Rumor Has It

Dust rises behind George Pentland’s carriage as he arrives at his nephew’s manor in Wiltshire. The date is August 8, 1889, the significance being it is his nephew’s eighteenth birthday. Lord Joseph Pentland of Wiltshire, to be exact. George has been Joseph’s legal guardian and overseer since Joseph gained the title at the tender age of eleven, when both his parents died in a horrible accident.

 George, a tall, good-looking gentleman in his early sixties with a large, well-maintained grey mustache, is met at the door by the butler, Mr. Alan. Taking George’s hat and coat, Mr. Alan informs him that everything concerning the evening’s festivities is proceeding nicely.  George thanks him and proceeds to the drawing room. He finds Joseph sitting in an overstuffed chair, reading the morning’s paper and drinking tea. Joesph springs to his feet. “Uncle George! How wonderful to see you!” While shaking his uncle’s hand, Joesph turns to the maid. “Margaret, would you be so kind as to bring my Uncle some tea, please? Here, sit, Uncle, and tell me what news you bring.”

George can’t help but admire how handsome his nephew has become and smiles. In his rich baritone voice, he begins, “I’ve concluded all the proper paperwork so that tonight you shall be the Viscount of Wiltshire and will be able to conduct your affairs solely on your own.”

“Wonderful, Uncle. But you did make it known that you shall continue to serve me in financial transactions, did you not?” “Of course, Joseph, just as we agreed upon. And might I add that having served you all these years since your father, my brother, died, I’m quite proud of how diligently you’ve studied to prepare for tonight’s ceremony. I’m most assured that you will make a fine viscount.”   

Running his fingers through his wavy black hair, a crooked smile creases Joseph’s face. “Thank you, Uncle. I couldn’t have done it without you. I must admit I’m a bit nervous, though. Will many people be attending this evening’s ball?”

George strokes his mustache. “Oh, yes, indeed. There shall be many high-ranking officials and delegates, family and friends of the manor, and a few honored guests. I should also inform you that one guest is a distant cousin of your father’s and mine—the Duke of Berwick. An unfortunate fellow whose father, the former duke, lost most of the family’s money through bad investments before he died. One might lose one’s fortune but never one’s title. Albert has struggled to maintain appearances, though it has been rather difficult. However, he owns a small woolen mill making blankets for the military.” Leaning in toward Joseph, George lowers his voice. “The thing is, Albert has a charming daughter, Lucy, but no one can recall his wife ever being pregnant. They did live in the rural countryside and didn’t entertain much, so who can say? Still, the rumor is that Lucy is not Abigale’s daughter. Just to let you know in case there are murmurs.” Casting an eye to one side, Joseph purses his lips. “I shall make note of that.” He then smiles a wicked little smile. “Is she pretty?” Looking over the rim of his teacup, Uncle George cautions, “Just be polite, Joseph, nothing more.”

                                                              …

Standing at the top of the stairs leading into the ballroom, Mr. Alan announces the guests as they arrive. The last to arrive is Joseph himself. Standing on the stairs, he looks handsome and distinguished in his swallowtail jacket, beltless grey linen trousers, polished black boots, and gloves. Around his neck, over his ruffled shirt, is the crest of Wiltshire hanging on a red ribbon. Mr. Alan announces in a loud voice, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I proudly introduce the Viscount of Wiltshire, his Lordship, Joseph Pentland!” A rousing round of applause erupts. Exposing perfectly white teeth, Joseph can’t contain himself from smiling broadly. Uncle George rolls his eyes and sighs. “What a schoolboy”.

As the orchestra plays a lovely melody, Joseph descends the steps to greet and mingle with the guests. All the men are dressed in formal evening attire, while the ladies wear beautiful gowns and jewels. Several of the younger ladies are about Joseph’s age. They cover their smiles with their fans and curtsy to him. He smiles in return and must admit that he finds some rather intriguing.

As Joseph receives well wishes and congratulations, Mr. Alan’s voice booms out, “The Duke of Berwick, Lord Albert Aldrich, accompanied by his daughter, Lucy.”

The chatter in the crowd drops an octave as all turn to see. Joseph also looks and is instantly taken by Lucy’s beauty. Her golden blonde hair is swept back to a cluster of tight ringlets held in place by a small tiara. Around her elegant throat is a black velvet ribbon with a cameo. Her white gown has a modestly scooped neckline over an empire waist, giving way to many pleated folds. She wears a single gold bracelet just below the puff sleeve on her slender right arm. Lucy tightly clutches a small beaded handbag.

George growls between his teeth. “That fool would arrive late and bring attention to himself!” George walks swiftly across the dance floor and commands the conductor to play a waltz. When he sees Joseph advancing toward Lucy, he quickly intervenes. George leads Joseph to a cluster of young ladies standing to one side, suggesting that one of them might like to dance with him. George takes Miss Pennyworth’s hand and hands it to Joseph. Understanding his uncle’s intent, Joseph smiles. “Of course, Uncle George. You are correct. Miss Pennyworth, may I?” Miss Pennyworth practically swoons as she accepts. A low sigh of envy escapes the rest of the girls.

Lucy remains alone, meandering through the crowd while her father is off, engaging in some prospects. She comes to a table holding envelopes and packages from guests for Joseph’s birthday. Suddenly she feels a warm hand wrap around her wrist. Her green eyes widen as she turns to see Joseph standing there. “Oh, I beg your pardon, your Lordship. You startled me.” “Then, it is I who should be asking forgiveness. I didn’t mean to startle you but merely to ask you for a dance.” Joseph bows slightly. Folding her hands in front of herself, Lucy cocks her left eyebrow. “My father has told me that your uncle would prefer if we did not get to know one another. The black sheep of the family and all that.” A challenging glint shines in her eye. Tugging his earlobe, Joseph suppresses a smile while exposing a deep dimple in his cheek. “Yes, my uncle can be a bit of an old mother hen, but I love him. Anyway, I’m the viscount now and can see anyone I choose. Again, Miss Lucy, would you care to dance?” Joseph notices her breast rise in hesitation.  Then she curtsies before him. “Yes, your Lordship.  I would love to.”

Joseph escorts Lucy onto the ballroom floor.  He hears low murmurs as he takes Lucy’s right hand and holds it high. Then, at full arm’s length, he places his right hand on her waist. “I suppose this will be safe enough for my uncle, wouldn’t you say?” Lucy smiles. The orchestra plays a minuet, and the partners begin gliding around the floor in three-quarter time.

Joseph speaks. “ I don’t want to seem as though I’m prying, but what exactly makes your family “black sheep?” Perhaps it has something to do with the lost fortune?”

Lucy glances to the side but returns her gaze to Joseph and looks him in the eyes. “No,” she says confidently. “That is not considered to be my father’s fault. We’re pitied for it, if nothing else. No.  The real question is, and I’m sure your Uncle George has already explained, is the matter of my legitimacy being Duke Albert’s daughter.”

Joseph raises his eyebrows, “Ahh. I hope you won’t be offended by my next question, but there is a valid point to it. Are you?”

Knitting her eyebrows together, Lucy huffs. “My goodness, your Lordship, but aren’t you quite the rogue? To answer your question, my true mother was living in the township of Berwick when her husband ran off with another woman. Being pregnant and with no means of caring for a child, she went to see the Duke and his wife, knowing they had no children. She offered her baby to them to bring up as their own, promising to leave Berwick and never to darken their door again. Abigale was desperate for a child, so they accepted the offer. My father told me all this on my sixteenth birthday, for I was about to enter the society of royals, and he wanted me to know the truth. Rumor has it that I’m the illegitimate child of an affair. This is simply not so. There you are. The information you needed to know so badly. What will you do with it, may I ask?”

The music changes to a lively fox trot. Joseph smiles while speaking over the orchestra, “Nothing! It’s really none of my concern.” They skip and twirl to the rushing tune until they are left laughing and breathless. Lucy retrieves her fan from her clutch and begins fanning herself vigorously. Joseph laughs. “Yes, I quite agree! Shall we walk into the garden to cool off?” They stroll out of the ballroom into the garden, where they find a bench and sit.

“Well, what about you, my Lord? Are there any skeletons in your closet you wish to share?”

Joseph looks up at the full moon, then back again to Lucy. He marvels at how its light seems to make her face glow. So beautiful. 

“I do. At one time, we had a young wife working as a maid at the manor. I was about two months old when she got the news that her husband, a sailor on a merchant ship, had been washed overboard during a violent storm and was never found. She was so shocked by the news that she went into labor. Unfortunately, there were complications, and she died during childbirth. The Duke and Duchess felt so bad that they made the child their ward.  Having just had a son, they thought it would be nice for him to have a playmate. Instead of growing up like brothers, their son treated the ward like a pet dog to command, tease, bully, and hurt as he pleased. As they grew, it was noted how much they looked alike. The servants even called them the twins because it was so hard to tell them apart.

At eleven, the ward grew tired of his life as a dog and started plotting to change things. One afternoon, he snuck into the stables and spread lamp oil everywhere. He then placed the lamp on the ground outside of the stables and lit it.  Dashing through the house, he entered the drawing-room where he knew the Duke and Duchess were. Frantically, he explained that he had seen a strange creature in the corner of one of the stalls, which frightened him. He begged them to come and see and ran back outside. They all followed, including Joseph, who had been playing on the drawing-room floor.

When they arrived, the lad stood at the stable entrance, pointing and waving them on with his other hand. “Quickly hurry! There it is in the corner! O’ God!  It’s moving!” The three of them sped past him, going directly to the stall. As they scanned the stall looking for this mysterious creature, they heard a loud whoosh, and the stable was engulfed entirely in flames. There was no means of escape. That’s when I ran back to the house and swiftly changed into Joseph’s clothes, after which I dashed to the kitchen to alert the servants. When they reached the stable, it was too late. 

The Duke’s brother, George, was sent for and asked to take charge of the nephew he had never seen before due to his work. He wholeheartedly accepted the challenge and promised to rear him to be the rightful viscount of Wiltshire. Tonight is that night.”

Eyebrows pulled together over wide eyes, Lucy presses her trembling hands over her mouth. Joseph intones, “You’re trembling. There’s no need to be frightened.  I won’t hurt you.” “I’m not frightened!” Lucy declares.  “ I’m shaking because I’ve never heard anyone so calmly admit to committing murder! I find it terribly exciting!” With drooping eyes, Joseph looks away. “I suppose now that you know my secret, you’ll blackmail me into marrying you. I shall be forced to travel the world to exotic places. Eat at the finest restaurants and stay in the most luxurious hotels, will I not? It’s all right, for I fell in love with you since I first saw you at the ballroom entrance.”

Lucy smiles as she wraps her arm around Joseph’s. “It would appear I have no other choice. But won’t Uncle George be upset?” As they head back to the ballroom, Joseph laughs. “I’m the Viscount! To hell with Uncle George!”