Battle Royale

By J. Howard Shelley

This is the third title in the Burley Series and it (principally) deals with Harriett Burley the youngest of the eight girls. it is set against the background of the abolition of slavery throughout the British Empire.

Harriett has reached her middle twenties having never come close to marriage instead carving out a niche for herself as a horticulturalist of some renown. An accident involving a carriage outside the gates of Burley Manor containing the very beautiful Amelia Greathead and her twin brother, the children of a Plantation Owner and his former slave wife, sets off a train of events culminating in a battle to the death between the forces of the Marquess of Halifax and those led by the Villainous and utterly ruthless Elias Bridgeman Prentice.

Along the way, the Dowager Lady Burley finds herself, somewhat to her surprise, falling in love with the elderly half brother of the Greathead twins. Amelia must contemplate the embarrassingly persistent attention of the young Theodore Wells, Lord Burley finds himself an accomplice to a runaway match between the daughter of a crooked city man and an articled clerk and Harriett finds herself drawn to the Marquess.

What is The Marquess' secret? Why does he keep so much of what he feels hidden and why did he stay away from his home for so long?

Once again the Burley sisters are called upon to exercise all their skills and ingenuity to help the Marquess restore his sadly dilapidated house with the unfortunate consequence that they find themselves as the last line of defence in the battle knowing that, if the battle is lost the the men will be killed Savile Park will be sacked, some of the ladies will be sold into slavery in America and the remainder will be dishonoured.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Howard Shelley
• Release date: Apr 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005909048

J. Howard Shelley

I am 62 years old and I have a daughter w currently working towards a PhD in history. When I left school I trained as a nurse in mental health and then in general nursing ending up in operating theatres. At the age of 45 I became a solicitor (for those of you born on the left hand side of the pond that is a type of lawyer) and I now specialise in litigation work. When I retire I fancy learning to be a bookbinder.For the rest, I have qualifications in welding and ballroom dancing and I teach artistic roller skating. I play a reasonable trumpet I'm good at DIY and I like mountains.My Books are all set in the first half of the 19th Century. I try to construct interesting (and sometimes convoluted) plots, in which a romance is the central theme and you will find no sex or adult content in any of my work.Oh yes .... one other thing; I don't really write for profit. The cover price of $0.99 does not even come close to making it a viable option for a career. I have paid for someone to design covers for me - the cost will not come close to being be covered from this year's revenue...but I am aware what I really need is a proof reader and editor. The truth is - I cannot afford it. The cost of someone to proof read "The Travellers" which is my shortest book (and the free one) is such that (on current sales) I will be dead before I recoup the costs. I do my best but I am aware there are typos. If you find them please contact me on facebook and let me know.

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Battle Royale

J. Howard Shelley

Published by John Howard Shelley at Smashwords

Copyright 2021 John Howard Shelley

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Author’s Plea.

I have called in ever favour I can in trying to get this book properly proof read. I have run Word’s editor function and reviewed very single issue it threw up and I have done my best to eliminate every typo I can find. Based on previous experience I will have missed some. A writer is blind to their own typos because they read what they think they wrote and not what is actually there.

I sell less than 100 books a year at $0.99 a copy and of course my cut is much less than that. The cost of having this book professionally proof read would be about £10 per1000 words or about £1600 – you see my problem. If you find a typo please let me know about it and I will fix it in a future edit.

Thank you.

J Howard Shelley

The Burley Family.

Sir Nicholas Burley (Nick), Lord Burley and owner of Burley Manor. Son of the previous Lord Burley and his first wife Elizabeth Hardinge;

Lady Isabella Burley, His Wife. Formerly Miss Rhetford, an heiress.

Dowager Lady Burley, Widow and second wife of the of the previous Lord Burley.

Emily Daneleigh, Eldest Daughter of the late Lord Burley and his second wife.

Lady Elizabeth Waldron (Betsy), Second Daughter of the late Lord Burley and his second wife. Wife of Sir Thomas Waldron.

Lady Olivia St, John, Third Daughter of the late Lord Burley and his second wife. Wife of Lord St John

Georgette, Fourth Daughter of the late Lord Burley and his second wife. Married to a naval officer.

Sarah, Countess Cunliffe, Fifth Daughter of the late Lord Burley and his second wife. Wife of George, Earl of Cunliffe.

Miss Jane Burley, Sixth Daughter of the late Lord Burley and his second wife.

Miss Ruth Burley, Seventh Daughter of the late Lord Burley and his second wife.

Hiss Harriett Burley, Eighth Daughter of the late Lord Burley and his second wife.

Lady Hardinge, Nick’s maternal grandmother.

Miss Euphronia and Miss Serafina Yeatman, (Aunt Phone and Aunt Phine). Lady Isabella Burley’s Maternal Aunts.

Chapter 1.

Miss Harriett Burley stood on the front lawn of Burley Manor and looked around. It was that time of year when it was no longer winter, but not yet quite spring either. Some of the trees were showing a few green buds and the grass had just started to thicken up. She noticed a few late snowdrops still in flower and there were signs that in a week or so the two huge magnolia trees standing either side of the drive would, if the fine weather continued, burst into early bloom.

Spring was her favourite time of the year. She loved seeing the trees and shrubs that she and the head gardener had planted and nurtured over the years put on their spring show, the Magnolias were always first, followed by the apple and pear blossom in the orchard. After that they had camelias, rhododendrons and lastly the azaleas. And then there were the new plants they had put in the previous autumn. Would they survive and if so, how would they do?

Not long now Miss Burley. Hearing a soft Irish brogue, she turned to see the large head gardener approaching. As long as we don’t get any hard frosts or late snow, I reckon everything will be about a week early.

Mama has already received a few enquiries asking when people can come to see the garden, the young lady replied, nodding in agreement to his comment, I have told her not to allow anyone to come for two weeks but after that I think we will be busy right through the summer.

This Araucaria is likely to be the talking point this year, The gardener observed walking over to an odd spiky looking tree about six or seven feet high. There still aren’t many about and it looks like it is doing well.

At least we shall not have to protect it from children, The irony on her face was evident, if they do grab hold of it, they won’t do so twice! She looked at the sun dipping low in the sky, ah well, time to go in I think, we can’t do much out here now. She looked down at her hands, which for a lady were unusually strong and showed the odd callus, I shall have to get my spade out soon or I am going to go mad. I am already starting to twitch. I wonder what we will get up to this year?

I am sure you will think of something Miss Burley. You make sure we are never bored!

Miss Burley was the youngest of the eight daughters of the late Lord Burley and his second wife, and the only one who, at twenty five years year’s old, had escaped matrimony. This had not concerned her overmuch since she lived a full life and her brother Nick, the current Lord Burley, was more than happy to have her around and put her under no pressure to marry. She was an enthusiastic Aunt to Nicks children and to those children presented to their respective husbands by her seven older siblings. Not one of the many children had ever characterised her as ‘prosy’ or ‘dull’ and she could be guaranteed to indulge the younger ones with any number of parlour games and yet treat the older ones with appropriate respect, as if they were adults.

Garrett, the oldest of all the many children being the oldest child of the oldest sister was, due to the premature death of his father, already a Baronet and the heir when he came of age, to a handsome property and inheritance. To his aunt’s amusement and his mother’s horror, had pronounced her as ‘bang up,’ this phrase being culled from the vocabulary of his friend ‘Sapper’ the landlord of the local Inn. In the main however, the children regarded her as a dependable source of treats, cuddles, and indulgencies.

What the children either did not know, or through familiarity did not appreciate, is that that Aunt Harriett was by now an accomplished horticulturalist who had written (under a masculine nom de plume) a couple of highly regarded books on the subject of the management and design of estate gardens. Together with Dougherty, the large but gentle head gardener at Burley, she had garnered a formidable reputation as someone who could, given time and trial and error, grow almost anything. It had reached the point where she was receiving seeds and plant specimens from all over the world sent to her by a small but enthusiastic collection of admirers throughout the colonies.

It had had all started in a small way. As a result of the death of her sire, a man of small conscience and profligate habit when she was very young, the family were on the brink of destitution. Her brother, left with an encumbered estate and a daunting list of creditors, had just managed to stave off foreclosure but she and her sisters had to do without the usual comforts a noblewoman would usually have expected to command. They retained but three servants. Mrs Harris the housekeeper had bluntly refused to leave, even though she knew she would not be paid, Mama’s dresser, the formidable but unflinchingly loyal Miss Unscott took a similar view and there was just enough money for the assistance of a daily scullery maid who came in from the village.

While all eight girls knew how to hold house and had mastered all the skills Mama considered essential in a young lady of noble birth, they had also been permitted (so far as the family finances would allow) to follow their interests and all had had developed quite noteworthy skills. Sarah was acknowledged as an embroiderer of rare talent and Georgette had could design the most complex of garments with apparent ease. Harriet, on the other hand, developed an unusual interest, at least for a lady, in growing things. For years, they were only able to eat because of what she was able to cultivate in their kitchen garden.

As a result of the fortuitous circumstance of her brother’s marriage to a considerable heiress, the family’s fortunes came about, but the skills the girls had learned remained with them although now they were able to indulge them for pleasure rather than as a necessity. As soon as they were able to afford a gardener, the then twelve year old Harriet’s ambition increased to the point now where, by the date of her eighteenth birthday she was responsible for the design and management of all the gardens owned by her brother and his lady, as far north as Northumberland and as far south as Brighton.

To everyone’s surprise Harriet’s passion grew, almost by accident, into a significant business. When they were short of money Betsy was able to sell her bonnets and Sarah her embroidery, but Harriet became a market gardener. Visitors to the house and garden were much struck by the quality and variety of fruits and vegetable produced in the garden and inevitably departed with something which they had been able to persuade the family to sell for much needed revenue. From this it was but a short step to bottled fruit, pickles and preserves and, when they rebuilt the greenhouses and the orangery, they could produce a significant range of exotic fruits, which, even if you could find them in the markets in London were prohibitively expensive. Within a relatively short time the Gardens, despite being much enlarged and with a full complement of gardeners, just could not keep up with demand.

Nick who had never managed to quite put aside the guilt he felt at his father’s breach of trust, insisted that any profit from his sisters’ endeavours should be theirs and remain so whatever happened in the future. To that end, every year since they had started to generate an income, he was able to settle a sum upon each of them. More than one of his seven brothers in law had remarked, albeit in a somewhat bemused fashion, that at the rate the family business was growing it would not be long before their wives would have an income equivalent to their own.

In pursuit of her passion Harriet had read every book on horticulture upon which she could lay her hands and was a frequent correspondent with a range of persons from Mr. Coke of Holkham, the famous agriculturalist, to Joseph Paxton the head gardener at Chatsworth and Thomas Knight president of the London Horticultural Society. All these gentlemen had started out as somewhat sceptical of the woman whose exploits were becoming so much talked about, but an hour with her in one of her gardens was sufficient to change their minds.

When she was old enough, in common with all her sisters before her, she had a season in London but, unlike her sisters she had not been able to enjoy the gaiety and the endless round of balls and routs. She had been born with a deformed hip a short leg and a conspicuous limp and although she was strong and could work all day, she lacked grace and could not dance. It would not be true to say that she had disliked her season, she was still feminine enough to enjoy wearing a well-made gown which suited her frame and complexion, and there were many other entertainments to her taste other than dancing. She enjoyed the theatre and the fireworks at Vauxhall and the museums, galleries and libraries afforded her plenty of opportunities to meet with people and to learn more about her interests. Moreover, Mama was extremely well connected, and her friends made sure the youngest sister was invited to all the most select gatherings. Long before the season ended however, it was clear that unlike her sisters before her, she lacked the ambition to contract a spectacular match with a suitable gentleman; for the moment at least, she was focussed upon her interest in all things horticultural.

It was not that she lacked suitors; apart from her limp which did not slow her at all, she was more than passably good looking, and she was never properly bored or artificial. Like all her older siblings she could sew and possessed all the skills expected of a noble lady and of a competent housewife. She could speak French and Italian fluently and she had a rich contralto which stood out in an age when the fashion was for the high voice. The truth was, she was more interested in other matters and although she met many interesting gentlemen not one sparked anything more than a desire for a mild friendship in her. Those gentlemen who sought her out because of her brother’s money and her family connections found themselves rapidly found out and ignored and since there was no-one who shared her interest in all things botanical, she found no kindred spirit.

Since she knew from the experiences of her older sisters, that there was more to a happy marriage than mutual respect, she was not at all disposed to consider any of her suitors, and there were some of high rank indeed, as potential husbands. She supposed, if the right gentleman should present himself, she might take a different view, but since her brother had made it clear that she could marry or not as her fancy took her, unlike many of her peers she was under no pressure to take a husband. In the end not one of the gentlemen who called to invite her to the park or to one of the many attractions in London ignited so much as a spark in her breast and so she preferred to remain a spinster.

At the end of her season, she returned to Burley and immediately walked over the garden with Dougherty to see how it had done in her absence, realising in the process how much she had missed it.

That evening Lord Burley was sitting with his wife Isabella in their private sitting room. She was leaning against his shoulder and he had his arm around her. After twelve years of marriage and four children the couple were as much in love as ever and, just for the pleasure of doing so, made a point of sitting together and talking about what they had done that day. That evening his lordship was more than ordinarily pensive and Lady Burley looking up at his face knew him well enough to know what he was thinking.

She will find someone, eventually. She said staring up into the eyes she had loved almost at first sight. It may not be soon, and it may not be someone we expect, but she is like all of your sisters, loving, caring, and determined. It really was unlikely that she would meet someone amongst the London set who would measure up. How would she respect a man whose thoughts rarely run past his horses and his own enjoyments? Those men think in days where Harriet cares for plants so long lived, she may never see them reach maturity.

He looked down at his spouse and nodded, understanding the wisdom of her words and once more marvelling at how lucky he was.

Then Harriet will be permitted to live her life to her own timetable.

Chapter 2.

Harriet had indeed lived her life to her own timetable and by her twenty sixth birthday she was an extremely wealthy young woman. Living at home with her Mama and Brother she had no living expenses and so almost everything she earned went into her trust fund. Nick paid her an allowance for looking after the gardens at all the properties he owned thus saving him a considerable sum in garden design and this more than paid for her clothes and her maid’s wages so every year what remained unspent was also paid into the funds.

Then there were the sums she earned from advising other people about their gardens. This had come about almost by accident. Isabella was brought up by a pair of very eccentric aunts known universally within the family as Aunt Phine and Aunt Phone on account of having been saddled, by an apparently uncaring parent, with the names Seraphina and Euphronia. These two independently wealthy ladies, famously uncaring as to convention, spent their lives decorating other people’s houses and adding to their wealth in the process. They might not have had the reputation of Kemp or Nash, but they were rather less expensive, delivered their projects on time, respected the history of the building, and created homes rather than uncomfortable showpieces.

When Harriet was twenty years old, they were redecorating and updating a house which had been left to decay under the previous owner and thus required significant repairs to the building before work could commence on the interior. During a conversation with new owner, he had remarked that the garden and park needed a substantial amount of work, but he did not know where to start and he did not know anyone who could advise him. The ladies who were also famously autocratic, offered Harriet, without consulting her or considering whether she might not want to accept private commissions, as a person who would know what needed to be done and, waving away the owner’s objections that a twenty year old female would hardly be up to the task, undertook to write to ask for her assistance.

Somewhat surprised by this, but nonetheless happy to help Isabella’s aunts who were, despite their eccentricity, loved by everyone at Burley, she spent three days wandering over the sizable park, identified some features which had long since been overtaken by vegetation and then told the owner what needed to be done, in what order and the likely cost. To her further surprise, and indeed also his own, the owner offered to engage her on the spot. When she expressed herself as unsure, saying that she did not know what her brother or mama would think of her turning her hobby into paid employment, the owner immediately doubled the sum he had initially offered.

Aunt Phine and Aunt Phone wrote to the Dowager Lady Burley explaining the situation and confirming that they would ensure she was adequately chaperoned and Mama, somewhat bemused, but nevertheless happy for her daughter, consented. For the next twelvemonth Harriet spent her time between the Burley properties and her commission and by the end of that time had achieved so much that the owner of the property said that, with the staff she had employed, and the programme of works she had laid out, he was sure he would be able to cope going forwards. In addition to the payment she had already received, and in recognition of the work she had done he also paid a generous bonus.

Ladies could not, of course own property, and therefore the money was paid to her brother who could, as the male responsible for her have kept the money all for himself. To Nick’s mind however, he had no part in the earning of it and so it should properly be hers. Everything she earned was therefore paid into her trust which now generated a significant income. Since she had no need for the income either, this was simply reinvested. Mr. Bragg, who had the honour of being Lord Burley’s man of business was very impressed with Miss Burley and was pleased to be able to report that the sum invested upon her behalf would ensure that, whatever happened, she would be well provided for. Mr. Grant, his Lordship’s Lawyer had tied the trust up so tight that, even should she marry, the money would not pass to her husband, the income would be for her sole use and any capital remaining upon her death would be settled upon any daughters she might have.

Having finished her inspection of the garden, Harriett put off her warm coat and remove the stout shoes she always wore outside and walked into the parlour where an hour previously she had left her Mama making some new cushion covers for the nursery. Emily, Betsy, and Sarah lived very close to Burley and were frequent visitors but even Ruth whose husband’s family home was in Northumberland rarely stayed away for more than three months. All her seven married daughters had children who loved their grandmama and the nursery was therefore in constant occupancy. No-one could recall a time when the Nursery only contained Nick and Isabella’s children and the soft furnishings required constant repair and replacement.

What do you think? The dowager asked holding up her work, they will last no longer than the last set, but they might look good for a few months at least.

One day, Harriet remarked, turning over the complicated design in her hands, I may be able to match you with a needle… I am good enough, but I have not yet your touch.

All my daughters, Mama replied with a degree of emphasis, are good at sewing, and you are no exception. You may not quite have my touch, my dear, but you have other skills which I lack."

True Mama, Harriet bent to kiss her Mama, but I still wish I could set a stitch as well as Olivia or embroider as well as Sarah. I feel … lacking in female accomplishment.

Her mother looked up at her in surprise. It had never occurred to her that her youngest should consider she was somehow less accomplished than her sisters. It was true they all had skills which would more normally be associated with ladies and Harriet’s passion was one that was generally regarded as the province of gentlemen, but no-one at Burley had ever thought the less of her for that. Woe betides the person who adversely judged Harriett for her unusual skill within the hearing of her very proud mother.

Sit down my dear, and pull up your sewing box, there are still three more covers required and I will show you how to do it. The ladies both sat companionably for quite a while as Mama showed her youngest daughter how to make the complicated pattern of tucks and pleats on the covers she had been making. If I have ever, Mama said after a long while, given you to understand that you are somehow less because you cannot draw like Georgette or cook like Emily, then I am sorry for it. She looked Harriet in the eye, you are not less my daughter nor less a lady than they because your chosen path is growing things.

I know Mama, her daughter replied with a sigh, but sometimes I wonder if that is why no gentleman is sufficiently interested in me to make the effort to engage my affections. I know many gentlemen and not one has ever made such an effort that I am able to feel the same about him as Emily does about Malton or Jane about Ancaster and Kesteven. If I were good at the things at which they excel and less passionate about plants mayhap I would have someone to love, and love me, too. She saw her mother’s surprise at this and smiled sadly, when I was younger marriage would not have suited me at all; I had things I wanted to learn and places I wanted to visit but now, I see my sisters and … and over the last year or so I have discovered that being an Aunt is no longer enough.

At that moment Sarah wandered into the room. She was the fifth of the eight sisters, a Countess as the wife of the Earl of Cunliffe, and a regular at Burley on account of her husband’s regular absences abroad on diplomatic matters. The Manor was only a few miles from her home, and she liked the company of her mama and her sisters and the activities which were always on offer. Seeing her Mother and her youngest sister were engaged in needlework she dragged her sewing box forward (all the girls had a workbox at Burley) and joined in. With three of them working it seemed likely the cushion covers would all be finished that day.

Sarah? Mama attracted her attention. Do you think George would still return your regard if you were not quite as skilled in those tasks that we normally associate with our sex? Unseen by Harriet who had looked at her sister, Mama flicked a glance in the younger Lady’s direction.

Since he says he fell in love with me when he caught the tip of his cane in the hem of my dress, pitching me into the street, I should think the skills you taught us all had nothing whatsoever to do with it. She replied returning her concentration to the work in hand, I know he appreciates that I know how to hold house and that I can make many things which most ladies have to buy, and he knows that the house will not grind to a halt if one of the maids if off sick because I know what needs to be done and can do it, but does he love me because of it? – no; it is nothing to do with that.

Well then why? Harriet asked a little plaintively. Why have my sisters all met eligible gentlemen who love and respect them and yet I have not yet encountered one gentleman to whom I can see myself married unless I am prepared to accept a union on a lesser basis than that enjoyed by my siblings? I am a relatively wealthy woman, I have good connexions through my family, my brother and sister in law are well respected. If it is not my skills, then what else is it that I lack?

The bond between the eight sisters, forged when they had to work together to ensure they had enough to eat and to keep the house from being lost to their creditors, were as close as ever, even though seven were now married and had additional responsibilities. It was rare indeed that that at least one of the girls was not at home, bringing with her a clutch of children and the whole family gathered at Christmas and a couple of other times every year. Sarah put down her sewing and but an arm around her junior although, in fact she was but three years younger.

It is nothing to do with what we can do, she assured Harriet, holding her glance so that she could see the truth written there. It is who we are. My husband loves me, we just fit together, and we always did. You need to find your fit, that is all.

"He, whoever he is had better hurry up, Harriet said grumpily, I am nearly an ape leader already!"

Not an ape leader dearest. Mama chuckled at the description of her youngest as an old maid. A tree leader possibly, but I will have no apes in this house.

I distinctly heard my George refer to Garrett as an ape the other day, mama; but I am not sure that was what you had in mind. Sarah laughed at her mother’s jest, however if I meet an intelligent ape, I will direct him towards Harriet.

Chapter 3

A few days later, the weather having remained unseasonably warm and dry, Harriet was out directing operations to construct a rockery. This was a substantial undertaking since there was no natural stone locally and it had to be carted a considerable distance. She had been given some plant specimens from high in the Alps by a gentleman plant collector she knew, and she was interested to see if she could grow them.

Unable to simply stand by and watch, Harriet had changed into her working clothes which consisted of a stout skirt and Jacket fashioned out of homespun wool which was both hardwearing and warm. It had taken much trial and error to arrive at an outfit that worked for her, but the result was that, from the outside, it looked much like something a farmer’s wife might wear. On closer inspection, it was very much better than it first appeared since it had been designed by Georgette, cut by Emily, and sewn by Olivia. While it gave her much greater freedom of movement than the gowns she habitually wore in the drawing room, it was extremely hard wearing and if it tore or wore out, then it was easy to unpick and replace the damaged part. The one real change from the clothes worn by his lordship’s tenants was that it also lined so that the scratchy wool did not touch her skin. She wore wooden sabots with hob nails driven into the soles for grip, her hair was tied back and maintained under a mob cap, she sported a mason’s leather apron, and her hands were protected by a pair of thick hide gloves.

An area on both sides of the drive had been cleared in readiness and two large mounds of stones were starting to take shape. They were careful to ensure that they would not collapse in heavy rain and to that end Daniels, the estate’s resident waller had been drafted in. The core of the mound was a solid pile of stone with smaller stones placed in the gaps to ensure stability. Over that was laid a layer of rich peat and then the whole was enclosed in stone cleverly put together to make it appear as it was a natural rock outcrop.

This was heavy backbreaking work and Harriet had just stood up to straighten her back when she heard a carriage travelling along the main road outside the park. A moment before she expected to see it pass the end of the drive, she heard a horse neigh in pain, there was a loud crash and the sound of splintering wood and a distinctly female scream.

Despite her limp, Harriet could move very quickly when she chose. Realising that the occupants of the carriage might be in need of assistance she ran down the drive past the lodge and out onto the road where a scene of utter devastation confronted her.

A large travelling carriage with four horses harnessed to it was leaning over so far that it seemed as if it were about to roll over onto its side. The was caused by the fact that the front left wheel had completely collapsed and the rear one on the same side was badly damaged. A large log lying in the road was the culprit. The front wheel had shattered upon hitting it, but the carriage had sufficient momentum to carry it forwards so that the rear wheel had broken spokes and the tyre was bent and twisted out of shape.

The coachman had been thrown from his seat and was lying unconscious in the road and the horses caught in the traces were neighing and plunging in fear. The occupants of the carriage had been unable to climb out, probably because the horses were jerking it wildly from side to side and they were probably occupied in trying not to be thrown about and she could hear a combination of female screams and a man swearing. The workmen had all followed Harriet out and so she had ample manpower to help. She turned to one of the younger labourers who she knew could run very quickly.

As fast as you can, run to the stables and send me Westcott and Williams, tell them it is urgent. Then go to the house and bring my maid back with you. She looked for what to do next, Daniels she pointed at the waller who stepped forwards. Pull the coachman out of the way; but do it gently. You will need help. Get him off the road and then send someone to Dr Tiverton. She waited for Daniels to nod and stride towards the unconscious man in the road and then ran over to the carriage standing as close as she dared. Help is on the way, she yelled as loud as she could, but we cannot do anything until the horses are unharnessed. Just hold on for a little longer and we will have you out. There was a short silence from inside before a gruff male voice called in answer."

I know not who you are, but we are grateful. We shall hold on.

Harriet could not ride although she could drive a cart. Her brother, a notable whip, had offered to try teaching her several times, but although she paid little heed to her limp, she knew that one of her hips was weak and she had always felt that she might lack the balance and so had, not without some regret, always declined. Yet she had always been around horses and had some experience in handling them, and she knew, if she could just calm them down a little, life would be much more comfortable for both the frightened beasts and the occupants of the damaged carriage.

After a while, with a little coaxing and some help from Dougherty, she did manage to calm them somewhat, but they were still very skittish. The pole was tilted at an angle due to the damaged wheels having collapsed and there was no one holding the reins. Every so often one of them would plunge again and this would have the inevitable effect of starting the whole team off. It was all they could do to hold the leader’s heads.

After a short time, the sound of galloping hooves could be heard coming up the drive from the manor and Westcott, their Coachman, and Williams, his deputy, came into view riding a couple of the estate horses bareback. By the time they had arrived at the scene they had already assessed the urgency of the situation and they dismounted before their mounts had come to a complete halt. Neither man wasted a moment. Williams went to the head of the leaders and pushed them back relieving the tension on the harness as the horses recognised someone who knew his business. It was the work of a few seconds to unharness them from the carriage and the first pair were free. Walking the skittish beasts out he quickly tied them to a branch of an overhanging tree and ran back to assist his senior.

We’ll not get this pair out unless we lift the coach back level. If we release the harness now there’ll be broken legs for sure, Westcott called out. Immediately Dougherty, who was justly renowned throughout the district for his immense strength ran to the side of the carriage body which was by now nearly on the ground. At a jerk of his head, he was joined by a group of work hardened gardeners. Who will take the pole? Westcott asked. With the men looking after the injured coachman and the remainder about to lift the coach the only person remaining free was Harriet who immediately pulled on her gloves and made ready to prevent the pole clattering onto the ground when the harness was released. Are you sure Miss Burley? Westcott asked, but he saw her decided nod and he knew from experience that while she might be small, she was tremendously strong for a lady and so turned to the task in hand. On my call, he shouted one, two, three, LIFT.

As one, the gardeners lifted the Coach body and it rolled level although the effort of maintain it was clear on their faces. They would not be able to hold it for long. Harriet took the weight of the pole and the two coachmen quickly freed the two horses leading them out of harm’s way. Once the horses were clear, Harriet gave the word, and they gently lowered the coach back down onto what remained of the broken wheels. It was too much for them and as soon as the men released the body, the remaining spokes shattered, and the Coach was now resting on the undamaged wheels on one side and the hubs of the wheels on the other.

Steady that coach. Harriett yelled, If it tips onto its side those people could be hurt and it is going to be much harder to get them out if we have to lift them through the other door.

Someone had found some rope from somewhere and a coil was thrown over the top and quickly tied to the axle on the damaged side. The Gardeners all ran around and grasping the rope hauled mightily. As long as they could hold on, the coach would stay where it was.

You can open the door now, Harriet called into the Coach, we can steady the body but if you open the bottom door you will have to crawl and if you choose the top one you will have to jump. There is however need for haste since your coach could roll onto its side. At this the right hand door, which was now almost touching the road, fell open and a head of luxuriant brown hair closely followed by a sea of bright yellow silk pitched out through the opening on to the road.

I have made more dignified exits from a carriage. The lady, for it was most obviously a female, remarked as she pushed herself up onto all fours. As she was about to stand, a pair of male legs followed her out such that the gentleman exiting the carriage landed upon the road upon his rear. It was his face that attracted her attention, however, because this gentleman was clearly very dark skinned. Harriet had no time to contemplate this because a loud and obviously exasperated voice which she identified as belonging to the male who had spoken previously, emanated from inside the coach body.

For goodness’ sake man, move out of the way. You are obstructing the only exit. Harriet assessed the dark skinned male, whose features spoke of African Ancestry, as not yet having reached the age of twenty years, leaped to his feet at this exasperated comment and a large pair of feet followed by very broad pair of legs slid down onto the road. As the top half of this second man came into view, she noted that this man was white, although tanned as if he had spent a life in the sun, very thickset and one of the most unprepossessing examples of the male sex she had ever met. He was clearly at least fifty years old, not more than medium height, he had a thick mop of grizzled brown hair with the odd strand of grey, a round face sporting a large nose and surmounting very broad shoulders he had almost no neck at all. Having hauled himself to his feet he glanced around, dusted himself down and turned to look at his conveyance.

Hell, and damnation he growled as he launched a kick at the immobile carriage. Dougherty stepped forward in front of Harriet and quietly, but firmly nonetheless, he reminded the man of his manners.

In England, he said, the warning clear in his tone, gentlemen do not use obscenities in front of ladies.

Damm…. I mean dash it; I didn’t know. The man whirled around desperately looking for the lady he might have so offended.

Harriet took pity on him and stepped around from behind Dougherty.

How could you have known, She curtseyed a little awkwardly in her work clothes, Allow me to introduce myself, Miss Burley at your service. My brother is Sir Nicholas Burley the owner of Burley Manor which you will find at the end of that drive. She turned around as she saw her maid Alisa Jones hurrying towards her. My maid will look after this lady while we help you deal with your carriage.

At this, the lady in the yellow gown turned to greet her and it could be seen she was also very dark skinned.

I am Amelia Greathead, her voice was clear, as she curtseyed also, although there was an exotic edge to it which Harriet thought quite beautiful. Since neither of my brothers have sought fit to introduce themselves, may I introduce, she indicated the young man my twin brother Andrew, and this person, who so far forgot his manners to use intemperate language before a lady is my brother, Anderson. She gave a pained smile. Our father was rather addicted to the letter ‘A’."

Harriet instructed Alisa to conduct the two young persons down to the house and ensure they were provided with refreshment, and then set about organising the recovery of the damaged coach. Westcott and Williams were sent to the house with the horses with orders to stable them and then check them for injury. They were also to send a groom back with a cart to carry all the luggage back to the Manor. A gardener was sent into the village to fetch the wheelwright and coach builder to attend the scene and advise what should be done to recover the vehicle to where it could be repaired.

Just at that moment, Tiverton the most respected local doctor the Doctor came around the corner in his Tilbury. He pulled up and case in hand jumped down, to attend to his patient, now stirring slightly where he lay on the side of the road. At the same moment Nick came trotting down the road from the other direction. and seeing the damaged carriage he dismounted.

What on earth…? Lord Burley asked, sliding from his horse, and surveying the scene of the destruction.

Nick, Harriet attracted his attention, This is Mr. Greathead, She indicated this gentleman, waving to him to step forward. This is, or possibly was, his carriage. Mr. Greathead, this is my brother, Sir Nicholas Burley. Nick, Mr. Greathead’s brother and sister have already been taken up to the house.

I will say this, Nick observed humorously shaking Greathead’s hand, when you destroy a carriage you do not do so by halves!

Well, if a thing is worth doing and all that, he gave a crack of laughter, but look Sir, I suspect I have been unpardonably rude to your sister and given what she has done for us, I owe her and you an apology.

He saw my dress and thought I was a farmer’s wife, Harried explained at her brother’s raised eyebrow. He gave vent to his very understandable feelings in some er… colourful language until Dougherty leaped to my defence.

Oh! is that all? Nick chuckled, I have eight sisters and not one of them would consider taking you to task over such a small matter in circumstances such as these. As for not recognising her as a lady, most of the time when I am out on my estate you would not recognise me as a gentleman either. If there is work to be done here, then everyone in my family pitches in. My sister’s unusual mode of dress is explained by the fact she is constructing something she calls a rockery. He pointed to the half-finished construction just inside the gate You would have to ask her about it, she is the gardener here. A silk gown would hardly be appropriate attire for such an activity.

Nick then turned to his sister and confirmed that everything that could be done for this family had, for the moment at least been done and then invited the gentleman into Burley Manor.

At this Mr. Greathead looked a little uncomfortable.

Sir, it is not that I am ungrateful for your assistance and for that of your sister, but I believe we should not be troubling you further. If you could just point me to the nearest inn, then my brother and sister and I can be on our way. I would also be very grateful if you could arrange for our baggage to be sent there too. I can pay for the Doctor who is attending my coachman and, since I apprehend it may take some days for my carriage to be repaired there is every hope that by the time the work is complete, Gollings will be fit enough to drive us.

There is a very good inn very close, but I see no reason why you should not stay with us. We like visitors, we have plenty of room and remaining here will give you further opportunities to apologise to my sister. This mild jest did not appear to afford the gentleman any relief for his discomfort and he was about to try again, when Harriet, who had no time for beating about the bush, explained the problem.

Mr. Greathead is concerned that we might not tolerate his brother and sister. They have, as I judge, some negro ancestry and I imagine therefore that they have been received with something less than kindness in some quarters. He is probably concerned not to expose them to any further ill-treatment. Nick looked at his sister in some astonishment before looking back at Mr. Greathead who seemed equally nonplussed. Since his brother and sister are somewhat younger than he is, Harriet ploughed on apparently unconcerned, I am assuming the Gentleman’s father married twice. You really ought, dear brother to reassure our involuntary visitor that the colour of a person’s skin is, in Burley Manor at least, not taken to be a measure of the individual who resides within it.

Nick was a kindly and not unintelligent man. He was a good brother and an excellent husband, but he was sometimes a little slow to catch subtext of a conversation. This was an unfortunate handicap in a household dominated by females who appeared, as he ruefully observed on many occasions, to be able to conduct two separate conversations between the same people at the same time. Hints passed him totally by and it was the family joke that he could never see what was under his nose. It was therefore not uncommon for his sisters, his wife, or his Mama to explain matters to him, often in a tone of exaggerated patience, in the sure and certain knowledge that he would not have worked out for himself. He turned to the gentleman standing beside him.

Is my sister right sir? He asked, are you concerned at the reception they might receive?" Mr. Greathead looked him straight in the eye.

Since I have been in England no fewer than three inns have refused admission to us solely upon the basis of the colour of my brother and sister’s skin. They would have no difficulty with them if they were servants but, I am told, none of the staff in the inn would serve them. You may therefore safely say, Sir, yes! I am concerned at the treatment they will receive here.

Hmm, Nick was not remotely offended, I see your concerns. What say you then that we all walk down to the house. If your concerns remain, I will arrange for you, your family and all your luggage to be conveyed to the Victory Inn and I will instruct the Landlord, who since I own the building, works for me, to put you up in his best rooms. What say you?

I would say that a man cannot be fairer than that, Greathead replied with a smile. Lead on then.

They did not, in fact, reach the house before they met up with Mr. Greathead’s younger siblings. Just around the corner of the drive and out of sight of the main gate they were standing in a small group of people which included Alisa and two individuals of quite extraordinary and contrasting stature.

The first was a very tall man in a long black coat and wide brimmed hat. He had an aquiline nose and, although he was a tall man and large with it, he did not appear to run to fat, and he gave an impression, to those who did not know him, of being self-contained and a little dangerous. Standing next to him was a much shorter man carrying a stout wooden staff. In appearance he was the compete opposite of his companion. He had a short round body with an enormous barrel chest and almost no neck at all. His face and ears bore the scars which spoke of a career as a prize fighter and his hands wrapped around his staff were twice the size of those of an ordinary man.

Your siblings have met up with Clifford and Tubs. Nick observed, causing his companion to glance at him. The tall one is Clifford and the shorter one is Stubbings – but everyone call him ‘Tubs’ for short. They are my game keepers."

Good Lord! Greathead’s jaw dropped at the ill matched pair. I’ll warrant you don’t get too many poachers on your land.

As you say, most of them have concluded the risks are not worth the reward and have gone elsewhere.

As they approached it was clear that Miss Greathead was excitedly chattering to the two game keepers.

… and he told me about you two when I was a little girl. How extraordinary! On seeing her elder brother approach she turned and blurted out, "this man fought with Uncle Simon in the