Dynasty And Destiny; Book 6 Of Poacher's ProgressChapter 5: A Journey To England free porn video
After some early misgivings Mimi had finally agreed to us renting or buying a property in the Grantham area and enrolling Jean–Woodrow at The King’s School. As yet we had not travelled to England as Mimi was adamant that until our twin girls were fully weaned they would not be exposed to coach or sea travel. Thus, it was not until May of 1826 that the family set out for England. During the preceding two years I had kept in touch with my sister and the Slades, and Zinnia was searching the area for suitable accommodation for us to rent, or buy, when we arrived in Grantham.
Chloe and Armand, with their son Marcel, visited Blanchards frequently, keeping us ‘country cousins’ up to date with all the news of Paris. Both Chloe and Armand were politically active, and it appeared Chloe was the more radical of the pair. Paris, always a hot bed of political strife, was in turmoil, and I would wager that Madam et Monsieur Garibaldi were at the centre of the vortex. King Louis XVIII, who had been near to death in July 1824 finally died in September of that year. His brother Charles was expected to succeed to the throne, but there were factions within the political establishment who favoured Fat Louis’s cousin, the Duc de Orleans, as the next King of France.
Chloe and Armand were supporters of the latter’s claimant, although, as Chloe said in a voice tinged with bitterness. ‘Orleans is only the best of a bad lot – they are all Bourbons – and I expect any liberties promised will be revoked once the chosen claimant gets his fat cul firmly on the throne.’
Callum Keane, now serving in the British Embassy in Amsterdam as military attaché, was also a frequent visitor. He continued to have his fabric wefted and warped by the trio of weaving sisters in Wallers, but he was not averse to trying other crafts and trades at the hands of other comely females.
I harboured the suspicion he was also improving his academic knowledge with Julianna Hainaut, and have no doubts that he came top of the class. When not wefting and warping, or working his way through Julianna Hainaut’s curriculum, he stayed in the château. His many amorous exploits were maintained by use of the potion he had developed in Missolonghi. When needing an extra boost he would disappear into the château kitchen and teach some of the kitchen maids - although I noted Claudette was always present, and she certainly was no kitchen maid - how to prepare a quantity of the elixir. A bottle of the potion would keep him firm and priapic for several months, or until his next visit. He would sometimes hand me a bottle or two, not that I required my libido to be boosted as much as his. Mimi was ample stimulant herself.
“When I reach London I shall contact Sir Boris Crossley and suggest he try a bottle or two of your potion, Callum,” I said.
“The bottles given you are for whatever use you decide.”
“Boris is a senior partner in a company named XTC, and stimulating the clientele of its Pleasure Domes would greatly increase the revenue, and you would also reap a monetary reward.”
“Ecstasy? That’s a rum name for a commercial enterprise.”
I explained the commodity that XTC, the Xanadu Trading Company, traded in, and how it maintained its considerable revenue.
“You think Boris might want a supply of my potion for XTC, Jack?”
“I will give him a bottle and suggest he use it the next time he visits Somerset for the Archangel ceremony.”
“Somerset? Archangel?” Callum said in surprise.
“Boris has to deflower several young women in the execution of his duties. He is not a young man, and having his performance boosted by the potion would be greatly appreciated by him.”
Callum rubbed his chin. “I am soon to leave Amsterdam. I cannot say more than that, you know how it is. I may be out of contact with you, Boris, and even London, for some time. You may certainly allow Boris to sample the potion, but I will not use my gift to make myself, or the shareholders of XTC, rich.”
He laughed at the incredulity showing on my face at his reply.
“My aunt was a Wise Woman of the wood, and she taught me not only the secrets of plants, shoots, leaves, herbs, and fungi, but also to regard the gift as God given, and not to be used for purely financial gain. I make the potion to assist me and my friends to have a full and physical union with their lovers. Those girls I trained at Blanchard’s to produce the potion also believe as I do.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Fair enough, Callum. I will not speak of the matter again, although I am certain Boris will appreciate a bottle.”
Mimi and I, and the children, left Chateau Blanchard bound for Calais on the 14th of May,1826. We could have made for Ostend, which is a similar distance by road, but would entail a longer sea passage. Mimi was concerned the girls and Jean- Woodrow might succumb to seasickness, and therefore chose the shortest crossing. We were accompanied by Claudette; now the twins were fully weaned she acted as their nursemaid and Mimi’s ladies’ maid, and was regarded as a member of the family.
The safety and security of Château Blanchard and its residents had been left in the safe hands of the steward Francois Truffaut and his trusty assistant Joseph Hainaut. The measures installed to thwart any attack on the château, after receiving the unwelcome ‘birthday gift’ from Eloise de La Zouche, were maintained. The main gate, together with the postern gate, bolted and barred at night; men trained in the use of firearms, and the cackling, squawking, night guard of a flock of geese, were enough to warn, delay, and fend off any attack like the one launched by Ashby de La Zouche that had resulted in the death of Annette Blanchard.
Incidentally, I received ‘birthday present’ on my thirty sixth-birthday from Eloise de La Zouche. This also made veiled threats to me and my family, and I fully expected the same for succeeding birthdays. I was not disappointed.
I was handing down Mimi from the carriage on the quay at Calais when I heard a familiar voice.
“Jack Greenaway, with a beautiful young woman by his side. Nothing changes with you!”
Amy, Countess of Monmouth, seized me around the waist and gave me a warm kiss full on my lips.
“Who is your attractive companion, Jack,” she asked, “and whose are those adorable little girls?”
The twins had followed their mother from the carriage and were now staring wide eyed at Amy, who was dressed in the latest Parisian fashion and holding the hand of a young boy. Two older children, a boy and a girl, stood beside her.
I made the introductions, and both females gave each other a swift but all-encompassing and calculating look.
“Where did you get such a chic hat, Mimi? You French girls are always so modish.” Amy said, her smile genuine, as were her comments.
Mimi blushed in pleasure, and then complimented Amy on her ensemble. Within minutes both females were talking as if they had been friends for years, swapping stories of millinery, haute couture, and children.
I had a great sense of relief that the two girls had made such a swift friendship. Mimi knew Amy had once been my lover, and it is always a tense moment when wife and former lover meet.
Amy’s husband, Howard Hughes, Viscount Monmouth, sauntered over and was introduced to Mimi. Jean–Woodrow had struck up a conversation with the Monmouth’s eldest boy, so Hughes and I left the females and children to their own devices and sought out berths on the next packet boat leaving for Dover.
It was a calm crossing, and Mollie and Caroline, doubtless wearied by the carriage ride, fell asleep before our vessel the ‘Maid of Kent,’ had left harbour. Mimi, Amy and Claudette sat quietly talking, Jean–Woodrow was in deep conversation with the Monmouth’s eldest son, whom I judged some six months older then Jean–Woodrow. I joined Howard Hughes up on deck, and for a spell we gazed at the rolling grey blue waves of the English Channel.
I broke the silence by asking Hughes if he and his family were returning from Florence, Firenze.
“No, we only visit Firenze every three years or so.” He gave a wry smile. “All three of our children were conceived in that beautiful city, Michelangelo on our honeymoon in eighteen sixteen, Florence in eighteen nineteen, and David in eighteen twenty one. I think three children are enough so will dissuade Amy from visiting Firenze again. Fortunately, she is just as enamoured with Paris, which is where we have been staying for the past two months,” he sighed, “although I fear the City of Love is heading for a disaster due to the hostility engendered by the failure of Charles to implement the reforms he promised before ascending the throne.” He allowed me time to let that thought settle in my mind, and then said something that shook me rigid.
Alma
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