage with delight and noted that it immediately eased the turmoil in her stomach and her mind.
“He knows everything that there is to know about you, Miss Pankhurst. Perhaps even more than you know of yourself. Are you well?”
“Dear Lord, did you drug me?” she asked groggily as she was lowered to a bench and felt a blanket was tucked around her shoulders.
“Rest up, little one,” the guard cooed. “We’ll be home shortly.”
Vanessa barely remembered arriving on the island, the carriage ride to the manor, or being slipped into a fragrant, soft featherbed. Still partially asleep, she recalled a pair of warm lips kissing her temple after the blankets were drawn under her chin. The subtly audible voices of two men talking reached her ears, and she struggled between trying to hear them versus returning to sleep. Her body won the battle, and she felt herself drifting as she wondered what type of madness she was entering.
Chapter 2
“Miss? Good morning!” a soft female voice called. Vanessa’s lids fluttered open to see a tall, slender young woman hovering above her. “Welcome to Ansley Manor. My name is Marie, and I’ve been assigned to help you.”