We are still sticking with Caroline's POV, but now this is her second chapter out of three. I am flying by the seat of my pants regarding the mushroom operation, so those with more knowledge, every time you give me a salient detail I have tried to incorporate it. Just a heads up, below we are given even more reasons to hate Hatchington. He will get his, but you still have to wait for it.

67. A Fight, Three Letters and Denture Breath

As he continued to point out new mushrooms to me, Percy seemed to be wanting my praise for all the types of mushrooms he grew, for his expertise and proficiency. But that was something I simply could not do. He was making me live in a cesspool and expected me to save my poo so that he could grow mushrooms we would eat from it.

At that moment it came to me that my husband had kissed and touched me with hands that had been contaminated with the waste from him and his servants. More than the horrid smell all around me, this turned my stomach, was a most awful thought. In consequence, vomit threatened to burst from my stomach out my mouth. As we proceeded on the tour, I pondered that if I need heave, whether I should spew into one of the containers or onto the floor.

I imagined how Percy would react if I contaminated his precious mushrooms with my half-digested breakfast and bile. Would he be angry at me? Would he croon sympathetically to the mushrooms as he cleaned them off? Would he in fact act as a kind husband and instead attend to me? These thoughts amused me enough that I was able to gradually settle my stomach. I kept reminding myself that it would soon be over, and I could retreat again upstairs. Perhaps I could stuff linen under my door to keep even more of the odor of the mushroom growing concern out of what I was ever more considering my only sanctuary.

Finally, we were through with the tour of the main floor of the house, having concluded with seeing the kitchen (which was clean and well-organized). We went out a back door to the garden. The garden was not much to look at, just a small kitchen plot (which appeared to be growing some herbs and carrots). Near the wall separating the Mushroom House from the back of the house a block over, there were a couple of trees and a moss-covered crumbling stone bench. This I sank to in gratitude, despite the danger that it might dirty my dress. London is not known for its clean air, for factories belch smoke, carriage horses drop their dung where they will, garbage rots, and street urchins use every dark corner for a necessary, but it was so much better than the air inside the house.

Percy dropped down next to me with a contented sigh. "So now, Linny, you have seen all that I do. I take pride in what I have accomplished as I think is only right. A decade back all I knew of mushrooms was just found in a book, but one day on a whim I hired a mushroom hunter and went on an expedition with him. It became a fond hobby of mine to take a couple of weeks and go in search of them. It likely would not have ever led to anything more had Livvy's mother not died suddenly.

"I just could not stay at the estate when every room was filled with memories of my wife. I began taking mushroom hunting expeditions to every far reach of the country. That was the only time I felt alive. But then it seemed to me, that there was no good reason why mushrooms could not be grown for amusement. I took up residence here and began to experiment. Every cultivation you have seen began with finding wild varieties and determining how to grow them inside. It has become my new life's work, the thing that gave meaning to my life again."

I turned to him and did my best to temper my words before I spoke (never an easy thing for me to do, and one that I had rarely attempted before my married life began). I said, "I am glad my lord, that mushrooms gave you a reason to live." After that, I am afraid I sorely failed in my attempt, but for not using the foul language that all women have heard but that they are never to repeat. I told him, with every sincerity, "I cannot and will not ever want to live with those horrid mushrooms growing from our waste, and seeing how you tend them with your bare hands is abhorrent. Living in such filth, smelling such a stench, why it is a vile, vile thing! Why I-"

"Stop!" Percy roared, springing up from the bench with an energy that I would not have guessed a man of his age could possess. I quavered. He was evidently quite angry.

Leaning toward me and over me he yelled, "I will not have you insulting my beauties, my delights. Who are you to question what I do and how I keep my house? I shall not have it! Never say a word again against what I do, or you shall regret it. Perhaps I shall choose not to move even a single mushroom to the new building, perhaps I shall store the night soil buckets in your room. What do you say to that?"

I hoped it was an empty threat, but I did not know Percy well enough to be sure. I found myself crying, "Oh do not do that. I could not bear it." Angry tears streamed down my face. "I did not mean to insult your mushrooms or you."

Feeling no warmth toward him and feeling not sorry at all but fearing the consequences if I did not, I groveled, flattered and insulted womankind to remove myself from such a bind. "Oh, Percy dear. I am so sorry, so sorry. I did not mean it. I am just overwrought and irrational as the time for my womanly suffering grows near. We women live such confined lives that change is difficult for us. You of course must know and do all that is best. I am silly and weak and shall have to adjust to your manner of living. Oh, Percy dear, I want to be a good wife to you, and will be ever so grateful if you should go ahead with your plan to move some mushrooms to a new building that undoubtedly will be superior for their needs. I just wish to be the best hostess for you and in entertaining I am not sure that society shall understand your passion for mushrooms as well as I hope to."

My little speech had its desired effect as Percy calmed down. His eyes still seemed narrowed (although not as much as before) and from the twist of his lips he appeared a bit suspicious of the sincerity of my words (which he must have rightfully guessed were not sincere at all) but mollified, for he leaned back and no longer loomed. After a few moments, while I prayed that the storm had passed, he replied. "Very well, Linny, I shall accept your apology. But I never want to hear another word against my mushrooms or how I chose to conduct my life or use my house again. Everything you have and can do is by my grace and my grace alone."

We walked back into the house again in silence and once inside I seized the first excuse to be out of his company that occurred to me. Feeling like a truculent school girl at risk of a final demerit which would see her punished, I asked my husband, all the while resenting the need to have to ask at all, "May I please speak with the cook?"

Looking uncomfortable he said, "That is fine," but kept glancing back at me while he walked away.

The cook was a stout mulatto woman, one Grace Mecham who I had been introduced to before we went to the garden. I began by asking her about what sort of meals she made within the current budget. I made sure to say loudly (in case, by chance, my husband was still listening), "I understand that mushrooms are added to many of the dishes. How fortunate we are to have such a healthful and delicious ingredient! Tell me, how do you use them all?"

Mrs. Mecham began listing various recipes and which mushrooms went in each, but then asked if I might rather sit down in the pantry than stand in the kitchen. I agreed and found that an adjoining door led into a room which stored many ingredients but also had a small table with a chair on either side. We both sat and she explained, "Sometimes while we are shaping bread or chopping ingredients, we sit."

"Very sensible," I replied, thinking that perhaps she was worried I would begrudge her an occasional break. I did not. I was coming to believe that certain concessions were almost certainly necessary to keep servants in a house such as this one. Perhaps for Mrs. Mecham it had been more difficult to find and retain a position in authority, rather than be categorized by how she looked to just being relegated to a scullery. But having eaten a dinner prepared by her and now knowing how little money was allotted to ingredients, I was quite certain that she was very talented.

Mrs. Mecham returned to her discussion of the mushroom dishes, and I noticed a certain commonality. "It seems that the mushrooms are typically boiled and never served raw."

She nodded, dropped her voice and said, "When Lord Lancaster first began growing and having us all eat the mushrooms, using his methods," by this I took her to be referring to using human waste, "a sickness came upon many of us. It was most unpleasant. Of course, I was always washing the mushrooms well and chop off the bottom of them, but it was not enough. Since I have begun boiling them, our health has much improved. We must do what we can to serve the master to the best of our abilities."

"Of course, of course," I replied.

When I returned to my room, Percy must have heard me, for he burst in and declared, "It seems I must apologize for earlier. I was harsh and you need not fear I would change my plans in such a way as to punish you for a few improvident words. I wish you to be happy and I can see that living as we do must be a difficult change for you. I should not have yelled and threatened retribution upon you. It was poorly done. This is your home now and you need not ask for permission to move about and see to your duties, nor even to complain a bit if you must. Please, please forgive me."

"Of course I will," I said. This partial apology soothed and made me hope for some felicity in my marriage. Yet even then I hardened my resolve to consider how I might eventually get all the mushrooms out of this house.

That afternoon Percy finally attended to his backlog of mail. I was in our joint sitting room with him as it was one of the few rooms that was mushroom-free, so it was our general room to attend to other things.

I heard him voice some distress over one item of mail, muttering to himself: "Terrible . . . . This cannot be true! . . . Oh God forgive me, I have been such a fool . . . . I should never want . . . . Of course I shall help, but there must be another way . . . . Never that."

Perhaps because he simply had no one else to confide in, he thrust the letter from Lady Lavinia into my hands. "Read this." So, I read.

Dear Papa,

I am certain I am a fool for putting what will follow onto paper, but I have no choice, for a ruined reputation is the least of my fears.

Perhaps it has fully escaped your notice, the breadth of what H. does to me. I know you were never the sort of father who spares the rod and spoils the child, but you were fair and just, and I seldom did anything that merited correction twice.

H. is all that is good and charming when you are about, but have you not noticed that since my marriage occurred that I am dull and practically dumb? Have you not seen how my being married to him has changed me? I was never bold, but now I am morose. I never had much spirit, but now I have none.

Perhaps you know in your heart that my husband is vicious, but you just ignore it. After all, if you do not see it, you need feel no guilt. I used to want to protect you, but no more.

You knew I did not particularly want to marry him, but insisted it was a good match. However, it has only made my life a misery.

I have been beaten, humiliated and used for his amusement and for what? It is not that I am willful or disobedient. I do my best to fulfill all my duties with nary a complaint. But there are limits in what a wife should be required to endure.

During my last lying in, when I was already large with child, H. came home late one evening, drunk, and entered my chambers with a compatriot. He shook me awake and said, "I have something, or rather someone, for you to do." He pushed the man at me and watched as that man . . . . Well, you shall have to imagine it if you dare, for I cannot bear to put it down on paper. H. took amusement in watching all that took place, and suggesting what that other man should do.

The whole experience was horrifying and mortifying. I had prided myself on my loyalty and faithfulness, that I was fulfilling my God-given role however little I might like it. By forcing such a thing upon me, he took that away from me. I knew if I offered any resistance, I would be beaten black and blue, and it would happen anyway.

I paused and shook my head. I had never dreamed that any husband might act in such a way. I murmured rhetorically, "How could a husband do such to his wife?" But before my husband might think I was seeking an answer from him, I turned back to the page and read on.

After the man left, I asked, "Why did you do this to me?" H. said, "Well, I lost a wager and it is not as if he can get you with child now." He then laughed and left me to my misery. Now that I am certain to be with child again, I live in fear of him doing this same thing again, once he comes to the country.

It was disconcerting to realize that I could be in a worse state than I currently was. However horrible it might be to live the Mushroom House, I did not think my husband could ever be as depraved as Lord Hatchington. Both horrified and fascinated, I turned back to the letter to see what new calamity I might learn of.

I counted up my bruises today and they numbered at least thirty-three. Perhaps two thirds of them are new, but it has been years since I could ever get the old ones to go away before gaining more. He did it in a very controlled manner, nowhere it might harm the child I carry, which he is determined must be a son. I fear what H. should do, should I be delivered of a daughter again. Although I have no control of whether I breed a boy or girl child, he seems to think that it is somehow within my ken. I have never forgotten how he shouted and raged when our daughter was freshly born, and me still so weak and not yet even cleaned up from my ordeal.

I mouthed "thirty-three" and considered how much of a woman's body so many bruises might cover if her abdomen was fully excepted. Oh, what a horror this was to me. I hoped I should never know what such treatment felt like. I should hope that if delivered of a child my husband might be solicitous of me, kind.

Do you know what I did to earn most of these bruises? Nothing that I can see, except that he wished to give them to me on the slimmest of excuses.

As for the more recent ones, there he told me what I had done. I did not summon help when D. beat him. I will own that this is true.

Why did I not cry out, or run to fetch the footmen? Can you guess? I had hope that perhaps H. would end up dead. While I should not want his death upon his cousin's hands, for I think D. a good man and like his wife E., who is everything that I am not, this is more about what it should do to D., what might befall him afterwards, if he had he killed H. Preventing such is the only thing that could have caused me to act, for the death of H. would be a blessing to me.

I had, of course, known that Hatchington had been given a beating although I was out shopping at the time, and even learned that it was at Darcy's hand, but knew none of the particulars. I had wondered what had occurred to set Darcy off and soon enough concluded it must have related to that scheming Eliza who perhaps had done something to make her new husband jealous. But in light of what I had learned, I began to doubt such a theory. A man who would treat his own wife so poorly, would have no compunction in acting out against another. I suspected that whatever had occurred had been ultimately the fault of Hatchington and also felt a shiver of relief that he had never opportuned me while I was a guest in his home.

I know that upon your marriage you came into quite a bit of money from C. Can I prevail on you to spend some portion of it to help me and my daughter escape to parts unknown? I would gladly resign my name and take another, be a widow living in a single room if only I might finally feel safe. If this child I am carrying should be a boy, and has H. to raise him, I expect he shall turn out just as vile. I do not want that for my baby.

If I am to fly away, it must be soon, in the next two months or so, before I am too ungainly. Better yet sooner, before H. quits town. Please, I beg of you Papa. Please do this and save my life. If you do not, I shall surely find a way to become parted from it, even if need be at my own hand or his.

Yours,

L

When I finished reading the letter, I pondered, thinking hard. The idea that Lady Lavinia's life was such a torture that she would rather flee it or die, well that was simply pitiful, but I thought her to be sincere. While if anyone would have asked me how I felt about having a portion of my dowry being spent on my husband's daughter after our marriage, I likely would have said, "perish the thought" or "how absurd," but in knowing what she had suffered, well if Percy thought it wise to do, I would not begrudge her some of what used to be mine, to help her escape from her prison. She might have a beautiful home, but I had no desire to switch places with her. Apparently, there were things that were much worse than living in the Mushroom House.

When I handed her letter back to my husband, he glared at me and asked, "Did you know?"

I was of a mind to deny it, but I settled for a half-truth. "I knew that something was wrong. There were hints here and there. But I am hardly friends with your daughter, and she certainly did not confide in me."

This Percy seemed to accept without too much trouble. He asked, part to me and part to himself, "Oh what am I to do?"

"Did you know?" I asked right back.

"I . . . she is right that I should have known something was wrong, but Lord forgive me, I do not think I wanted to know. I was fond of him, enjoyed his companionship for he is one of the few people who kept visiting me even after I took up mushroom farming, after my second wife died. I thought him charming and better than his father, more like his mother. I did forward the match, for I wanted Livvy to continue in the manner of life and society in which she had been raised, not diminish with me as my son wasted my funds. But it must be true. Do you not think so? For otherwise why would she write such a letter?"

"I do." I confirmed.

"I am ashamed to admit it, but I enlisted Hatchington to find me a wife, even agreed to pay him a sort of finder's fee when he found me a well-dowered woman who would accept my proposal and go ahead and marry me. You see, I have been lonely, needed someone with me in the Mushroom House, and desperately needed your dowry to fund my new mushroom farm. My estate that my son runs now (for after Livvy's mother died I could not bear to stay in the country where every room held memories of her, unlike town where she seldom ventured so I resolved to live here and let him gain his inheritance early), well he is not the best manager although he tries. I thought I could turn a reasonable profit with my mushroom farming, keep the estate solvent, hire him a competent steward. As soon as the estate would return to solid footing again, then the money from mushroom farming would be for us, could give any future children we have some inheritance."

"I understand," I said, and I did. It was never about me, him wanting to be with me because of who I was, but all about what I could do for him. I had a good sense of my own insignificance then, understood the price I had paid for my shattered dreams. I would have nothing I wanted, but to be a lady. That did not seem to be such an important thing anymore.

I retreated to my room. My husband scarcely seemed to notice. However, some half an hour later he came into my room with two letters. "Read these. One is from Lady Henrietta and the other is from Hatchington."

I began with the topmost, whose feminine script revealed its author. She wrote:

Dear Lord Lancaster,

Felicitations on your new marriage. I understand you are on a brief wedding trip as you ready your house for your bride. As soon as you should return to town, please come call upon me.

I thrilled at this show of affection to us, the acknowledgement of our place in society, but this was soon dampened by the next line.

This is not to be a social call so please leave the new Lady Lancaster at home. As you did not attend my ball, perhaps you have not yet heard what transpired there. H. has gone too far and my husband will do nothing. I am hoping you might either persuade my husband into taking some action or take some yourself.

Shall you succeed where I have not, I shall be in your debt.

Sincerely yours,

Lady Henrietta

Again, I cursed inwardly that I had not been present at her ball. Apparently, whatever had occurred had caused some talk, but even now I was yet in ignorance of it.

I shifted that letter below the other one and then began to read the one from Lord Hatchington:

Dear Percy,

I have returned to take up residence again in my London home, for my mother is being quite unreasonable. For this reason, I shall have to bear with not having a hostess for a time.

Do you suppose that despite such deficiency you might be willing to come dine with me, you and Lady Lancaster? I am most eager to learn if your new marriage agrees with you. I hope you have followed my advice and let her know you are prepared to give her a good switching should she disobey. Miss Bingley was most willful, but hopefully by now you have taught her well her place and tamed her to serve you well.

I bristled at the thought that this horrid man, who had beaten his wife to such an extent that she preferred death or running away to live in poverty over his continued company, had advised Percy to discipline me.

There is also that matter of business that we must settle; I need that done before I return to the country. Send word when you are back in town and are ready for company, and then we can arrange a day for you both to dine with me.

H.

When I finished reading my husband asked, "What do you think about these missives?"

"First, Percy dear, I thank you for sharing them, and your daughter's letter before, with me. It pleases me well that you wish me to be informed, and perhaps to give you counsel."

Percy gave a nod.

"You must certainly attend to Lady Henrietta forthwith. While it is rather late today for calls, I think you should attempt to call on her today and bring Lady Lavinia's letter, too. I cannot guess at what Hatchington may have done, but she should know how things fare with her son's wife."

"I . . . I have not yet decided what to do to help Livvy. Surely if Lady Henrietta knew she planned to abscond while carrying what might be the next heir to the earl, next after Hatchington, she would feel bound to tell her husband or even her son so they could prevent it."

I thought a moment. "I suppose you should not bring the letter then, but I do not see the harm in revealing that your daughter wrote to you about Hatchington's vicious beatings and sought your aid."

Percy nodded. "I thank you for such counsel. I shall do just that. Regarding what Hatchington wrote, I shall confess that was the impetus for me preparing that switch and telling your brother I would discipline you if it was warranted. For Hatchington when mentioning that he had found a candidate to be the next Lady Lancaster, after telling me of your beauty and bountiful dowry, said you were something of a shrew who made your brother do your biding. Truly I had no intent to use that switch but thought our marriage might go better if right away I established that I meant to have you obey. I did not want arguments about my mushroom farming, household budget and the like. I also feared you might reject my plan to give you mushrooms on our wedding day."

Percy looked away and rubbed at his forehead as if warding off an incipient headache. "Forgive me my candor, but having bedded two virgin wives before you, I found the thought of hurting you, of battling with my own desires while you feared and submitted as they did, of having little willpower to let your body mend and your disgust for the act wane before I demanded it of you again, to be most distasteful. Why, I think it took my son's mother several weeks before she no longer stiffened and shook when I climbed upon her, for I was an untried youth who did not know or consider that if I kissed and touched her first, I could give her a little pleasure or at least make it all easier for her to bear. It came much later that I learned such things.

"Now with Lavinia's mother, I took more care and time to ready her, yet she, too, could hardly bear my attentions for the first two weeks. Even after that she never welcomed our interactions. I feel the training of her youth, her being so high born, made her think it was unseemly to do anything but accept my intrusion as a necessary if unwelcome part of marriage.

"I thought if I found a rich tradesman's daughter, being less removed from her earthly nature by generations of breeding that it might be easier for her. But as our wedding approached and the time came to find out, I was less certain that would be the case. It had been so long since I had lain with a woman, I knew my appetites would hardly be slacked by a single performance, that I would have need of you again and again. But then it occurred to me that my friends the mushrooms offered a fine solution. I could let you dream while I taught your body what I needed. I hoped it would remember even if your mind did not, and resolved not to return you to a normal state until I could limit myself to only one interlude each night."

I did not agree with his reasoning, exclaiming "But Percy, you, yourself, took mushrooms to help your own performance. Could you not have simply refrained from such aid?"

"I could have," said he, "yet even if my member had not risen with every thought of desire, I still should have needed to have much time to examine every inch of your body, to nibble and touch all of it. And I did not want to feel an old man, not when a youthful performance was freely within reach, not when I could fill you with my essence repeatedly. It should not be surprising to you that one of my reasons for marrying is that I hope for further children. I have long regretted having just the one son and daughter who survived to adulthood and daily diligence is helpful for begetting children."

He considered further and added, "I had hoped that our week with the mushrooms would make things easier last night than they were for you, and I meant what I said, if you would rather have the mushroom tea each night before you lay with me, that can be arranged. I shall not give up visiting you at least once a night, for this joining gives me such pleasure and is my right."

It was then my turn to look away in embarrassment. I confessed, "Not recalling what you had done with me before, I was scared, but the joining itself, well it was pleasant. I think my body did indeed recall what my mind did not. I do not think I shall wish for the tea, shall wish to learn how to find further pleasure in this part of our marriage. But Percy, there are things that made it difficult but are perhaps within your power to remedy."

"Tell me," he said. "I shall do anything I can, which might lead to your happiness with my visiting your bed."

I thought for a moment. Percy was certainly very sensitive to anything involving his mushrooms, so this was not an opportunity to do anything about that, but still, he seemed willing to bend on other things. So, instead, I honestly addressed the areas which caused my deepest concerns. "There are three things that give me pause about fully surrendering myself to the marital act. First, would you be willing to throw that switch away and vow to never use something like that upon me? Fear is not conducive to enjoyment. Fear does not lead to trust."

Percy nodded. "I really had no notion of ever using it. If I promise that I shall not act in such a manner, will you promise to uphold your vow to obey me? I shall not ask anything of you which would be unreasonable, but I do expect your respect."

"This I can do."

"What are your other concerns?"

I took a steadying breath. "I must needs be blunt. I do not do this to be disrespectful or to hurt you." I looked away in embarrassment and prepared for the worst. My voice cracked as I asked, "Percy, dear, is there anything you might do about the cleanliness of your mouth which I can only conclude leads to your unpleasant breath? It pains me to say it, but I found it most distressing. I wish to be with you without such a distraction."

Said he, alleviating my greatest worry, that he would think I was trying to insult him, "I fear, Linny, dear, to reveal what I suppose I now must. These teeth that you see in the front of my mouth," he waited until I turned back toward him and gestured toward his upper teeth, "well they are not mine but dentures. I suffered a horrible fall off my horse in my twenties and my front teeth were broken clean off and then the barber surgeon had to wrench what remained of those broken teeth out." Percy shuddered with the memory, and I placed a hand on his shoulder for a moment in comfort.

"While I use tooth powder, I cannot ever seem to get those dentures as clean as the rest of my teeth; indeed, as the years have wended on it has gotten worse. I do not like it, but there is little to be done. It never occurred to me that it might bother anyone but me."

How he could have thought that, when I could smell his breath across half a room, I did not know. But perhaps in this respect societal politeness had not served him well.

I asked, "Why not get new dentures made?"

He shook his head. "Perhaps I should have before, but now I cannot countenance such an expense. Not with the funds needed for expansion, not with needing to aid Livvy."

"Maybe . . ." I was desperate for a solution. "Can you not go without your dentures when we are alone?"

He considered. "Without my dentures my speech is not so clear, it is harder to chew, and should you really wish to see my mouth that way?"

"If the odor was thereby gone, without a doubt. My lord, go on and remove them now."

Percy hesitated, looked away, and then reached in his mouth and plucked out his front seven teeth with a wad of spittle. I saw that the teeth were affixed to a sort of plate that was discolored and loathsome. I could smell the odor clearly. He kept his lips closed so I could not see how he looked without them.

"Oh, that you could just throw that away!" I declared. "It also looks mighty uncomfortable. Do you not remove it when you are abed?"

He covered his mouth with his hand as he replied. "Yeth, I do, but I kept them in lath night when I came to you. I did not want to thound thange to you."

"I can understand you well enough, Percy, and if you mouth can thus be clean and kept pleasant, this shall be a great improvement. Now let me see your mouth. Babies have no teeth, and no one has a problem with them."

He hesitated still, so I lightly grasped at his concealing hand. I had not the strength to pull it down if he did not wish it, but he yielded easily enough, but kept his lips closed for some additional seconds before drawing them back.

I purposefully kept my expression neutral, but I could not prevent my gasp. It was not the missing teeth but an ulceration upon his gum and further discoloration, along with a nasty jagged scar.

His eyes showed a flash of pain before his lips came together and he turned away. I grasped at his wrist which held the dentures as he brought them toward his mouth.

"Oh Percy, do not put them back in. That sore, it must hurt you so!"

"I am afraid ith my own ault. I did not wear them much at the inn. And your other conthern?"

"Cleanliness, health and comfort. You see, now that I have seen you delve in the night soil manure with your own hands, I cannot but find the idea of you touching me with a dirty hand to be loathsome."

He held up his hand, "But ith clean!"

"It may look clean, but your body has an odor about it that is not just about living in this house. I have heard that sometimes as people grow older, their sense of smell may diminish, just as their sight and hearing do. Strong and unpleasant odors are very difficult for me to ignore. While the house smells as it does, our chambers ought to be a place free of all of that. But beyond my own comfort, I cannot but fear that if you touch me with such a hand, I may become sick for surely ill humors are associated with those sorts of odors, and just being exposed to such a thing you could become ill as well."

I held up his free hand by the wrist, over his sleeve, and looked at it closely. "Can you see how there is still dirt or whatever else beneath your nails?"

Percy bent forward, squinted and shook his head.

I explained, "Well, it is there, and I can even see that your skin is a little stained. You have evidently washed your hands, but that is not enough."

I did not want to do it, but I leaned toward him and sniffed his chest, shoulder, upper arm and then hand. I could not help but shudder and wrinkle my nose the closer I got to his hand. "Can you not see that I shall hardly enjoy my duties if I am worried about where you might touch me with your hands which hours before have been delving into the rotting night soil? You need a thorough scrubbing with a thick brush over the course of perhaps several days, and when tending to your mushrooms you need to cover your hands with gloves and use implements instead of them to mix your fertilizer and distribute it about."

Percy looked thoughtful but gave no reply.

A/N: As I said before, we are not done with Caroline yet. So, are you all still feeling sorry for her? Will she succeed in her attempts to modify Lord Lancaster's behavior?

Up next, will Lord Landcaster "Percy" change his ways? If so, how much?

Will they attend dinner with Hatchington? What will Percy be willing to do to keep his daughter safe?