Demon And Demeanour. Book 4 Of Poacher's ProgressChapter 6: Yellowbellies free porn video
The thought of Becky and Shelley engaging in ‘rascality’ had my demon spitting and screaming inside me.
‘You have no choice but to cut off his nugs. He has debauched your sister, and family honour demands you seek out the scoundrel and dispatch him.’My demon was right, but there was scant chance of finding Shelley in Lincolnshire, where I was bound. Horse Guards had sent a letter to Lincoln Castle notifying the garrison commander of my imminent arrival.
An escort would be dispatched to meet me in Grantham, and then accompany me to Lincoln.
Before taking the stagecoach to Grantham I visited MI6 for information concerning the whereabouts of Becky or Eloise de La Zouche. Stafford had none of either, but did inform me Lord Wycombe had met with a fatal accident not long after being questioned regarding his knowledge of Metzendorf’s Lecher’s Club, and the import of Satan’s Breath into England.
“Fortunately, before his untimely death, he furnished us with a list of British members of the club, and they are all now under investigation, with any ‘rotten apples’ being referred to the Relocation Bureau. It appears Metzendorf was in England to ascertain the market for Satan’s Breath, and was handing out free samples, although anyone wanting more would need to pay the hefty price of five guineas a wrap. Obviously, Satan’s Breath is a luxury item, which the hoi polloi will never be able to afford. Now Metzendorf is no more the cartel of rich and influential men behind the enterprise will need to appoint a new distributor. Wycombe would have been a likely candidate, had he not fallen from his horse and broken his neck at the Boxing Day meet of the Chiltern Hunt.” He smiled grimly. “It was only to be expected. However, his demise does diminish the threat of Satan’s Breath being imported into the country, and hopefully the commodity never will find a market on these shores.”
As I was leaving Scotland Yard I bumped into Patrick Jayne-Braithwaite. He first expressed his deep sympathy over the loss of my family and then informed me Matilde was pregnant.
“Zinnia wrote to me telling of the horrific events at Hungerford Hall, but as Matilde is due to give birth in three weeks’ time I have not yet given her the tragic news. She was very close to Caroline, and I feared learning of Caroline’s death may be detrimental to her health, and to the child she carries. I will break the sad news to her after she has given birth.” Patrick looked at me with some concern. “You understand why I have kept the news from her?”
I nodded, and congratulated him and Matilde. They would make excellent parents, and I was happy for the pair of them. I tried, and failed, not to think of Caroline and my unborn child.
I spent the rest of the day shopping for gifts for family and friends in Grantham, as well as for extra clothing and equipment for myself.
Thus I had too much luggage to take onto a Royal Mail coach and instead booked an inside berth on a Ferris stagecoach, the same firm who had conveyed me — part way — to Manchester, and ultimately the ‘Peterloo Massacre’.
The extra day spent travelling to Grantham gave me time to consider more fully what being the lieutenant colonel of a regiment entailed. I had commanded a company easily enough, but a regiment is a different kettle of fish, and I had no experience at that level of command, other than observing first Sir Edmund, and then Sir Frederick, Bywaters commanding the 2nd/69th Foot.
In any event, a regiment of Militia is a different animal than a regular army battalion. In the first place Militiamen are not volunteers — although making the choice to serve in the regular army rather than being hanged is not ‘volunteering’ in the strictest sense of the word — and given the choice of enlisting in the army or transportation men usually chose the latter.
Men conscripted for the militia were chosen by ballot, allowing for fraud, corruption, and ballot rigging.
Those chosen were allowed a substitute to serve in their place, provided they had the wherewithal to afford a replacement. Militiamen only served for three years; which gave them the basics of soldiering but not the depth of skill that comes with constant practise. The Militia only served within the confines of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, which generally meant Ireland, as dissent and rebellion has simmered in the island over many decades — in fact over many centuries.
Elouise
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