Nineteen Part Three

Alfred had taken special care with his appearance this evening. His dark hair was slicked back neatly, his attire was the latest in fashion. After all, he was the Baron of Nimford, someday to be Marquess of Moonhurst.

His intentions this evening were to be seen at the grandest ball of the season. The very grandest, that is, if the Lady Harrison had anything to say about it. She definitely tried the hardest out of all the dames of the ton, to make her ball, the very last of the season, legendary.

There were always rich heiresses at this ball, and that is where Alfred's mood had taken him this day. He could now take his time in aspiring to the higher title, he could also, however, marry into money now. Or soon, mayhap, if he got going about it.

Marcus had come back from lunch with with his Uncle Damien that day, and mentioned the decree in Damien's letter to his cousin Drake, outlining the terms of his cousin's betrothal. If Drake did not show up to wed the Duke's daughter, who was also missing presently, Alfred would be named as his next in line. And that meant he would be named heir apparent without risking his neck.

Alfred was still a young man, he had plenty of time and he had actually had a pleasant conversation with his father before his horse had lost it's shoe.

Marcus had expressed an interest in what Alfred did of an eve, he had then asked if Alfred would like to meet him to fence of an afternoon, when he returned. Alfred had been at first surprised, but then he started remembering all the times Marcus had actually tried to spend time with him. His mother came immediately to mind. She had always intervened, always spoken negatively about Marcus, and always treated him badly. Alfred realized he had readily followed suit.

Unfairly mayhap, none the less, he found himself willing to take the time to find out.

Alfred joined his mother and his second cousin Jude, who had come to hunt and visit while Marcus was away, as they waited for the evening meal to be announced. Alfred entered the sitting room, where a fire snapped and roared, the room was overly warm, Alfred pulled at his cravat trying to loosen it and hopefully cool his neck. "Why, by the Gods, is it so damn hot in here?" Alfred fumed.

"Alfred, dear, it is chilly outside, do come sit down and greet your cousin." Gwendolyn oozed motherly love and direction. He also noted she was dressed to show off her nonexistent cleavage. No wonder she had a fire blazing.

"By God I can not, it is roasting in here, I will await you in the entry where man can breathe." Alfred struck out for the entry, when he turned and bumped into Sadie waiting to announce supper.

"Oouf," Alfred swatted out at Sadie, as she had scared and surprised him. She deftly raised an arm blocking his swat.

"Careful, Sir Alfred." Sadie said softly. "Supper is served." Sadie said with more volume to all. She turned and marched back to the kitchen to serve the meal. One did not work for her Lady Gwendolyn very long, before learning to avoid a swat to the best of your abilities.

Dinner was served, Alfred explained he would be attending Lady Harrison's ball to seek out prospective brides.

His mother advised him to just shop, as he still had plenty of time left to buy. She reminded Alfred of the many more heiresses he could choose from if he had a more prestigious title.

"I have heard that I may have a legitimate chance at the title, and I believe for now, I will bide my time." Alfred drew the napkin from his lap and placed it on his plate. He would wait and eat at the ball, they always had plenty to eat at these functions, trying to outdo the last hostess' menu.

He was uncomfortable here. He did not care for Jude very much. The man always looked at him strangely. It made him feel as a bug under a microscope, or as if Jude knew something he did not. "I wish you both have a good evening, I believe I shall be on my way." Alfred excused himself and left the dining room to the older couple. He strode to the front door and requested his horse be brought around as he shrugged into his waistcoat.

He should arrive at the club in plenty of time to meet his cronies, then make a fashionable entrance to the ball in time to see the eligible ladies announced.

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After coffee, ham and scones in the galley with the men, Katherine and Elizabeth went to prepare for Elizabeth's visit to the Lady Eleanor. Katherine put away the breeches she wore under her dress, she then went to Betsy's cabin and tapped against the door. Betsy had once again donned her sable dress, trimmed in pink, and was attempting to thread pink ribbons into her hair.

"I can help with that, Elizabeth." Katherine offered.

"That would be wonderful, Mama Katherine, 'tis much easier to do someone else's than it is to do my own, I have found." Betsy sat in one of the leather chairs as Katherine wove the ribbons into Betsy's loose braid that ended at Betsy's bosom, letting the rest cascade down to her waist, hints of the pink ribbon trailing down amid her tresses.

"You look lovely, my dear." Katherine assured her.

Katherine listened as Elizabeth told her anecdotes of her time with Lady Eleanor and her Papa.

Lady Eleanor sounded like a lovely person, to take Elizabeth in as she had, to make sure she would be placed in a grand home and be cared for by good people of her own family, spoke highly of the kind of person she was. Katherine was grateful that Elizabeth had been taken care of so well. They had something in common, Katherine and the Lady, caring for the young until a good home could be found for them.

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"You know, I never told you, but your Papa was a gambler also." Lady Eleanor leaned in towards Violet and Betsy as she imparted this information.

Violet raised a brow, as Betsy looked confused. She had just finished explaining Violet's profession and ruse, and his true goals to her Lady.

"You mean when you and he played noddy? I knew about that, after all, you were the one who taught me." Betsy smiled at Lady Eleanor in understanding.

Violet caught her meaning better than Betsy, "In what way did he gamble, My Lady?" Violet realized, he himself had gambled on not getting caught, as he had gone about his business all these past years.

"He gambled on the fact that his good deeds would outweigh the bad, and that the good Lord would forgive him on Judgement Day." Lady Eleanor eyed this incredibly handsome pirate Betsy had attached herself to.

"But Papa never did anything bad, unless you are speaking of your games of noddy, which seemed more for fun than a love of gambling." Betsy would never believe her Papa had a problem with gambling, it had just been a game played between friends, adding a bit of spice to an old man's life.

"Your grandfather was a smuggler, my dear." The Lady sat back in her chair and sipped her tea.

Betsy turned furtive eyes to Violet, then turned back to her Lady. "You are not serious, Lady Eleanor, Papa would never..."

"Oh, but he did, my dear, he did the very same thing your new husband has done, yet he did not steal to acquire the goods. He was merely a go between." The Lady was smug, as if what her Papa had done was right somehow.

"How could he have done that, I was with him always, I never saw evidence of such deeds." Betsy thought back and could not find anything in her memories to support this fact.

"'Twas as you slept, my dear. The ships would come in during the day or the early evening, as you just did, and your Papa would sneak out at night and take delivery of the goods to be had. He would then sell them for a profit, without paying the taxes, the funds would then be distributed to the widows and orphans as he saw a need."

Betsy's jaw hung open. Her Papa, her papa had involved himself in illegal activity! She looked at Violet whose concern for her was evident, yet there there was still an amused sparkle in his eye.

"What is funny about this, this is nothing to be amused about, Violet." Betsy chided her husband.

"Oh, Elizabeth," The Lady went on, "Do you not see, you have found a husband after your own Papa's heart. In your heart you recognized a kindred spirit of the man who raised you, your own is just a bit more fool hardy about it, risking hanging such as he has." The Lady leaned forward once again, "You are finished with taking that risk are you not? Now that you have my girl to take care of, you said you have ceased this activity?" Lady Eleanor raised a brow of her own Violet's direction.

"Yes, my Lady, we are on our way to the King for a pardon, hopefully. I want to continue to help the less fortunate, I just do not want my men and I to risk our necks as we go about it any longer." He assured her, he looked at his wife, as she processed what her Papa had done.

Betsy suddenly smiled and a tear slid down her cheek, "Oh Papa." She whispered.

Now that she thought about it, she could see her Papa doing that very thing. She remembered the food he would be able to buy, the children's shoes and coats in the fall. She always thought the funds came from the church, yet it had been a church filled with modest to poor parishioners, except for the Lady Eleanor, that was.

Lady Eleanor grinned, "And I helped him." She sat back smugly, as Betsy's eyes flew to the elderly woman's face. "Why do you think we were always sending you off to the kitchens? We had business to discuss that you did not need to know about." The Lady smiled kindly at Betsy, "He needed somehow to launder the monies, and I was also able to add my own to the kitty without him being any the wiser."

"Bernie." Violet stated.

Lady Eleanor chuckled, as Betsy looked at her husband as if he had grown two heads.

"What!" Betsy demanded, "What did you say!?" She was floored. The only people who had called Bernard Edward Southerland, by Bernie, was Lady Eleanor and the tavern owner down at the docks. She remembered wondering why, when all else had called him either Bernard or Pastor.

"When Brutus and I began our 'career', Chauncey used to sell goods to an older, grey haired man, with very kind brown eyes, who was named Bernie. We had just came of age and joined his crew. That was back when we were learning how to pirate. When I took over, we came back once, yet Bernie was no more."

"You met my Papa?" Betsy whispered.

"It could only be one and the same." Lady Eleanor nodded, "He did indeed smuggle as Bernie." She grinned widely at this turn of events, "I have heard the term 'tis a small world, yet if this does not beat all."

Betsy just sat there, her head swiveling back and forth between Violet and her Lady, astonishment residing upon her face.

"I always thought it amusing that a smuggler would wish us Godspeed upon completing our transactions. I can remember him telling Brutus and I to be cautious and guard our souls."

Violet was incredulous at the memory that came to mind. "I did, Kitten, I met your Papa on several occasions, he seemed a very nice man."

Lady Eleanor agreed, "Yes, he was, one of the best men I ever knew." She nodded and leaned forward to pat Betsy's knee. "I never told you before, as it did not matter once he passed, and I did not want you to think badly of his practices. He only used it for good, you understand?"

"Yes, I do." Betsy wiped a tear from her cheek, she could not wait to visit his marker and tell him how proud she was, though she realized he already knew.

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