Richard sat and drew Tommy onto his lap. Tommy gave a small bounce, then watched wide-eyed
as night came in the middle of the morning. The leaves rustled and somewhere a cock crew, but Tommy
was watching the racing shadows. He looked up and touched Richard's face.
"Sdark," he said quite clearly.
"So it is." Richard kissed the top of his head.
Emily leaned against her husband and they watched the children watching the eclipse. Tom and
Elizabeth had gone off to the telescope platform.
All too soon umbra and penumbra passed and the world emerged into the common light of day.
Tommy jumped up and ran off shouting. Emily sighed.
"What is it, dear heart?"
"The magick always goes away."
"Not always. Shall we go home, Emily?"
"To Mayne Hall?"
"To Wellfield."
She drew a sharp breath. "But I thought you meant to ask Tom's advice..."
"Not Tom's. Matt's."
Emily sat very still.
Richard regarded her with quizzical hazel eyes. "It won't be forever. I mean to purchase
Hazeldell, but that will take some time. Even then, if you like, you can place a bailiff in charge of the land.
Tom has a lad his agent has been training."
"But you can't want to live at Wellfield," Emily said, distressed and hopeful at the same
time.
"My dear, wherever we go there will be gossip. I thought you understood that."
"I do, but--"
"Then let's go home and ignore the tabbies. Matt rowed me around the lake three times
explaining why we should live in his house. He plans to charge me an enormous rent and buy a roan gelding
that runs like the wind."
"The little devil!"
Richard laughed.
"You don't mind. Truly?"
"I don't mind. But I said I'd give you time to reflect. Instead, I've forced your hand--"
Emily touched her fingers to his lips. "Hush. It's exactly what I want to do. Live at Wellfield and
visit Hazeldell at first, then, as the children grow older, live here and visit Hampshire. When Matt comes of
age..."
"And his roan wins the Derby--"
"Hush."
"But--"
She hushed him with a brazen daylight kiss. It was probable that everyone saw them, including
Miss Bluestone.
* * * *
Tom and Elizabeth wandered back. Maggie and Johnny, flushed with their not-very-secret
engagement, trotted up hand in hand. The servants spread the alfresco meal. The children abandoned their
boxes and dashed off to the lake, shrieking.
After the picnic, when the children had at last been herded off to their quarters for a wash and the
babies bathed and admired and fed, Tom and Elizabeth led the Falks to the withdrawing room for a glass of
restorative sherry.
They talked, lazily, agreeably, of the Falks' plans. Elizabeth was a little disappointed that they
would not be removing at once to Hazeldell, but she could understand how Emily's attachment drew her
new friend back to Wellfield.
They were about to go up to dress for dinner when Sims, who had never quite fathomed the uses
of a great household, entered the drawing room.
Elizabeth and Tom exchanged glances.
Sims went straight to Emily. "Ma'am, pursuant to instructions, I'm asking you for the 'and of Miss
Theale."
Emily's mouth formed a silent O.
"He means Phillida," Richard said helpfully.
"Oh heavens, Sims, are you sure?"
Sims's face was red. "She 'as done me the honour to agree to me proposition."
Emily gave an audible gulp. "She's a very good girl, Sims, but you'll have to take care of her. She's
not... that is, she..."
"I shall clasp 'er to me bosom with 'oops of steel," Sims said firmly." 'Is lordship don't
mind."
"Then
I
can't very well object." Emily cleared her throat. "And of course I wish you
well. I shall miss Phillida."
Sims beamed benignly. "That's all right, then."
He left.
Emily gave Tom a sorrowing, reproachful look.
"Don't blame me."
"I should have known the eclipse portended some kind of doom. I shall have to find a nursemaid
and
a maid-of-all-work. How did it come about?"
"I'm not sure," Tom said with evident caution. "I think Sims fancies himself as Touchstone to
Phillida's Audrey."
Richard gave a crack of laughter. "'Trip, Audrey, trip.'"
"Just so."
Elizabeth thought it was time to turn the subject. "Of course, being a purely natural
phenomenon, an eclipse portends nothing, certainly not doom. It's easy to see how the superstition arose,
however. I felt quite a chill when that rooster at the home farm began to crow."
Tom stood, stretching and yawning. "I know what I hope it portends."
She smiled up at him. "What?"
"The end of the queen's trial. I can't afford very many two hundred pound interludes."
Richard rose. "I thought the fine was one hundred pounds a day."
"It is. I intend to stay the week-end."
Emily stood, straightening her skirts. "Was it worth the cost?"
Tom smiled at Elizabeth. "Absolutely."
As it turned out, the eclipse portended a recess. The trial was adjourned on Monday. Tom had
paid two hundred pounds for the privilege of not hearing the prosecutor's summary.
When the trial resumed after Michaelmas, the defence began calling the queen's witnesses. The
government's majority in the Lords, never firm, had already begun to erode. Though it was wonderfully
seamy and sold a great many newspapers, the evidence against Caroline of Brunswick was circumstantial.
No one could prove anything. The Lords were restive and so was the Mob. After the second reading, the
Bill of Pains and Penalties was withdrawn.
"Our gracious queen, we thee implore
To go thy ways and sin no more.
Or
if the effort be too great,
To go away at any rate."
The queen's unqualified victory provoked demonstrations wherever there was discontent, and
especially in London. Once more the houses of ministers and government spokesmen lost windows. Whig
houses were illuminated as a sign of victory, or, as in the case of the Earl of Clanross's town residence, out
of prudence. Elizabeth was giving a ball the next evening.
All day Tory servants swept glass and Whig servants spread straw in Grosvenor Square. By eight
Elizabeth's dinner guests were arriving. By ten the carriages were lined up past Lord Harrowby's house and
around the corner. It was going to be, as Jean put it, a famous crush.
Jean glittered. Maggie, clinging happily to Johnny's arm, glowed. There was no doubt they were
going to be the talk of the Little Season.
"I believe you saved this one for me."
Elizabeth smiled at her husband. "The dinner waltz? Yes, indeed." He led her onto the floor.
"Have you danced with every notable old cat in the room?"
"Except you." They swooped. "I wish you wouldn't provide me with an easy target, darling. Are
you off your feed?"
"Preoccupied."
"With the girls? Never mind. They'll do. The gossips are calling them Fire and Ice and predicting
great things."
"A comfortable irony. Mmm." She closed her eyes and let the musick take her.
"Jean will eventually thaw."
Eyes still closed, Elizabeth smiled. "That's what I'm afraid of."
I was born in Montana and raised in eastern Oregon, graduated from the University of
Washington, and have advanced degrees in English and history. I taught for many years at Clark College
before retiring to write full time. My nine published novels include four Regencies and five mysteries. I am
collaborating with my friend Sarah Webb on a YA fantasy set in Iron Age Ireland. My new mystery, Buffalo
Bill's Defunct, will be published by Perseverance Press in September 2008. I might be moved to write
another Regency-who knows? Uncial Press is reissuing my four Regencies. I've been married many years to
a terrific man who is a computer genius and a fine photographer. My son's Rhodesian ridgeback was the
model for Towser in Buffalo Bill's Defunct. I like to read, cook, and travel. I've taught fiction writing,
science fiction, and Irish history as well as more ordinary classes and miss teaching because I had great
students. Growing up with four unusual brothers and a sister has probably had more impact on my ability to
develop characters than any other life experience.
* * * *
Uncial Press brings you extraordinary fiction and non-fiction. Put a world of reading in your
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