Matthew Bayliss, his steward occasionally rode past the cottage building works. He would stop and compliment Xavier on how well they appeared to be progressing. He did not however make a long examination of the works and only briefly dismounted, before riding off down the lanes to outside Xavier’s small estate. Xavier wondered whether his steward was looking for another position, as he went outside the estate so often. He considered mentioning to his wife that Bayliss was not really necessary, but decided instead to talk to Hector about it. Now that he had completed the carvings for the great hall, Xavier wondered about how to spend his evenings.
Since he had been carving every evening, Hector had taken to riding into the nearby market town and spending some time at a hostelry, on one occasion remaining out the whole night. Xavier was not one to tell tales about another man and merely noted it. He was usually in bed himself, by the time Hector returned to the house, but Hector mentioned it at dinner the next evening.
“It doesn’t seem fair to sit and drink here when you can’t, my lord. I have not really much to do, now that all the pressing bills have been paid off. I have argued with her ladyship that you do not need babysitting and could be allowed to manage the affairs of Kittleton Place yourself. I hope that she is beginning to agree with me and will allow me to return to London soon.”
“I drank because I was unhappy, Hector; my efforts to improve things here were a drop in the ocean. No sooner had I fixed one problem than another even bigger one sprang up. I could not keep up. I preferred being drunk to seeing how the place was falling to pieces around me. If you wish to drink it will not tempt me. However the cellars need to be cleared out and there is a secret passage from them, which has partially tumbled down that I want to get the mason to shore up. Do you think you could arrange for Mr Rutter to have the keys to the cellar to get those repairs done and to instruct our footmen to clear out the empty and broken bottles.”
“I think it would come better from you, my lord. I believe you should have the cellar keys yourself. I believe Millett has the other key to the cellars.”
Hector pulled out a ring of keys and removed the one labelled cellars and handed it to Xavier who attached it to his own bundle of keys. There were still a few good bottles of wine remaining in the cellar and some excellent brandy, but Xavier no longer felt any great desire to drink to excess. He was just wishing his countess would come home soon and realise that he had reformed. It had been two weeks since she had last visited Kittleton and he was missing her, although she remained cool to him he was finding that he wanted to talk to her and tell her all his doings. He missed sleeping with her sweetly scented curls spread across his shoulder with her gentle breathing whispering over his chest.
***
Celestina’s coach reached the lane, which would take them down to the area behind the docks where the two chandlers’ shops were situated, along with a baker’s and a rather rough and dilapidated inn. The lane itself had a gaggle of watchmen conversing portentously in undertones on one side and a number of passers-by hanging about, who should have been going about their own business. The group of onlookers were louder and seemed to be swelling, as others joined them to watch whatever was going to happen. Celestina ordered Jeffreys to pull up, several of her clerks kept her company in the carriage, all of them armed with a belaying pin. She herself had placed a pair of loaded carriage pistols in the door pocket nearest to her.
Her footmen were similarly armed, but Jeffreys also kept two loaded pistols in his deep coat pockets and a blunderbuss with a wide spread beneath the box. Celestina sent a footman to enquire of the watchmen, whether the situation at the docks had been resolved. He reached the huddled group of watchmen, who turned and stared as one, when he coughed to try and gain their attention.
“Lady Kittleton wishes to enquire as to the current situation at the docks,” he pompously declared to the watchmen, who all touched their caps, even though Celestina remained quietly in her carriage.
“There is a battle raging down there,” said a watchman with a black eye which was beginning to reveal itself fully in brilliant shades of purple and brown. It had not been obtained in the battle at the docks, but he had earned it the previous evening, when some lads about town had been enjoying their irksome pastime of boxing the watch. After escaping from his box, this particular watchman had delivered some home brewed to a couple of lads, but had ended up on the receiving end. However the footman was suitably impressed and did not reflect that the watch men were hanging back out of cowardice.
“Her ladyship understands that, but wondered what actions you are taking to stop the disturbance?”
“We asked for support from the East India Company river police, but they are busy with a serious robbery. So we sent to HMS Atropos, which is moored a bit further down and asked for support from their Marines. We’ve heard they’re on shore leave, but we’ve been offered their press gang to help clear the riot up and they should be here soon.”
“Thank you,” the footman declared before marching back to the carriage.
He spent some time trying to persuade the countess to return to her offices, but she gave the order for the carriage to move on and within minutes they were in sight of the scene of the disruption. Higgins & Morpeth, chandleries and ironmongeries was to the left of the carriage and the Wellmouth chandlery was to the right with the bakers between the two buildings. A run-down inn, with a sign from which the paint was flaking away, declared itself to be the Gun. It was set back slightly behind the Higgins & Morpeth shop. A number of grubby drinkers were clustered about the front of the establishment but as for a battle, none seemed to be currently in process although both chandleries had barricaded themselves in with barrels and crates forming a palisade to protect their employees.
What looked like a number of missiles lay smashed and ignored on the cobbles, beside the hastily thrown up barricades. Celestina considered the damages to the chandlers’ merchandise, which lay scattered around. Both chandleries would lose quite a considerable sum from the thrown bottles and crocks. She tutted slightly to herself, but indicated to Jeffreys that he should back up a little towards the Wellmouth chandlery and position the carriage so it was partially shielding the shop, but could make a fast exit. She climbed down on the inside of the carriage and a couple of bruised and battered employees came and removed part of the barricade to allow her to enter the chandlery.
Inside the shop it was clear that the battle had not been exaggerated. The employees who huddled there, sported multiple bruises and contusions and one had his arm bound up in a rough sling. However it looked like the Wellmouths might have been winning the battle, because three men were hog-tied and gagged together, sitting on the floor and they too showed multiple bruises. One had a ragged bandage tied around his head, which obviously covered a wound that had bled quite considerably. The aprons the captives wore were different to the Wellmouth aprons, which had a large double u in the corner. This confirmed to Celestina that these men were captured enemy troops. From the numbers present of Wellmouth workers, she doubted that any were missing.
Two of Wellmouth’s workers were towards the rear of the shop and seemed to be filling some bottles with a pungent smelling liquid. Celestina assumed that these were intended as further missiles and she quessed the liquid might be ignited before throwing. The workers were about to face the press gang and watch, but if they burnt down their opposition’s shop they would hang for it. Fire might spread to the inn behind the shop and people could die in the conflagration. She did not like to consider the honest faces that surrounded her, swinging from ropes.
“Who is in charge here?” she asked and a thin gangly youth appeared from the back of the shop.
“I am, James Wellmouth at your service, ma’am,” he said with a slight bow.
“Gregory Wellmouth’s son?”
“Second son, ma’am.”
“I am the Countess of Kittleton, formerly known as Celestina Blighton. I have been trying to buy your shops since i
t appeared they were to be sold. I suggest you listen to me and act fast. The watch have asked for assistance from HMS Atropos’ press gang. They will arrive shortly. Get your lads to bring in the most important items of stock from the barricade, because the remains of the barricade will be looted.”
“Your lads should pour back the oil and take the captives to the barricade. Then you should lock the doors and I will take you personally up in my carriage. Your lads can remove their aprons and filter into the crowd which is building up in the adjacent street and then head for home, I’d advise you all to lay low. But you will all need a good lawyer fast.”
Chapter Twelve – Estate Matters
Celstina’s absence from Kittleton Place drifted from the two weeks she had intended, on for another week. She sent a simple business-like letter to her husband apologizing for her absence, but giving no reasons for the delay in her return. Hector received a rather longer letter which revealed more and warmly gave him permission to leave the Place and join her in her offices in town. Xavier sent a jubilant Hector off in his new carriage and that evening dined alone with Matthew Bayliss. The carriage would return the following day, after the horses and driver had had a night’s rest in London.
If Celestina thought that Hector’s absence would encourage Xavier to renege on his promises, then she was wrong. His own visits to the cellars were only to demonstrate the access to the hidden passage and to inspect the mason, Mr Rutter’s team’s activities in shoring it up and making the passage safe. Although Xavier had no intention of using the tunnel for its original purpose of hiding the operations of smugglers, Mr Rutter confirmed that if the tunnel had been left to deteriorate further, then very soon part of the terrace and formal gardens would have subsided into a large hole filling the tunnel further with debris.
On completion of the repairs Mr Rutter together with Xavier examined the works and walked further down the tunnel but, Mr Rutter was disappointed that the end was blocked off and it looked like it had been done on purpose rather than by a fall of masonry and earth from above. Xavier insisted that the tunnel had never gone much further and that he knew where it came out, but that reopening the other end of the tunnel was not urgently required by his plans at present. Mr Rutter was somewhat frustrated by Xavier not informing him where the original entrance had been, but could not openly complain to his employer.
Although there were now many more people at Kittleton Place, to Xavier it now seemed much quieter and he found that he was lonely without either Hector or Celestina. Although he did not dislike Matthew Bayliss seriously, he was not a man whom Xavier could ever see as a friend or amusing company. The house gradually improved as the redecoration and repairs were carried out. Xavier found on returning from his days out about the estate that Kittleton Place now smelt strange to him, the fresh odours of paint and polish assailed him from all directions. The creepers outside the building were hacked back exposing more needed repairs, which Xavier ordered. The ground floor windows were washed and as scaffolding was erected to assist the masons in repairing the exterior pointing, it was also made use of by the Place’s footmen to clean the upper windows more safely.
The rat catcher arrived and found a few nests under floor boards that he efficiently dealt with. Xavier suspected that the taming of the jungle, that had formerly been his grounds and gardens would reduce the amount of vermin that would attempt to invade the house. However having the rat catcher check for vermin every year during the season would probably be a worthwhile expenditure. Mr Hopwood, the carpenter and his team completed their works around the main house and moved on to deal with repairs to the staff quarters in the stable block and the surrounding out houses and barns. The main barn was largely empty but Xavier suggested to Mr Hopwood that he could set up his workshop in it to prepare doors and windows for the new houses and to store the necessary timbers for their completion there.
The work in the house, grounds and on the new houses continued to Xavier’s satisfaction although he knew that the good weather could not last for ever. In the evenings he continued carving but now Lizzie Fretwell’s staff had cleared out a small room next to the Place’s armoury for him to use as a carving studio. The room had previously been filled with broken furniture, a pile of threadbare linen and other items of little use and value. Most of the previous contents of the room had been ceremoniously taken out and piled onto a bonfire not far from the stable block. So much junk had been filling the room that it had obscured a large window which now lit up the room in the late afternoons until twilight.
There Xavier had taken his tools and one of Mr Hopwood’s apprentices had created shelving and a tool-rack to keep them tidied away. Such odds and ends of timber that were discarded by the carpenters and joiners found their way there and Xavier spent his evening turning them into small figurines of animals or mythical creatures. He would enter a pristine room after supper each night, but before he left in the evening he put his tools away and swept off his work table to the floor. One of the maids would sweep away the saw dust and wood chips from the floor every morning, so it was once more tidy for Xavier to work in the evening.
The armoury had also been tidied and ruthlessly cleaned, but it was still rather less than in its former glory days. It contained a rather battered suit of armour, which purported to have belonged to the first Earl of Kittleton, a couple of shotguns and a few plain rifles. Most of the gun cases remained empty as Xavier had sold off the more expensive items that had been displayed there. Hodges had recently returned Xavier’s duelling pistols from whatever hiding place he had concealed them. It also contained a couple of bedraggled keep nets and Xavier’s fishing tackle. Although it had been some time since Xavier had taken time off to go shooting or fishing.
However since Hector had departed for London, Xavier now found that he must record the estate’s expenditure himself and although he now made a point of paying every bill punctiliously, he had never before kept a ledger of his spending. He had followed Hector’s careful instructions and kept every invoice, marking each paid with the date of payment and his seal. Although he considered his own education somewhat lacking, Xavier was not prepared to admit such record keeping was beyond his skills and hand the job over to Matthew Bayliss.
His handwriting had always been considered excellent, although he found reducing it to the tiny neat columns that Hector had established rather difficult at first. Then having added all the recent transactions at the bottom of the page and feeling pleased with his hard work, he remembered he should produce a sub total and then combine it with the previous page’s total. Xavier had always thought that his mathematical skills were adequate, but he now realised he had never actually totted up a series of differing sums of money down a whole column of figures. In fact he had always imagined that pen pushing like Hector did was an elementary task that any educated man could manage. But his first calculations took some time and then he felt the need to double check, fearing to soil the ledger with an incorrect answer.
It took him much longer than Hector to complete his first few pages of accounts and he was surprised to find he was tired, after a couple of hours of working at his accounts, especially considering it was not physical labour. Still he stuck at it and recorded all transactions every day, carefully keeping his paid bills together with the ledger. He could imagine Celestina doubling with laughter, over how long it had taken him to bring them up to date. Xavier resolved not to mention how difficult he had found it to her, to avoid being embarrassed by her ridicule.
So Xavier spent the last hour of every day in the library doing his accounts, before changing for dinner. He was close to completing his self- appointed task one evening, when the door was knocked upon and then an older man was thrust inside, carrying two crammed full game bags, followed by Matthew Bayliss, who was levelling a shotgun at the man’s back.
Bayliss did not wait for Xavier to give him permission to speak and started right in.
“I caught this man poaching with his bags full of ga
me and your trout. He insists he has permission and that you know him, my lord,” he blurted out breathing hard.
“Thank you, Mr Bayliss. Yes I recognise Enoch Caldercott, my father allowed him to hunt and fish on our land, although I have never given him that permission. It is more than time that I clear up Enoch’s status. Mr Bayliss please sit down and put the safety catch back on that gun,” Xavier declared putting down his pen and sitting back in his chair, before pulling the bell rope. The bell jangled and Millett entered after knocking.
“You wanted me, my lord?”
“Yes, get one of the footmen to take these bags down to Antoine, I think you might prefer not to get your livery stinking of fish.”
Millett beckoned a footman forward and instructed him. They backed out of the room, the footman diffidently grasping the game bags as if they contained live poisonous snakes. Millett closed the door behind him.
***
Matthew Bayliss glanced at the sitting Earl and then looked back at the older man. It took some time for him to comprehend the comparison between them, for Enoch had long untidy grey hair and wore some patched garments that had obviously seen some considerable use. Enoch was a little shorter than Xavier, his back was slightly bent and he carried a little excess meat above his waist. Enoch’s blue eyes had faded a little and his tanned and weather-beaten face had more wrinkles than a pickled walnut. Still there was a noticeable arrogance in his stance and although his nose had been broken more than once, there was a strong similarity between the two men that he had not previously noticed.
***
“Sit down, Enoch, the chairs will soon be re-covered, so it will not matter. I see Mr Bayliss has finally noticed the resemblance between us. A salutary lesson, is it not? To view yourself thirty years on, after a harder life, particularly if I had continued my drinking.”
The Purchased Peer Page 11
