The Merry Marquis Shocks the Papers
By Jude Knight
The Masquerade Ball held by the Earl of R., always a scandalous event, last night surpassed even the excesses of 1809, when the Dowager C. of S. arrived in the guise of the infamous Empress Messalina and is purported to have amused herself accordingly.
Yesterday evening, the M. M., always a favorite with readers of this paper, arrived with his friend Lord O. The M. M. was costumed as the Merry Monarch in an obvious nod to his nickname, and Lord O. wore a Roman toga and a wreath of bay leaves.
The gentlemen announced they needed to fill the last two places in the ‘game bag’ that he and Lord O. needed to win their bet with Mr. H. (See earlier columns in this paper for such details of the bet as can be published in a paper that may be seen by the eyes of the gentle sex or even servants.)
There being an excessive number of candidates for the two positions, the M. M. asked that aspirants form a queue, and he and Lord O. commandeered the study and conducted interviews. The ladies who joined the queue were masked, of course, but Lady V. was recognized by her voice when dragged from the line by her husband.
The true disruption of the evening came later, however, when the M. M. and Lord O. returned to the ballroom, where they were accosted by Lord B., who challenged Lord O. to a duel, naming (though we blush to repeat it) the gentleman’s own wife!
When Lord O. punched Lord B., Lord B. drew a sword from his cane. He was disarmed by the M. M., and an altercation followed involving a number of gentlemen and even some ladies!
Lord O. and the M.M., despite the unfortunate incident, apparently found time to complete the game bag required to win the bet with Mr. H., for the betting book at their club this morning shows that Mr. H. has made the required donation to a Seminary for the Reform of Young Women of Questionable Virtue.
A Baron for Becky
Becky is the envy of the courtesans of the demi-monde—the indulged mistress of the wealthy and charismatic Marquis of Aldridge. But she dreams of a normal life; one in which her daughter can have a future that does not depend on beauty, sex, and the whims of a man.
Finding herself with child, she hesitates to tell Aldridge. Will he cast her off, send her away, or keep her and condemn another child to this uncertain shadow world?
The devil-may-care face Hugh shows to the world hides a desperate sorrow; a sorrow he tries to drown with drink and riotous living. His years at war haunt him, but even more, he doesn’t want to think about the illness that robbed him of the ability to father a son. When he dies, his barony will die with him. His title will fall into abeyance, and his estate will be scooped up by the Crown.
When Aldridge surprises them both with a daring proposition, they do not expect love to be part of the bargain.
EXCERPT
Aldridge said goodbye to his friend, then went off to Margate, summoned by His Grace, the Duke of Haverford to explain the scandal that had erupted at a Society masquerade ball the night after Astley’s. The gossip rags were relatively circumspect, aware of the Duke’s reach. But the mother of one of Sarah’s friends, Mrs Harrowmead, was an eyewitness and poured it all into the ears of the assembled mothers when they walked with the girls in the park.
“There was a queue. Can you believe it? Aldridge and Overton turned up hoping to find volunteers and had an excessive number of applicants for the last two… encounters. So they decided to conduct interviews. All very discreet, nothing stated plainly, but the word travelled right through the house, and—I swear to you, my dears, I saw it with my own eyes—the ladies formed a queue in the hall outside the study, and went in one at a time.”
“But… their husbands?” protested one of the other women, leaning forward so she didn’t miss a word, her eyes wide and avid.
“They were mostly widows, dear. One or two ladies whose husbands do not seem to mind—you know the sort—but Major Lord Vincent came and dragged his wife away; literally dragged her, and she screaming that he deserved to be Aldridged. Darlings, I did not know where to look.” Mrs Harrowmead’s shudder of horror would not have shamed Mrs Siddons.
“Dreadful!” the other women agreed, with great delight.
“But that wasn’t the worst. After they had chosen the… successful ladies, they went back to dancing. I think they must have arranged to meet them later, do you not agree? They were but an hour in the study, and they must have interviewed at least nine ladies. I did not see the whole, for Edward disapproved heartily when he noticed I was watching, and took me off to dance.”
“Then Lord Ballingcroft arrived, looking for Overton.”
Mrs Harrowmead paused for dramatic effect.
“He challenged him to a duel, and Overton planted him a facer right in the middle of the Douglas Reel!”
The response was suitably shocked, both at Overton’s disregard of etiquette, and at Mrs Harrowmead’s use of schoolboy slang. She’d not have heard that from her husband. A careless younger brother, perhaps?
“Then Ballingcroft pulled a sword out of his cane, and Aldridge—I did not perfectly see how, but Aldridge took it from him, and, my loves, he told Lord Ballingcroft that he did not deserve Lady Ballingcroft, and if the lady ever did stray, Lord Ballingcroft would have brought it on himself, for he was an unfaithful husband and a poor…” here the lady blushed. “Um. Lord Aldridge implied that Lord Ballingcroft was inadequate in…”
“Bed sport,” supplied one of the other women, bluntly.
“Then what happened?” asked Becky, who had seen Aldridge’s black eye when he called on his way to Margate.
“A brawl, Mrs Winstanley,” Mrs Harrowmead said. “Lord Ballingcroft hit Lord Aldridge, and Lord Overton hit Lord Ballingcroft, and some other gentlemen joined in, and even some ladies, and Edward took me home.” The lady was clearly disappointed. “And Lord Ballingcroft is at home with a broken jaw, or so they say. So there will be no duel.”
“But the newssheet said…” the lady who had spoken of bed sport was clearly intrigued. “How did they manage it?” And she quoted the gossip column entry from memory. “‘Lord O. and the M.M., despite the unfortunate incident, apparently found time to complete the game bag required to win the bet with Mr H.’ When did they find time? And the energy?”
Becky thought to herself that this lady’s husband would be wise to keep her away from Aldridge. Her own experience with Aldridge suggested several plausible answers, but she didn’t enlighten the company. Mrs Winstanley would have no idea about such scandalous goings-on.
Time to collect Sarah from the skipping game by the pond and make their way home.
Jude Knight
Jude Knight writes strong determined heroines, heroes who can appreciate a clever capable woman, villains you’ll love to loathe, and all with a leavening of humour.
Jude Knight is the pen name of Judy Knighton. After a career in commercial writing, editing, and publishing, Jude is returning to her first love, fiction. Her novella, Candle’s Christmas Chair, was released in December 2014, and is in the top ten on several Amazon bestseller lists in the US and UK. Her first novel Farewell to Kindness, was released on 1 April, and is first in a series: The Golden Redepennings.
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I just love all the gossip from the Merry Marquis !!
Collette, thank you for having me to visit. Folks, Aldridge (the Merry Marquis) and Hugh (Baron Overton) will get their comeuppance, I can assure you.
Such a pleasure, Jude!!