Felicity: An American Girl ROMANCE Pt3, Ch19: Bel Hall, Bristol, and Ben
As they came off the hilltop and into the tree-filled part of the valley between them and the duke's mansion, it occurred to Felicity that the two of them being follwed closely by a now large flock of happy sheep would surely attract attention on way or the other. She expressed her concern verbally. "If someone sees us, your Lordship..."
"Nonsense!" replied Lord Covington with playful haughtiness. "If it is the foul Mr. Gooch you are worried about, then worry not! You have an entire army of the fiercest sheep in England at your heels to protect you, my dear!" And as if to reinforce his comedic notion, another nose bumped Felicity's closest leg.
She was trying awfully hard not to smile. "Perhaps they are convinced that I am one of the Babcock children."
"Mayhaps. And mayhaps not. Sheep are curious creatures, Miss Merriman.' He looked ahead of them, where the path cleared and the manor was just beyond. "Oh ho! 'Twould seem we have indeed attracted attention, for there comes my head groundskeeper, Jones. Hullo, Jones!" He waved to an older man dressed for yard work. But even the older man, servant that he was, was dressed in impressive working garb. Beneath his black tricorn was long grey hair pulled back into a neat queue and dark brown eyes that looked amiable. The man waved back at eric as the distance was quickly closed.
"Mornin', your Grace," said Jones good-naturedly, takin a bow, taking in the sheep amassing about them, and the rather tense-looking young lady with red hair stopping just short of him as the duke continued close to shake his gloved hand. "You seemed to have more than ye started out with!"
Eric smiled a little shyly, immediately reminding Felicity of the way Ben used to smile at her. "So it would seem, my good man. I would like to introduce you to my new friend, Miss felicity Merriman, from the American colonies. She will be residing here under my protection until one of my ships can take her home. Miss Merriman, this is my friend and head groundskeeper, Anthony Jones."
The man called Jones removed his tricorn and bowed again graciously. "Pleased to meet ye, Miss!"
Felicity curtsied uncertainly, doing her very best to be polite. She barely trusted this duke, and wasn't exactly willing to extend that slim trust beyond him just yet. It made her feel rotten, to be so suspicious of people these days. For all she knew these could be the most generous people in England...or not. Time would tell. And it burned her own soul to know that she had become so reluctant. She had become a stranger unto her self. "Nice to meet you, sir," was all the reply she could summon.
"Oh call me Jones, Miss, evr'one does!" He looked around at the gathered sheep. "Dunno where ol' Dudley's gotten to. It's his job to keep these wooleys rounded up! Dudley's our herd dog, Miss. Gettin' on in years, but he's never let me down before." Jones rubbed the back of his neck wonderingly. "Anyways, I hope you'll give the gardens a visit while yer here, Miss. It may be winter an' all, but the holly's beautiful."
"Thank you, I would like to."
"Have you ever seen the like?" eric grinned, gesturing wide with an arm. "They have all taken to Miss Merriman as if she was their mistress!"
Jones grinned back at him. "Happy sheep grows good wool, your Grace."
Eric's eyebrows went up. "You don't say!"
"Eh...no. I reckon not. But it could be true!"
A fluffy white ewe came around Felicity and halted itself right against her knees. Without thinking, she reached down and stroked the top of its head. Absently she said, "It just might be true."
The duke couldn't help but grin at her, too. "Indeed! Perhaps you have brought good luck along with you, Miss Felicity."
Felicity immediately opened her mouth to respond in the negative, to claim that if his suggestion were true, Lettie would be here with her and Ben Davidson would still love her. But she shut her mouth and said nothing, giving her attention to the sheep in front of her. Lord Covington sensed right away that she saw no humor or belief in his suggestion and wondered if she had started feeling ill again, for her face had lost what little color that had begun to return to it.
"We'll leave these wooleys in your capable hands," he said, taking Felicity's arm once more (she looked at him quizzically). "I have contacts and arrangements to make, and I'm sure Miss Merriman would like to get settiled in. Good day to you, Jones."
"Good day, your Grace. Miss Merriman." Jones removed his tricorn and bowed once more. He used his long arms to wave and shoo the sheep back from Felicity and the duke as the two continued on toward the mansion with Perks in tow. Jones had to dart and swing a leg at the sheep to try to keep them from hurrying after Felicity. A loud yapping, black and white border collie streaked out of nowhere, past Felicity and Eric, to join Jones in his ridiculous dance to get the sheep going back to the hillside. Felicity heard Jones shout, "Where ye been, Dudley? Get along, ye wily wooleys! Wot's got inter ever'one?"
Lord Covington chuckled.
The treed path between hill and estate gave way to the breathtaking mansion the duke called home. It was a three-story manor, its decor reflecting both Greek and Georgian influences. Unlike Forsythe Manor, Bel Hall from the outside gave the impression that it was roomy on the inside. Six grand columns, mighty as they were, did not give the impression of gloom and severity as those at the Forsythe house. The long porch that extended from end to end of the jutting center section of the house made for an excellent place to sit outside and look down the also long, rectangular grass lawn that must have been half a mile between house and gate, trimmed on either side by painstakingly neat boxwood hedges. The front of the manor was lined with rose bushes, that Felicity quietly marveled must look beautiful all bloomed out in the spring.
Lord Covington saw her staring at the rose bushes and smiled humbly. "Evangeline tended those roses herself, Miss felicity. She insisted that the job be hers alone. If you are wondering what their colors are, I can assure you that Eve chose only the brightest colors; yellows, pinks, some manner of orange that comes from France...I wish you could be here when they bloom again. One simply cannot gaze upon my wife's work and not be moved."
Felicity was quiet a moment, then looked at him curiously. "That is why you are helping me...Because its what your wife would have wanted you to do, wasn't it." It was not a question, but a suggested assumption.
"Yes. I will not deny it. As I said at the Babcock cottage, Eve would have never stood to see someone sad and scared in her presence. Therefore, nor can I. She would have gone out of her way to see you reunited with your family. 'Twas simply the kind of person she is. Was," he corrected himself, emotion attempting to clog his throat.
"You loved her tremendously." Well of COURSE he did, nitwit! Felicity scolded herself incredulously. Such a flair for the obvious you have there, old girl!
"I still do," Eric said quietly, albeit with a smile. "Come now, let's get you settled in." He took her elbow gently and led her toward the lengthy porch, which had but five steps going up to it all around. Felicity felt immensely small and out-of-sorts, like she ought to be wearing a fancy ball gown in order to be allowed entrance to the place.
Lord Covington had meant to tie Perks's reins to a lampiron near the porch and summon a stable boy to fetch the big stallion, but there came running from the direction of the barn a young, fresh-faced boy of about thirteen, with blue eyes blazing to take the horse's reins. He slowed to a quick stride, lest he plow right into his master. He gave an equally quick bow, removing his tricorn hastily. "Sorry I didn't see you coming sooner, your Grace," he panted apologetically. "Tim and I were having a time with Althea!"
"Althea is my new brood mare," Eric explained to Felicity. "She is still nervous around people." To the youngster he said, "Just be patient with her, Sam. She'll come around. Here you go! Perks has had quite enough attention this morning from human and sheep alike. And this is Miss Merriman; she'll be staying with us a little while."
"A pleasure, Miss Merriman," said young Sam, tipping his hat again.
Felicity smiled and nodded politely.
"Sam, please remove that pink ribbon from my horse's tail, will you? It might give the mares the wrong impression."
Sam grinned as he took the reins from his master. "Certainly, your Grace!" He bowed again and attended to Perks while the duke led Felicity on up the steps.
Felicity gave the duke a worried look, and waited until Sam was gone before she inquired, "Pardon me, your lordship, but should be telling all of your staff my name?"
"There is no reason not to," he replied confidently. "They are my servants. I trust them explicitly and they know it. They also know that if they were to betray my trust not only would they find themselves without a job, but I could make life extremely hard for them afterward as well. Fortunately, most of my servants have been with me since long before I met Evangeline. Like Mr. Jones that you just met, They know me as I know them. We are a family of sorts, and one does not betray family."
Felicity sighed bitterly. "It is not that way at Forsythe Manor."
"That, my dear, does not surprise me."
She nodded, a little more relieved. She wanted desperately to have faith in his words, but she couldn't seem to get past her own reluctance. A sigh escaped her frowning mouth as the duke led her to the double doors, both of which featured gleaming brass handles and beautiful holly wreaths on each door. It gave a nice winter touch to the already impressive place, very unlike Forsythe Manor. Yultide bows could be tied all over Reginald's house and it would still feel like a tomb, Felicity mused.
She had expected the inside of Bel hall to look a lot like Forsythe's interior, but when Lord eric swung the double oaken doors inward, allowing her to enter first, she drew in her breath in awe. It was magnificent, truly magnificent. a place fit for a princess- nay, a duchess- named Evangeline. The striking foyer was airy, with high walls and a high ceiling decorated with splendid high-quality rococo plasterwork. The walls were a pale green. But the thing that impressed Felicity Merriman the most upon entering was a feature she had never seen before in any house she'd ever been in: a domed skylight! It simply illuminated all of the foyer and most of the grand, wide, white marble staircase.
Lord Covington smiled to himself as he closed the double doors, both of which were painted white and richly paneled.
"Its..it's beautiful," Felicity murmured softly.
It gave him a swell of pride to hear such a compliment on his late wife's tastes. "Why, thank you. But you will give yourself the neck stabs if you continue looking up like that."
She blushed, turned to look about at more of the decor, such as paintings of exotic outdoor places that were full of color, the elaborate carvings around entryways, the marble floor, which was not entirely bare, for large exotic-looking rugs in shades of green and blue covered most of it. An aqua-blue Grecian urn sat in a single wall recess- but it was not at all like Reginald's collection of forboding Mediterranean oddities. This was a beautiful vase, with white grapes adorning its neck above a scene of Greek festivity.
"That's just one of many things I brought back from my Grand Tour. I absolutely loved Greece. The people there were so vibrant and healthy."
Felicity nodded passively as she gazed next at the large painting of a sea-side in some splendid place unknown to her. But probably Greek, she assumed, seeing as how the main influence here was Greek. It featured hills and exotic-looking trees. She was immediately compelled to ask questions about the place in the painting, but didn't get a chance to, for in walked a tall, sharply-dressed fellow of about fifty-some in age. He wore spectacles and a short peruke wig, and had an easy-mannered look about him as he went to Eric and bowed briefly.
"We were wondering where you had gotten to this morning, your Grace," he said well-manneredly. "Tea is served!" He looked at Felicity standing at the painting and bowed again. "Good day, Miss!"
"Lazlo, my good man, this is Miss Felicity Merriman from the Colonies. She is to be our guest for a while."
"Ah, yes, the young lass you found on the hillside," affirmed the man, with an acknowledging smile. Felicity had tensed- her natural reaction these days- and was not too keen on a complete stranger knowing about her without her knowing of him. She looked at the duke, her expression demanding explanation.
"Felicity, this is my head man, or butler, if you will, Mr. Lazlo Bevins. Laz has been with me since i was old enough to have my first shave! He is a completely reliable chap. I trust him with my life."
As the butler blushed, Felicity wondered, Aye, but can I trust him with mine? But as soon as she thought it, her feelings turned self-loathing. Oh good God, I never used to be like this! I hate it! I used to like people. I used to like myself. Now I am a souless statue and everyone I meet is evil! If I ever do return to Williamsburg again I will not know how to carry on around people, not that my reputation is worth a shilling anymore. Will I ever be normal again?
"Pleased to meet you," Felicity said emotionlessly, curtsying without thinking.
"The pleasure is all mine, young Miss. Welcome to Bel Hall." He bowed for her, and Felicity felt nervous all over, for she was not used to anyone bowing to her so graciously like this. "Will you be joining us for tea?"
Not knowing how to respond to that, Felicity looked to the duke for her answer. Any other time she would hate having someone answer for her, but as lousy as she still felt, she didn't mind at all.
"Miss Merriman would like to get comfortable, first, Laz," Eric said gently. "Tell Magdaline to bring her up some hot tea, scones, muffins, whatever our guest desires. By the way, where is Magda-?"
"Oh I'm right here, laddie! Ye'd fall apart if'n it weren't fer me!" From one of the many open, arched entryways branching off from the foyer came a rotund, bustling older woman clad in a maid's grey garb, but even as a maid her clothing was very well-to-do; lacy and lovely underneath a frilly apron. She had rosy cheeks, motherly brown eyes and a head full of grey but naturally curly hair that seemd to defy the frilly mobcap stuck on top of it. Felicity's first impression was that the woman could be a relative of Unguin Babcock.
"Indeed I would, Maggie," the duke chuckled. "Felicity, this is Magdaline, or Maggie, as she prefers. She's as dear to me as my own late mum! If not for her, I would've broken my neck sliding down those very banisters there when I was a lad."
"An' I am not convinced that ye've outgrown the habit!" scolded Maggie, wagging her motherly plump finger at him.
"Ah, yes, I am still a handful, am I not? Maggie, my dear, this is Miss-"
"Felicity Merriman from His Majesty's Colonies! I know, I know! I heard you an' Laz blatherin' as I was comin' from the kitchen!" Maggie bustled forward and clasped both of Felicity's small white hands in her larger tanned ones, which were worn from years of household duties. "I'm Maggie, m'love, I'll see ye in comfortably. Come with me."
Felicity did not object as Maggie took her arm companionably and led her to the beautiful white staircase. Behind them, still standing with his butler, the duke called, "She hasn't been here but a moment, and you seek to deprive me of my guest?"
"Aye, that's right!" returned Maggie, not even stopping to look around as she and Felciity started up the stairs. "How often do we get a lady visitor anymore?"
Felicity wanted to protest. "But I'm not a- "
"Oh shush, now. Ev'ry girl's a lady." Louder, to the duke and Lazlo she called, "She's a thin as a rail! She needs looking after!"
Eric looked at Lazlo and grinned. "She has found female company. We shant see Miss Merriman ever again!"
Lazlo laughed in agreement. " 'Tis been quite a while since she's had someone to fuss over, what with her daughter married off. Your guest seems to have all of the qualifications of filling that daughterly void, your Grace."
He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Laz, let's you and me have that nice hot tea. I've got some contacts with old friends to renew and I need your help."
"Certainly, my lord."
Then the rainstorm came, over me
And I felt my spirit break
I had lost all of my belief, you see
And realized my mistake
But time threw a prayer to me
And all around me became still
I need love, love's divine
Please forgive me now I see that I've been blind
Give me love, love is what I need
to help me know my name
-lyrics from 'Love's Divine' by Seal
March 1782
The ship had been blown off course several times by difficult windstorms and had been making for the western coast of Ireland, but the crew of the Titania had gotten her back on course after a great deal of struggle. Benjamin Davidson felt assured that God had meant for him to make it to Bristol, England so that he could find his beloved. He had banished from his thoughts all of the taunting 'what if's' and the menacing 'maybe she's not here anymore's', so that he could dwell on the only thought that did matter: He was getting closer and closer to where Felicity was. From the moment the Titania entered the Bristol Channel he was up on deck, standing at the railing on the forecastle beside the bowsprit, as if he was already scanning the shores for her.
And now here he was, standing on the Bristol quay as the sun was beginning to set in a partly cloudy sky, giving everything a reddish gold glow and casting long shadows in an unfamiliar city. He was already tensed, his mood urgent. He was waiting for Arthur Pratt and the rowmen to assist Elizabeth Cole up out of the boat that had brought them from the Titania along with their meagre bags. The three of them had hidden on their persons enough money to purchase anything they required on land, but as far as Ben was concerned his only requirement for survival was Felicity.
Now Elizabeth and Arthur were very much aware that Ben wanted to set off for Forsythe Manor just as soon as they all set foot on the quay. They had acknowledged between the two of them that he would be difficult to reason with once they got ashore, for he had seemed to be building up emotionally during the trip, and they were prepared to deal with any sort of frustrations he was reasy to vent. He'd always been the quiet sort, who kept things hidden inside most of the time...but even Ben Davidson had a breaking point. He looked very ready to achieve it.
Once Elizabeth was up on the boardwalk, she and Arthur immediately spoke to the British lieutenant who had come on shore with them about securing rooms for the night. He would see them to the Stag's Head Inn, a place of decent repute where the delightful 'Mrs. Elizabeth Pratt, her husband and accompanying friend' would be well taken care of. It had occured to young Ben that they might be able to get help from the British soldier about finding Felicity, but Elizabeth had advised against it. She apparently had other plans for going about getting Felicity back and he was anxious to get started.
Arthur Pratt had been a sickly shade of green the entire trip and needed to be on solid ground awhile, as well as needing a good night's sleep. Elizabeth herself, having been able to endure the trip far better than her fiance, was utterly worn out. In order to help Ben find Felicity, the two Brits needed at least a night to collect themselves, Getting Ben to understand that would not be easy.
While the redcoated lieutenant went to get them a carriage to the inn, Ben could not keep still: he paced like a pent up lion, back and forth in front of Elizabeth and Arthur, his eyes constantly moving, looking for Felicity, Forsythe, anything at all that might be of some use to him. A middle-aged man with a lantern and a long pole was going from lamp post to lamp post, lighting the whale-oil lamps that dotted the quay here and there in preparation of the oncoming night. As he passed Elizabeth and Arthur with a nod and a tip of his hat, Ben glared at him as if he were someone to be suspicious of.
Underneath the long black cloak he wore, one of his gloved hands rested upon his holstered dragoon pistol. He was ready for anything.
"Ben," Elizabeth began as kindly as she could (considering that she felt as if she were still afloat), "I know you want to start looking for Lissie immediately, but you need to rest first. All three of us do. We'll all feel better after a hot dinner and decent night's sleep without being tossed from a cot."
"Fine, then. You rest," he grumbled absently whilst pacing. "I will find out where the damned manor is and break the door down myself.'
Elizabeth sighed. "Ben, you cannot just go bursting into the guarded home of a lord, making demands. You will not be helping Felicity any by getting yourself thrown into a gaol! Listen to me. We need to go about this in an intelligent manner, so that we can get Felicity away safely."
"The time for 'intelligence' is long past, Beth! If we had been intelligent in the first place, none of this would be happening. We wouldn't need to be here! If you and Arthur want to eat and sleep, go right ahead. I can do neither as long as I am so close to getting Felicity back!"
When Arthur spoke he sounded queasy but logical. "You need sleep more than either one of us do, my friend. I am convinced that you did not sleep at all, storms or not. 'Twould not be any help to Felicity if you were to fall ill, either."
He gestured wildly, crazily, and snapped, "Well what am I supposed to do, Arthur, now that we are here? Wait for Forsythe to come to us? How can you even suggest letting Felicity endure yet another night under that bastard's roof? God only knows what she is having to endure even now as we speak!"
The quays and boardwalks were not as busy as they were during the day, but yet there a few roaming people around, either going home or closing up their meagre little shops and pubs. Heads were turning in their direction, but no one approached them. As dangerous as Ben was getting and as tired as she was, Elizabeth silently thanked the lord there were not very many people still out. "Please, Ben," she attempted again, "do not be so cross with us. We know how you feel, truly we do! Yes, we are here now, and we will do whatever it takes to get to Felicity. But we cannot do a decent thing for her if we are all dead on our feet!"
"I'm fine," he assured them, with a touch of underlying insantiy in his tone. He was actually trembling with anger and frustration. "But if I have to go alone, mark me, I will!"
Elizabeth and Arthur looked at one another and sighed hopelessly. "Mayhaps we will have to conk him with a brick," Arthur suggested. "Whereabouts does one find a brick on a quay, in the near-dark? At this hour?"
"Not funny, Arthur," Ben scowled grumpily.
"Look," Elizabeth said to them tightly, "here comes Lieutenant Rogers with a carriage. Ben, you will behave civily and come with us to the inn. There you will have a decent meal and we will talk in private about what we are to do tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Can you at least try to manage that?"
Arthur appealed to him as well. "Please, young Benjamin, do not argue with an irate woman. Things are foul enough as it is!"
"Not funny, Arthur," scolded Elizabeth, very much like a wife.
With tremendous reluctance Ben bit his tongue and got into the carriage with his friends, while the helpful lieutenant sat up top with the driver. A lantern was lit inside the carriage, swaying crazily as the carriage rattled over cobblestones, and even seemed to be going uphill for a few minutes. He wondered if Felicity had been taken this way, if she had been able to be aware of her surroundings at all. What had her state of mind been like? He had spotted the tall, impressive steeple of St. Mary Redcliffe in the not-so-far-off distance, and, oblivious of the name of the church it belonged to, wondered if Felicity had seen it, too. Oh how knotted his insides were at the thought of being close to Forsythe Manor and not doing anything right at this moment! His body felt extremely heavy and tired, but he believed himself to be deserving of whatever pain was inflicted upon him. How in the world was he to sleep this night, knowing that Felicity was not far off. Was she able to sleep?
And it hurt so deeply to know that Felicity would not know anything about them being here to fetch her home. She was probably convinced that no one was coming for her at all. 'Twas himself he hated. From the looks of Elizabeth's face in the taunting, swirling light, she was deep in unmeasurable self-loathing and guilt as well. Arthur just looked physically sick. Sea voyages did not agree with him at all.
I'm here, Lissie, my love. I am coming to get you and take you home, and we are going to be married and begin to live our lives together as we should have already been doing!
Somehow he was not reassuring to himself. Somehow he felt that the damage he had inflicted that horrible day and the nightmare she'd been forced to endure would have taken its toll on the Felicity that she used to be. He feared that she would be drastically different. But it didn't matter as far as his love for her and his longing for her was concerned. Oh no, nothing could change that. They belonged together just as sure as the sun rose everyday, rain or shine. He was hers forever.
But would she still want to be his?