My Rake's Progress - Chapter 22

There’s an old saying ‘a leopard never changes his spots’ so can a Rake really transform, change into a loving monogamous husband? We always fall in love with the handsome rogue, the naughty boy, and that's the same for the ladies of the Ton as we follow a Regency Rake In  

My Rake’s Progress 

Written by Miss Louisa Ayling.

It starts in the summer of 1812 when families move home, but although there is sorrow for Horatia there is also a wedding of her friend, which she could not miss. Matthias finds himself there too, he keeps his distance but completes his role.

Mourning has been difficult for Horatia, especially with her father dying after a fatal accident, even with friends around her.

Matthias discovers his selfishness when he discovers that Lord Stanwycke is dead and Horatia is back into full mourning again, hoping to give him time to come to terms with himself.

Horatia discovers the depth of Captain Sherrington's love for her when brother Russ helps her by accompanying her to the London solicitors, when she discovers his generosity for real.

Will Chapter 22 show us any surprises?

Transcript

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There's an old saying a leopard never changes his spot, so can a rake really transform, change into a loving monogamous husband? We always fall in love with a handsome rogue, the naughty boy, and that's the same for the ladies of the tongue as we follow a regency rake. In my rake's progress. Written by Miss Louisa Ailing. It starts in the summer of 1812 when families move home, but although there is sorrow for Horatia, there is also a wedding of her friend, which he could not miss. Matthias finds himself there too, he keeps his distance but completes his role. Morning has been difficult for Horatia, especially with her father dying after a fatal accident, even with friends around her. Matthias discovers his selfishness when he discovers that Lord Stanwyek is dead and Horatia is back into full mourning again, hoping to give him time to come to terms with himself. Horatia discovers the depth of Captain Sherrington's love for her when her brother Russ helps her by accompanying her to the London solicitors, where she goes on to discover his generosity for real. Will chapter 22 show us any surprises? End of June 1812. Summer at Stanweek Hall. The Stanweeks had returned from London back to their Sussex estate earlier than originally planned, in point of fact, before the close of the London season, but after Horatia had endured attending her friend Melissa's wedding whilst in mourning. Her dear friend was now Lady Trench and still on her bridal journey around England, Scotland and Ireland meeting Sir Harvey's family and close friends. Horatia had tried to bury herself away in her rooms into a pit of nothingness. She had no interest in anything it seemed, didn't know what day it was or what time, often forgetting to eat. She was beginning to lose weight and looked tired and drawn, a fact her mother was worried about, that she was going to make herself unwell, becoming sick, then join the dear captain. Justin's parents wrote to her on occasion, just asking after her health, prompting her to visit the house that Justin had purchased as their future home, also his solicitor to sort out the annuity to get it up and running. She felt she could not face any of it until she could reasonably cope, which was definitely not at this moment in time. A knock on her door broke into her drifting world of thoughts and constant pain. Enter. She said softly. Horatia, dear, a couple of friends of yours have arrived, will you see them? Who? Miss Ava Sinclair and Miss Clarice Aldridge, my dear. They are eager to see you. Except for the Sunday service, you've not been out of the house since our return or seen anyone, my dear. It's not good for you, you know. Send them up, Mama. Horatia agreed in a timid distant voice. The two friends soon entered the room, and were shocked to see their friend looking so unwell. They were followed swiftly by Peggy with a tea tray. I really cannot believe that this has really happened to you, Horatia, your poor captain. Leaving this world so young. You're hardly helping, Clarice. Ava stated as she took Horatia's hand. How are you faring, my darling? She placed her second on top and squeezed it between them. It's early days, but I know it will become easier over time. She then used her fingers to tidy an errant curl covering her friend's right eye and tucked it behind her ear. Clarisse busied herself pouring tea. Will it? Ava was pleased to at least receive a response. Yes, dear it will. I know when my brother Henry died in India whilst in the army, it hurt but eventually got better. I still think of him. It still hurts a little, but nothing like it was in the beginning. I now cherish of all the lovely memories about him. I just feel lost, Ava, I cannot explain it. Nothing matters anymore. I sleep, sit, eat, sit, and sleep again. That's all I want to do at present. Well, that's to be expected. You're in mourning, Clarice said, as she handed Ava a cup of tea. Would you like a biscuit, Ava? No, thank you, Clarice. Ava took a sip of her tea before placing the pretty cup and saucer on the little mahogany pie crust table standing by her chair. She tried to change the subject. Did you hear about Mr. Peggy's bull escaping again? He believes he had a great time in his western fields where the young heifers were out to pasture. The stubborn old bull, it took them three days to get him back in his own field. He'd obviously been having too good a time of it. Ava laughed and Cherisse joined in, but Horatia had only a hint of a smile on her lips for a short while. Then, Mrs. Smythe is up to her old tricks again at the church. Lady Cambridge was away visiting friends at the lakes, so Mrs. Smith has self-appointed herself ahead of the flower tributes in the church and the organizing of the harvest festival, she has managed to annoy all the other ladies, so they're no longer helping with the flowers, except for deaf and elder Miss Tullett, who does not know what is occurring, as usual again very little response from Horatia. The two friends eventually admitted defeat after half an hour, and vowed to return in a few days, which Lady Stanwyek was grateful for, as she was worried that Horatia would fall into a decline if they did not look after her. Horatia just felt like her life had ended, and that this would be her existence until she died. She knew she really liked Justin, but hadn't recognized it as deeply loving him, until she had felt her heart had been ripped in two, it hurt so much and she missed him so much. He made her feel loved, a feeling no one had made her feel. She knew she could evoke lust in a gentleman, Temple was a prime example, but he seemed to lust after anyone in a dress, any woman under forty. She must admit he had discerning tastes, even though he was known to frequent bawdy houses and elicit gentlemen's clubs in town. In fact, he never seemed to be without female companionship, whether from the ton or the demimond. Oh dear, I'm such a ninny. Who would want someone like her? Especially not Temple. He's made that clear on more than one occasion. She sighed and took a biscuit from the plate on the unretrieved tray, nibbled it, but tasted like sawdust. She replaced it back on the tray, partially eaten. Then flopped back on her bed and cried again, falling into an unrestful sleep. January 1813. Templeton House. The door of his study swung open unceremoniously, to see Sir Harvey standing there. Have you heard the news, Matt? Matthias looked up at the shocked face. What news is that? I know that Lord Petersham has called off the duel. I knew he didn't have the ghoul to face me. No. It's Lord Stanwyck. John's father. Matthias looked perplexed. No, I haven't. Please enlighten me. He's dead. Been killed. Knocked over by a speeding dray. That's dreadful news. Poor Horatia. Yes, poor Horatia. She is now in double mourning. She'd been in half mourning, but now she's now back in full mourning. Matthias thought about Sir Harvey's words and realized that meant that she would continue to not socialize, which, although sad, it had the disadvantage thus she would not be in a position to meet many gentlemen. This would mean that he could continue his work for the home office, and in his own lifestyle without worrying about his little pee hen, although he would send his condolences, etc., as appropriate. He dared not see her personally, he would unsettle him, his lusting after her would overpower him, so a letter to John and his mother would suffice. It would include his sincerest wishes to the whole family, of course. Yes, that was the best thing. Well, definitely for his equilibrium, anyway. March 1814. Sherrington's Folly, Kent. The carriage slowly meandered around the narrow lanes, then in and out of the drovers' tracks that wended their way through the many orchards and hop fields that were well established, stretching out over the south downs of Kent. Horatia peered out of the carriage window at the lush countryside, and a slight smile played on her lips, the first one that Russ has seen on his sister since he'd been home on leave. It's quite lovely, Russ. As he watched her, he saw the tell-tell sheen of tears in her eyes and knew what she was thinking. Yes, it's quite beautiful, my dear sister. I'm pleased you have made this journey to see it. The house I believe is not far from the sea or Dover, but on the edge of the South Downs. It seems idyllic. But I just wish. Russ pulled her into his arms again. It appeared to have been his constant role since his return home. She had decided that at last she could make these journeys, initially to the London solicitor and then to Kent, because he was there to support her. I know, sweetheart, I know. And Russ did know, as the young lady he had been courting, Miss Mirabella Fordike, died from a virulent fever whilst he was at sea, so he could empathize with her. Will it ever go away, Russ, this feeling, this empty nothingness? Time, sweeting, but I warn you it never completely goes away. You will always love him, miss him, but he will remain eternally youthful as you age. By then, you will have found contentment. Is that how you feel, Russ? Contentment? Huratia asked. No, not yet, but I plan to. Now let's look at the house more clearly. Russ replied as the carriage came to a halt, the door swung open and Russ alighted, he turned to assist Horatia. Well, this is a larger property than I expected, Sister Dear. Russ stood surveying the front facade with its numerous windows and red bricks that stood on a slight rise in the landscape and dominated the park. Yes, it is. I expected to find a cottage, similar to the Dower House at Stanwyck. Me too. This is much more than a folly. Russ turned to look at the direction they had driven along the driveway and could not see the gates. Well, I'm impressed. Your gentleman has done you proud, and the fact that he willed it to you just shows the measure of his esteem. And that it would never pass to a future spouse and it's not entailed, so I can then will the estate to whom I wish within my family, his family or friends. He knew you well and that you would make a wise choice. Yes, I believe he did. Horatia stared out of the front lawn, her eyes glazed with unshed tears. Russ took her hand, drawing her attention. Shall we? I believe we shall, brother dear. She blinked a couple of times, and they were soon through the open oak doors, entering the entrance hall. A stiff gentleman in unrelieved black, except for his crisp white shirt and cravat, was standing there. Welcome to Sherrington's Folly, Miss Stanweek, we've been expecting you. My name is Hedges, Miss, and Mrs. Granger, the housekeeper, has prepared your cambers. Thank you, Mr. Hedges. May I introduce my brother, Captain Russell Stanweek. Captain Stanweek, a pleasure, sir. Please let me introduce you to Mrs. O'Connor. A rotund lady with a broad smile and a dark blue dress with a white lace around her collar came forward. This is Mrs. O'Connor, Miss Stanweek, and her brother, Captain Stanweek. She curtsied. I'm so pleased you've come, Miss Stanweek. She responded in an attractive lilting Irish accent. And you too, Captain Stanweek. Welcome to Sherrington's Folly. Please follow me. Mr. Hedges, please ask Tinsley to bring the luggage up to their rooms. One of the young footmen bowed and quickly went out to the carriage to retrieve their valises, as Horatia, followed by Russ, followed Mrs. O'Connor up the stairs. They both soon settled and Mrs. O'Connor showed them around the house, then served them tea and cake in the garden room. Well, what do you think, Horatia? It's impressive and not what I expected, Russ. It's a much larger house, but it has been tastefully decorated and does not appear to need any work, as far as I can see. Yes, he did well for you. And there's so many old features still preserved, which I like. The fireplace in the main drawing room was very impressive, but you need to check whether the chimneys have been swept. I agree, especially before next winter. Shall we visit the stables and garden? Horatia wandered around with Russ, they planned to ride the estate with Mr. Boscombe, the estate manager, who was also the stable manager on the morrow, just to look at the parkland and tenant farms. Horatia decided she could easily live here with companionship. September 1814. Stanwyek Hall. The autumnal colours were gradually starting to take over in the gardens and parklands surrounding the house, painting the trees in yellows, orange, and copper browns. Horatia loved this time of year as she looked out of the window of her bedchamber. She wished she had the talent to capture the scene before her in paint on a canvas, but she realized that the skill was not hers to express with much success. She sighed as she turned away, ready to carry herself downstairs to await her dear friend, Clarisse, now Lady Clarisse Pembroke. Lady Clarice had married in June to a major Sir Virgil Pembroke, but he had returned to duty, so Clarice was going to spend from autumn into the new year with Horatia, to keep her company. Something for Horatia to look forward to. Horatia's carriage awaited on the front drive, another thoughtful gift from her dearest captain, for the departure to Kent, and her trunks and valises already stowed aboard. Horatia heard the sound of a carriage on the drive and the arrival of Clarice was announced, so they were soon on their way. A change of scenery away from her mother, away from Stanwyek, and her memories was what was needed now that she was out of mourning. She had felt it had been never ending, that it would be her continued existence until death claimed her too. After an uneventful journey with lively chatter, enjoyable stops for refreshments, the change of horses, and comfortable seats, the carriage arrived at Sherrington's Folly. Mr. Hedges quickly had the footman in motion to help the ladies alight and organise the retrieval of the ladies' luggage to be placed in their chambers, where a maid would unpack them for their stay. Mrs. O'Connor had already had a tea tray brought into the garden room before they had even sat. Well, Horatia, it's beautiful. Well situated too. Not far from the coast, but a good route to London and not too far from Sussex, but far enough to ensure your privacy. Yes. I cannot believe that he was so very kind to provide for me. I need not marry if I do not wish to, but I feel it would be a lonely existence. I do miss him. Yes, he was such a good man. A gentleman with such feelings. I believe he really loved you, Horatia, and I think I found that same devotion in my dear Virgil. I just wish he had not had to return to be with Wellington's forces, but now that Boney is back on the loose, I know he is needed, and I just pray he returns soon. I know, it's a worry, Clarice. They settled in, dinner was a relaxed affair, and they were soon ensconced in their own chambers for a good night's rest. The early morning light filtered through the gaps in the drapes and the sound of Connie, the maid assigned to her could be heard in the dressing room, and Horatia found she had a hot chocolate and a bath already prepared, so that she would be able to go down to break her fast, ready to face the day. News had traveled fast of her arrival, and already invitations had arrived, and they knew that visitors would also arrive in the afternoon. Clarice joined her in the small family dining room that overlooked the garden and the lake. I'm loving this house more and more, and cannot wait to see the grounds. I thought we might do that this morning. We could walk or ride. The stable boasts a couple of pleasing mares. We can send a message down to Mr. Boscom and he would have them saddled for us. Clarice nodded her consent, shall we say ten of the clock? They rode out taking a similar route she had with her brother, and a groom escorted them to ensure their safety, as you never know being this close to French shores. The groom explained about the grounds, the boundary lines, and the estates that bordered Sherrington's Folly. They were just crossing a brook that was flowing towards St. Margaret's Beach, and a deep voice stopped them in their tracks. Here. You there. Whom might you be? A handsome gentleman who had a military stature was sitting on a large dappled grey stallion stood on the bank, his grey eyes assessing the riding party but impatiently awaited an answer. And who might you be? Horatia asked firmly in return, standing her ground. I'm Sir Benedict Cranshaw at your service. My estate is next to Sherrington's Folly. Langdon Park? I'm Miss Horatia Stanweek of Sherrington's Folly. Good afternoon, sir. This is my friend Lady Clarice Pembroke. A pleasure, my lady. He looked at Horatia. So, how long will you be in residence, Miss Stanweek? We plan to be here until the new year, Sir Benedict. Spended. The area will rejoice at having such wonderful new company within our midst. The company of beautiful ladies is always welcome. I will send you an invitation to my little soaree taking place on Saturday, and I hope you are able to attend. Thank you, sir, I look forward to receiving it. He took up the slack of his reins and doffed his hat. I wish you ladies a good afternoon. Wheeling his horse around, he trotted off briskly in a westerly direction. What a handsome gentleman, and a close neighbour. This place gets better and better. Clarisse said conspiratorially. Do not start getting ideas, Clarice, I'm not sure I'm ready for anything like an attachment yet. No, but I have at least four months to help you change your mind. She laughed and they continued on their journey around the estate, but the image of Sir Benedict strayed into her thoughts. The afternoon heralded the visitors. The first to arrive found Horatia answering a couple of the invitations she had received. A Mrs. Snodgrass and a Miss Peach, Miss. Thank you, Hedges, show them in. The normal courtesies took place and Horatia found out that one was the wife of the vicar, whereas the other was on the committee. Several more arrived, including a Beatrice Cronshaw, the sister of Sir Benedict, who had obviously come to see who her brother had offered an invitation to. Both Horatia and Clarice were grateful for the afternoon to end so that they could rest before a quiet dinner.