27. Having a ball ...

Barclay, in a nicely cut, black livery coat and gold brocade waistcoat, announced that it was a half hour past six o'clock, and that I was due to appear with Helena at a quarter before seven on the main staircase.

Helena was duly collected from her room and we made our way into the East Wing towards the top of the stairs there.

My mother looked stunning. She still wore black, as was fitting, but the black silk rustled as she walked, and it shimmered in the lights of the candelabra. Her dress had a fine silver trim and that complimented the silver jewellery that she wore, including some particularly fine diamonds, at her throat and in her earrings. To finish the look, she wore an understated but no less beautiful tiara. She was, after all, the widow of a duke and my father had provided her with some very expensive gifts.

My sisters waited just inside the upper floor of the East Wing, arrayed on either side of the hallway, Charlotte, Caroline and Hermione on one side, and Margaret and Louise on the other. Like their mother they wore mourning colours, though theirs were half-mourning - lilacs and greys. As we passed between them, they fell in behind us and at a quarter of an hour before seven, we appeared at the top the stairs.

"His Grace, Captain Sir William Rogeringham, 6th Duke of Norton!" Barclay announced in his booming voice as I made my way down the staircase and stopped on the lowest landing, where the stairs turned to the right before the last flight down to the floor of the entrance hall.

Below me the space between the foot of the staircase and the entrance doors was full of a glittering throng. Just looking down I could see Sir Arthur and his wife, the vicar and Mrs Locksley, looking beautiful in her new dress, Mrs Dodgson and numerous other notables, from all parts of the county. There were more than just a few young men, in fact it looked like a veritable herd of them.

"Her Grace, Lady Helena Rogeringham!" Helena took her place upon my right-hand side, upon the first step of the upper flight of stairs.

"Lady Charlotte Rogeringham!" Charlotte came down the stairs to stand on the next step up from her mother - the aim was that my mother and sisters would be arrayed in all of their glory, up the stair case on my right.

"Lady Caroline Rogeringham!" Caroline moved down to stand next to Charlotte, on the next step up on her right-hand side.

"Lady Louise Rogeringham! Lady Margaret Rogeringham!" I smiled inwardly, someone had obviously gotten to Barclay, normally Margaret was announced before Louise. The twins took their positions in order to the right of Caroline. We had discussed whether they should stand upon the same step, but they had elected to each stand upon separate ones.

"Lady Hermione Rogeringham!" Barclay was mindful to not say 'and finally', Hermione hates that, and she took her place upon the step on the right of Margaret.

All eyes were looking at us as we stood there, overlooking the hall then someone started to applaud. I looked at Helena and saw that she was looking at me, and her eyes were shining with delight.

I took Helena's hand and we led the way down the stairs towards the ballroom.

The ballroom was magnificent, Margaret and Louise - and their small army of workers, had excelled themselves. The saplings I had seen carried about, had been stripped of any remaining leaves and painted white, and they were placed in half casks, also painted white and covered in cloth. They had had silvered decorations hung in their branches and these shimmered and glittered as the air moved around them. White silk and other gauzier types of material had been draped around the room, and a banner with 'Rogeringham Hall - Grand Winter Ball' painted on it, had been hung at one end of the ball room. Some small statues were placed around the room which, along with the statuary that was normally in the ballroom, had been decorated with evergreens - holly and ivy strands and the leaves of these had also been painted to look as if they were frosted.

Once we, the family, had entered and formed the receiving line, then the guests would be announced and we would formally greet them.

I find this to be the most tedious part of a ball. It is bearable when waiting to be introduced but actually being in the receiving line - I would rather face a French column. Alone. But at this function, of all functions, receiving was something that had to be done, and I was going to have to get used to it.

Barclay would announce the guests, "Sir Arthur and Lady Hastings!" or "Deputy-High Sheriff of Buckinghamshire, Sir John Fitzherbert, and Lady Fitzherbert!" as two examples.

They would first greet my mother, as was proper, because Helena was the hostess. After her, I would greet them and then they would proceed down the line, until they reached Hermione.

"Mr William and Eugenie Barthomley, and Mr James Barthomley."

The elder Barthomley was a solid-looking little man, whose eyes darted around almost continuously. My impression was that he was evaluating everything, myself included. The young man's mother was very pretty and very fashionably dressed and unlike some women who take the latest fashions, it suited her well. She wore her hair done up in a bun, which unlike the current trend in coiffeurs, was drawn quite tightly, emphasising the shape of her head. It made her appear to be quite severe and detracted from her face, which as I have said was pretty.

I noticed that when he actually appeared before me, Hermione's young man looked like he would rather be anywhere else, but when he stood in front of my sister his eyes lit up and if his face was anything to go by, he and she were the only two people in the room.

But then I heard Barclay announce "Sir Montague Fellowes!"

It was a name I did not recognise, I looked at Charlotte, who gave the tiniest shake of her head, as if to say that she did not recognise the name either.

"Thank you for your invitation, Lady Norton," he said.

"Your Grace," he acknowledged me, making a sketchy bow.

He was a slick kind of chap, immaculately dressed, with not a hair out of place, handsome but not a likable sort of face. In fact, I took an instant dislike to him. Something about the man was most disconcerting. Fortunately, the press of people entering, meant that he was whipped away almost immediately.

Emily Dodgson followed a few guests later, and I thought that she looked out of sorts. She and Charlotte - whom she resembled in physique - had coordinated to present her tonight, in black silk as she too was in mourning. I could not fault her appearance, she looked quite stunning, but her face was shadowed by something that was troubling her.

"Elizabeth, Lady Dorrington and the Honourable Arabella Dorrington!" I felt Charlotte nudge me in the ribs.

Elizabeth Dorrington walked into the ball room as she did everywhere, as if she owned it, with Arabella next to her. Both women drew the eyes of everyone as they entered the room. Helena looked at me, a curious question on her face, then turned back as she accepted Elizabeth's curtsey and grateful thanks for the invitation. I might be biased, but as handsome as Elizabeth Dorrington is, and she is accounted a great beauty, Helena is by far the more attractive of the two. Elizabeth has a slightly predatory look about her.

Still her curtsey and her simple "Your Grace" seemed genuine and warm, certainly her smile was.

Arabella, on the other hand fawned over Helena and her curtsey to me was overly low, needlessly so, her greeting was breathy and full of promise. It was obvious what she was offering, but to be frank, I wasn't inclined to buy. Arabella is a lovely young woman, with an amorous nature and a very good body to match it, but sadly I have moved beyond her. However, I found that I still had affection for her and her mother, so I was very glad to see both of them.

Receiving like this went on for a few more minutes until Barclay announced that it was time for gentlemen with dances - those who had already arranged them - to take their partners as the orchestra were about to begin. There was a tide of people moving towards the dance floor as those who had not pre-arranged, began to ask and couples formed for the first of the dances.

For myself, I have never been a dancer, preferring other pass-times, so Helena and I began to circulate amongst the guests, meeting them and greeting them without the constraining nature of the receiving line.

Some years later Sir Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington as he was by then, described the battle of Waterloo in much the same way as one would describe a ball. One person cannot be everywhere or see everything, so that it would be impossible to describe everything that happens there. That Grand Winter Ball at Rogeringham Hall was neither as brutal nor as decisive as Waterloo, but it was an interesting event to be certain. I use the term 'interesting' in the Chinese interesting times sense.

Several times I noted the Fellowes chap in conversation with others. Nothing unusual, I hear you say, after all it is a ball, a social occasion. However, these conversations appeared serious, often furtive, with much looking about to see who was listening. Once, when we happened to pass closely, the two parties - Fellowes and a local gentleman who dabbled in various manufacturing processes, split apart and attempted to look as if they had not been speaking together.

Abruptly Elizabeth Dorrington appeared in front of us. After the usual, rather formal (for Elizabeth Dorrington), pleasantries, Elizabeth said, quite quietly, "If I may, Your Grace, I am surprised to see Sir Montague here."

"Really?" I asked. "To be truthful, I am not entirely sure who he is or how he even secured an invitation."

Elizabeth leaned in towards me and covering her lower face with her fan, as if making a risqué jest, said, "The man is bad news, avaricious, grasping and unscrupulous." Then she tapped me with her fan and we both laughed.

As we progressed onwards, I looked at Helena but could not read her face, "What did that lady say?" She asked.

"She was telling me something about one of our guests," I told her, "It was very interesting."

James's father and mother were next, Mr Barthomley senior waxing lyrical about the ball and the 'wonderful opportunity' he had just been offered.

I congratulated him on his good fortune and asked him what it was that was so exciting.

"Why? The canal trunk, Your Grace! The amount of trade it will carry to and from London, any investment will be returned several times. It is certainly something you should consider."

"I shall," I told him, "I will give it some consideration." By now my curiosity was thoroughly piqued. Helena, who had not left my side, sensed that something was amiss.

"I'm not sure," I told her when she asked what bothered me.

"Sir Montague," I indicated over my right shoulder, "Is doing business."

"And?"

"I feel somehow, that it is connected with the title deeds that were stolen, and the death of Alfred Dodgson," I told her.

Just then Henry the footman appeared. "Mr Barclay has instructed me to tell Your Grace that he has something which requires your attention."

Helena and I slowly made our way through the crowd, towards the West Wing and my study, where we found Barclay waiting. With him was Emily Dodgson, who looked very dejected as she sat there, head bowed, with her hands clasped in her lap.

"Well?" I asked.

"Mrs Dodgson has some information Your Grace." Barclay said, his tone was not accusatory but rather gentle and sympathetic.

"Henry, please locate Mr Langton and ask him will he attend me? Discreetly, please Henry." I instructed him, though it was less for his instruction and more for Mrs Dodgson's peace of mind. The footman turned and went to find the lawyer.

"Emily?" I said, sitting down next to her. "I believe that there are things happening around us, that I need to understand. Does your information shed light upon them?"

She nodded.

"Tell me?" I asked her gently. I have spent a great deal of time with Mrs Dodgson recently, and come to know her better. I was not of the belief that her involvement was nefarious. It may not be totally innocent but she was involved, and I wanted to know in what way.

Mr Langton slipped into the study quietly as she started to speak.

It appeared that Mrs Dodgson was having difficulty forming words, her eyes were full of tears. Helena leaned in and comforted her.

"Please forgive me Your Grace..." she eventually started.

I was about to say that I would, if I knew what she had done wrong, when she started speaking in a rush of words.

"Your Grace, and you, Lady Helena, have been so kind, please, I beg your forgiveness? It was on my invitation that Sir Montague Fellowes attended, he instructed me to facilitate it, he thought it would be 'opportune'."

I nodded that she should go on.

"Alfred got himself in trouble, he owed money to some men, which I knew. What I was not aware of was that they told him that they'd write off his debts if he could be of service to Mr Fellowes.

"He came to the house several times, even during the time your father was alive, and they would talk. I was never aware of what it was about but Alfred started organising things. I think that was when he appropriated the three deeds.

"A few days ago, I received a message from Sir Montague explaining all of this and telling me to secure him an invitation, else he would reveal to people about Alfred and I. I would be ruined, he said, and that a bedlam hospital awaited us..."

"I wish you had come to me, Mrs Dodgson," I told her, "I promised to take care of you."

I outlined to Mr Langton what she had told me and Helena about Alfred and the way he had treated her.

"Mr Langton will act as your lawyer now, so he cannot speak about any of this unless you tell him that he may." She nodded tearfully.

"So, what does Sir Montague and the canal have to do with the Rogeringham estate?" I wondered aloud. "I mean obviously the man has been monitoring Mrs Dodgson, and her whereabouts, which is suspicious to begin with, but why? And what does it have to do with the Aylesbury properties?"

"I believe I can answer that, Your Grace." Mr Langton announced. "Mr Fellowes has invested heavily in the canal; he is one of the prime movers of the scheme."

Now this was interesting.

Langton went on, "The three farms that Alfred Dodgson appropriated are all on the proposed route for the new trunk. I believe, Your Grace, that Fellowes was going to purchase them from your steward - at a reduced rate, though it would still be ample reward for Mr Dodgson, as well as writing off any debts he had. Then Fellowes would make his return on the money by selling parts of each property - where the canal would actually run - to the canal company."

"The deuce you say!"

"As far as I can make out, Your Grace."

"At least we have a clear view of what is going on," I said. And it was true. This had been drifting just out of sight since that evening in Mayfair, when I first saw the estate books. That Alfred had been working for someone else, as well as me, came as no surprise, as previously observed, the idea was clever but badly executed. If he had just sold the titles as part of general management of the estate, he could still have made money on them, but he got greedy.

"Mr Langton, as ever your assistance is exemplary, please stay close at hand, your services may be called on again tonight. If any of it concerns Mrs Dodgson, send the bill to me.

"Emily!" I said, "Would you and my mother like to go and repair your appearance?"

"Your Grace?" She asked in surprise.

"You have done me another service tonight, unwittingly, and perhaps for the wrong reasons, but I am grateful." She looked at me in disbelief.

"I told you that I wanted to make things right for you. Swore it in fact. What kind of a man would I be if I went back on my word?"

Emily Dodgson sank to the floor in front me. "I don't deserve this, Your Grace."

I knelt down in front of her. "You may feel like that now, but from where I stand you are the victim here. And I intend to do something about it.

"This Fellowes chap has wronged me too, so this is a case where the enemy of my friend is my enemy as well - or something like that!" I waved my nonsense away with a laugh, attempting to lighten the air between us.

I drew her up to stand in front of me, 'besides, I have plans for you, Mrs Dodgson,' I thought to myself as my mother guided her out of the room, to go and repair her make-up.

"May I ask what your plans for Sir Montague are, Your Grace?" Langton asked, and as he did, I was suddenly back in the Peninsular.

Not physically, obviously, but in my mind, I was reminded strongly of the manoeuvring that Wellesley was so fond of. He often had a plan in his head - which he rarely shared with anyone else - but his plans were never firm, they were always flexible, based on opportunism. He would march his men around and about until the opportunity presented itself, at which point he would pounce.

My plan was simple - do this Fellowes down, in some way. Basic, I know, vague even, the essence was that I had to confront him. I would find a way to embarrass or challenge him somehow. At the same time, I was also trying to avoid spoiling the Ball that everyone had worked so hard to put together. At the very least Fellowes had cost me the services of a steward and Mr Langton's bill for the three title deeds. I did make some suggestions to Henry of a rumour that they might start spreading - regarding investigations into the canal company. Henry would make sure that these were repeated where guests could hear them. He went off with a broad grin.

While I waited for Helena and Emily to return, I asked Barclay to ask Sir Arthur to join me and when he did, I outlined some of what had gone on. When I told him what I had told Henry and why, he laughed uproariously. "That's what I like, Your Grace, dancing and entertainment!" He would field any questions that were aimed in his direction, knowing what was behind them, but being suitably enigmatic.

Helena brought Emily back to join us and I decided that an entrance was called for. With Helena on my left arm and Mrs Dodgson at my right-hand side, I made certain that she was seen with my mother and myself as we strolled into the ballroom as if nothing untoward had happened. I could sense the resolve in Emily to carry it off.

The orchestra were happily playing for the dancers and those people that enjoy such things were ... well, enjoying it.

As we entered, William Barthomley was just by the door, and I took a moment to suggest that he exercise caution in any canal investments.

"Anything specific, Your Grace?"

"Just rumours, Mr Barthomley, just rumours, but perhaps worth listening to," I confided.

We moved around the edge of the dance floor, progressing in a stately, and highly visible manner, towards the room where the buffet that my sister Caroline had organised, was laid out. It was a magnificent table spread (Not that I ever doubted it would be).

Working with the kitchen staff and Mr Dives, Caroline had managed not just to present a buffet for the ball, but she had managed to show off Rogeringham Hall and its estate as well. From the hall's collection of silver and crystal wares, to the chinoise porcelain serving bowls, all were immaculately presented for everyone to see. Candelabra dotted the table, illuminating the roasts and other dishes scattered about, all set for slicing or serving and there was a myriad of complimentary side dishes, sauces and condiments. At one end of the table, a footman waited beside our massive silver punchbowl, to fill our cups with a dark red punch that Caroline and Mr Roberts had produced between them.

I made sure that both my mother and Emily had something to eat and then turned, to find Sir Montague Fellowes standing very close behind me.

"Sir!" I observed. I projected the air that I had observed in James Barthomley, a pompous twit. I assumed that Fellowes did not know me well, so I acted what I thought of as 'fashionably'.

"Your Grace." He nodded, with another off-hand bow.

"Remind me sir, your name again?" I asked.

"Fellowes, Your Grace, Sir Montague Fellowes, at your service." I sensed that his teeth were gritted as he said it. He was a man that was used to being recognised and known for his reputation.

I considered for a moment, and shook my head, "No sir, I am afraid that I do not know you. Pray tell me how you come to be here?"

Fellowes looked at Emily Dodgson. "I was invited by Mrs Dodgson, Your Grace."

"The deuce, you say!" I exclaimed, and with that the opportunity I was seeking presented itself. "Well! That can't be right! Mrs Dodgson is in mourning for her late husband. She only attended at my request. She would not have invited someone else."

"Perhaps Mrs Dodgson is not what she appears to be, Your Grace." So, he was going straight for the throat of it.

"Nonsense! Mrs Dodgson is a proper gentlewoman, sir. And it would be improper of any man to say different of her - at this awful time in her life." I fired back, and then dropped any semblance of a 'twit' from my voice, as I looked him directly in the eye and growled. "Would it not?"

I have fought four duels. I won all four. I know a great deal about provocation and honour. Fellowes was now on notice. If he said anything more about Emily Dodgson, then he had been warned, I would be offended. That would allow me to challenge him, and he knew it.

For a moment, he thought about it. I saw his eyes as he looked - really looked - at the scars upon my face, and he realised that not only had I acquired those scars in battle, but that I had also survived those very same battles.

I saw the thoughts behind his eyes. He realised that I was not the fool he first thought me, and when the tone of my voice changed, he knew that he had been had. Sir Montague was a man who usually got his own way, he thought it was his right. However, when he said, "Of course Your Grace, my apologies. I was mistaken." I knew then that he was also a coward.

"Shall I ask a footman to summon your carriage, sir?" It was time for Sir Montague Fellowes to leave, and he knew it.

He made a better bow this time, and left without saying a word.

I will give him credit. Our society is changing, and people of the middle classes are becoming stronger politically, William Barthomley being a good example. The aristocracy, on the other hand find themselves losing ground in many ways. Areas where typically they would take the lead, they are now being led, by the Barthomleys and the Fellowes of the world. But still, one does not go up against a duke in his own house, unless one has a strong hand, or one is very good at bluffing. Fellowes was bluffing, he had thought he could face me off. I will give him this, the man had stones on him.

I would pursue Fellowes legally. I would not waste a duel on him, first because there is no honour in fighting a coward like that, and second, as I said, because society is changing. I would let Langton have him. We would sue him through the courts, and I resolved that if damages were received, some of them would be for Mrs Dodgson.

I turned to Emily, who looked like she was ready to fall down in a faint.

"Can I get you some punch, Mrs Dodgson? I believe that my sister and Mr Roberts spent a long time on preparing it. It is quite delicious."

As I handed a cup of punch to Helena and then one to Emily, she said quietly, "I do not know how I can ever repay you, Your Grace."

"I do not think repayment is necessary," Helena leaned in. "William takes his role very seriously, he always has. This is what he does, I would just let him proceed and observe the results."

Emily, like my mother, refrained from the dancing because of them both being in mourning, so they sat and they watched the ball together, and I think that they enjoyed themselves. There was a steady procession of people of all standings who came to give their greetings and generally be seen in close proximity to Helena. Emily looked well-suited to the role of companion.

I took another turn around the ball, and caught up with each of my sisters, who were all enjoying the attentions of the young men present, except for Hermione and James who still, for all the world, might have been the only two people in the room.

When I greeted them, the poor boy jumped a foot in the air. Yet despite my feelings about him, I could not fault his attentiveness to my sister. I had come to the conclusion that, if and when he did ask for her hand, then I might just allow him.

Margaret and Louise were giddy with all of the young men paying court to them. I complimented them on the decorations but I think their minds were elsewhere.

Arabella Dorrington was another one who was enjoying a great deal of attention from the young men, in the short time I watched her she danced continuously.

"She could have been yours, Your Grace." The familiar voice in my ear suggested.

"But then again," Elizabeth Dorrington went on. "It was never going to be, was it? And now I have met her, I can understand why."

I looked at her.

"Oh, don't worry, Your Grace, I shall not say anything. After all, you know as much about me as I do about you." She laughed. "Your mother is a very beautiful woman, and your devotion to her is obvious. Or it is to me, anyway.

"I understand, Your Grace," She went on, "We had our pleasure, and no regrets. If I may be so bold, perhaps we can call each other friends?"

"I would like that, Elizabeth, you and Arabella, I would like that very much."

By now it was past ten o'clock and people who had many miles to travel were beginning to take their leave of my mother.

William and Eugenie Barthomley came up to me, and the older Mr Barthomley was most grateful. Apparently, William had heard a whisper from a servant, after my warnings, that the canal company was being investigated, so he had decided against an investment, and he told me that several others had decided against it as well.

My account of the proceedings has left much out. I had innumerable conversations with the guests, who congratulated me on my accession, or thanked me for the invitation. Several of them went on to voice concerns about things that linked us as landlord and tenant, or just as neighbours, but thankfully they were few and far between.

Most were just pleasant encounters, Sir Arthur Hastings made sure that I was introduced to the Deputy-High Sheriff and some of the other Justices. The Deputy Sheriff - the High Sheriff himself could not attend sadly, was quite keen to include me as a justice in the near future.

I was also able to return Dr Locksley's hospitality from a couple of days previously, by providing him with a cup of good Rogeringham ale. At my request, Mr Roberts had prepared a small keg for those that enjoyed ale rather than wine, Barclay brought us both a tankard of it and we stood and drank it like a pair of old tapsters in a tavern somewhere. Both the vicar and I agreed that it was a very good brew.

I stayed up until midnight. By this time most people had gone and the staff were beginning to tidy the house up. The orchestra were packing up their instruments. My mother, my sisters and some others had moved to the drawing room, but for myself, I was ready to retire.