Lorenzo

Earl Lorenzo placed the diamond-encrusted quill on his desk in the study. Rays of pallid March sun glinted off the tiny diamonds.

'Grandpa Ashcroft's wedding gift to dear departed Grandma Ashley,' he murmured, gazing at the quill.

Since Grandma Ashley had departed this life some weeks earlier, he was obliged to respond to letters of condolence. Grandma Ashley was beloved of all who knew her in the district of Epstown. It was imperative to reply to one and all.

 Earl Lorenzo felt a hot tear rolling down his cheek.

Equerry Reginald was in the courtyard stabling the horses on the west side of Hampton Manor.

'Gid-d-y up,' Reginald shouted, in his usual staccato, as he attempted to get the young mares in line. A former army major, Reginald was adept at his task.

'Fiddlesticks,' Lorenzo muttered, 'what now of my aristocratic fate? Masquerading as Lord of the Manor? Since Grandpa Ashcroft  is so utterly   bereft  I feel alone in the world.'

 A loud knock on the study door interrupted his reverie.

'Come in,' Lorenzo called out.

Footman Henry stepped gingerly inside.

'Good Morning Earl,' Henry began.

'What is it this time Henry?' Lorenzo asked in an irritated tone.

'Earl, may I be permitted to take an hour off my duties this afternoon to go to the market in the village Square? My son, James, needs a new jacket.'

'Is your son James not capable of making such a purchase himself, Henry?' Earl enquired.

'James just got service at  Dartley Manor as a butler. Promised him I'd find him a jacket. Good'uns at market in village square, locals say. Belonging to the gentry.'

'Yes, yes, Henry,' Lorenzo replied.

'Lucky man, your James, at least he knows his place in society.'

Footman Henry gazed in disbelief at his young master.

'Earl, you be Lord of Hampton Manor? Leastways that's what they all say.'

'Henry, I have no proof,' Lorenzo replied.

Henry shifted nervously, unused as he was to such conversations with his master.

'You be your father's son?' Henry answered.

'I'm reputed to be the grandson of the present Lord of the Manor, Lord Ashcroft. He has absented himself from society since his wife, my beloved grandmother, Lady Ashley, departed this earth.'

'That makes it your Manor then, don't it? Never really went to school Earl. So don't know much about folk in big houses. Just do my footman's job, I do.'

'You see Henry, to live in the big house you must have rights and you must have papers to prove it. No one really knows who my father is. So I have no deeds to the estate.'

'Deeds, Earl, what exactly are Deeds?'

'Papers, documents, showing who owns what.'

 Lorenzo was irritated, at times, by the servants' lack of knowledge.

Henry had heard rumours. Loyal footman that he was, he chose not to believe rumours. After all, the Manor provided his bread and butter. Earl Lorenzo, as far as Henry was concerned, was a good master.

'Have to go now Earl, or market will close.'

'Henry,' Earl Lorenzo said getting up from behind his desk,' I request you not to disclose any matters which you and I have discussed .'

'At your service Earl,' Henry blurted out.

Gazing out the study window, Lorenzo caught sight of Henry exiting the front gate.

For a brief moment Lorenzo felt a slight sentiment of envy for Henry.

'At least Henry knows his place in society,' he murmured.

'He's the footman. But who am I? Nobody really knows. A waif, dropped off at the Manor, by a strange woman, claiming to be my mother. That's almost thirty years ago. Who is my father? Some profligate son of Hampton Manor?'

Meanwhile, as Henry rummaged through the items of clothing on display, he realised that the market was about to close. The man and his wife, John and Betty Lindsay, who ran the market, began to pack up their goods.

'Can I help ye at all, Sir?' Betty enquired.

'Looking for a good jacket for my son, James. Goin' to work at Dartley, soon as he gets proper clothes.'

'How about this one?' Betty asked, holding up a navy jacket with a gold braid trim. From Hampton Manor. In good nick. Always good from Hampton. '

Henry held the good-as-new jacket and examined the gold trim.

'Ay,' that were Lord Ashcroft's, if memory serves me.'

'You from Hampton?' Betty asked.

'Ay, footman,' Henry answered.

'What's going to happen up there now ? They say that young man is not of the bloodline, eh? Odd name, Lorenzo. That be not an english name, eh?'

Henry remembered his conversation with Earl Lorenzo earlier and coughed nervously.

'Caught a cold, I did,' Henry answered, quickly changing the subject.

'How much ?' Henry asked.

'Twenty shillings, a bargain, eh?  Tuesdays not great for market.'

 Betty retrieved some taupe tissue paper from among the cardboard boxes and hastily packaged the jacket.

Henry was relieved. Life hadn't been easy for his twenty -year old son James since he had been kicked by a horse in his last job.

As Henry returned, the brown paper package under his left arm, the spring sun set over Hampton. In his servant's quarters, he untied the twine and removed the jacket. Tracing his index finger along the gold braid, he remembered dusting it down on racing days for Lord Ashcroft.

He slipped his arms through and examined it in front of the sliver of cracked mirror beside his bed.

 'T'wiil suit James.' he murmured.

As he slipped it off, an envelope with a red seal fell onto the floor. The seal was  broken.

His nervous fingers removed the contents, an ivory coloured document.

It was dated just a few weeks earlier, February 10 1937.

'That were just before Lady Ashley died.' he murmured.

Unrolling the scroll-like letter, he saw 'Solicitors Smyth &Co' written at the top.

Henry was distraught. He simply did not understand what the letter said. The name Lorenzo was written on the letter in a few different places.

By now, night had fallen. Tomorrow he would take the letter to the young Earl Lorenzo.

Henry tossed and turned through the night as he wondered what it could all mean. Maybe Earl Lorenzo would have to go. What then? Would Hampton be closed? After all he had  heard of a Manor that closed down  just outside the little village of Epstown. Folk said flocks of bats now came to roost there at night. A shiver ran down Henry's spine.

At dawn, as soon as the farmyard cockerel crowed, Henry swung his weary limbs onto the cold stone floor.

As he entered the kitchen in the servants' quarters, he detected a sense of gloom.

Maggie, the cook, who had served for many a long year at Hampton was bemoaning the loss of her young assistant, Gertrude.

'Gone north, Gertie has,' Maggie said, 'looking for service in Scotland. Have you heard the rumours about Hampton Henry?' Maggie asked.

Henry didn't wait to reply. Instead he rushed off towards his duties in the morning room, hoping to find Earl Lorenzo.

En route, he spotted Lorenzo about to climb into the family carriage.

'Morning Earl,' Henry called out. Reaching into his footman's jacket, he took out the envelope with the broken red seal and handed it to Earl Lorenzo. There was no time to explain.

Earl Lorenzo received the envelope.

'Will be in London for a sojourn, Henry,' Earl Lorenzo said. 'See to it that Hampton runs efficiently in my absence.'

Within minutes the clip-clop of departing hooves was heard at Hampton.

Days turned into weeks. Spring turned into early Summer. The cherry blossoms bloomed pinkish-white as the days lengthened.

Henry's son, James, got service at Dartley.

One fine May morning the sound of horses' hooves was heard on the avenue at Hampton.

The carriage came to a halt. Earl Lorenzo disembarked. A young lady, with dark curls beneath a white bonnet, accompanied him. They both entered the morning room.

Henry was summoned to the Earl's study.

Henry knocked. The door was ajar.

Earl Lorenzo and the young lady stood by the oak desk.

'Henry,' Earl began,' I have good tidings. Lady Annabelle and I are to be wed. You have played a part in our happiness.'

Henry blurted out, 'I wish you and Lady Annabelle every happiness in your married lives.'

'Henry,' Earl continued,'if you hadn't, as a dutiful father, gone to buy a jacket for your son, James, the gates of Hampton Manor might be closing now.  As of now the family seat of Hampton is secured for generations to come.'

Henry breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Turning quickly on the heels of his black leather boots, he rushed to share his good tidings, below stairs, in Hampton.

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