Authors: B L Bierley
“The lot of … surely you don’t mean to imply that I have a
similar … No, no, please don’t say a word, my lady! I beg you!” Lord Attinger
began backing away in haste. He nearly crushed the foot of a man as he made his
retreat in earnest.
Lem, the man of the endangered appendage, clucked his tongue
in polite teasing as the frightened lord hurried off in the direction of the
veranda. Bliss looked up, her face a mask of innocence.
“What have you been up to, my lady? Scaring off the local
swains with premonitions of their intendeds again, are we? Tsk, tsk, that’s not
very sporting of you,” Lem said as he bowed over her hand. Bliss looked around
for Lettie.
“Where is Mrs. Lemuel Murphy tonight? Feeling a mite peckish
these days? Well fear not, my friend. The happy day is well beyond your next
contract with the publisher so you’ll have the necessary funds to line the
nest!” Bliss said in happy triumph.
“And now I expect you want me to ask you again if the new
member of my young family is a boy or a girl? Well, fie upon you! I wouldn’t
even if you begged me. I’m perfectly content with both of my little girls! I
couldn’t give a ripe fig whether it was a boy or not. I merely wanted to ask if
the child will be healthy,” Lem said with little sincerity to hide his
burgeoning curiosity.
“Of course the baby will be in excellent health. But the
name will cause a bit of bother. A word of advice, choose the namesake
carefully this time, it could have a windfall effect if the godparent gets
proper respect.”
Bliss didn’t budge an inch. The subject of children, gender
in particular, was a curiously satisfying secret to keep. Bliss was privileged
to know most outcomes nowadays with unfailing accuracy, but telling them would
take all her informed teasing away. And where was the fun in that?
Lem and Lettie’s oldest daughter was christened Leticia Bliss,
in honor of his valued friendship with her. But she knew he harbored a burning
desire to have a son and heir to his growing fortune.
Lem proved himself a worthy author of prose in the past
three years. The Bradshaw’s and Murphy’s both benefited from his good fortune
each time a new book received its due in the bookmaker’s stacks. And his witty
stories were among some of the most favored titles in England.
Bliss was secretly itching to tell him that he would have a
son at last, but she kept it to herself because she didn’t want to spoil the
joy of the moment for Lettie. The mother deserved to reveal the baby boy after
the harrowing ordeal of a difficult labor
Lem laughed at her avoidance, knowing that no information on
his child’s sex would escape his knowing friend. Instead, he turned the topic
toward her still non-existent betrothal.
“Is your future groom among us this evening?”
“Sadly, no. I’m growing tired of waiting for fate to show me
favor. I shall run mad soon if things don’t look up,” Bliss said in playful
drama. Lem laughed again.
“Perhaps the subject of my next story should include a
character with your strange dilemma? It would be all the rage!”
“You wouldn’t dare! Besides, I already see your next
conquest! You will love the tale when it unfolds. I’m practically drooling
already in anticipation,” Bliss said with a knowing look.
Lem’s eyebrows shot upward. This news was welcome to him
after having suffered a drought of writing fodder. He felt instantly more at
ease.
“I could always count on you, Bliss, to pick me up when my
genius fails me! You are invaluable among men and priceless in the world of women,”
he told her genuinely.
“You never could trust yourself to do what you’re destined! I
only give you the necessary nudges when the time calls for it. But I need to go
find Merryann. Please excuse me and give my warmest regards to Lettie! Tell her
I look forward to her next big event!”
“I certainly will. It was a pleasure seeing you again,” Lem
replied with a grin. He bowed respectfully and winked as she nodded and turned
to leave.
Bliss never really intended to seek
out her sister, but to instead needed to find a quiet corner to ruminate over a
new vision that came upon her while she was talking to Lem. The picture was oddly
blurry. But most of her visions regarding personal future events were murky at
best.
Her visions of the lives of others were now practically as
if she was there in person, watching the future event happening with stunning
clarity. So it was doubly frustrating when any new scenes wouldn’t fully materialize.
And yet that’s how it always was when the visions were personal.
Somehow the scenes of personal life wouldn’t quite come to
focus. It was a troubling problem. This vision in particular has something to
do with her and a visit to Aunt Penelope and Uncle Ozzie. And on the fringes,
Eric came into view.
After an hour of review, Bliss felt only frustration for the
efforts she spent trying to get a clearer picture. She decided her best action
was to go to her father and mother and request a visit to Lord and Lady Osterburg
in Bristol immediately following the ball.
As if the decision determined the outcome, Bliss instantly
received a crisp flash of herself walking up to the hospital in Bristol with
Pauline, her ladies’ maid. That was all the proof she needed.
With the decision made to request the trip, the visions of
her upcoming weeks became sharper and more abundant. Bliss smiled at the
thought that she had figured out a way to solve her problem! By choosing the
proper path for herself, she was advancing her future the way it was intended
to happen!
The Osterburg’s, Bristol, March 1811
“Daniel? Daniel? Oh there you are! Have
you heard from Maxwell today? Bliss will be here any minute. I was hoping he
would heed my warning and be present when she arrived!” Lady Penelope Osterburg
said in annoyance.
“My dear, I’ve not heard a word from either of our sons
since the St. Patrick’s Day ball. Are you certain you told him specifically
which day and time? Perhaps he got held up in London?” Lord Osterburg, Ozzie,
said dismissively.
“The date was very specific when I told him I expected him
to be at home. Why on earth is he in London at this time of year? The season is
afoot! He’s terribly shy about things such as balls and parties! That’s
precisely why I told him to come here and visit with Bliss. She’s perfect for
him!” Penelope grumbled impatiently.
Ozzie looked at his wife as though she’d suddenly sprouted
wings, complete with feathers.
“Don’t look at me like that! You know as well as I do that
Maxwell will never marry if we don’t give him the proper opportunities!”
“Why on earth would we want him to marry so young, my love?”
The sound of carriage wheels interrupted her reply. Penelope
gave a surprised gasp and hurried to inform the butler that her guest had
arrived. Then she made her way quickly to the receiving room to wait.
Penelope was always delighted whenever one of Luxie’s
daughters visited. But Bliss was always the most entertaining! The sound of
footsteps coming up the stoop signaled to her that her impatience would soon be
rewarded. The only dark spot on the moment was that her reserved younger son
wasn’t present to begin his clumsy courtship of her desired choice for his
wife.
“Lady Bliss Penwood,” the butler intoned nasally as Bliss
stepped into the receiving room.
“Bliss, my darling girl! I’m so happy you arrived safely!”
“I had never a moment’s doubt that I would, Aunt Pen. And
I’m very glad to see you too!” Bliss replied with her impish grin.
The two women hugged enthusiastically. After they separated,
Penelope signaled the housekeeper to fetch a tray for tea immediately.
“I’m so happy to have you visit us so soon after the ball! I
wonder at why, though. The season is in full swing! You should be in London
with Merryann showing how beautiful the duke’s daughters are and what a catch
you would be,” Penelope teased.
“Merryann doesn’t like the crush, and I’m inclined to think
she’d be more visible if I made myself scarce. You know how she tends to hide
whenever she finds a reason. I’m perfectly content to wait. I’ve got plenty of
time,” Bliss said archly. Her tone was playful, so Penelope didn’t take it
seriously for a moment.
“You sell your sister too short, Bliss! Any man in
Christendom would be lucky to have a bride from the Penwood stock! Such beauty,
such dowries! Why, even I wouldn’t mind having either of you for a
daughter-in-law!”
“How are your boys? I barely had a word with either of them
at Mama’s soiree. No doubt they’re both doing well.” Bliss removed her
traveling cloak and settled comfortably into the loveseat.
“I confess my eldest is quite the bachelor these days. I
hardly ever know what he’s about. But Maxwell, I believe, is destined for a
bride very soon! He’s rather lonely if my instincts are accurate. What do you
think? Is there a bright spot on his horizon?” Penelope tried to word her
request innocently, but Bliss didn’t give any indication that she had news to
share.
“You needn’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be happy no matter what
comes his way. He’s in no immediate danger of suffering any uncomfortable fate
that I’m aware of,” Bliss replied complacently. Penelope did her best to hide
her frustration.
“How are you feeling these days, Aunt Pen? I’m sensing
you’ve been suffering a bout of indigestion?” Bliss led into a new direction,
catching her honorary aunt completely off guard.
“What? Oh, it’s nothing really. I blame all the rich food
your mother always plies me with whenever I visit her! She’s got the best cook
in England, you know! But don’t tell my Hebert I said that or he’ll serve gruel
for a month!”
The laughter they shared at the thought of this was genuine.
The tea cart arrived, interrupting their discourse for a few moments. Penelope
jumped to a new topic as soon as they were alone once more.
“What would you like to do during your stay here? Daniel was
telling me the local museum has a planned exhibition due out next week. Perhaps
Maxwell can be persuaded to escort you around Bristol during your stay,”
Penelope offered innocently. Bliss only shrugged.
“Actually, I planned to visit a few friends while I was in
town. I hope that won’t make you feel slighted? I rarely get to Bristol anymore
without a handful of family activities to circumvent my visitation. I really
look forward to being able to put my cards out at a few homes while I’ve got
the opportunity.”
“Of course, I know how well you value your friends! I
wouldn’t dream of standing in your way! Do let me know if I can introduce you
to anyone you wish to have a new connection with as well! I’m a valuable asset
in the art of connections!”
Penelope offered a tray of biscuits to her young charge and
waited to see if anything tempted her to mention Maxwell. Unfortunately, Bliss
didn’t accept the bait. A wide yawn, barely concealed by a delicate hand
alerted Penelope to Bliss’s fatigue.
“My dear! I’m so terribly rude. I had no idea you would be
so tired after your journey! Don’t let me delay you from getting your necessary
rest before dinner. This tea will not be wasted. I drink entirely too much
these days! I’m ever so thirsty all the time!” Penelope scolded herself on both
accounts. Bliss merely smiled eagerly at her aunt.
“I believe I know more to the cause than you will believe. But
that can wait. I really am quite tired. If you’ll excuse me, I’d love a chance
to rest up before dinner is served. I’ve got so much to tell you, and I’d like
to have a clear head when we talk over the evening meal!”
Bliss rose from her seat without haste and smiled in the
most peculiar way that it gave Penelope a shiver.
“Go right ahead, dear. Marla will show you to the room I’ve
had made up for your arrival. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ring. I’ll
have Marla give your ladies’ maid a little rest as well. I look forward to
dining with you later,” Penelope said as she rose from her chair unsteadily and
motioned for the door. Her head felt light, and it worried her more than she
liked to admit.
Bliss, age twenty-one, Bristol, March
1811
Her need for rest was a lie. What
she truly needed was a way to break the news she had for Aunt Pen and Uncle
Ozzie so that they wouldn’t discount her.
Uncle Ozzie harbored a healthy level of skepticism when it
came to his honorary niece. Bliss was aware of this. The idea that Aunt Pen
would be the most receptive, while still not believing, gave her only a little
hope.
Penelope was not a cynic or a skeptic, per se, nor was Ozzie.
She loved her husband with a passionate zeal, and a more humorous pair you’d
hardly meet. Despite their cat and mouse nature with one another, Penelope respected
Ozzie’s belief that Bliss’s alleged abilities were merely coincidental.
It was really unusual that Ozzie, a real jokester, would be
so staunch in his doubt. He approved of irreverence on principle. For example,
only his wife could call him Daniel and get away with it. Lord Osterburg had
been Ozzie since an old Pangbourne nickname was given to him for his constant
companionship with Ollie.
He and Penelope usually had an ongoing war with pranks that
sometimes rivaled Shakespeare’s artifice and foolery. Aunt Penelope was rumored
to have once put glue in the chair in his study. When Ozzie sat upon it to
begin his daily accounts, he was practically one with the furniture. He’d had
to remove both his trousers and coat in order to free himself and sneak back
upstairs before being seen by one of the maids in his altogether.
Ozzie had quickly retaliated by mixing salt into Penelope’s
sugar bowl just before she was expecting guests of the Ladies Flower Society
for tea. He’d also put boot blacking on the handles of her shears so that when
she let go of them to wipe her brow, she appeared to have a dark, uniform
eyebrow across her forehead.