14. A visit to a wine merchant

The evening before, I had spoken with Mr Dives, about local Justices of the Peace, so picking an invitation out of the pile, I set off with Caroline in the brougham. Charlotte and Hermione were changed to the family's landau instead.

We chatted quite happily about almost anything other than the ball, though Caroline queried some of her ideas with me. I listened but earned her annoyance by throwing the decisions back into her lap.

"I would be quite happy to decide some of these issues," I told her, "But I really want you to be in charge of all of this, and for you to decide."

"But what if I spoil it all for you?" She asked, plaintively.

"You are doing very well so far. You have good people working under you, trust them. Tell them what it is that you want them to do and leave them to do it. I am sure it will all be quite superb." I took her hand, in her pale calf-skin gloves, "I have the greatest confidence in your choices, Caroline. Now tell me what you know about this Justice of the Peace?"

Sir Arthur Walker, had been a justice and magistrate in Buckingham for about twenty years, Caroline remembered him as a serious man, but not unkindly. When I explained my mission that morning, she thought he would be a useful ally.

French general officers, or at least those that I have seen, are the most gloriously attired creatures in military history, with leopard-skin shabraque saddle cloths on their fine horses, nodding white plumes in their hats, aguilettes of gold cord on their shoulders, barrel-sashes, ribbons, golden stars and epaulettes dripping with braid made with 22-carat bullion wire thread. All of that gaudy finery serves one very good purpose - it signals to all and sundry that this person is very, very important.

I could never engage in such gaudy pomp; it is entirely against my nature. In this case, however, Hopley the coachman and two footmen (Henry and another), all in their livery coats, the brougham (with the Rogeringham coat of arms on the doors) drawn by our four matched bay horses, myself and my sister appearing at the home of Sir Arthur Walker sent a very important message - that His Grace, the 6th Duke of Norton, and his sister, Lady Caroline Rogeringham, had arrived.

Sir Arthur was most happy to receive his invitation, he and his wife, Lady Mary, a slim, handsome woman, would be most happy to attend, he said. But surely, he wondered, that couldn't be the only reason we had travelled out that morning.

We talked for a few minutes, and I realised we had met several times at Rogeringham Hall, though I had still been a child at the time.

"Perhaps there is something you could help me with ..." I began.

The wine merchant's shop was just on Market Hill, in Buckingham town, almost opposite the Gaol. One of the constables that accompanied Sir Arthur, opened the door for us.

As the shop bell rang, and Charles Farley, a thin, pinched-faced man appeared.

"Good morning, Sir Arthur, sir, miss, how may we be of service?"

"Good morning," I greeted him, "Perhaps you can assist me? Some cases of port were recently purchased from you and I wondered if you have any more?"

"Do you have the details sir?"

I placed a note of what was in the cellar in front of him, paying particular attention to his face.

As it was, I would have been convinced that everything was normal but for the fact that he licked his thin lips three times in quick succession, when he read what I had set before him.

He consulted a large ledger on the counter, "These were delivered to ... er ... Rogeringham Hall?"

"Yes, they were." I said, "Though I'm not sure when."

The man quoted a date about ten weeks previously, about a week after my father died.

"Very good, I wonder, do you have the name of the person who placed the original order?"

"It was the duke himself, sir, the order came from him." He showed me the entry in the ledger Sir Henry Rogeringham, D. of Norton.

"On this date?"

"Yes sir."

"And how was the order placed?"

The man removed a note from the ledger, "The duke himself, sir. Standing there, just like yourself, sir."

"I would have been interested to see that. You see, he died a week before that date."

At this point Sir Arthur asked to see the ledger. "It does indeed say, Sir Henry Rogeringham, Sir William."

"Sir William?" The thin-faced man asked.

"Captain Sir William Rogeringham." Sir Arthur told him. "6th Duke of Norton." Farley's face went paler than it had been before.

"And you did not think to question this man, Mr Farley? After all the old duke's passing was the talk of the county." Sir Arthur asked holding the note in front of the wine-merchant' face. Farley shook his head rapidly, as if trying to shake something off his nose.

"What kind of man was this person?" Sir Arthur pressed him.

"Of about your height sir, and if I was to guess, the same age as Your Grace," he looked towards me. I felt Caroline gently push against my arm.

I looked at her, and saw concern and some annoyance in her eyes.

"Was this a pure purchase Mr Farley, or was the transaction a trade?"

"I'm not sure what you mean Your Grace."

"Did this counterfeit duke merely buy the items on that list or were they traded for other items already at Rogeringham?"

"It was purely a purchase, Your Grace." However, all of the time Farley's eyes were darting to the inner door, and his tongue flickered across his lips several times.

"Perhaps you would allow us to examine your warehouse?" Justice Walker 'suggested'.

Farley paused for a moment, as he weighed his options. He could have declined but I assume that he realised that Sir Arthur and I would be back with more men to search with more insistence.

The wine-merchant opened the inner door.

It was not that great an effort to search the warehouse. His stock was light, lighter than I would have expected given that we were close to the start of the Christmas season, and spread out in the space. I found the cases of port covered by a canvas, Caroline discovered the cases of madeira that we knew were missing and soon, Sir Arthur's constables and Farley's warehousemen had moved them so that we had an area of the ware-house floor filled with wines that matched the list I had copied from Roberts's cellar-book.

"I will be frank with you, Mr Farley; this does not look good sir. All of this has been identified as having been removed from Rogeringham Hall, substituted for items of lesser quality. What say you?" Sir Arthurs' tone was cool, but filled with threat.

"I ... I misspoke before!" The man stammered. "I for_ forgot that I took these items in part payment for the order placed by the duke."

"Oh! I am sure that you can do better than that, sir!" the Justice laughed. "A blind man could see the quality of this stock, and you say you sent better to Rogeringham Hall? Is that so Your Grace?"

"The deuce it is!" I snarled. "How much did you give the imposter as well?"

"I gave him the difference in the value!" Farley babbled. "He told me that he needed money ..."

"And you did not question why the duke himself would be coming round grubbing up money. Are you a fool? Or perhaps you were in league with him?"

All eyes turned to Caroline, upon her exclamation. It was easy to see that Farley was insulted to be spoken to in such a manner by a mere girl, though he was wise enough to hold his peace. Sir Arthur looked at her in surprise, but his smile showed that he was impressed. Myself? I thought that she hit the nail, squarely upon its head.

"Well?" Sir Arthur grabbed Farley by the shirt front.

"I swear I never saw the man before, Your Grace. But the chance to get my hands on such quality stock was too good to miss. It is the truth!"

"Is it really, Mr Farley? The truth? I doubt it sir, I very much doubt it." For a brief moment it looked like the wine-merchant would protest Sir Arthur's accusation, on weighing his chances though, he thought better of it.

"However, as His Grace, the duke, has his property back," Sir Arthur continued, "I think the first thing you can do, sir, is to bring all of this back to the cellar at Rogeringham Hall. And I think today would not be too early for that to happen."

Farley nodded enthusiastically. "M-m-may I offer the stock that is already there as a reparation for Your Grace's discomfiture?" He offered.

"Thank you very much Mr Farley. I will leave that up to my cellar man, if he thinks some of it is worth keeping, then we shall. Otherwise, we will send the rest back - in our own time." I told him.

"Mr Farley," Sir Arthur Walker began, "It is unfortunate for you to come to my attention in this way. Henceforth, you may want to consider how you conduct your business, and exercise a sight more caution."

"Yes sir," the visibly shaking wine-merchant said, "And please Your Grace, accept my profound apologies for your distress."

And with that we departed his shop.

Caroline and I mounted the brougham with Sir Arthur to drop him back at his house, but not before the justice had detailed one of his men to discreetly observe the shop.

It was Caroline's suggestion, if the wine-merchant reacted to our visit in some way it would be useful to know about it. Sir Arthur would advise me at home if anything transpired. He thanked me for allowing him to assist us, "Always useful when the rogues put their hands up and identify themselves." He told us. And so, we set off back to the hall.

In the brougham on the way home, Caroline once again took my hand, taking my glove off, and draping the cape of her coat over it, she caressed it gently.

"When you were just our 'brother', William, I fear we did not respect you enough. I don't think most of us realised how seriously you took your role as eldest."

"Think nothing of it," I told her. "We were children."

"No. I did not realise until today how suited you are to your role as duke. So masterful and so adroit at being both brother and lord." She drew my hand to her, pressing it to her own breast.

"That was nothing really," I told her, "A show of strength for that merchant."

"But you handled it so well, it certainly didn't look like you came into your role a few short weeks ago." She paused, obviously preparing what she was going to say. "What we talked of yesterday, what you offered?"

"Yes?"

"I would like to avail myself of your skills ... if I may?"

"Now?" We were only a few miles from Rogeringham Hall, ample time for many things, but perhaps not everything. In passing, I was also beginning to wonder about the choices my sisters were making about places that would be suitable for love-making. "I would prefer a more salubrious environment," I told my sister, as I extracted my hand from her lap and reaching around, drew her towards me. I kissed Caroline gently on the lips.

"Your first time should be special, memorable, not a hurried tumble in a carriage. It would be much better in a warm bed-room, in a bed that does not threaten to throw you to the floor with every bump in the road."

My hand slipped up and around, under the cape of her coat again. I was able to feel the swell of her breast, and gave it a gentle squeeze. I leaned in and followed up this gentle frottage with another kiss. Caroline was a surprisingly adept kisser, in that, where her mother had taken a little time to adapt to French kissing, Caroline took to it almost immediately. Half-twisting my body to hers we were soon engaged in a passionate duel of tongues, almost equal to any I have had before.

The horses slowing to a walk caused us to break and split apart but as we did, I saw a wicked gleam in my sister's eye that suggested she would be a fiery student when we convened our 'lessons' in a better setting.

When next I looked, she had returned to her usual calm demeanour.

As we dismounted at Rogeringham Hall, Barclay was waiting for me, he had a young man with him who was soaking wet. It appeared that he had ridden through the rain from Sir Arthur, beating us back to the Hall by cutting across country.

The constable had observed Farley leaving the shop, and followed him to a tavern where he thought he had seen the wine-merchant meet with a man who fitted the description of Dodgson, my steward. He had immediately reported it to Sir Arthur, who immediately sent word.

Barclay had organised the man a dry coat, a fresh horse and one for Henry and myself. We set off immediately.

It was getting dark by the time we arrived back in Buckingham and met Justice Walker at the tavern on Market Street.

Farley was denying everything, and as the constable had only glimpsed the man that he thought was Alfred Dodgson before he slipped out of a back door, there was little we could do about it. However, Sir Arthur thought that Farley probably deserved a night in the Gaol anyway so that was where he was sent.

It was too late on a filthy night by then, to return to Rogeringham, so I was invited to stay at Sir Arthur's house. Henry attended me.

We dined late, and I found Sir Arthur and Lady Mary to be excellent company. He was curious to hear about the Peninsular, and I about the state of the county. After all, I was now part of the machinery that governed Buckinghamshire. Sir Arthur was keen that I be proposed to become a Justice like him and he spent some time explaining the responsibilities of the role, until Mrs Walker reminded him that it had been a long day for everyone.

Sir Arthur and I ended the evening, with a particularly fine sherry and some excellent sobranie tobacco. We just sat and enjoyed the rich sherry and the flavoursome smoke.

Finally, Sir Arthur said, "In all of the excitement of the day, I totally forgot to ask Your Grace, to pass my regards to your mother. It must be a great comfort to her having you home."

At first, I wondered what was behind his comment, but decided that he was simply saying that my mother now had someone to lean on now that I was home.

"Ah! Thank you, Sir Arthur, but she has had my sisters supporting her," I mentioned.

"And if they are anything like Lady Caroline ..." he laughed, not finishing his comment. "I thought that man was going to explode when she called him a fool."

"If he had made a move, it would have been the last thing he ever did," I told him.

"And he would have deserved it too."

"What will happen to him?" I asked.

"I shall have him up before me tomorrow for a hearing, and if I do not hear what I want to hear, a month in gaol should be in order. What about you, what is your plan for your steward?"

"I think the first thing to do is to get him before me, after that we shall see."

The next day, our horses refreshed, Henry and I rode back to Rogeringham Hall.

I took time to converse with the young footman. Often, I find that the best way I can measure people is by considering where I would fit them into a 'notional' regiment. The army has been my way of life for so long, judging a man by where I would place him in said regiment is, to me anyway, a good way to make sense of things.

Henry, seemed a steady sort, a couple of years younger than me, though this seemed a little old for a footman, he seemed to enjoy his role. He has a good brain, he reads, and can write, though he admitted that he needs more practise. He is quick-witted, and I was quite happy that he would have made a very good sergeant, possibly rising to the highest level of a junior officer in the right regiment. On his suggestion we rode home by way of the house of Mr Dodgson, the steward.

I wasn't entirely certain what I intended to do at the steward's house. So far, I had no proof of any actual wrong doings, merely circumstantial evidence, but it was some days since Dodgson and I had last spoken and I prefer to look a man in the eye when discussing such matters.

Alfred Dodgson was not home, only his wife and their three girl children. Mrs Dodgson was a pretty woman but she had sad, tired eyes and she had a harried look about her. Her daughters were attentive to her and nervous of Henry and myself. The Dodgson house was clean and tidy, the children were as well, but their clothes were worn and I assumed had seen better days. I wondered at the condition of them all, as I knew that Dodgson was paid a good wage.

Her husband, she told me, was in Aylesbury, as far as she knew, and she did not know when he would be home. I told her that I would like to meet with him at the hall as soon as he returned, she told me that she would tell him. Mrs Dodgson was respectful, and offered me tea to drink, but I could not escape the feeling that she wanted us gone as soon as possible.

As we bade her farewell, I realised that Henry was offering me some shillings. For a moment I looked at them.

"For the children, Your Grace, you said ..."

Good man, I thought. I carry little in the way of coin, so I took the money from Henry as if it was my idea, and presented it to Mrs Dodgson.

For a moment her tired eyes lit up, "Thank you!" She said, "Thank you, Your Grace."

"No need to tell anyone else about this." I said, as I closed her fingers over the coins. "Some treats or something for your daughters."

And with that we mounted and turned our horses to leave.

"Your Grace?" the woman called from behind us. "Sometimes his business takes him away for a couple of days. I do not know when he will return, tomorrow or possibly the day after."

I turned my horse about, and thanked her. "Should you ever require anything, Mrs Dodgson, come and see me."

She nodded.

Henry and I left.