18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Dreaded News

T he conversation on the ride to Margaret’s had Helen and Fred talking, for the most part. Margaret made a feeble attempt at participating. She silently imbued with trepidation. Her parents would never request her immediate return home unless critical. She had no idea what to expect. It seemed like the longest ride of her life.

They pulled up to the portico. “I’m going in, no argument.” Declared Helen. Whatever the trouble, Helen wanted to be with her.

“Margaret, allow me to come in with you. Not knowing what your parents will share, I can suggest, if it is something I may be able to assist them with, I will stay. If it is a private matter and your parents had rather neither Helen nor I be privy, I will certainly understand.” Fred did not wait for an answer, his coachman opened the door, knocked the steps, and Fredrick stepped out and assisted first Margaret, then Helen out.

“I appreciate your offer, both of you. Truly. I would hate for you to feel obligated…I am praying this is not completely catastrophic.” She gave them a pitiful smile. Again, Fred would have none of it. He took her arm. “You are sure, Fredrick?” She murmured.

“Helen, lead the way.” He looked down at Margaret. He patted her hand. Even at this moment, she was beautiful.

When they arrived at the front entrance, the butler, his sobriquet ‘Mr. Boardback,’ appeared normal, his face devoid of emotion. “Mr. Newton, where are Lord and Lady Maxwell?” Margaret asked, concern edging her words.

“They are in the back drawing room.” As the footman, Calvin, took their wraps, he looked as if he had been crying.

“Calvin, are you alright?” Margaret touched his arm with a look of concern.

“Please, Lady Margaret, go see your parents.” Calvin's voice cracked. That did not bode well. Fred braced for ominous news. He felt it. He looked at Margaret; he could see the fear in those beautiful emerald eyes.

As they entered the room, Lord Maxwell was seated on the couch with his arms around Lady Maxwell as she leaned against Edward, sobbing. Lord Maxwell had tears silently falling. Lady Maxwell looked up. “Margaret, it’s David. He’s…he’s…oh, God. Oh, God.” She sobbed.

“Margaret, it is David. Eton sent a message that he is near death.” Lord Maxwell sounded numb; his words tumbled out.

Margaret dropped to her knees and hugged her mother. “Who said that? How, when? It cannot be true.”

“I need to go get him. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to do it.” Lord Maxwell continued to tear while hugging his wife and petting Margaret, her head buried in her mother’s lap.

“Lord Maxwell. I have a large coach. Let me take you to Eton.” Fred offered. He looked at Helen. “Helen, would you tell the butler to bring three glasses, brandy, and whiskey, please?” Helen left the room. Fred leaned against the wall by the door. He would not interject himself in their acute distress. He only wanted to do what he could to assist in this dreaded process. He knew how to do that. He had lost his father and mother at seventeen. Then went through the process with Lord Martin when his mother died. The butler stepped to the threshold of the drawing room.

“Did you request liquor, sir?” Looking at Fred.

“You addressed me as sir ? You will address me as Lord Windham, Marquess of Shropshire.” Fred drew himself to his full height, throwing the weight of his title into his words.

“Please, pardon my error, my lord.”

“I said to address me as Lord Windham.” The butler impertinent – no manners.

“Yes, of course, Lord Windham. I will have the footman bring the liquor you requested right away.”

“Wait. I have yet to excuse you. I want a handful of handkerchiefs, and I’m sure you know who their family doctor is. Have one of the footmen fetch him. Tell the footman to explain the occurrence and tell him Lady Maxwell needs assistance. Now, you may be excused.”

Prick!

“Lord Fredrick, if you are sincere about traveling to Eton, I think it would be safer if I traveled with you.” Lord Maxwell attempted a slight smile of gratitude with a nod to Fred. Fred completely understood.

“Papa, I will go with you.” Margaret lifted her head off her mother’s lap to look up at him.

“No, child. You stay here and take care of your mother.”

Fred’s heart went out to them. Unsure what it must feel like to know that your child could be on the brink of death without much explanation, the pain had to be excruciating.

Still no liquor. Still no kerchiefs. Still no doctor. He needed to step out. “Excuse me a moment.” He stormed down the hall toward Maxwell’s idiot butler. Fred jerked the man by his lapel, pulling the man close until they were nearly nose to nose.

“I don’t like you,” he spat between clenched teeth, “My groundskeeper could do a better job. Now, I want the liquor and the kerchiefs in two minutes. Do you recognize the number two?” He released his grip on the man to put up one finger. “One.” He put up another finger. “Two.” If those items are not in that drawing room in two minutes, I will take you to the stables, beat the shite out of you, then inform Lord Maxwell that you resigned. You will get no recommendation.” The butler looked up at Fredrick, frightened and confused.

“Lord Windham, I had to first wait for the footman to fetch the doctor.”

“You are worthless. Two minutes.” He pushed him as he released his grip on the butler’s lapel and stormed back to the drawing room. Lady Maxwell still sobbed into her husband’s chest.

“Lady Maxwell, is there anyone you would like for me to go collect for you?” Fred knew if her husband left for Eton, she would need the comfort of a close friend.

“Would you be able to bring Lady McDonnell and Amina here?” Lord Maxwell spoke for his overwrought wife.

“Of course.” The idiot butler had about fifteen seconds before Fred had the pleasure to haul his arse out to the stables. Fred turned around; the butler entered the room, making a wide berth around Fred. “Pour the two ladies a brandy and a whiskey for Lord Maxwell.” And Fred watched to ensure he performed the task. “And the kerchiefs?”

“Here, Lord Windham.” He handed the kerchiefs to Fred.

“They are not for me, you idiot.” Fred wondered where they found this man and how long they had been putting up with him. Fred canted his head toward Lord and Lady Maxwell.

“Edward, I will return with Lady McDonnell and Amina.” Fred walked out of the room, opened the front door, and out to his coach.

Fred arrived at the McDonnell townhouse, knowing it was late. He was sure he had gotten their butler, Mr. Sanders, up out of bed. “Mr. Sanders. I apologize for the late-night call. I have what may be tragic news to share regarding Lord and Lady Maxwell’s son, Lord David. Lady Maxwell is in need of Lady McDonnell and Amina’s company.”

“I will have Lady McDonnell come down immediately.” Without waiting, Mr. Sanders started up the staircase . Now, that is a butler.

Lady McDonnell quickly came out of the bedchamber and spoke over the railing. “What is this about Lord David? It cannot be true.”

“Yes, my lady. They received a missive from the Dean at Eton that David was near death. I have no details but I am taking Lord Maxwell to the school to retrieve Lord David and receive the details on how this could have happened. Lady Maxwell is going to need your company. Lord Edward asked me to come see if you could return with me. If it is possible, it would be advisable to have at least two days of clothes.”

Lady McDonnell’s face was visibly distraught. “I remember when that gorgeous boy was born. This is terrible for Lord and Lady Maxwell. Of course, we will come.” She glanced at Amina. “We best each pack a bag and get to Lady Virginia. I know she is going to be in need of us.” She hurried back into her chamber to prepare for a few days' stay.

Fred stood in the foyer waiting on the ladies and wondered how things could change a person’s life so dramatically in only a moment. At the ball, Margaret had men swarming around her. He could not take his eyes off of her. She was beautiful. Truly the belle of the ball. She was designed specifically for me. Curvaceous. Raven hair. Large emerald eyes. Luscious kissable lips. Suddenly, complete devastation. Fred ached to hold her, comfort her, and assist her family through this painful situation.

“Lord Windham, we are ready. Allow me to speak with Mr. Sanders and we can away.”

Lady McDonnell went to the butler’s room and briefly spoke with him. Mr. Sanders knew the Maxwell family very well. Lady Maxwell and Lady McDonnell had been the best of friends since they were in leading strings. Their husbands accused their wives of planning to have their babies at the same time as Muriel and Margaret were born in the same year.

Fred swept the ladies into the coach. “Lady McDonnell, if you can, please see if you and Amina can get Lady Maxwell to go to her bedchamber. I have Dr. Haynie coming.”

“I will certainly do that.” In no time they arrived at the Maxwell’s townhouse. Fred assisted the ladies down from the carriage. The ladies marched straight into the house without the assistance of the idiot butler. Likely asleep somewhere. The group was in the small drawing room. It would be best to have Lady Virginia in her bedchamber. Fred walked to Helen and leaned in. “Has the family doctor come and gone?”

“No, he has yet to arrive. What do you think has happened?” Helen looked as concerned – overwrought at her friend’s pain.

“Who knows? Their butler is pitiful. I will go speak to the dullard.” Once again, Fred stormed down the hall to find that sorry excuse for a butler. While he searched for the dullard, he could hear Lady McDonnell coaxing Lady Maxwell up the stairs. Good. She needed to be there. He found the dullard sitting in the study. “You! Are you paid to sit in the study and read? When the family is in crisis? Where the hell is the footman that you supposedly sent to fetch the family physician? Or did you remember to do that?”

“I did, indeed, send Calvin.” The butler stood but had an air of annoyance that Fred would dare to bother him.

“Lord Windham.” Stupid.

“Yes, Lord Windham.”

“And when did you send Calvin? What time, do not lie to me because I will ask Dr. Haynie. I know him well.”

“Oh, well…I’m not sure exactly when I sent him.” His ears turned cherry red.

That was a tell. Fred said nothing else to the idiot. He marched to the front door, swung it open, and called to his coachman. “Max!

“Yes, my lord?”

“Go to the St. James townhouse and bring Mr. Winston back with you. Tell him to pack a bag and be prepared to stay at the Maxwell’s townhouse for approximately one week.”

“Yes, my lord. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, since you mention it. Have Joshua pack my bag for one or two days. As soon as you return with Mr. Winston, I am tossing that idiot butler out.”

Max had a big grin. “Another adventure, my lord.”

“Hurry back. The sooner you return, the sooner I will have the pleasure.”

Max rode down the lane as another coach rolled in under the portico. Calvin jumped down from the coachman’s seat and assisted Dr. Haynie out of the cabin. “Dr. Haynie. I am sorry to get you up so – is it too late or too early? I have yet to check the time. Something catastrophic must have happened to Lord David at Eton. It appeared that Lady Maxwell is in need of your assistance. This has been overwhelming news for the family. Understandably, Lady Maxwell has taken the news hard.”

“I am used to dire circumstances, except for birthing babies, most of my calls are from those in distress.” Dr. Haynie was a big man. Tall, a large girth, with big, strong arms. Thinning reddish hair. Face with pox marks. Glasses always down on the end of his nose. A quick laugh, always good and hardy. Fred reached out and took the doctor’s medical bag.

“I’m sure there is nothing physically wrong with Lady Maxwell at this point. She has been sobbing for hours. I thought between you and Lady McDonnell, you might be able to persuade her to, at least lay down. She needs rest. Poor woman. My heart goes out to both Lord and Lady Maxwell.” It pained Fred to see such overwhelming sadness. To receive a letter only stating your son is near death from some unknown accident would overset anyone, even those with the strongest mettle.

“I should have known Marie would be here. You know I delivered that boy, David. And Margaret. David is barely fifteen if that.”

“I have offered to take Lord Edward to retrieve Lord David. He has agreed. I don’t think he would be able to make the trip alone. I’m happy to do it. Besides, I am hoping that if I can get him talking, I can occupy his mind during the ride there. I’m not so sure about the return ride.”

“Take a bottle of whiskey with you. The best thing to happen would be for Edward to pass out. The worst thing would be for Edward to sob until he has passed out.” Dr. Haynie put his giant hand on Fred’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Fredrick. You were right there with Martin when he needed you and now you have offered yourself to the Maxwell’s.”

“People helped me through a bad time when Mother and Father died. I know what they are going through. Although, I would think the possibility of losing a child must be much more painful.”

“That is certainly what I have witnessed.”

“Doctor, could you tell me what time Calvin arrived to fetch you?” Fred wanted unbiased confirmation.

“Maybe twenty minutes ago. Mother and I were huddled up. I was reading her a book when we both fell asleep, so I already had clothes on.” He gave Fred a weak smile. “Virginia – Lady Maxwell upstairs?” Dr. Haynie asked as he started toward the staircase.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for coming.” Now, Fred needed to find Calvin.

Fred walked down the hall toward the small drawing room when he thought he heard the back kitchen door open. “Calvin, I need to speak with you.”

“Yes, my lord?” Calvin stood erect with his hands behind his back.

“When did Mr. Newton tell you to fetch Dr. Haynie?”

“I’m not sure, my lord. T’was not that long ago. Half an hour?”

“And where were you before that?” Fred had failed to see him for some time.

“There was an issue with the coach. The cabin door on the left-hand side would not close properly. I went out to assist the coachman, Abel. It was some time after, Mr. Newton came out to tell me to fetch the doctor. Abel and I hitched the horses and went after him. I suppose it could have been…yes, I believe it was approximately half an hour ago.” Fred had a frustrated look on his face. “Is something amiss, my lord? Have I done something wrong? I would do nothing to upset the Maxwell family. I care for all of them, if I may be so bold.”

He patted Calvin on the back. “I see you care for the family. I would expect nothing less of you.”

“I’m most grateful you have come to help Lord Maxwell. He should not have to be doing anything.”

“I’m happy to do it.”

“Would that be all, my lord?”

“No. Who prepares the bedchambers? Three guest chambers need to be prepared.”

“The upstairs maid. I can use the bellpull to get the housekeeper, Mrs. Springer, to direct the upstairs maid.” Calvin walked to the panel from the kitchen. “She is a sound sleeper. Very likely, she has no idea what has occurred. The Maxwells went to the opera and received the letter when they returned. It was late.”

“For what reason would the housekeeper be directing the upstairs maid? The butler is responsible for the upstair maids.”

“I can only suppose because the family is small with rarely any overnight guests, the two maids split the work.”

“Alright. Fine.” He stood looking at the back door. “One more thing. I have my butler, Mr. Winston coming. He should be here any time. Then I am firing the Maxwell’s idiot butler. He is the sorriest excuse for a butler I have ever seen.”

“May I speak frankly, my lord?” Calvin and Fred were close to the same height - tall. Fred took pride in his physique, yet as he looked at Calvin; he was a mass of muscles. If he could run as fast as he looked to be strong, the Maxwells had a good protector.

“Yes, please do.” Curious to hear his opinion.

“The man is one of the laziest humans on the planet. I have often wondered why they have kept him. He has not been with the family long.”

“He shan’t be here a day longer.” Calvin chuckled at Lord Windham’s response. “And when Mrs.…what? When she awakes, please have her see me.”

“Yes, my lord.” Calvin had a large smile on his face.

“Calvin, I will be continuing to bark orders. You are forewarned. I think it would be good for you to go downstairs and pack Mr. Newton’s belongings. I would be most displeased to find out he might have packed things belonging to the Maxwell’s.”

“My pleasure. Then I will make sure Mrs. Springer is awake. She is to speak with you and get the maid to prepare the guests' chambers.”

Calvin went downstairs and Fred stood looking at the stable through the back window when his coach stopped. Fred walked out to meet Mr. Winston and Max. “Thank you for coming. Did you bring luggage?” He asked Mr. Winston.

“Yes, my lord. For approximately a week?”

“Yes, wait. Let me speak with Max.” Fred looked up at Max, who looked chilled to the bone. The days were getting warmer, but some of the nights had been cooler than normal. “Max, I don’t think we will be leaving tonight. You can take the coach home, stay there, and return early on the morrow.”

“My lord, do you have an idea about what time you might want to leave?”

Max did look cold. “’Tis the weekend. Traffic won’t be bad. Break your fast at home, then come. I don’t think anyone will be getting up too early.

“Yes, my lord.” Fredrick walked to the back door when he remembered something of the utmost importance.

“Max, I need you to – Max? Max!” Max jolted, looked around, and saw his lordship. “Sorry, my lord. ‘Tis been a bit busy. What else might I do for you before I go?”

“When you return here on the morrow, bring Ben with you. We may need him on the return trip. And I want you to bring the Concord. I believe we will need it to bring Lord David home.”

Max’s face lit up. He slapped his hands. “I’ll be twattled. I’ve been lusting over that thing, waiting for you to give me the behest to rig it up once more. I will have it ready and shining by sun up.”

“Max – we will need four horses.”

“Yes, my lord. I remember.” Max humored Fred with his exuberance over a coach. Yet it had been a custom-built coach. The only time he had used the coach had been when the four horsemen went on a road trip.

The coach was designed by Stephen Abbot and Lewis Downing in America. A state called New Hampshire. Fredrick read about the coach in a magazine. Contacted the gentlemen in America, had the coach built to his specifications, and shipped it to England. It had been extremely expensive, but the gentlemen guaranteed that the coach had the suspension to reduce stress, increase passengers’ comfort, and have a long service life. He had to have it. He looked ahead, thinking at some point he would marry and would have three or four children, with any luck. But he was not in a hurry. However, he had become more unsure of that – the more time he spent around Lady Margaret.

Farewell, Mr. Boardback

Fred wished he had returned home with Max, but he had too much left to do. “Mr. Winston, come with me.” Fred led Mr. Winston to the small breakfast room. “Have a seat. Stay here for the time being. It may be up to an hour. I think from this vantage point you will be able to enjoy the show.” Fred looked around for Calvin. Hopefully, he had been able to wake the housekeeper and she either had to get dressed or had fallen back to sleep.

“I’m tired but this house is in total disarray. Damn, Mr. Winston. You will be appalled.” He walked over to the cubby in the kitchen where he found the bellpull panel and looked for the housekeeper’s bell. He became increasingly aggravated if that could have been possible. He pulled the bell repeatedly. Finally, an older woman lumbered up the stairs, slightly overweight, with greasy brown hair streaked with gray, and beady eyes.

“Who has been leaning on the bellpull?” She snapped groggily; her tone harsh. She looked around with scathing eyes until they finally fell on Fred. He had his shoulder leaning against the wall with his arms folded in front of him and legs crossed at the ankle. “I don’t remember seeing you before. You the one bothering me with that bellpull?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. From the time Calvin woke you, there has been more than sufficient time to make your presence known.”

“You have yet to answer my question. Who are you to be barking orders in the middle of the night?” Not asking; more like words of demurral.

“I am Lord Fredrick Windham, Marquess of Shropshire. Now, I want you to collect the butler and have him come here. You accompany him.”

“Ye – ye – yes, my lord.” What a change in demeanor. Fred continued to lean against the wall. Within two minutes both had returned as requested.

“Yes, Lord Windham?” the idiot asked.

“Mr.….your name again?” Fred asked, matter of fact.

“Newton, Lord Windham. Newton.”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Useless, how long have you worked for Lord and Lady Maxwell?”

“Going on three years, Lord Windham.” He looked confused.

“I see. And what did you do before coming here?”

“I did a lot of different things.”

“Lord Windham…?” Fred prompted.

“Yes, Lord Windham.” The idiot eeked out.

“Such as…?” Getting information from him was much like getting him to work.

“I worked as a jarvey. I worked at a circulating library….”

“Enough.” Fred put one hand out to halt any further drivel. “Were you good at those jobs?”

“I suppose, Lord Windham.”

“Good.” Fredrick pushed away from the wall and stood to his full height, taking sixty pounds out of his pocket, which he considered more than the idiot’s annual salary, but worth the extra pounds to be rid of him. “This is sixty pounds.” The idiot seemed in a daze as he slowly extended his hand to accept the money. “A moment please.” He put a finger up to keep the idiot in his present position. “Calvin!” Fred called out. Calvin came running into the kitchen, he glanced at the audience as he responded with a wide grin.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Did you get those things I requested?”

“Right here, my lord.” Calvin went into the small breakfast room and retrieved the luggage.

“Hand that to Mr.….something.” Calvin held out the luggage. The idiot looked to Fred. “Take it. It’s yours. Now, you have been given sixty pounds for your annual salary. You have your belongings in the luggage. This has been done in front of witnesses. The only thing to do now is to bid you farewell.” Fredrick glanced over at Calvin. “Would you be so kind as to open the kitchen door for Mr.…whatsit.” Fredrick flipped his hand around in a circle.

The idiot looked at Fred and stopped at the threshold. “But it is the middle of the ni – “

“Farewell.” Fred cut him off.

“You can’t – “

“Farewell.” Fred began to enjoy this. “Calvin, assist him out.”

Calvin grabbed the idiot roughly by the upper arm and escorted him out past the stables. “Good-bye and good riddance.” Calvin's belly laughed, loudly, as the idiot stood in the back, still bewildered over what had occurred.

Calvin returned with quite a light step. “My lord, Thank you for allowing me the pleasure.” He started toward the drawing room.

“Calvin, we are not quite done.” Fred had another bone to pick. Fred turned his attention to the housekeeper. With his eyes still on her. “Calvin, there is a gentleman in the small breakfast room.” Calvin turned to see the man beginning to stand. “Would you please escort him in here?” He turned back to the housekeeper. “Now, to you, Mrs. Simpkin.”

“Mrs. Springer, my lord.” She said with a rather caustic smile.

“Yes, well. I wonder if you noticed how quickly I relieved this house of the less-than-subpar butler.” He raised his brows waiting for an answer.

“Yes, my lord.”

“I have to wonder about the capability of a housekeeper able to sleep so soundly she is unaware of a major trauma unfolding in the household, people coming in and out of the house, and footfalls most assuredly audible downstairs.”

“I am a sound sleeper, my lord.” She looked down at her shoes. Fred recognized the tell .

“I fear you are not being completely honest with me. Nevertheless, let me ask you. Do you think you are a good housekeeper?”

She looked flustered. “I do, my lord.”

“Then what reason have you for dust on the furniture; rugs in the two drawing rooms, the library, and study that look like they have never been beaten; and I see no posting of responsibilities anywhere.”

“I – I suppose the downstairs maids are not doing their job. I can speak to them immediately, my lord.” Not a hint of remorse.

“And who is responsible for ensuring the lower maids are doing their job?”

“I – I suppose I have been a bit lax. They have been here long enough, I assumed they were doing their job.”

“You have one week, one week , to prove you are capable of the position you hold or you will follow the idiot I relieved a moment ago. Do I make myself clear?”

“I do have a question. Who gave you the authority to make these kinds of decisions regarding the household staff, my lord?” She added a touch of a snicker.

Fred looked at Mr. Winston. “Mr. Winston, how long do you think it might take you to find a decent housekeeper, good would be even better, but decent is better than what the household has now.”

The housekeeper stepped forward waving her fat, jiggling arm. “You told me one week. If I can turn things around to your approval, I can stay?” Finally, she genuinely looked concerned.

“Prove to me you can do it, first. Now, there are three – no, make it four guest chambers requiring immediate attention. I suspect all parties concerned are readying themselves for a late-night toilette and bed. I want those bedchambers prepared within one hour. When completed, show Mr. Winston the butler’s quarters. Tomorrow, Cook needs to know there are extra mouths to feed in the morning, early. Then, acquaint Mr. Winston with the staff and locations for the things he needs to do his job. And I will tell you, Mr. Winston is the epitome of an efficient, professional, and observant butler.” He turned to speak with Mr. Winston, then looked back at the housekeeper. “Now, go into the small drawing room after you instruct the maids, and see to the needs of all the parties.”

“Mr. Winston, have a footman take an ad to the two newspapers and see how fast we can get a good butler in this house.”

“First thing in the morning, my lord. Anything else?”

“I think not. Thank you for doing this. This house is in chaos. Lady Margaret and Lady Maxwell are staying here while Lord Maxwell and I go to collect their son. I had Dr. Haynie come and see about Lady Maxwell. She is overcome with the news, which I understand. Sleep is the best medicine for her now.”

“I understand, my lord. I will do my best. For newspapers, I’m thinking, of Walter’s, Times; Perry’s, Morning Chronicle; and The Morning Post. Papers open early. If I can get a footman to leave early enough, we might make the morning papers.”

“Whatever you think works best. Have the invoices sent to me. I’m going to see how all are faring in the drawing room. If I call for you, have Calvin do the bidding.”

“Yes, my lord.”