The Purchased Peer Read online

  Kittleton Place no longer much resembled the engraving done years before, for a guide to the historic stately buildings of England. The text which had accompanied the engraving had lauded the formal gardens, set in a gracious estate surrounded by agricultural land owned by the estate of the Earl of Kittleton. The door to the closed carriage was opened and a huge man stepped out. Even tall men would be dwarfed by this immense figure, who was dressed in a dark overcoat and three cornered hat with a large green feather. He turned and handed down a much smaller figure. A lady of only average height dressed in darkest green velvet and heavily veiled. The three gigs did not move, nor did their occupants descend.

  The front door to the house was closed, but when the giant knocked on it, a small man in dark livery opened it a crack.

  “His Lordship is not receiving, he is not at home,” squeaked the small man on seeing the size of the man on his doorstep.

  “Nonsense, Hodges, his lordship has nowhere else to go. Now let us in this instant,” insisted the female who stepped forward ahead of her henchman. As if impelled by an inexorable force, Hodges opened the door to admit them and they marched promptly in.

  “Which way is the Earl, Hodges? I haven’t got all day,” the lady asked with the tone of someone who expected her orders to be obeyed immediately.

  Hodges obeyed without questioning the lady, leading them to what should have been a library, although the curtains were closed and the overwhelming smell was of stale brandy. They carefully stepped around a number of empty bottles, before they could see through the gloom that the room was occupied. Sprawled and snoring gently was a large dark haired man, seriously dishevelled with his long pitch black curls in disorder. It was clear that he had not shaved for some days and the crimson velvet coat he wore was crumpled and stained. Despite the neglect of his person, Xavier Falconer, the ninth Earl of Kittleton was still an incredibly handsome man. He made no response at all to the entry of his visitors.

  The lady glanced around before finding an armchair which was not cluttered with papers or empty bottles and carefully sat down.

  “Hector, the Earl, water pump, please,” she said enigmatically to the giant who promptly strolled over to the sleeping Earl, picked him up under one arm and marched back out with the unconscious peer.

  “Now Hodges, get those curtains drawn and the window open, then clear away all these bottles,” the veiled woman ordered and Hodges rushed to do her bidding.

  ***

  Xavier stirred as he was lifted from his chair and carried out by the giant unceremoniously. He woke to find himself moving and now tossed over the giant’s shoulder. Xavier tried to comprehend this movement as Hector easily located the stable pump, he dumped the earl none too gently on the ground beneath it, causing his eyes to flicker open, but he then shut them again as he suddenly became aware of strong sunlight. Hector started the water flowing fast down on the inebriated peer. That was when Xavier began to yell. Xavier staggered to his feet fast almost falling over, but the giant kept on pumping with one hand while holding him directly in the stream of the icy water.

  “What the damnation are you doing, stop that at once…” he spluttered still under the torrent of water. He tried to pull away, but Hector was holding tight to his upper arm.

  “Unhand me at once…” he spluttered and choked. Then the earl found that his stomach contents were mobile and determined to leave his body. The water flow stopped while Xavier retched, bringing up the remains of his last night’s drinking session. After a while he stopped heaving and he turned to remove himself from the vicinity of the stable yard, only to find himself thrust back under the pump, by this giant he had never seen before. Xavier was fairly certain he had never seen him before, even in the rather rattled state his brains were in.

  “Stop, please stop,” he protested feebly but to no avail as he was ruthlessly drenched. He swung a fist but the mountain shrugged it off, further blows with his hands landed but were ignored. Then he felt ill again and the lasts dregs of what remained inside him decided to come up. He did not feel much better after he had been sick again, but the mountain pushed his face directly under the next torrent of water to wash away any traces. Redirecting the water with his hands was as ineffective as his attempts sporadically to batter his tormentor, but eventually the water stopped and a big hand patted him on the back as though he was a puppy. Then he was hustled back into the house dripping wet and cold despite the warmth of the day.

  ***

  It was some twenty minutes later when Hector returned frogmarching a dripping wet Earl, who was very much conscious and not in a much better mood.

  “Hodges, please find your master some dry clothes and hurry. Hector, make sure he does not bolt.”

  Hodges returned a few minutes later, looking concerned and frightened.

  “They won’t be very long, your, er, ladyship,” he declared.

  “Good, is there any tea in this house, Hodges? Could you make some?”

  “His lordship does not like tea, ma’am, but I think there is some still.”

  “Good at present I care not what his lordship likes, but you, Hodges, are not in any danger, so please make me some tea.”

  ***

  Xavier returned to the room in front of Hector, frustrated at having attempted to escape. His resistance had gained him a few new bruises from the giant’s huge fingers. The giant named Hector had merely grabbed his arm and held on tight, while my lord had tried unsuccessfully to batter the giant into submission. His head was screamingly sore, and his stomach ached and retched still, since it had lost its contents several times under the kitchen pump. His knuckles were scraped from attempting to pummel the monolith, to no effect. Xavier had not even succeeded in making Hector lose his temper. Hector had merely stood in the doorway of his dressing room and instructed him to “Dress.” An order that he repeated several times until Xavier obeyed.

  The giant did not seem to hold him in any particular dislike, but any attempt to get out of his reach was prevented by those huge hands. Hector had even smiled at him, when he had finished dressing and said “Well done.” Xavier had expected one of those huge hands to pat him on the head, as if he was some pampered pet or a child. When in reality he was a grown man and an English peer.

  Xavier’s mind was beginning to work and he had come to the conclusion that the question he needed answering, was, who was the veiled lady? Hector was clearly a minion who would obey her bidding. He had been expecting the end to come, but had thought they would be burly dour men in badly made clothes who would try to throw him out of Kittleton Place, if Mephistopheles himself did not come for him sooner. But while Hector loomed around, perhaps it was in his interests to try and be agreeable, at least until he knew what it was that the lady wanted.

  Reaching the library, he attempted a bow, it was definitely not his best effort and he returned to his seat behind the desk. He moved some of the papers to one side and turned to look at Hodges who was serving tea to the lady. Hodges was trying not to catch his master’s eye and looked decidedly sheepish.

  “Hodges, bring wine, please,” Xavier declared hoping to ease the headache that was trying to thump its way out between his eyes.

  “Water, Hodges. I have business to discuss with your master. He will remain conscious and sober until I have finished.”

  Hodges left the room without looking at Xavier once, which Xavier considered peculiar. Hodges, his valet had stuck by him through everything, but now was clearly obeying this invading woman instead of him. He squinted in the light coming through the window trying to ascertain who she was and what she looked like. He did not recognise her voice, but it had the air of command. She seemed to be of average height and from what he could imagine was nicely shaped, but of her face or hair he could see nothing.

  His mind considered the problem of what it was she wanted of him, but then decided that she would soon inform him. So he smiled and addressed her.

  “What can I do to help you, ma’am? Have we been
introduced?”

  “No my lord, we have not been introduced. I am Celestina Blighton. You have probably never heard of me, but I am a very rich woman, although I am what you would call a cit. I suggest you listen to what I propose.”

  He nodded in reply although the movement hurt his head.

  “You, my lord, are one step from being thrown on the streets. If you were not a peer you would have been incarcerated in the Fleet prison, for your debts are long overdue and are more than your dwindling estate is worth. I intend to make you an offer, you would be foolish to refuse, because should you to do so, you will be made homeless. This is a simple business proposition. I own much of your debts, so your future rests in my hands.”

  Xavier gasped at this. Miss Blighton had gone to the trouble of buying up his debts. He wondered what she wanted from him, considering that he had little left which he owned. She was correct; his debts were worth far more than the assets remaining to him. She had paused and continued now that he taken in what she had said.

  “I have as much money as I will ever need, but I have no heir. For an heir I need a husband and it was suggested to me that I buy myself an impoverished peer. So having considered those available, I have decided to buy you. I do not need a son, a daughter will be sufficient, but you will not embarrass me by drunkenness. Do you understand what I want from you?”

  “Yes, I do, ma’am, but why me? There are plenty of unmarried peers whose finances are in a poor state who would jump at the offer.”

  “Most of them are fat, ugly or balding. I don’t like fat men and you were the prettiest still unmarried. In return for marriage, I will restore your estates and house to a semblance of how they should be and they will be reassigned into your name, when you have got me with child. If I lose the child, the deal still stands. My terms for the marriage are simple, you will cease to drink strong liquor, you may consume a bottle and a half of wine a day, but nothing stronger. You will not gamble so much as a farthing piece on anything, cards, dice, horses, cocks or dogs. You simply will not gamble. And for the duration of our marriage you will not have relations with any other women.”

  “Do you agree to my terms?” Xavier made no movement and said nothing as if considering his options.

  “I agree, Miss Blighton, I will arrange for the notices to be put in the papers. Will you please do me the honour of marrying me?” He asked with a hint of sarcasm, as he carefully rose and sketched a bow.

  “My offer is of course conditional on you not being afflicted by the French disease. A doctor will examine you to confirm you are not poxed. Hector, fetch the doctor, please.”

  Hector departed and escorted a plump, pompous looking man in. The man was carrying a bulging brown leather briefcase, which Xavier expected to contain medical implements and powders. He was about to protest about this indignity, but with one small gesture from the lady, Hector moved towards him and he found his feet were heading towards the door, at least partly of their own volition. Xavier was beginning to wish, that Hodges had not stopped him from blowing his brains out the week before, because he did not think this day could get much worse. He had been carried and forcibly held under a shower of very cold water, bundled back into some dry clothes, threatened with eviction and agreed to marry a strange woman unseen, through which his headache was reaching monumental proportions.

  The doctor was thorough and unpleasantly painstaking in his examination, but Xavier redressed and returned to the room. The doctor and Hector following him back in.

  “He is clean of disease and although his liver is a little swollen, my lord should serve your purpose, ma’am,” declared the doctor.

  “Thank you Doctor Fiston, you have been very efficient, you may go with my thanks, please send me your bill. Hector escort Doctor Fiston to his carriage and bring me the lawyer.”

  The doctor bowed his way out and left with Hector, his gig was soon heard moving away, but Hector returned accompanied by a tall, thin, wrinkled man wearing a pair of pince-nez spectacles. This man carried a folder of papers bound by some pink tape.

  “Mr Keayne, has some papers for you to sign, they basically list the terms we have agreed on and confirm that my fortune will not be transferred to you on marriage. They set up a trust which protects my fortune.”

  The lawyer got out a number of documents and marked them with a pencil in a number of places for Xavier to sign. Xavier located a pen and did so. The lady added her signature after his and Mr Keayne and Hector added theirs witnessing their signatures. One set of the documents, the lawyer swept up and rebound in his folder, the other set he left with Xavier. The lawyer nodded to Celestina and then left promptly as if used to her ways. Hector accompanied him and the sounds of a pair of horses drawing a small carriage were heard leaving the house. Hector returned this time with a sandy haired man of average build, whom Xavier recognised. Reverend Lytchefelde was a prosy man, who did not need to wear clerical dress to identify him as the local vicar. Xavier had been on the wrong end of a number of the Reverend’s sermons, despite the fact that his living was technically in his control.

  Reverend Lytchefelde had made his position clear on the failings of his lord’s character, expressing his view that hell awaited him on a number of occasions. The lady removed a folded document from her over large reticule and handed it to the vicar.

  “The special licence is in order, ma’am. But I would advise against marrying the Earl of Kittleton. He is a drunkard, a debauched fornicator and a heretic who will burn in the flames of hell.”

  “I am well aware of his lordship’s drinking and rakery. And his religious beliefs do not greatly concern me. Now since the special licence is in order, will you marry us as quickly as possible Reverend, please? You will be adequately compensated for your time.”

  “Very well, dearly beloved, we are gathered here together to …”

  “The short version, Reverend, please” Miss Blighton cut in.

  Chapter Two – Consummation

  “Is there a ring?” the clergyman asked in a half whisper. Xavier had looked blank because even if he could have got off his signet ring, it was clearly too big for the delicate fingers revealed beneath the dark folds of Miss Blighton’s veil. Hector however produced a small ring box, which opened to display a canary yellow diamond of some considerable clarity and carat weight. Xavier removed the ring and placed it on the offered finger.

  “And now I declare you man and wife, you may kiss the bride,” the vicar declared. Xavier stepped forward to lift his bride’s veil and his new Countess stepped back fast.

  “Thank you Reverend. You will inform your congregations on Sunday of the Earl’s marriage. You will let them know his new Countess will be paying any outstanding debts and will be re-employing gardeners, grooms, maids and footmen, cooks and kitchen workers,” Celestina declared, continuing on speedily.

  “Any former employees who are owed wages can apply at the house for repayment. We will also be requiring a carpenter and a plasterer for repairs. Do you think you can do that, Reverend?”

  “Yes of course, my Lady,” the vicar obsequiously bowed to her and headed for the door. Lady Kittleton drew a sizeable money bag from her reticule.

  “Can you catch, Reverend?” She said, tossing it to him, which he only just managed to catch. “That is for conducting our wedding service and a contribution from us, towards your new school, Reverend Lytchefelde.”

  “Thank you very much, your ladyship.”

  The vicar scuttled out without needing Hector’s escort and was soon heard driving away.

  “Hodges, how long is it since you were paid?”

  “A year or so,” he muttered embarrassedly.

  “Nearly three years I am afraid, my Lady,” Xavier admitted shamefacedly.

  “That will never do,” she said counting out his back wages to Hodges.

  “Hodges, you are not to buy brandy for your master, or to loan him money for any reason. Until I can be sure he will stick to our contract, I prefer not to encumber hi
m with too much coinage. Hector will stay here and start paying off my lord’s remaining debts and getting the house back into a habitable condition. Now I can return to London and will return on Friday night when I hope this house is in a cleaner condition.”

  “I think not, my lady. There is one matter you have forgotten. Neither your contract nor our marriage is valid until it is consummated.”

  “That can wait until Friday night, when I will return,” Celestina snapped in reply.

  “No my lady, tonight out marriage will be consummated or I will tear up this contract and declare it void. You are my wife and even though I may not control your fortune and I am only your purchased peer, on this matter I will not budge. If you have married me in good faith, you will spend our marriage night in my bed.”

  “Hodges, Hector you heard his lordship, ensure his bedroom is clean enough for me to inhabit and Hodges, heat enough water to bath and shave his lordship. Since we are to stay here tonight Hector, please send our coachman to the nearest inn, ‘The Royal Oak,’ I believe it is called and arrange for supper for five, no seven, to be delivered.”

  ***

  By the time Jeffreys returned with a generous supper, my Lord had been bathed and shaved. A number of bedrooms had been rudimentarily cleaned and tidied, although the new Countess was convinced that they were still riddled with vermin. Fires had been lit to reduce any damp even though it was still summer. It had been cold and wet so far that year. The smaller dining room had been swept and the table covered with a clean but shabby cloth. Hodges managed to locate a mismatch of crockery and implements with which to eat the repast. If my Lord thought it strange to sit down for a meal with his valet, his Countess and her henchman Hector as well as her coachman, he did not mention it. Jeffreys having delivered the meal; had been requested to stable the horses and make them as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.