Shockley! So unobservant to her doings-as most men are, thank God, for I in my green youth (and you in yours, no error) both profitted from 'abandoned' women.
"Hard though it may be for you to feature it, and hard as it is for me to admit, sorely tempted though I am to give her a Tumble, there is her Husband, a most decent Fellow, and the very idea of abusing his Trust and Hospitality quite rightly daunts me. Notwithstanding losing immense profits from our mutual Enterprises, d'ye see! Pecuniary fear of Loss is not my only motive, however. Besides, I've a new one, hired by the half-evening who bears a passing likeness to Lady Lucy, new-come from Leeds, of most fetching Aspect, and (or so I speculate) as ripely blessed, and of similar pleasingly round Dimensions, not above twenty, who avails when fantasies anent Lucy come upon me."
"Oh, good for you, ye old beard-splitter," Lewrie groaned.
His father had been round to see Theoni Connor and Lewrie's by-blow, Alan James Connor, too, reporting that he was now a pretty little lad of two, toddling and prattling. Theoni sent her love, o' course.
"By the by," Sir Hugo gushed onward, "that gentlemen's Lodgings I proposed, with Sir Malcolm Shockley's eager backing once I had laid out the Particulars and Advantages to him, is now open. We obtained a rather fine 1st Rate residence, only slightly gone to seed. Upon your safe return (pray God) to England, you will be in awe.
"It sits on the corner of Wigmore St. and Duke St., just off and convenient to Oxford Baker Sts., thus easy to find, with dependable carriage service, and convenient to Govt., Finance, etc. It takes the entire corner, in point of fact, quite a palazzo, now set up for fifty with all the desired Amenities; common room, reading room, dining, etc. I myself, lacking my Panton St. house, would be tempted to engage a set of rooms, and, needless to say, should you and Caroline not have Reconciled by your return from foreign Service, you will be assured of a most lavish roof over your head, all at a tidy discount for kin, ho!"
"Notice he don't offer t'put me up under his own roof, catlin'?" Lewrie softly scoffed. "Nor free, either, the old miser."
He interpreted Toulon's blink and ear-flick to mean "ain't it a miserable shame."
Unfortunately, his father had had little progress to report when it came to making Caroline see sense. She was not going to pursue any Bill of Divorcement; quite rightly they had both surmised that it would be too expensive a proposition, with too much public shame attached… and too much enforced contact with her old, spurned beau, Harry Embleton, who, as her Member of Commons, would have to present the Bill in London. At least Caroline had sense enough to avoid that otter-faced fool!
There had been, by last report, no further "dear friend" notes sent her, for the simple reason, Sir Hugo concluded, that he was at sea, beyond the reach of that anonymous gossip's spiteful ken, and all his previous peccadilloes had been revealed. Supposedly.
"You are, I trust," his father had snidely penned, "if not keeping your breeches buttoned, at least possessed of enough Caution to not flaunt any of your Venereal doings in Publick, hmm?"
"As if you ever did," Lewrie grumbled. "Swear t'Christ, did he get to Heaven, he'd tip Saint Peter the wink, and ask where the whores kept! Ha… knew it, the old rogue."
For there had followed an entire paragraph touting the advantages of "balancing one's humours" with the whores, and never squiring one out in the daytime, or to any function where one's peers in Society might remark you-hardly the thing for an English gentleman, married or no, much less a Serving Officer, etc., and etc.
"Taught his granny t'suck eggs, too, most-like," Lewrie groaned some more. He'd heard that particular lecture at least once a month, since he'd pinched the bottom of his first pubescent scullery maid at thirteen. "Never admit paternity, were there fifty before you," Lewrie sing-songed under his breath, "never lose yer head over any coy slice o' mutton… think o' yer family's good name. Oh. Right. We never had one." He snickered, reaching for his mug of cool tea.
His father's letter was discontinuous, at that, for he'd left the worst news, and three matters of the most import, 'til the last. First was the matter of young Miss Sophie de Maubeuge, his ward. She had fled Anglesgreen for London, and was now living with his father, serving as mistress (in the innocent sense, his father quickly assured him!) of his new town house!
"Caroline has gotten it into her head, and clings to the Opinion despite all Protestations to the contrary, that you and poor wee Sophie were at one time, she cannot settle upon which, intimate!" Sir Hugo informed him. "Aboard that French frigate you sailed out of Toulon, in Lisbon before you packed her off to England, in some stolen moments during your two short shore leaves since this war began, it don't signify to her. Either, or all, feature in her Accusations, depending upon the day of the week, and, had I not known Caroline's sweet Nature before, I would be forced upon an initial Acquaintance now to be convinced she was Tetched! Level-headedness and her usual kind Demeanour quite fly her, once she gets on the Topic. Needless to say, it all created such an impossible Situation for poor Sophie, such glares and frowns, such harsh and quibblesome Speech, finding so much fault with even the simplest domestic tasks, that Matters came to a Head several weeks ago. There were shouts, Accusations made, Refutations offered yet dismissed, to the point that Sophie packed, summoned a coach, and turned up on my doorstoop un-announced, reduced to Tears and Whimpers, and I could not deny her Shelter, as I am certain you will understand. So suddenly denied any Freedom in Anglesgreen, so isolated to the farm as she was, Sophie has at last recovered her cheerful Equanimity, and now quite relishes going about the City with me."
"Now that must cramp his style!" Lewrie cynically hooted.
"Daughters," his father had marvelled, "in Sophie's case, granddaughter, after a fashion. Somehow I feel that due to my wastrel ways (none of which I truly regret, mind) I might have missed something in Life by not being Engaged in Children's raisings, for young women are quite delightful Creatures to watch blossom. I have always felt Avuncular or Grand-Fatherly anent Sophie's development, for so she calls me Grand-Pere, but, one might almost deem my feelings Paternal, now, when closely engaged with her Welfare, in protecting her from the harshest Aspects of Life… or rake-hells such as me, in younger guise. Rest assured that Sophie only attends the most uplifting and chaste Amusements and Events, with me (of all people!) her guard. Church, Theatre, Concerts, and Galleries, only the tasteful raree shows, dines only with respectable Society, etc. And, do we attend a Ball, Rout, or Drum, her dance partners must pass my Muster, first- and she is home and snug in her chambers at a reasonable Hour. No matter this places upon me a hellish restraint, I feel it is my Duty, in your stead, to…"
"Knew he'd complain a tad, anyway," Lewrie chuckled, imagining how corseted the old whore-monger must be, all for appearance's sake, and for Sophie's future "respectable" marriage prospects. "And he's not touchin' me up for a contribution t'help dress and feed her."
The second grimmer matter concerned his boys, Sewallis and Hugh nigh-imprisoned at their bleakly strict boarding school in Guildford. Despite how involved his father'd been with his new house, his arrangements for his country estate, and gentlemen's club, he had tried to keep in touch with the lads, but had gotten no responses to his letters. When down to Anglesgreen, he had called upon Caroline to enquire how they kept… and had not liked the answers.
The few letters that Caroline had gotten had been vague, filled with what sounded, to his suspicious ears, like rote phrases dictated by the headmaster and headmistress or their few employed instructors. This had occurred shortly before Sophie had "eloped," so Lewrie could understand, in retrospect, that the tensions had already been treacle-thick, which had not improved Caroline's acceptance of his worries; as if any questions he had concerning their welfare was a criticism of Caroline's decision to board them away at an austere public school, or a suggestion that she did not fret over them as a Proper Mother ought!