Rogeringham

We looked at some of our champagnes as well, and having decided which of those we would use, we eventually arrived at the cases of port.

Roberts, the cellarman, was still unable to say when the change had been made. One of the bottles was opened and sampled, and while it wasn't the worst bottle of port I have ever tasted, in fact, in thirty- or forty-years' time, it would probably be a decent bottle, but Roberts swore it was not even part way as good a vintage as the ones that it had been substituted for.

I examined the cases themselves and saw a small wine merchant's label. Roberts wrote the details on a scrap of paper for me. It did not match any of the merchants we usually deal with.

We left the cellars to talk about Caroline's plans. I have a study at Rogeringham Hall, just as I do in the Mayfair house, and we moved there with Roberts, to agree his actions. Caroline gave me a list of some other beverages that she thought we would require, and I gave it to Roberts to organise.

Once Roberts had gone to set about his work - decanting and bottling alone would be several days' effort, Caroline and I sat and chatted.

She is, as perhaps I have already said, the tallest of my sisters, dark haired and pretty, she has her mother's grey eyes and is the most like her in the face. As we were bringing our conversation about the ball to an end, Caroline surprised me by asking whether I was serious about letting her and my other sisters determine their own partners when the time came.

"I am," I told her, "Do you have someone in mind?"

"I do," she said thoughtfully, "But it is not someone that I think, even with your progressive attitude William, I would be allowed to marry." Her tone was wistful, slightly sad.

"Will you tell me who it is?" I think the fact that I asked, and didn't demand, surprised her, because she started at the question. Caroline looked at me carefully weighing what she was going to say.

"Would you be angry if I didn't?" The question was tentative, uncertain. "I have my reasons not to, but the chief amongst them is that the person does not know of my affection, and I want no consequences on them in their innocence."

"If this person does not know of your affection," I wondered, "How will they know when to ask for your hand when the time comes?"

At that point thoughtful and considerate Caroline realised the flaw in her plan.

"Will they be free to make the offer?" I asked.

She looked embarrassed. In a movement very reminiscent of her mother, she began to worry at some tiny speck on her lap. "I am afraid I had not got that far in my plans," she said when she looked up.

"Ask me about mathematics, William, or how to compose a watercolour of lilies," she laughed, with a tinge of embarrassment. "I can answer with confidence, but in the affairs of the heart I am severely lacking in knowledge."

She looked up at me, "Is it true what Charlotte says about your experience in this area?"

"I am not sure," I replied, "What has she said?"

"How you have had many adventures in love as well as war." Then she almost whispered, "That you and she - er, in the inn?"

I put on my sternest tone - Caroline being the most serious of my sisters, was always the easiest to tease - and asked, "We 'er' what in the inn?

"I have had many adventures since I went from this house, and some before I left." I told her, still maintaining my serious tone, even though I was smiling inside. "But I am afraid that you will need to be more specific about the 'er' in the inn?"

I have never seen Caroline look so uncertain, normally her confidence comes from her gathering of the facts, now she looked lost. She examined the speck on her lap again. Her voice was quiet as she said, "She said that you - er that you made her a woman, William."

"I did." I said, "At her request." Caroline looked up at that, and she saw that my sternness was just a mask, and that I was smiling broadly.

"William!" She said exasperated by my teasing. I walked round the desk and sat next to her, taking her hand in mine.

"I promised your mother, our mother, that I would do everything I could to prepare you all for the next stage in your lives, leaving here and becoming wives - if that is what you wish. There is so much to learn, but I think the most important thing is that you have confidence in yourselves - the confidence of the sister of a duke, a Rogeringham."

"That is why you set us to make the ball come about?"

I nodded.

"So why did you sleep with Charlotte? How is that preparation?"

"She and I have talked much since I returned and regained some of the closeness we had when we were children. When we were over-nighted at that inn, we slept together because she felt that that was something lacking in her. Something that she wanted me to fulfil."

"And if I was to ask the same favour?"

"If you asked, Caroline, I would do my very best to honour your request." I said sincerely.

Abruptly, she stood up, which to be honest was not the reaction I expected, or frankly, hoped for. "I have much to do if I am to fulfil my share of the ball preparations," she said, brusquely, as she moved towards the door. With her hand upon the door handle, she paused, and said more softly, "Concerning the other thing, may I think upon it? It is not a decision I want to rush into."

"I would not have it any other way," I said as I blew her a kiss.

As she turned, I saw her smile to herself.

Turning back to my desk, I looked again at the cellar book that Roberts had left with me. The wines which had been replaced had not been noted as 'removed' in the book as they would normally be, instead Roberts had diligently entered the new cases as a separate entry, not initially being aware of the removals. This may sound peculiar to some, but given the number of entries in the book, that some items got over-looked is easily understood. Roberts assured me that he had subsequently searched the cellars and the items were assuredly missing and not mislaid.

It might be asked why it matters? After all it was only five dozen bottles of port? With the other missing items, the amount missing amounted to probably twenty dozen bottles in all. To some it might not seem to be a big issue, but to put it simply, it was the principle of the matter.

Looking at the details of the wine merchant I noted that they were based in Buckingham itself. I resolved that as things were progressing nicely with the ball, I would travel the fifteen miles or so to the town and visit the merchant. I picked up a pen and made some notes from the cellar book.

After some more consideration I rang for a footman and told him to ask Mr Dives to attend me.

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 6^th 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. "6^th 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.