Barron Alsatan looked at his reflection in the glass, his grey hair, his creased face, his powerful spectacles. He turned to his two youngest granddaughters. “Shall we go?”

 Beatrice smiled “You look very distinguished. Any mature woman would be proud to marry you.” Corellia nodded. 

He sighed. “Most of the girls I am going to see tonight are younger than you. I need to wash when I get home. I wish that Everleh wasn’t my heir. Anyone else I could marry Lady Hadley Happily. 

Cordellia brushed his jacket “I am sure she has other irons in the fire. This is important.” 

“Well, let us go then.” He opened the door and went down the stairs. They walked across the square with their bodyguards following them discreetly.

Cordellia saw lord Dentry’s carriage and said “damn!” quietly.

 The Baron looked shocked. “What brought that on! You aren’t supposed to swear like that. People will assume you are a stevedore.” 

“That disgusting old goat is here. He always follows me around and looks down my bodice. I don’t think I will enjoy myself.” 

“He came to ask permission to court you.” The baron glared at the carriage as the corpulent Lord Dentry wheezed to the street. “I told him that since he is older than I am and you two are both have told me your feelings in the matter, I felt it would not be in your interest. He looked at me as if I had two heads. HE did have the right of it. I am being hypocritical.”

 “You wouldn’t crush your intended. Nor would you poison her with the fumes from your mouth.” Cordellia stood up for her grandfather. 

Beatrice said “You also aren’t going to romance them in the hope of a dowry. Who are you going to stand up for tonight? Not lady Francis.” 

“Why not? I don’t believe I will choose her for my wife. She is extremely opinionated. But that is why I dance with her. She is the whetstone for my intellect. Besides, Mr. Ricardo published a paper last week. I would like her opinion on it.” 

Both granddaughters rolled their eyes. Beatrice said “She is 17. I don’t like the idea of my grandmother being six years younger than me. Cordellia and I would both hate it” Cordellia nodded and crossed her arms in front of her and gave an exasperated glare.

 “One more reason to spend the rest of the night talking with the other women. I don’t like the idea of taking a girl fresh out of the schoolroom. But she is markedly an enjoyable person to talk to. If only she were five years older.” He handed the invitation to the footman and walked inside. “The death of my nephew and his wife was a great tragedy. He would have brought great renown. Everlei...” he shook his head. “He would be a disaster.”

 “Let's not think of such tragic things.” Beatrice said with conviction. “Let's find someone you would prefer to little miss Lady Francis.

 However, when they came into the ballroom, they found Lord Dentry ogling Lady Francis who was standing in line to be announced. She was looking very uncomfortable.

 Barron Alasaton looked at him with disfavor. “She is younger than my granddaughters, Dentry.”

 “Ha! You have danced with her several times yourself.” He leered. “She is large where it counts. She looks delectable.”

 “I dance with wallflowers” he said angrily. 

Lady Francis quietly escaped into the ballroom and hustled to the far side. He moved so that Dentry wouldn’t see where she went. “She is of course beautiful, I can see that, but she is a baby. I am not a monster like you.” 

“Ha! Don’t set yourself up as a paragon.” Dentry turned to look for her, and he scowled when he realized she was no longer there. “She is mine, so don’t interfere.” 

“She isn’t yours. She isn’t a rabbit or a doe. She is remarkably intelligent. Not your normal prey. Alasaton stalked into the line ahead of Dentry, to his discomfiture. 

After he escorted his Granddaughters into the room he headed toward the wallflowers. He was obliged to stop when a penniless curate and a Hebraic cit, both excellent dancers, claimed his granddaughters for the first dance. He smiled, knowing that the women were not going to lose their heads over such ineligible men. The fortune hunters in the crowd knew to the farthing how little their dowries were and they left them to the wallflowers.

 When he got there Lady Francis stood up and said, “I need to talk to you,” grabbed his hand and led him to the floor.

 “Young girls shouldn’t grab swains like that,” he said bemusedly

“I don’t care. Besides, you aren’t a man I would be interested in marrying. You would bore me to tears if I married you gossiping about your old friends Able and Seth.” 

They went to where the sets were forming. “I want to thank you for what you did back there. Not only is he a horrible lecher who spends the time in my company talking to my bosom but his breath stinks so badly the Horse Guards should bottle his breath as a weapon to frighten the French” 

“I must admit that I admire your bosom.” The Musicians started up and they clasped hands and looked forward, but they would be a while before their set would be called. 

She smiled. “It is big, isn’t it? But you look into my eyes when you talk to me. So many men don’t.”

 “Your eyes are endlessly fascinating as well. There is a sparkle of pure intelligence behind them.”

 She simpered. “Not so much, really. Have you heard of that new novel Frankenstein? This doctor reanimated a corpse with lightning!” 

He shook his head. “Not likely. I know what lightning can do. I got tired of replacing the tower in our local church and I installed Mr. Franklin’s lightning rods. Lightning is extremely powerful and deadly.”

 Her eyes shone “But Mr. Franklyn proved that lightning is electricity. And Mr. Volta showed we can contain and control it. And we can make frog’s legs jump!” 

The set moved and they were separated. When they came together again, she continued “There is so much we can learn about electricity. I wonder about all the things it can do!” 

He laughed “Not much right now except annoy cats. And make gothic novels have incredible plots”

 They separated again. When they came together, she was troubled. “There is that nasty evil man! He wants to torture me!” 

He saw where she was looking. The musicians were finishing the dance and he looked at her feet and stomped on her skirt. There was the sound of tearing cloth and she looked at him and silently said “thank you” and she trotted to the requirements room opposite Dentry with her skirts held up. 

He admired her calves as she fled, and then walked oner to the ranks of the wallflowers. His first choice was Lady Elizabeth, who unfortunately resembled a cart horse. She had an excellent dowry, but she was conversant with all the fortune hunters, and she had a sharp toung. Facing her in a petty mood at breakfast time had no allure. But she was 25 and was a very good dancer. And as long as he wasn’t the target of her barbs, she was excellent company. She greeted him with “Walter Raleigh gave his cloak to his queen, while you stomped on your beloved’s dress, and you will be accounted the better gentleman thereby.” 

He guiltily said, “She is not my beloved, she is way too young, and that was totally inadvertent.”

 She swatted him with her fan and laughed. “So, you are elderly and can’t control your feet, but you are still a great gentleman, and I will risk my toes because of it.” For the rest of the dance, she entertained him with funny bon mots. Most of which made him sure that he wouldn’t want to marry her, as entertaining as they were.

 His next wallflower was Mrs. Nichols, a plump and cheerful widow of 28. She had married a man of 70 and had three daughters. She regaled him with their wonders. She also assumed his trip on Lady Francis’s gown was deliberate, and also praised him for it. “Dentry is a pest, and I had to have my brothers talk to him. He is still hanging around the requirements room like spider in his web. Detestable man.”

 The next wallflower spent 10 minutes berating him for romancing Lady Francis (“She is way too young for you.” “But I’m not!”) and 10 minutes praising him for being the only man who would stand up for her. She also pointed out that Dentry was still waiting for her to come out. “These cowards make me want to scream! I no longer want to marry any of them”

 After that dance he was so worn so he decided to wait the next dance out. He saw Lady Francis’s maid peeking out of the requirements room at Dentry and zipping back in. 

He wandered back to Dentry with an insincere smile and greeted him. “Are you sitting out the dancing? It is exhausting. I can no longer dance without needing a break.” Dentry gave him a scowl.  “M

“Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you about this railroad proposal you have before the Lords.”

 “Not now! I am busy!” Dentry gave him a filthy look. “How did you get to dance with this chit you claim does not interest you!” He turned back to stare at the requirements room door. 

Baron Whipsead pointed out that he had three rotten boroughs and that there was another proposal that would connect the same cities.

 Dentry growled “Oh all right!” and they walked to a quiet place to discuss the railroad with Baron Whipsnead asking all kinds of questions that would embarrass Lord Dentry. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lady Francis come out of the requirement room as if she had been shot out of a cannon, to be scooped up by a youngster who was an Adonis, who had 7,500 a year. Baron Whipsead felt a twinge of jealousy, which was not what he should feel. He kept asking embarrassing questions for the length of three dances, after which Lady Francis vanished again. 

Lord Dentry fled recognizing that his railroad proposal was probably dead.

 The next dance was the supper dance. He headed toward the wallflowers again. When he arrived, Lady Francis scooped him up. She looked at him admiringly. “My Galahad with a simple waterfall cravat! I want to know how you listened to him for an hour and you didn’t throttle him. Such iron self-control! such a heroic rescue of a maiden! I could almost fall in love with you if you were 40 years younger. Especially since the other gentlemen were deficient.” 

He sighed. “I needed to discuss some legislation with him. Nothing more” 

She gave him a quizzical look. “Modest too. I could fall in love with you if you were 25 years younger.” They stood in the last set. “Tell me, Methuselah, who you met when you were my age?” 

He stared off into space. “I met Adam Smith when I was two years older than you are now. I had purchased my commission in a Hussars regiment, and I was in Edinburgh to meet my men. I met him through my father. “He laughed. “I was a most insolent puppy! I had read his book and he had said that we should give up the colonies because the ‘game wasn’t worth the candle.’ I was due to go to America when my regiment was outfitted. I didn’t go because of the disaster in Yorktown.” 

She smiled. “You didn’t agree with him?”

 He looked chagrined. “I was a puppy. He simultaneously put me down with a great big thump and made it as soft a landing as possible. He had been dealing puppies for most of his life.  Have you read his book?

 “My father had a copy of Wealth of Nations which he forbade me to read. So, I tried. I got to the digression on Silver, and I gave up. “

 “That section is obtuse” he agreed. “But there are sections in the last three books that are full of verbal felicities.  Mr. Ricardo has another pamphlet out.  Are you familiar with it?

“Father gambled way my pin money again. I haven’t had time to read it yet, but I am sure it is all wrong.  My father embarrasses me. We will be defrauding  the grocer again this quarter.  I hate to see his anguish every time I walk by.”

Their set moved forward, and she said as she followed the steps “I will have to try it again, if only to annoy my father.” He shook his head as they moved forward. She would be a handful for any man to tame her. He pitied him. The dance was very boisterous, and he had to concentrate on keeping up. When they finished, they began going to the supper room. He looked around and saw his granddaughters behind him and he waited for them to catch up. They saw him with Lady Francis, and they looked angry. She saw their expressions.

 “They don’t like me?” 

He sighed. “They are upset at me. They know I am looking for a bride who can give me a son. And my heir is sufficiently awful that they have no problem with me finding a bride, but they insist that she be older than Beatrice, who is 22. Quite frankly if it weren’t for my heir, I would be spending time in my club and having a nap. I am not so young.” 

Beatrice came up to them, with Aaraon DeSilva. “Father” she said with pursed lips. Lady Francis smiled “Lady Beatrice! Sir Galahad rescued me from a dragon, or at least someone whose breath smelled like a dragon’s. I was telling him if he were 40 years younger, I would marry like a shot! He spoiled it, because he was gossiping about professors who were around in 1785. My mother wasn’t even a glimmer in my grandfather’s eye yet.” Beatrice relaxed. “He does like to talk about his service in India and Québec.” Lady Fracis looked at him. “You said you didn’t go to America.” He smiled. “I missed the revolution. But I participated in the defense of Montreal in 1813.” Cordellia came up to them with Reverend Harkness. She looked at Beatrice and received reassurance. She pointed to some seats near the wall. “There are six seats together. Let's sit there.” When they sat down Baron Alasaton called the waiter over. They only had five dinners, DeSilva eating an orange and two apples. They were making small conversations while the waiters brought their suppers. Mr. DeSilva asked Lady Francis “Where is your father?” She shrugged. “He is in the card room loosing at piquet.  He got his quarterly interest, so he will be playing high.” 

Reverend Harkness looked disapproving. “He shouldn’t let you out here alone.” She gave him a stare. “Believe me, he is the one who needs a chaperone. But I am not allowed in the card room, so disaster happens without me.” 

Turning to Beatrice she asked, “Where are your parents?” Cordellia answered “St Petersburg. They have been there for six years now. They didn’t want us girls to live in Russ. “

 A family group sat down on the opposite side of the table. The paterfamilias was a loud corpulent short man in an even louder waistcoat. His family was all very subdued with a nervous eldest daughter looking resigned rather than fearful. Coming along behind was a thin oily ancient man and his son who had a constant cruel smile. The oily one put his arm over the resigned lady. “There are more seditious libels against the corn laws. I don’t know why the government doesn’t suppress them.” Lady Francis looked with disfavor at oily. “Free born Britons can speak as they please. This isn’t France or Russia.” 

The Paterfamilias growled “Be silent chit. You don’t know what you are talking about.” 

She made fists on the table. “I understand that when someone knows he has lost the argument is when he calls for the opposition to be silenced. I know which side of my bread is buttered, but taking away the freedoms of Englishmen he is taking away the essence of being English.” 

“You are a young female. Your views are immaterial.”

 She glared at him. “Again, you have no idea what you are talking about. All you have is fear that your greed will be exposed.” The baron passed a sheet of paper with a drawing in pencil that he did while she was talking on it to Mr. DeSilva, who corrected it and passed it back. She glanced at it and looked at the barron’s drawing. “I at least can understand the arithmetic, which I doubt you can do. Though the arithmetic is such that a 12-year-old can understand it.” She grabbed the drawing and pointed it out “Can you doubt that Portugal has the better climate for grapes? Or that Marino wool is finer than Romney?” 

“That is all the more reasonable that we should have high tariffs” oily pointed out icily. 

Lady Francis looked shocked. “Isn’t it obvious that we should grow the wool in Yorkshire and buy our wine from Portugal? That we should get better wine cheaper, and the Portuguese would get more wool? That landlords in both places would get more for their produce should be obvious!”

 The loud one said “It is too complicated for a young woman to understand”

 The baron and Mr. DeSilva traded looks. Lady Francis looked disdainful. “I can see twice two is four, and you are insisting it is seven. I know who lacks understanding.” 

The nervous miss said a little too loudly “I got a wonderful new silk my modest is making me into a lovely new gown. I am so looking forward to wearing it at the next ball.” She looked at Lady Francis pleadingly. 

Lady Francis saw her expression and calmed down. “Your modest made your dress tonight a confection! Don’t you agree Beatrice?” 

Beatrice saw the same pleading look. “I was going to ask for an introduction. It is so flattering!” Quickly the baron’s granddaughters and the women in the next party discussed gowns and fashions. Lady Francis leaned back with a disgruntled expression. 

The baron asked, “I didn’t take you for a Whig.” 

She bridled “I’m not! I just don’t approve of the attitude that Englishmen can’t hold opinions of their own.” 

He looked at her admiringly “You then made the opposition of your views very well defended. It is a skill that very few have.” 

She shook her head. “I don’t believe I made a good argument, but his was so much worse. I certainly didn’t convince myself.” The musicians began tuning their instruments again. Lady Francis stood up, and immediately sat down again. “HE is standing in the doorway. I am surrounded by ancients.” She looked to Mr. DeSilva. “I realize I am being very forward, but can I have you for the next dance? And Reverend Harkness, can you suffer me for the next? I promise not to step on your toes.” They saw Dentry, both agreed, and she wrote their names down on her fan. 

Mr. DeSilva smiled and put out his arm. “Shall we dance my dear?” She laughed and they headed to the dance floor.

 Dentry stood in their way, and demanded to dance, but she told him that she was all booked up for the night. Dentry saw the crush and gave way. They went to the floor with Dentry’s malevolent stare following them. 

The Baron went to the wallflowers and next took up a woman who spoke only in nervous monosyllables. And after her a woman who talked only of her pet parakeet. As the baron waited for his granddaughters to get ready to leave, he saw lady Francis berating her father as they left. She was furious with him, and he was looking cowed. The baron shook his head. Her father had given his vowels for an enormous sum. He could understand her fury, but listening to her made him glad she would never be his wife and having to listen to her being mad at him... that would be insupportable. He was glad she was 45 years younger than him. 

They walked across the square with the bodyguards behind them. Beatrice grumbled about the bodyguards. The baron agreed with her. “They are a nuisance, but after my cousin was murdered not 500 feet from here, they are necessary. I don’t believe that was an isolated attack on our family, I don’t trust my heir” Cordellia Nodded her head. “He frightens me. But that is of secondary importance. Why do you spend so much time with Lady Francis? You are becoming ridiculous around her. It is becoming more difficult for you to get the attention of better choices. I recognize that you need someone, but not her!”

 He sighed. “You are right, I need to avoid her. Besides which she is a virago. Did you notice her and her father before we left? She was infinitely amusing, but I could not stand it addressed to me.”

 Beatrice shook her head. “You knew that before we arrived. But you danced with her, rescued her with a torn dress, and then sat out two dances for her. It is unseemly you are always dancing around her.’He put his hands up. “Yes, you are right. She gets into arguments like we had at supper.” His expression looked wondrous and proud of her. “She is a termagant and doesn’t know her place. I need to avoid her from now on.” His expression became sad.

 His granddaughters rolled their eyes. Beatrice said “Just as long as you know what is important. Find a nice young widow who has a son already. That is all we ask. It is bad enough that we have to put up with your quest, without you robbing a cradle.” 

“But several ladies did like your chivalrous nature.” Cordellia noted with pride. “They all told me that they admired you for it. They all wished you would give that attention to them, rather than an infant.” 

“I will make some calls on some of the ladies I danced with over the week. But I really don’t fancy any of them. And I know that none of them fancy me. They have made that clear. They would prefer spinsterhood to be marriage to someone as old as me” 

“They don’t have to be noble. Or even a cit. Marry one of the maids.” Cordellia walked up the stairs and through the door which the butler held open for them. “You have to have someone soon. Beggers can’t be choosers.”

 “I do want someone moderately well read and is able to carry on a conversation.” 

Beatrice handed her cloak to the footman. “Just as long as she is more than 20 I don’t care. Take an Indian from Madras, a Turk, or a hottentot, Just as long as she is 20 years and 75 days old, I will support you.” 

“How about a Chinese woman?” He opened the door to his bedroom. “Or a Seminole or an American” 

They both laughed and waved him into his bedroom. 

The next morning, he was going through his mail when Beatrice came in with a huge basket of hothouse fruit, topped with two pineapples. She was carrying a note, and she had a determined expression. “Father, look what Mr. DeSilva sent us.” 

The baron looked at the note, which was just a series of numbers. “I don’t approve of him sending messages in code.” 

“I think it amuses me, and I always tell you what he says. And what he says in this one is he wishes to marry me. I know what this one without having to work it out. He wants to marry me. And I am thinking of agreeing with him, even though you disapprove of him.”

 The baron gestured to the chair, and she sat down. “He is an estimable young man, and he is quite wealthy. He is handsome in a slightly homely way. He is polite and kind and he is, almost, everything a grandfather would like in a suitor. Almost. He has but one disability, but it is a very large one. A very large one from my point of view.”

 She sighed. “I know what you mean. It is a large one, isn’t it? I am dithering whether to tell him his code was too much for me. It requires figuring out 26  square roots. But he is the only man who can come up with such fun codes. He is the only man who can move me. He is the only man I have ever met that excites me. I feel if I turn him down, I will die an old maid and he would die a bitter old bachelor.”

 The baron sat and stared into space. “It is more of a momentous decision than it is for most girls. How about waiting for a while? A year?” 

She snorted. “At least it isn’t seven years like Latham made Issac wait for Rebecca. I am of an age. I won’t wait a day over six months if I agree.”

 “If you agree.”

 “I haven’t made up my mind. For him I would grab a special license and drag him to the altar in a heartbeat. But his disability... You know, if it were a wooden leg or a missing eye, I wouldn’t stop even then. But this would be too much.” 

“Is he waiting for a reply?” 

She looked at the note. “I think it would be a week before I untangled this. So no, not immediately.”

 “So, he is deliberately giving you the time to think it over rationally. All the more reasons to love the man. I just don’t like it, but I can’t in all conscience tell him no.” 

Beatrice stood up and hugged him. “You are the best grandpa! I will work this out and think it through. I won’t think it rationally though.” She waved her finger at him. “I honestly can’t say I am all rational when I think of him” Her face turned bright red. “I will be thinking things over. I love you and I will respect your opinion. But right now, I may disobey.” She kissed him again and got up to leave. 

“Where is your sister?” She looked to the heavens “St Elizabeth’s as always. That girl is looking forward to heartbreak” He nodded and put his latest letter under the blotter and shook his head. He went to the hall and told the footman waiting in the hallway “Tell Johnson and Perkins I am going out, and to wait for me in front.” He walked to the hat stand and put on his coat and picked up his cane, opened it up to check the sword and put it back with a click, put his secret under his hat and put it on and looked at himself in the mirror. “You are an ancient fool, an imbecile, a monster. You deserve opprobrium and ridicule. ” He looked out the window and saw Johnson and Perkins waiting for him. He sighed. “She is so lovely. I am going to be so jealous when this Kate meets her Benedict” He walked briskly westward till he got to a pokey bookstore and walked in. He looked around and looked at the proprietor. 

The proprietor said, “In back. A new one, in five volumes, a guinea.”

He got out his purse and paid the proprietor. He walked toward the back and as he walked under the balcony a musical voice called out “Up here, Methuselah!” He looked up and he saw Lady Francis gesturing with her finger to come up. He climbed the stairs and saw her and her maid sitting on a pair of uncomfortable stools. She looked down her nose at him with mock seriousness said, “I don’t approve of being stared at by old men.” He began to go down and she stopped him “Where are you going? I have a lot of questions for you!”

 “I thought...”

 She smiled. “For Sir Galahad, all things can be forgiven.” 

He nervously sat down. “I didn’t mean to...”

 “I have to admit it is sick, and kind of sweet. I figured it out a long time ago and I began reading very expensive books to cost you more money.” 

He gave a rueful laugh. “I was wondering if you had been doing that. I am so embarrassed to be watching you.”

 “As you should be!”

 “As I should be.”

 She sat up and held up a finger. “First question: were you ever in Spain?” she raised a second finger “Second question, do you know how to pronounce the name of this book? It has been driving me wild.” He looked at the binding. “I was in Spain for three years until I was invalided out. And the name of this is Don Kay ho Te”

 “Thank you! All those incongruent x’s and q’s. I can read more comfortably.” 

He leaned back. “My question for you is how can you read so fast! You were going through books reading five pages to each of mine”

She put on a mock serious expression “You were spending most of your time watching me rather than reading.” 

He looked abashed. “I admit I was going kind of slow, but you were going so very quickly!” 

She opened the book again “I don’t know how come I can read so quickly. I just can. You are going to stop buying me books so I got the thickest book I could find.” 

“I don’t know if I can do that.” 

She sat pensively. “I don’t mind if you watch me anymore. As long as you sit quietly.” He nodded and moved his stool back, and took a slim volume from his pocket and tried to read it as she read the volume of Don Quixote very quickly. After an hour she asked, “Is it four o’clock yet?”

 “A quarter to.” She closed the book regretfully. “My father might start asking questions.” She got up and headed down the stairs. He followed with a sad pace.

 He tapped on her shoulder, “Have you seen a demonstration at the Royal Institute  yet?” 

She shook her head. “They don’t allow unaccompanied females, especially young ones, to attend” 

“Would you like to attend.”

 She smiled “I would very much like to see one.” 

“Would you allow me to take you to one tomorrow?” She stood on the stair and looked around and took his head and bowed it and then kissed the top of it. “I would be delighted.” She trotted down the stairs. “Where should we meet?” 

“We could meet here at 10:00.” She nodded, put the book back on the shelf, blew him a kiss and was gone. Her maid ran down the stairs in order to keep up. 

He looked at the door for a long while and walked home. “I am such a fool.” he thought. “I not doing what is required of me, but what is forbidden.” He stopped at St Elizabeth’s and checked to see if Cordellia was there. She had gone home already. He sat in a pew in the back of the church and wished she could find someone else. Finally, he got up and went to the parish workhouse where Reverend Harkness was supervising the children putting their work away for the day and cleaning up in preparation for their simple suppers. He stood quietly at the back. When the children went off to their meal, he came up and shook hands with the curate. 

“I am glad to see you. I have something I need to discuss with you, afterwards, you may dine with us.”

 “What do you wish to discuss? I usually am on call here most of the evening.”

 “Your duties aren't onerous this time of day, and what I have to discuss is complicated. If you can go to balls, you can discuss things with me.” The baron looked at the threadbare smocks. “You usually sleep here in the workhouse?” 

“I have a cot, a wardrobe, some books. It is enough for me. Compared with what the children here have it is sybaritic luxury.” 

The baron waited for the reverend to get ready and they walked quietly with the Barrons bodyguards behind. "I do not love your brother or you because of what your brother did to Cordellia." 

Reverend Harkness put his hands up. "I do not appreciate what John did to her. If I had it in my power to marry her I would do it tomorrow, but you can see how I am living."

 "Your brother has not given you any preference?"

 Reverend Harkness gave a twisted smile. "I told him what I thought of him. I did not stint in my opinion of him. He no longer talks to me."

 "Do you write your own sermons?" 

Reverend Harkness sighed. "Only when obliged to. I don't like it when my parishioners fall asleep on me, which they invariably do when I give my own sermons." He was silent for a bit. "Of course, I hope they like me for the other pastoral duties. Which Cordellia assists with. I am most appreciative." 

The Baron stopped walking for a moment. "You said you would marry her if you had enough money. How much is that?"

 "If she would have me, which you would not permit, and rightly so, I could muddle along with 75 pounds a year. I have learned to make do on very little money. Being curate here has taught me a lot about making do." 

The Baron continued. "Do you think that is fair to her to live on so little?" 

Reverend Harkness ruefully shook his head. "Of course not! But I still would fantasize about making the sacrifices necessary. And I think she would too! But part of the job of being her grandfather is to prevent that. If some curate came and asked my daughter, if I ever had one, to marry on 75 pounds a year I would horsewhip him!" They both laughed. They reached the front steps of the baron's townhouse and began climbing the steps. 

The Baron turned. "Would you get out your horsewhip if he offered with an income of 250 pounds?" 

Reverend Harkness said very slowly "I would give my daughter a severe talking to, giving all the reasons against this foolishness, but I would let her against my better judgment."

 The baron nodded. "Let's see what the woman says. This may be entirely academic." He turned to the bodyguards "Thank you, gentlemen. I will need you tomorrow at 9:15" Good evening, Watson." 

Watson, the butler, told him that Richardson, the lawyer, was waiting in the drawing room. 

“Very good, tell him to wait a bit longer, I need Cordellia to meet me in the library." He then led Harkness to proceed with him in the library. When she entered the baron was pouring brandy into three glasses. He passed out the brandy “Ah, Cordellia, I have some distressing news. Reverend Keynes has died. I need to replace him in the four livings he had. In three of them I will just give the livings to the curates. I don't believe in multiple benefices. In Saint Owen's I have decided to give it to Reverend Harkness." Cordellia moved close to Harkness and held his hand. "The living is worth 150 pounds a year. In addition, he will get the position of rector for all four of them. That is worth 100 pounds. And of course, there is also the income from the glebe lands for St Owen's, I have no idea how much that is worth." He paused and looked at Reverend Harkness, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and said, "Yes! I want to marry you tonight!" The baron coughed. "None of that young lady! You do realize that is an extremely small income. Your dowry is 4,000 pounds in the 4%s. But it is in trust until your parents come back from St Petersburg. You will have to live on short commons." 

She rounded on him. "I don't care! Not after what his brother did to me. I don't like living in this environment anymore." 

The baron continued. "He has expenses. He will be charge of the parish poor, and he will also be in charge of the highways, which will be a tremendous drain. Think very clearly about what you are setting yourself up for."

 She pushed the reverend into a chair and sat in his lap. "I don't care. I will have him and enough to get by." 

The Barron grabbed her arm and pushed her out the door. "Decorum young lady! Send Richardson in, we need to protect your interests. Tell Mrs. Wisdom that we will have one more for supper. Also, we will need to discuss your wedding plans, so tell her to make up a bed on the second floor. Reverend Harkness will need to sleep over."

 "Oh, will he now!" She smiled. "I will check to make sure his bed is very comfortable tonight." She winked at Reverend Harkness and smiled as she left. The baron didn't notice as he was arranging papers on the desk.

 "A Richardson! Have a seat at the desk. I will move over by the fire. I will need you to make up the marriage agreement between Reverend Harkness and my Granddaughter Cordellia. I'm afraid it will be relatively simple. Their estate will be relatively small. I just need to make sure she gets her pin money and some other incidentals. Mr. Harkness doesn't have a lawyer, unfortunately. So, he will be at your mercy." 

Richardson leaned back in his chair. “What is his income?” The Barron looked through some papers on his lap. “Tithes from St Owens amount to 167 pounds, from his position as rector will be 104 pounds, his income from the glebe lands will amount to between 65 pounds in a good year, as low as 45 pounds in a bad one.” He looked up. “I told her that is the extent of his income. The other three livings will go to the other curates. I don’t approve of multiple benefices. That did not deter her in the slightest.” He shuffled the papers some more. “Her dowry will consist of 4,000 from her mother's estate in trust. It is in the 4% and that will be her pin money. She has never spent all her pin money; I think she has something like 200 pounds she hasn’t spent which go to her as an upfront to go to her as pin money. In addition, she will get an additional 3,000 in the 5%s. This will be tied up in trusts as well.” Richardson looked over his spectacles. “She will have an income substantially more than her husband.”

 “She is foolish to love him. I wish to tie up her funds as much as I can. The 3,000 from me will pay its first interest when they marry, then be payable every March. The 200 will also be payable when they marry.” Richardson was busily writing down the particulars. “The dowry will be divided among her daughters when they marry?”

 “Just so. If she has no daughters, the funds will be divided among her sons when she dies.” 

Reverend Harkness piped up. “What about the children at St Elizabeth’s” 

The Barron glared at him. “The pin money is hers to do what she will. You have no say in it. If she takes one, a dozen or none is up to her. I will be instructing her in the charges she will be taking on. I would prefer her to take none. But she will make up her mind on her own. They are expensive.”

Richardson briefly looked over his notes “I will make up a draft of the agreement by next week and send you each a copy. There will be some standard protections for the wife in a case of this sort. Do you have anything to add?” Both the Baron and the reverend shook their heads. “Very well then. I wish you every felicity reverend Harkness. Goodnight to you both. 

They watched him leave. Reverend Harkness looked in his empty brady glass. “You don’t trust me, do you?

 The baron poured each of them a large glass. “You are a good sort of young man. But my granddaughter needs protecting. She needs protection from your virtues as much as other women need protection from a husband’s vices. I know you want to rescue some of the children in your charge. I am not going to have her become impoverished because of that. I admit that becoming impoverished because of overindulgence in sensibility is on some level better than going broke playing piquet, but my granddaughter will be safe from both kinds of folly. Shall we join them?” 

They entered the drawing room as Beatrice was saying “...and your bridesmaids will carry bouquets of dandelions!” as Cordellia was laughing as the tears came down her cheeks. Reverend Harkness sat down on the divan next to Cordellia and hugged her. Beatrice turned to the Barron. “Why didn’t you tell us about the vicarage opening up?”

 The Barron stood before the fireplace. “I honestly didn’t want to give it to him. I had to have a long session in St Elisabeth’s before I could agree to it. I had reservations.”

 “It does you credit that you want the best for her” Reverend Harkness kissed Cordellia. “I admire that you consult her happiness and interests.” Watson came in and announced that dinner would be served, and the conversation became general. 

The next morning at 10:00 Barron Whipsnead drew up in front of the bookstore. He got down and entered it with the bodyguard close behind. When he entered, he saw Lady Francis looking out the window nervously. 

“Would you object to loaning me your cloak, my lord? There is someone outside that I don’t want to see me.” 

The Barron checked the view from the window and took off his cloak. He signaled to his bodyguard to do the same and give his cloak to the maid standing behind lady Francis. The Barron put his cloak on Lady Francis and patted the cloak so that it fit better. “There you are my dear. Who is he?”

 She shook her head. “I don’t know for sure, but I think he is one of Dentry’s men. He was extraordinarily familiar.” She looked at the Barron. “I don’t know why Dentry has become so interested in me lately.”

 “Your mother’s dowry was 50,000 and comes to you as the only daughter. Plus, your father’s estate is entailed, but the entail ends with your father. You are a very rich prize.” She gave him a calculated glare and marched out to his carriage. 

The Barron looked to the bookseller and held up a guinea. “I will give you to be silent, and two more if no one follows us.” He tossed the coin and followed her out the door and the bodyguard followed silently afterward. He got in his carriage and sat across her in the rear facing seat. She had taken off the cloak and passed it to him. His bodyguard signaled to her maid that she should sit next to her in the front facing seat. 

Lady Francis looked at the bodyguard sourly. “Do you need a chaperone?” 

The Barron smiled briefly. “Something like that. My virtue is safe from you. But there are other dangers.”

 She glanced at the beefy bodyguard “What dangers?”

 “My Heir. Two people have died in mysterious circumstances between him and me. I know he killed them; I just can’t prove it. Which is why I am so anxious to marry and have a son. He shouldn’t get a penny from me if I can help it.”

 “So, I am to be your brood mare?” Her voice became shrill

 “You, no.” He looked sad. “You are too young. My granddaughters, who are both a great deal older than you, wouldn’t forgive me. But I do enjoy your company.” 

“They were nice.” She remembered them from the ball.

 “They both have come to me with unacceptable fiancés. I told Beatrice to wait six months before making up her mind, but I spent a long time yesterday with the solicitor over Cordellia’s dowry. She is going to get married in a month.” 

“What is wrong with Beatrice’s intended?” 

“He is Mr. DeSilva.” “

“Oh!” She grinned. “He is a nice man though. I understand your frustration, but I like him.” 

“He is everything I want in a husband for my granddaughter, except...” He stared out the window unseeing at the traffic.

“Yes, everything but that.”  She thought for a moment  “He is handsome. But he has unusual conversation.” She looked pensive. "What is wrong with Cordellia’s intended?” 

“He is a vicar with a living worth 250 a year, plus what he gets from his glebe lands.” He suddenly looked very old. “I gave him the living. I wanted him to give up on her. Or her to decide that that was too paltry. But I had my solicitor come by to discuss her prenuptial agreement. I wasn’t prepared for her response.”

 Lady Francis dissolved into laughter. “You have been an adult for a very long time, and you don’t understand women yet.” 

“You are right, I don’t.” The carriage stopped and the bodyguard hopped out first, followed by the Barron, lady Francis and the maid. The Barron looked put her arm in his and admired the building. “I have never been to one of these demonstrations.”

 Lady Francis took her arm free and skipped up the stairs. “Well then, we are both in for a treat!” She whirled and danced while he phlegmatically climbed the stairs. When he reached the top, he went inside while she settled in a demure way beside him without touching. He bought tickets for the four of them and purchased two programs. They were early and Lady Francis sat in the first row with her maid beside her. The Barron sat beside the maid, and his bodyguard sat behind him. Lady Francis looked annoyed at the program. “I thought they would have new things, but these experiments are old. I already know that electricity can go from person to person!”

 “That is just the first half.” The Barron looked at the stage. "The second part of the program seems to have lots of people here.” 

She looked cross. “What is the meaning of an electromagnetic engine?”

 "You know more about electricity than I do.” He looked around the theater. “It is a large audience 

A man with flowing locks entered the theater from a door in the back. He introduced himself and began the lecture, which was on electricity moving from one place to another. The Barron watched Lady Francis who was taking notes on a small booklet. The presenter talked for ten minutes, and then called for a volunteer. Lady Francis raised her hand immediately. No one else did. The presenter had Lady Francis come up and asked to remove her hair pins and let her hair down. Lady Francis called her maid up and talked to her briefly and handed her the hair pins. Meanwhile the presenter poured some gin into a bowl and called a pair of beefy assistants to stand near a set of wheels with handles to move the wheels as fast as they could go. The presenter explained the principles of static electricity. He handed Lady Francis a wire attached to the wheels and the assistants cranked the wheels faster and faster and Lady Francis’ hair began to rise up around her head. After a minute the presenter nodded to Lady Francis, and she very slowly moved her hand over the bowl of gin. When her hand moved over the bowl, she emitted a yelp as the gin caught fire. There was general laughter, as the presenter noted that her hair was back to being down her back. The presenter thanked Lady Fracis who skipped next to the baron. “That was fun, but it hurt a little.” She put her hand over his. “This has been a wonderful day. Thank you very much”

 He looked at her with concern. “Do you want to go if it hurt?” 

She smiled. “Of course not! But it did feel very strange.” She leaned up closer. “By the way, Your Granddaughter Beatrice is here with Mr. DeSilva. She looked at me very angrily. Why doesn't she like me?”

 The Barron sighed. “She likes you very much! You are very intelligent. She thinks I am romancing you preceptory to marriage. And she disapproves." 

She laughed out loud. “Never! You are very sweet, but I am afraid that would never ever do. You aren’t offended, I hope. But that is just ridiculous.”

 “Of course, it is ridiculous.” He said it with a sad expression, and she stopped laughing.

 “What are they preparing up there?” She looked at him, smiled, and put her arm with his. “It looks complicated. “ 

The presenter began.  He started with two iron bowls, and a tall wood stand with a copper crosspiece. A spring held a long piece of copper into one of the bowls which tapped a small bar magnet. The presenter talked for a while about how the lines of magnetic force followed the length of the copper. Then he turned the battery on, and the copper wire began going around the magnet in the bowl. The whole audience cheered. The Barron marveled at Lady Francis, who furiously took notes and made a drawing in her notebook. He shook his head. He turned his head and felt a shock. 

He leaned over Lady Francis. “When the demonstration is over, go to the opposite side of the hall and then go to Mr. DeSilva. Tell Beatrice my heir is here and go with them. Don’t ask questions, please.”

 She looked at him and saw his worried expression then turned around and looked to the presenter and busily paid attention to her notes. She talked briefly with her maid, who nodded. When the presenter finished, she quietly headed toward Beatrice. 

The Barron stood up and moved to his heir, who was trying to move to where Lady Francis was becoming lost in the crowd. When the Barron reached his heir, he tapped him on the shoulder and said, “I am surprised to see you here!” He moved and pulled his shoulder so that the heir’s back was to the auditorium. The Heir greeted him with a smile so oily he was tempted to wipe his hands on his handkerchief. 

“This is not a place I would expect to see you either. Tell me, who was the lightskirt I saw you with?” The Barron ground his teeth. “I was not with a light skirt. I was not with anyone”

 “Ha! A young doxy just happened to put your arm in yours?” He tried to turn his back, but the Barron prevented him. “Your whores are just out of the cradle now.”

 “If you don’t want to lose all your remittance, I suggest you apologize. You have lost a third of it. You realize I am not going to take you out of the fleet next time.” 

The Heir made a deep bow. “I am sorry to have inadvertently wounded you.”

 “Sarcasm is not an adequate apology. You won't get a farthing from me this quarter.” The Barron made to move off. The Heir detained him. 

“You realize your granddaughter is keeping company with a shylock?”

 “I deplore it, but she is over the age I can restrain her. But he is a sober young man who will not impoverish her...”

 “Of course not, he is a stinking Jew!”

 “...or embarrass her with other women”

 The Heir looked incredulous. “You are going to let him have her!” 

The Barron looked exasperated. “Of course not! I put up all the obstacles I can, but she is of age, and I can’t legally prevent her. She is a shrewish blue stocking. He is the only man who is willing to put up with her.” 

“I can tame the shrew!” 

The Barron shivered. “No! There is not a man from the wilds of Ireland’s west coast to the eastern shore of Cathay who is worse for her than you! She would be happier in the seraglio of Istanbul than with you. Leave her alone. Or I will have you put in the Fleet myself.” 

With that he went up the stairs and left the now empty auditorium and went outside to the stairs. He saw DeSilva’s and his own carriage waiting. DeSilva was standing next to the carriage door. He walked the stairs like a 5-year-old knowing he was going to get chastised for putting frog spawn in his tutor’s shoes. He greeted Beatrice warmly. Despite her anger at him he was still proud of her. “I should have known that you would be here for this. Did you have an enjoyable time?” 

Lady Francis felt pity for him and spoke up first. “Oh Yes! Making the spark that lit the gin was amazing! And the second half was wonderful too! Someday soon electricity will be useful for something. And the proved that electricity goes along the wire and makes magnetic field that follows the wire! It was so amazing!”

 Beatrice Gave her an angry look. “Be that as it may, you were seen in the company of this little girl who is younger than Cordellia. It does not look good!” 

Lady Francis pouted “I am not so little” 

“Yes, you are.” She gave her father another look. “Mr. DeSilva and I have another appointment, after which we will take her home. And you and I need to talk.” Mr. DeSilva apologetically got into the carriage between the maids, raped on the ceiling and they were off. The Barron watched Mr. DeSilva’s carriage for as long as it was visible and got into his carriage. 

The tiger climbed up and said, “You really shouldn’t allow them so much freedom.” 

He sighed. “They aren’t wrong.” He nodded and the carriage headed off to his mansion. As he sat in the carriage, he silently stewed over his heir, The nasty, horrible, troublesome heir. He got angrier and angrier until he got home. When he reached it, he hopped out of the carriage and raced up the steps. When he got inside, he saw Timson standing at attention. Good. He nodded to him. “Change and meet me in the attic. We have to do some exercise.” He raced to his bedroom taking his clothes off as he ran. He threw his good clothes off and put on his fencing uniform. His Valet came in when he was halfway dressed and finished making it snug. He growled at his valet “Assist Timson. I want him upstairs as soon as possible.” The Valet nodded and took he took the servant stairs up to the attics. He raced up the stairs to the training room. The high windows on the south side of the house would provide light for at least an hour. But he would probably be here longer than that. He lit the rushlights on the north wall just to provide extra light for the cavernous room. He eyed the stack of oak blocks with disfavor. It was never a good idea to sword-fight in his currant mood. He picked up the axe and began chopping them into kindling. He worked steadily until his mood shifted. Timon came up the stairs and stood silently, the perfect footman. The Barron grabbed a pair of epees and tossed one to Timson and with a rueful smile said “Let us begin” Timson looked at how much oak kindling the Barron had made. “You met the heir?” 

He moved to his mark on the floor. The Barron stood on his mark and saluted. “Please don’t ask, I would need to chop some more wood.”

 Timson got into position. “I am feeling lazy. Better that you make kindling than me” The Barron laughed at Timson’s cheekiness and lunged, and they began their sword drill. They went back and forth for five minutes until Timson scored a point. 

Timson pointed his epee downward. “You had better wait a minute. You were chopping a lot of wood. You need a breather. You let your guard down too much. You will get into bad habits if you continue”

 The Barron frowned. “There is much in what you say, but I need to burn off my mood.” Stimson signaled they should pace for a bit. 

“It wasn’t just the heir?”

 “Beatrice was walking out with DeSilva. I admire the man. But I am  not having my granddaughter marrying a Jew.” 

Timson gave a nervous look. After a few moments the Barron continued. “She knows her own mind. I may have to face the inevitable. I am not the kind of monster who would force his granddaughter to marry who she hates to build up his own consequence.” He returned to his mark and waited for Timson to return to his. “So you see why I need so much exercise today.”

 They saluted and began again. A while later Timson scored another point. “Much better my lord. You were fencing with your mind again.”

 The Barron smiled. “I will have to find your tell when you are going to do that maneuver again. You always get my guard in the wrong place.”

 “I make a trivial ‘mistake’ and you get cocky and make your stance too wide. You let yourself open to a trap when you do that.”

 The Barron laughed at himself. “The curse of the aristocrat! I will have to listen to Beatrice for an hour to get me into a humbler state of mind.” He stood on the mark. “I think I ca do this one more time. Timson nodded and saluted, and they began again. Timson recognized that the Barron was slowing down but wanted to continue. As they fought, he was distracted. First Beatrice, and Mr. DeSilva, followed by Cordellia and Reverend Harkness. Finally, Lady Francis came in, looking simultaneously appalled and fascinated. Timson had heard of the Barrons infatuation by a very young girl. He knew his job would be in jeopardy if he won this round. He fought with a frightened intensity until he saw a perfect opportunity to lose without damaging the Barron’s self-respect. The Barron’s epee scored directly on his chest, and they put down their swords. The Barron was startled to hear Lady Francis’s applause. He turned and saw his audience. Beatrice was the first to speak. 

“What is the story about all this kindling?”

 “The Heir offered for you again. He saw you with Mr. DeSilva. I told him that he was the last person I would permit to court you, Mr. DeSilva would be infinitely preferable to him. Not that I have warmed up to the idea of the two of you, mind.” 

She stamped her foot. “Aaron is acceptable to me! The only person who needs to worry about that is me! No one else!” 

The Barron looked at her sourly. “We will discuss this later. Why is everyone up here?” Mr. DeSilva said “Miss Cordellia explained to me about Her Fiancée's desire to take some of the children in the parish workhouse with him to his new posting, and you're not wanting to facilitate that. It is an expensive proposition. I thought I would help if I could see the children he wished to take.”

 The Barron gave him a steely stare. "That is remarkably generous of you.” He realized that DeSilva was full of tightly controlled fury. DeSilva Inhaled and held his breath for a moment. “The children are extremely skinny and wear two changes of dingy clothing according to Harkness. The Beadle and the vicar are exceedingly fat and wear very fine cloth. The Beadles and the vicar's quarters are uncomfortably hot. The dormitories of the children aren’t heated.”