Androshorts: Lords and the Lady

Safe now in London, the bandages to his face looked horrific though and I felt that pang that I'd felt when the list had first arrived and he'd initially been described as missing in action presumed dead.

In those hours of doubt, I was surprised how little I felt about it. I of course realised that despite his short wooing of me, I'd had never really loved him and he had been quite the most unpleasant bastard to me from the day after our wedding announcing that I was little more than a chattel, a social requirement that at some point he might try to make pregnant for the family's sake, drunkenly chuckling that he preferred to share his bed with other older more experienced women, especially the Countess of Craie whose elderly husband seemed almost incapable of doing anything other than playing cards badly and losing vast amounts of money, and interfering with his women staff.

I visited George every other day taking it in turns with Lord Charles and I was surprised to see the faint smile of recognition from him.

"Katherine?" he whispered. I smiled and nodded, detecting a hint of... recognition and... relief from him? He had never been that worried about seeing me before that was for sure.

"It's me, George," I said stepping closer to him, "It's Katie."

"Katie..." he breathed, and looked up into my face and smiled again, falling asleep in moments.

It was most unlike him, perhaps his wounds and the terrible time he'd had in Belgium had made him realise some feeling for me? I walked from Charing Cross back to our townhouse the mile and a half, thinking long and hard about the change in my husband, and it was some change.

On one of my non-visit days, I went to my Grandmother's large townhouse, a place so well set in my memory that just to stand in the bright entrance hall could raise my spirits whatever ailed me. When I got there I found Grandmama was entertaining an old Friend, Dowager Baroness Franklin but still overjoyed to see me, as was the Baroness and they were straight into discussion as if they spoke just the day before, talking of old times and new times and how George was slowly recovering in hospital from his horrendous wounds.

Grandmama mentioned that when George was wounded one of her footmen, who was acting as an orderly to him, was missing presumed dead.

"WHAT? DAINES' YOUNG SON M'DEAR?" shouted the Dowager Baroness.

"YES, HE'S BEEN KILLED DEAR!" shouted the Lady of the house, the Dowager Baroness being profoundly deaf and was probably the only person in polite society that didn't know it.

"WAS AN AWFULLY NICE BOY DAINES... DAMN GOOD WITH HORSES... AND DOGS... YOUNG DAINES, YES, THAT WAS HIM, SON OF YOUR HOUSEKEEPER."

"YES, DEAR, KILLED IN THAT SAME AWFUL BATTLE THAT KATIE'S POOR GEORGE WAS TERRIBLY WOUNDED AT, NEVER FOUND HIS BODY! HIS POOR MOTHER HAS NEVER BEEN THE SAME, WE'VE SENT HER TO THE COUNTRY HOUSE TO RECOVER, WITH HER HUSBAND!"

"NO BUTLER DEAR GIRL?" said the baroness with little feeling, "AT LEAST GEORGE IS SLOWLY COMING OUT OF IT SO IT SEEMS -- ISN'T THAT SO DEAR KATIE?" said the Dowager with some hopeful expectancy.

"YES, BARONESS!" I shouted, "HE'S STILL VERY HEAVILY BANDAGED BUT WILL BE COMING HOME..." I tried to muster the necessary enthusiasm, "QUITE SOON!"

I thought about how having George back in the house, whatever transformation had happened to him on the road to Menin, life was still going to be absolute bloody murder.

He would be the same nasty, spoilt, puerile, anti-social, graceless idiot that he had always been but would now need waiting on hand and foot for the rest of his life, a genuine, certified soon-to-gazetted war hero.

I was all but waiting for the arrival of that damned Craie woman who would just push me out of the way and take over the care of MY husband, I'd already had to write back to her twice to tell her he was still in the Officers wing of Woolwich Hospital and not receiving visitors; that was a tactical untruth he was ACTUALLY still in Charing Cross but I wasn't telling her that. I heard from Lord Charles that she had gone to Woolwich twice and got quite cross telling the orderlies that she was a close personal friend of Lieutenant Chalonier and she just HAD to see him.

Bitch.

It was such an awful mess and I'd never felt so alone. She would only be the first of his many older lovers that would demand access to him, and all of polite society would know that none of them spoke, that the soppy push-around wife of his was sitting in her lounge while he was 'nursed' by his many admirers in their bedroom.

I felt dreadful and just wanted to be on my own for a moment and stood, the thought of what my life would now become tearing me apart.

"Please excuse me Grandmama," I said, "I'LL SEE YOU IN A MOMENT, BARONESS!"

I stood, bowed to the Dowager Baroness and stepped out into the hallway where Yeates the Butler was waiting.

"Lady Chalonier," he said with a soft smile, "I trust that the Hon George is recuperating?"

With the death of his elder brothers, many had given him the in-waiting honorary title of his father.

"Slowly Mr. Yeates, very slowly." I smiled back at him.

"Well, you tell the Lieutenant that everyone here has him in their thoughts and prayers Mam."

"Thank you, Mr. Yeates," I whispered, my voice breaking at the end, but not for the reason that the Butler, a veteran of both the Boer and the Zulu wars himself, thought it was.

I stepped through to the garden and to where I'd spent so many wonderful days and evenings, starting as the shy sixteen year old not allowed up later than nine and sent to my room immediately dinner had ended and the ladies retired.

I thought of my wonderful grandfather who had always held a special place for me, his one granddaughter and so very different from his boisterous, rambunctious grandsons and their constant jockeying for position among the family hierarchy. That hierarchy was considerably smaller now as some of my male cousins and one of my three brothers were confirmed killed or missing in action at various points from the Marne, through Ypres and to the mud and blood of the Somme.

My husband, a third cousin of mine and apparently picked out as a possible suitor and very proper husband for me while I was still that shy teenage girl, had been brought back from such a battle.

While I had felt desperately sad for that short time when I thought that at the age of twenty-three I was now a childless widow in a nation with an extremely high level of widows, to have George back now actually felt worse.

Had he died in the mud my social status would probably have frowned on me marrying again but at least with George's return I might still have the chance of the child that would give what both of our families wanted most of all, a child for me to shower all of my unused and unwanted love and affection onto.

With tears pouring down my face I stepped towards the swinging seat that I'd sat on with Grandpapa and I sat down thinking on what to do.

"YEEEEEES, SUCH SHAME ABOUT DAINES!" shouted the Baroness adding a light but loud chuckle, "OF COURSE YOU KNOW WHO HIS REAL FATHER WAS DON'T YOU!"

"Judit..." said my Grandmother, "This is hardly the time..."

I knew that there was no way the Baroness would have heard that.

"BLOODY GOOD FOR NOTHING CHARLES CHALONIER!" shouted the Baroness. I stopped swinging for a moment and listened.

"JUDITH!" called Grandmother.

"GOT DRUNK AND RAVAGED THAT HOUSEKEEPER OF YOURS!" she all but cackled, "SHE WAS ONLY A HOUSEMAID AT MY TOWNHOUSE THEN, HELL OF A ROW ABOUT IT OF COURSE, BUT YOUR FATHER AGREED TO TAKE HER TO YOUR PLACE IN THE COUNTRY AND MARRY HER OFF TO HIS BUTLER DAINES ONCE WE FOUND OUT THE POOR GIRL WAS PREGNANT! OH, THE FURORE IT CAUSED, NEVER THOUGHT I'D HERE THE END OF IT" She laughed again as if rape was all such fun. I was stunned, Daines the footman had been my half-brother-in-law!

"JUDITH!" howled grandmother, "PLEASE... lower your voice, think of the staff..."

"WHAT?" shouted the Baroness, but carried on regardless, "SO THE LATE DAINES WHILE BEING GEORGE'S BATMAN WAS ALSO HIS HALF-BROTHER AND DID LOOK THE SPIT OF HIM!" I heard the Baroness laugh and could imagine her rolling back in her seat laughing, "THAT'S WHY HE WAS SENT OFF TO YOUR PLACE IN THE COUNTRY, THEN OFF TO YOUR SON'S PLACE, WASN'T IT?" There was a pause, the Baroness evidently took a breath, "DEAD NOW THOUGH, WON'T TROUBLE THE FAMILY AAAAAANY LONGER, NOTHING THERE THAT WILL HARM DARLING KATIE WHAT?"

So George's orderly and batman had been the young man from Grandmother's estate. I could just about remember him as the young boy that helped out in the stables, in the gardens, carried messages and walked the family dogs, the thing that stuck out particularly was that he was occasionally mistaken for one of the Chalonier Boys and as he got older he was sent off to the country estate to learn the business of footman and butler, then looking after my oldest brother's place not far from Chalonier Hall.

I sat stock-still, stunned by the Baroness's reminiscences with my beloved Grandmama; so much information in so little time, and each revelation was like I was being smacked in the face.

The thought that my Father-in-law Lord Charles, the only Chalonier that had ever really been kind to me, had raped my Grandmother's wonderful, warm and friendly housekeeper sent me cold, worsened by the fact that her son, that young boy I remembered who I saw when walking the gun dogs and called me Miss Katie in such a sweet way was my step brother-in-law. To top that he had disappeared in the mud, probably blown to bits.

I turned to go back into the house, I'd heard enough news for one day.

"AND OF COURSE THE OTHER THING ABOUT DAINES?" shouted the Baroness.

"NOT NOW JUDITH PLEASE!" begged my lovely and sensitive Grandmama at the top of her voice.

"HAD A COCK THE SIZE OF SHORT STALLION AND KNEW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!"

"JUDITH!" my Grandmother all but screamed.

"YOUNG TILLY QUARLEY KNOWS ALL ABOUT IT I UNDERSTAND!" laughed the Baroness, "MY GAMEKEEPER SAW HIM ROGERING THE POOR GIRL SENSELESS IN THE WATERLOO FOLLY AFTER THE LAST HUNT DINNER! POOR DEAR COULD BARELY WALK AFTER HE'D SEEN TO HER! GOOD AND PROPER HIS WIFE TOLD ME, QUITE TOOK IT OUR OF THE HER, AFTER PUTTING IT IN HER IN THE FIRST PLACE WHAT!" The Baroness screamed her delight, and I took this as the time to rescue my poor Grandmama who was never used to this kind of discussion, especially not shouted around her townhouse before luncheon.

I curtseyed to the Baroness and she stopped talking with a naughty 'almost caught' schoolgirl smirk, patting that back of Grandmother's hand-finishing the conversation and reducing her red cheeks and palpitations.

We went through to the dining room for a splendid lunch and when the Baroness headed for the House of Lords to meet her Husband, my Darling Grandmama went for a much-needed lie-down and glass of port.

Lord Charles was at the townhouse on my return with the Doctor and a nurse specially selected to look after George and speed his recovery which was surprising everyone. Apparently, George had asked to get up and 'stretch his legs' after being a virtual bed-bound prisoner for almost six weeks. The Doctor allowed this and it was the first indication that George might recover quicker in the comfort of his own home with his family.

George was carried on a stretcher by four Medical Corps soldiers with the greatest care and lowered down on his bed and lifted onto it. It caused him some pain, I could see in his unbandaged face but he made no sound, waving a polite hand and whispering his thanks to the four stretcher-bearers for their great care of him. They all saluted and left as quietly as they had come taking the stretcher with them. He slept for the rest of the day watched over by Clements his nurse.

The next morning was my first chance to see for myself what damage had been done to my husband and was now being mended by the wonderful Clements, one of the finest nurses his father could find, just finished caring for a terribly wounded son of a friend.

George hardly said a word and I guessed that any movement of his jaw must be agony for him. His body looked different though! The next morning, I had all the proof I needed.

I'd woken early and tiptoed into his sickroom to see the nurse preparing dressings and talking to him about what she was going to do, George displaying a very gentle, even grateful stoicism which was most unlike him. He'd once punched a footman in a drunken rage when he hurt his ankle removing his riding boots.

This new, fitter, nicer George had developed a conscience!

I leaned across the bed placing a gentle kiss on his cheek aware that my very full bosom was pressing against his uninjured arm, he smiled the now lopsided smile that had it been from any other man would have warmed my heart, I was almost convinced now.

I watched with some compassion as Nurse Clements removed the sheet held off of his body by a bamboo frame.

"I'm so very sorry Lieutenant George," said the nurse as she slowly pulled the bandage from the evil-looking gash the length of his thigh. I saw a glint of black on some ordinarily whitish-pink skin. "There it is George!" she cried with a careful delight, "I knew there was another bit of shrapnel in there!"

George looked down, gulped then closed his eyes and I was waiting for the outburst, the nasty, threatening sneer of the class bully, the spoilt brat of spoilt brats.

"OK Mrs. C," he hissed. "I know it has to come out, do what you have to do." He gritted his teeth and looked across to me with a quite soppy smile that just called to me, and I crossed to him. Clements smiled at me and nodded towards George's hand. I stepped in close and took it, initially because I didn't want him to lash out at anyone.

"This isn't going to be nice Lieutenant, hold on tight to Lady Katherine." She looked up and across to me, "Now I'm going to try to pull this piece out without cutting the poor boy anymore."

She wiped across the wound with some strong-smelling antiseptic and I felt him shiver against the stinging pain on his open wound. Clements looked at me and nodded, and I felt George's hand tighten on mine as the nurse squeezed and pinched around the shard of metal working out of his body.

In a fraction of a second, there was the clatter of a metal object into the small dish by the bed,

"Got it!" said Clements in triumph, "Well done Mr. and Mrs. Chalonier," she sighed and took the bottle of iodine and poured it neatly into the new tiny bloody hole in his groin.

"Arrrgh..." George cried out, a sound of anguish, not anger that had him holding my hand tighter than ever and pushing his cheek to mine, I realised after a few moments I could feel his tears mixing in with mine, "Arrgh... Christ!" he cried as Clements dabbed and squeezed at the wound until the last of the iodine was out of it, "Th... thank you..." he said with a barely withheld sob that sounded so unlike my husband.

"It's going to be fine Lieutenant," said Clements, "a little pain now is better than some infection that will see them take your leg."

I could see tears on his cheek and the weakest smile.

"Sorry Mrs C," he sighed, "don't know what came over me..."

The sight of that brave man's tears was almost too much so I pushed my face next to his, drying his cheek with mine.

"It'll be OK George," I hissed kissing his cheek and brushing my face against his.

"Thank you, Katie," he puckered his lips to kiss me, which again was something he never did.

Clements was drying the iodine from his various wounds and generally dabbing and dressing the small hole which I now hoped would heal as well as the other myriad holes, scrapes, and contusions that seemed to decorate and desecrate one side of this very attractive body. I felt him relax and saw his smile.

No, that wasn't my husband, from the start he would have dared her to hurt him and threatened to beat and then sack her if she did. He wouldn't have said 'sorry' for crying out.

The nurse peeled the bandage away from a wound lower down that I could see was definitely improving. The nurse smiled, "we're almost there George!" said Clements in delight, "I'd like the Doctor to take a look at that as I think we're ready to leave this one to heal on its own."

"Thank you!" hissed George.

THANK YOU!?! FROM GEORGE!?!

"It's looking so well now Lady Chalonier, don't you think?" Clements raised the sheet and I could see the almost dry and fresh pink skin that had just two weeks ago been a deep red slash that seemed forever wet with either blood or pus. Clements had indeed worked miracles; there was my final proof that this man wasn't who everyone thought.

Many things could have happened to my husband in his four months training in Sussex, eight months in France and Belgium, his wounding, his two weeks in a field hospital, his three weeks at the military hospital in London and the great care shown to him here at his family's townhome, but I'd never heard that a flaccid penis could grow an extra two possibly three inches in length and a couple more in girth.

I hadn't realised that I was staring at the thing, such was its import.

"Don't worry Lady C," said Clements putting a caring hand on mine, "your husband is well on the way to a great recovery!" I snapped out of it and turned to face the nurse, "He's very fit and has a great attitude -- a weaker man might have died of wounds such as his."

A weaker man probably had.

"Thank you!" I said to the nurse, "I'll go and speak to Mason about George's breakfast."

"You do that Mam," said Clements with a satisfied grin, "I have to dress the wounds on the Lieutenant's face now."

I stepped closer leaning in across the broad chest, so much more muscular and toned than the real George Chalonier, to kiss this man's face; whoever he was.

I headed out and towards the sitting room and rang the bell for Mason the Butler. He arrived,

"Yes Mam?" said the old retainer with a slight inclination of the head.

"Lieutenant George is ready for his breakfast now Mason," I said.

"Will you be taking breakfast as well, Ma'am?"

"In the dining room please Mason."

"Of course Ma'am, I'll have it brought up directly."

"And I'd like the car brought around for ten o'clock, I'll be going to visit Lady Staithmoir at home."

"Of course Ma'am."

After I had dressed and breakfasted, I headed into the hall where Mason was ready with my coat and umbrella, seeing me out into the car.

Lady Josephine Stathmoir was another old friend and we had met in finishing school. Lord Stathmoir was a senior Royal Navy Officer safe in his Dreadnought Battleship cruising the North Sea for any German ship that might put its nose out of harbour.

I was so warmly welcomed in by my old friend who was overjoyed that I was back in London and that my husband was alive and making a good recovery.

"Yes," I said, "Sadly his orderly Daines was killed."

"Oh what a shame, he was such a nice chap and a terribly good servant. His mother is your grandmother's housekeeper?"

"Yes, she was extremely broken up about his death, and the fact that there was no sign of his body."

Lady Josephine looked sad for a moment,

"There are so many young men whose bodies are not being found," She poured more tea, "At least Darling George was found in one piece."

"Yes," I said taking my tea and a deep breath, "I understand that your cousin Tilly will miss Daines particularly!?"

Josephine's mouth fell open,

"Why Katherine Chalonier, I'm sure I don't know what you mean!"

We moved closer together conspiratorially...

"Daines?" shouted the lady, fresh from the Hunt ball taking place across the manicured lawns and ornamental garden.

"Yes Mam," said the young footman, walking tall and straight from his master's favourite mare.