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A Lucky Star
A Lucky Star
A Lucky Star
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A Lucky Star

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In the novel, 'Dr. Russell,' twin babies were stolen and sold. This novella tells what became of them...

19th century Britain knew extremes in wealth and well-being. The death of children was not unusual. The poorest families struggled to survive even to the point of selling one of their children to help feed those remaining. Children were stolen to be trained as pick-pockets, chimney sweeps or worse.
This tells the story of twin babies stolen and sold—and what became of them.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 16, 2021
ISBN9781005007195
A Lucky Star
Author

Suzy Stewart Dubot

An Anglo/American who has lived in France for nearly 40 years, she began writing as soon as she retired. She moved to London in 2012 and spent more than a year there with family. The spring of 2014, she returned to France, Her laptop has never had any trouble following her.Before retiring, she worked at a variety of jobs. Some of the more interesting have been : Art and Crafts teacher, Bartender, Marketing Assistant for N° 1 World Yacht Charterers (Moorings), Beaux Arts Model, Secretary to the French Haflinger Association...With her daughters, she is a vegetarian and a supporter of animal rights! She is also an admirer of William Wilberforce.(If you should read her book 'The Viscount's Midsummer Mistress' you will see that she has devoted some paragraphs to the subject in Regency times.)PLEASE BE KIND ENOUGH TO LEAVE A REVIEW FOR ANY BOOK YOU READ (hers included).

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    A Lucky Star - Suzy Stewart Dubot

    Suzy Stewart Dubot

    Suzy Stewart Dubot owns the copyright to this novel.

    Reproducing any part of it by any means without prior permission from the author will infringe copyright laws.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of her imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, businesses or events is purely coincidental.

    Published at Smashwords

    Copyright © June 2021 Suzy Stewart Dubot

    All rights reserved.

    ISBN: 9781005007195

    DEDICATION

    This is dedicated to my American mother,

    Doris A. Stewart.

    8th November 1921—3rd February 2018

    Although she already had our baby brother to care for, she graciously took in three children she’d never met and gave them a home.

    Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you did for us so generously!

    ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

    Once again, I have to thank those beta-readers who were able to put their fingers on errors or quirks. Thanks to them, this story should read that much more smoothly.

    Thank you,

    Clarissa Livingston, Bill Rayburn,

    Judy Rinehimer & Sheri Lynn Waddell

    Author’s note:

    A number of readers of my novel, Doctor Russell, asked what happened to the babies who were stolen. They felt that I’d left the story hanging, which wasn’t my intention.

    In the early 19th century Britain, many children died young from illnesses. Some children were ‘sold’ by their parents to help feed the family, while others were stolen to become chimney sweeps, pick-pockets or even worse. If missing children were not found rapidly, the poor didn’t have the means to find them.

    Whatever the cause for the loss of a child, it was a common occurrence and even the wealthy were not immune.

    I have written A Lucky Star in the hope of satisfying those wishing to know what happened to the twins.

    Although I am fortunate to have many American readers, I feel obliged to write in British English, because the story begins in Britain and most of the main characters are British.

    I hope that the ‘s’ (e.g. sympathise) instead of ‘z’ and the ‘our’ (e.g. honour) instead of ‘or’ will not spoil the story but will add a touch of authenticity.

    ~Chapter 1~

    The six-month-old twins, Jemima and Jeremy Fullerton had been stolen and sold to the highest bidder.

    Smiling, good-looking babes, unaware of their dire situation, it had been no surprise when the bids had reached an unprecedented high. Among the bidders, the brothels, imagining future income generated by the twins, were quickly surpassed by an unknown element—an American.

    Gossip had later revealed that Lord Arthur Bagley, an aristocrat who frequented the lower levels of society, had been responsible for introducing the American into the infants’ auction. No doubt his lordship, who was always in need of funds for his drinking and gambling, had received ample payment for this service. No one knew what the American planned to do with the children, but it stood to reason that, had he wanted children for reprehensible reasons, he could always have bought them at home, in the United States of America. There were evil people there, too, willing to traffic in children. He’d paid far more than any other auction had produced, added to which, he would now have to pay their way to his homeland along with servants to care for them.

    It would be a subject for discussion for many years—the twins who got away; the envy of everyone.

    Gabriel Thorpe had not intended to buy two babies. He didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk, which had been the case most days since his wife’s death. It had been the sleazy Lord Bagley, otherwise known as Viscount Midish, who had somehow talked him into going to an ‘unusual’ auction for his amusement, thinking it would distract him from the depression which invaded his days. He had only just met the aristocrat at an inn, while dining, so, had not suspected his base habits, his favourite form of entertainment.

    The auction had certainly distracted Gabriel.

    He had been so horrified to find himself witnessing the scum of the City of York bidding on two young children that he had protested vocally in what had been taken as a bid. Egged on by Bagley, although Gabriel hardly noticed his ‘buddy’ for the rest of the evening, he had continued to raise the bid to prevent the children from going to a brothel or to an equally disgusting environment ready to exploit young children.

    When it had been determined that he was now the proud owner of six-month-old twins, he was as shocked as he’d been when first he’d entered the smoke-filled backroom filled with tawdry, smelly Yorkshiremen. What was he to do with the children? There was no question of leaving them in situ, but he had no experience with children of any age.

    Lord Bagley had gone forward to speak to the auctioneer before he returned to Gabriel to suggest he pay rapidly. His inference was that the riff-raff around them could become aggressive.

    Whom do I pay? Gabriel asked between gritted teeth as he looked around.

    "That gentleman sitting over there," said Bagley nodding towards a scruffy, bearded ruffian whose top hat was the only suggestion that a whiff of a gentleman had come near to gracing this dump.

    He pushed his way through those insalubrious people he’d bid against and who were now resentful. The fact that he was injecting money into the system was what prevented him from being physically attacked. The owner of the auction room had two strongmen standing guard, because resentment went hand-in-hand with failure, and he wanted clients to feel secure enough that they’d return for future sales.

    Gabriel paid the price in gold guineas and left with each child in a burlap sack reeking of some type of oil. He didn’t wait for Bagley who had obviously returned to the cashier for a percentage of the sale. He wanted to be rid of the man and any association with him. Gabriel realised then, just how naïve he’d been on all counts. Taking the lord at face value and then being drawn into the auction. If he hadn’t been carried away with the bidding, he supposed that he wouldn’t have gone far without being robbed. Bagley might be a lord, but he was no better than the rest of the lowlifes. Birds of a feather flocked together.

    By the time he had taken a cab back to his rented lodgings, it was late and his landlady, Mrs. Fennimore, was retired for the night. The young children had gone to sleep in the bags due to the rocking motion, so, Mrs. Fennimore was not disturbed when they arrived. Gabriel was relieved that he would not have to tackle any problems with her until the morning.

    Brown, his valet, was waiting for him, but showed no surprise with the addition of two little ones accompanying him in sacks. He might have raised his eyebrows, but Gabriel had been too tired to notice. Not wishing to waste time, he’d asked his valet to find someone who could manage the children until he could arrange something more definite. Money was no question. Brown knew that. It made his life easier when doing business on his employer’s behalf.

    Gabriel was of a mind to find another home for the twins. He certainly didn’t intend to keep them, did he? His thoughts shifted to his wife who had died in childbirth only five months ago.

    They had both wanted children—but their own. Two purchased children were a whole different kettle of fish and it certainly hadn’t been a legal transaction, so he would do well to leave, with or without them, before he was found out.

    He reached for the bottle of whisky and uncorked it.

    No, not tonight. He needed to be clearheaded tomorrow. He squeezed the cork back into the bottle.

    ~Chapter 2~

    It had taken Gabriel a week to decide what measures to take.

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