"A Lonesome Lord" (Regency Romance), Ch. 01: An interrupted sojourn home, Rev January 22, 2023 by Gratiana Lovelace (Post #1507) (all rights reserved by Gratiana Lovelace; copyrighted 2023); [(1) Story Cover, above left]
Illustrations: I cast my stories as I write them. So from time to time, I will illustrate my story with actors or illustrations, including: Richard Armitage as Lord Pendleton MacKittrick, Justine Waddell as the widowed Corinne Carpenter, Noah Carpenter illustration, Bill Peterson as Dr. Finneas Lively, and others as noted.
Author's Notes: This original Regency romance is a work of fiction, and as such, any character names, scenes, locations, or other descriptions were made at the creative discretion of this author. And this is a gentle romance (G to PG-13), but with some frank discussions about love, marriage, and Regency society put to humorous effect. This is my disclaimer.
Chapter 01: An interrupted sojourn home
Lord Pendleton MacKittrick, now the fifth Earl of Woodbury, leans back into the luxuriously softly cushioned black leather squabs of his large shiny black enclosed carriage as he travels back home to his Woodbury Castle estates that is about a one and a half hour carriage ride into the near London countryside—about 7 miles in total, which is just an hour's carriage drive South to reach Richmond, England, then one heads further South for half an hour more into the forested countryside village of Woodbury, England.
And Lord MacKittrick [(2) above] quite uncharacteristically for young men of the ton sports a neatly trimmed full beard with mustache as a youngish man of 30 years—since most young men are clean shaven, the better to display their handsome visages. Yet for him, Lord MacKittrick views his beard as his armour, almost a mask of protection from unknown others seeking to form an acquaintance with him. And his eyes have a guardedness about them—despite his casual traveling attire, with his cravat stuffed into his jacket pocket for now. Afterall, he is the Lonesome Lord, as he was euphemistically dubbed by some sympathetic noble mamas hoping to matchmake their daughters with him.
And Lord MacKittrick's Earldom's seat is the ancient Woodbury Castle [& Estate] [(3ab) above], two miles West of the adjacent and small Woodbury village that he also owns. And Woodbury Castle's surrounding productive agricultural estate and Woodbury Village are a green and soothing oasis for Lord MacKittrick away from the frenzy and tussle of London—and the stress of politics and government now that Parliament is not in session for the Summer on this fine early morning of June the first, in the year of 1820. And he cannot wait to return to his peaceful enclave of calm and quiet that is his Woodbury Castle Estate—with its castle's ancient fortified stone walls, stained glass windows, and lush rolling landscapes bordered by heavily [wooded] forests.
Then suddenly Lord MacKittrick's musings of home are interrupted when he hears a dog's snarling bark, and his carriage horses' reactions of snorting and distressed whinnying before his carriage lurches to a halt along the side of a narrow lane on the outskirts of London. Though he is tossed about a bit, he is more concerned for his horseflesh.
Lord MacKittrick: "Coachman! What is detaining us? Are the horses alright?" For horses and dogs do not always mix [well].
His four footmen outriders close ranks and surround Lord MacKittrick's carriage—each carrying their Woodbury castle issued ancient but still working 1720's blunderbuss guns [(4)]. Given that Lord MacKittrick's parents and older brother were killed by highwaymen, they are always at the ready to protect him—especially if this roadside delay should this be an attempt to rob their lord. Though only a single shot weapon, the blunderbuss is short and loaded with metal pellets that spray a wide area due to the flared end of the short barrel. So the blunderbuss has injurious and often deadly consequences when employed—especially at close range.
Coachman: "My Lord, our horses are fine. The barking dog that first assailed them has now run up ahead. And there is a small wagonette up yonder tilted [over] onto its side, with goods strewn about on the ground-- what looks like a farmer going to or from market with their wares." What he does not say is that it looks to be a woman farmer with two small children, one still a babe at her breast and in a sling around her torso.
Opening his own carriage door, Lord MacKittrick athletically jumps down to the ground. [F]or as soon as he is out of London, he eschews the pomp normally attendant to his high rank as an Earl and he opens his own doors, dons his own shoes, and such. The Earl is soon flanked by two of his footmen outriders who have dismounted—while the other two footmen outriders remain with the horses.
Coachman: Lord MacKittrick's longtime coachman winces. "No need for your Lordship to be inconvenienced. The lads will see if they can assist the woman farmer."
At being apprised that the unfortunate person with the overturned wagonette is a woman, Lord MacKittrick whips his head around to view the dismaying scene of the wagonette accident.
Lord [MacKittrick]: "Well, I am here now. So keep my horses calm and I will ascertain what is needed."
So Lord MacKittrick strides the 10 yards over to the wagonette accident and sees that the single horse looks unharmed as one of his footman outrider's releases it from its small [wagonette] harness. The horse whinnies its appreciative thanks since it had been forced into an unnaturally twisted position when the wagon overturned. And the dog of indeterminant breed origins that had so growlingly barked at his horses to make Lord MacKittrick's carriage stop, now happily jumps around his horse companion, wagging its long tail in relief. So Lord MacKittrick hopes that they can swiftly have his footmen set the wagonette to rights and quickly send the woman on her way.
Then a little boy of maybe 5 or 6 years runs toward the overturned wagon's now freed horse.
Noah: "That there is my horsie, Mister! Leave her be!" The footman outrider looks on amusedly at the small boy trying to order him about, and he holds the horse still while stroking its neck to continue to calm it. The boy undeterred seeks reinforcements as he angrily stomps over to his Mama. "Mama! He has a hold of my horsie!"
To Lord MacKittrick's astonishment, the small boy hops up and down in agitation trying to get his young Mama's attention while furiously pointing at the footman outrider. But her focus is upon her baby daughter of only 9 months old that she carries in a sling about her shoulders and torso. The babe was jostled about when the wagon lurched in the overturn, and the baby does not like it one bit as she loudly wails her displeasure.
Baby Nancy: "Waaa! Waaa! Waaa!" Her crying continues unabated.
Corinne: "Shhh! Nancy, Dear. You are alright." The young mother coos and kisses her baby
daughter—soothing her a bit. But Corrine is uncertain if she is correct that her baby is alright. She is not a doctor and Corinne is worried that her baby might have been hurt when they fell out of the wagon as it turned over onto its side.
Corrine herself is banged up with bruises forming upon her arms and cheek—not to mention her sore backside. She thinks blessedly that at least her young son Noah seems unhurt. For Noah's usual response to him feeling unwell or in pain is to issue forth morosely quiet whimpering. But young Noah is in Mother protecting mode at the moment, and sets aside his pain.
Lord McKittrick comes upon the young mother and her children. Seeing that she is dressed in clean and tidy but plain fabrics of the common folk, he stills. Though he believes in the rights of men and women of all levels of society—which is quite progressive for his day—he has never really had to put that concept into practical application, as he will now.
