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Posted on Wed Jul 31st, 2024 @ 7:24pm by Lord Archibald Battersly & Lady Catherine Battersly & Lord Louis Battersly Earl of Marnemouth & Lord Fredrick Battersly & Lord Albert Eliot Baron Sconner & Lady Charlotte Duff & Lady Felicity Battersly & Mr Ralph Compton

2,487 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Death of a Monarch
Location: Drawing Room, Thrushstone Park
Timeline: February 5, 1901 - 1300 Hours

Archibald stared at the marble fireplace that was the centre piece of Thrushstone's Library. His eyes lost in the dancing flames. They had been home for a couple of hours now and Archie had been in and out of the Emerald Bedroom countless times. So much so that he had arranged to move to a bedroom at the other end of the house, far away from his Dressing Room and the Bedroom he had shared with his late wife.

Felicity had found it hard to enter her mother’s room and harder to leave it. She was sure she wouldn’t go in again, though; it would only continue to make her feel upset, the sting of loss pierced her the most when she had seen her mother lying there, looking so serene.

She’d washed her face and had a maid help to brush through her hair again so that she didn’t look too much of a mess before she headed downstairs to join her family in the library. In times like these, she thought it best to stay quiet. She sat on one of the couches and looked toward the fireplace. Of course time never stopped but Felicity felt like it should. How could they go forward from here? She felt more alone than ever, now that her mama was gone.

Fred had gone in to see his mother. He had been brave enough to kiss her hand. He had said a few private words, He assumed she was now in heaven. She had been a good woman, a kind one. There was no reason to worry she had ended up anywhere else. He detoured to his room and had Hawkins help him change quickly. "I have unpacked everything," the other man told him. "The rest of the family are waiting in the library." Fred nodded and wandered down,

Compton followed the youngest son of the family into the Library carrying a tray with some glasses on and a bottle of medicinal brandy.

Felicity turned towards the door as she saw her brother come in--it was comforting to have him nearby. To have all of the family together again--they would all have to draw strength from each other. She patted her eyes dry with a handkerchief and tried to take slow, deep breaths--that seemed to help her, for now.

"Your lordship, Your ladyship would you like some brandy? I thought it would settle any nerves and help with the shock. Also, the kitchens are ready to serve luncheon in the next 20 minutes. If people feel up to eating." The truth was he didn't know what they had had on the train, having been with the rest of the servants in third class.

"Ahh, none for me." His Lordship paused a moment. "I meant to send word down about lunch. It might be best to have it arranged for us to serve ourselves at our leisure." Archibald said. He knew that the short notice was an inconvenience, but that was the least of his worries. From his spot seated at the room's ornate desk, Lord Ribble took a look around. He had been trying to take some time to write to his wife's family, but every time he lifted his pen he couldn't find the words. Opting to set that task aside for the moment, he knew it was time to discuss the family's next steps and the arrangements to put the late Mary Battersly to rest.

"Yes your lordship. I will get that organised immediately," Ralph replied.

The Dowager Marchioness shook her head in response to Compton's question. In truth, the elder woman was waiting until lunch had passed so she could tuck in to a glass of her favourite vodka from her homeland. Nothing soothed her like a vodka with plenty of ice.

"Rodnoy." Catherine said, coming to stand near where her son was seated. She placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. To her, it looked like he needed to sleep. In her experience sleep was good for grief. When her husband, Archibald's late father, had passed Catherine didn't get out of bed for nearly three days.

Lord Ribble reached up to hold his mother's hand on his shoulder. He offered her a look as if to say 'there is much to do' before standing from the desk. "Obviously this wasn't exactly how any of us saw today proceeding when we boarded the train in London, especially considering what we were returning from." He cleared his throat. "Nevertheless, this is the situation we find ourselves in..." His voice trailed off.

The Dowager Lady Ribble nodded along as her son spoke. "Though we're filled with sorrow and dread, we must press on." Catherine's voice shook ever so slightly. "Now, more than ever, we need to stay on one accord. It won't be easy, but it is necessary." The Russian woman was no stranger to death, having buried her mother and infant sister when she was only 9 years old, a brother when she was 15, and of course her lord husband.

Conversation had subsided for a moment while Compton made his rounds with refreshments. Archibald cast a sideways glance towards his writing implements and then rubbed his temple.

"I'll take a brandy Compton," Fred said reaching over and grabbing a glass.

This remark from Fredrick caught the attention of Lord Ribble. It felt as though they'd spoken about his youngest son's drinking just days before, and now the issue was once again rearing its head. Archibald took a deep calming breath and then looked to his older son and heir, Louis. silently requesting he keep an eye on the matter.

Louis had moved away from the others, preferring a quiet spot in the library for the moment. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts and, as he liked to call it, “properly stow everything.” What he really wanted to do was take a walk and smoke, but he knew Father expected him to be here, now. He’d spent a few moments saying goodbye to his mother, but now, he knew it was time to move forward. His mother would have been the first person to admonish them for mourning her. He resolved to show strength and determination from then on.

The discussion between his father and Mr. Compton brought Louis out of his reverie. He frankly couldn’t have cared less about food at the moment. He also realized that some people needed normalcy to grasp onto in situations like this. Louis glanced at Felicity and then at Fred. Both seemed to be holding themselves together reasonably well under the circumstances.

And then Fred had taken Mr. Compton up on his offer of a brandy…

Louis saw the look from his father and instantly felt the sting of his rebuke at the train station earlier. It was becoming clearer that Louis was expected to be his brother’s keeper. Nothing more, nothing less…

Louis sighed irritably, moved to Fred’s side, and took the brandy snifter from his brother’s hand. He took a healthy swallow of the warm, amber liquid, stared his brother down, and then handed back the nearly empty snifter.

“Now’s not the time, old boy,” he said quietly.

"Evidently it is for you brother," Fred said a little waspishly watching his brother down his drink. Was he not allowed to numb his feelings? He had just lost his mother. Apparently not it seemed. He glared at Louis and headed over to a chair plonking himself down.

Felicity frowned, looking over at her brothers. This wasn't the time for a quarrel, even if Father was partly right in limiting Fred's alcohol intake--at a time like this, why shouldn't Fred have a drink if he wanted? She could do with something herself. She gave her twin a sympathetic smile. "Compton, could I have a cup of tea? And perhaps a tray of biscuits, Frederick could use something to eat." It helped her to feel better to think of things like that, simple things like taking tea.

Compton nodded. "Of course Lady Felicity."

The butler made his way out of the room and down to the kitchen.

"Trying to fatten me up won't work," her twin said deciding to be amused at her efforts. "I eat plenty and well we just have the Battersly genes. I think its from Grandmama's side of the family you know."

Felicity gave her brother a small smile. He could be right, but he did seem rather thin these days. "Well, having an extra biscuit or two never hurt anyone." She didn't want him to feel slighted by Louis, even if that had been her older brother's goal, taking away Fred's drink like that seemed like overkill to her, especially at a time like this.

As they arrived at Thrushstone Park Charlotte admired the home. She had heard of it from Felicity but had never had the chance to come visit, in spite of her friend's many requests. Now it seemed her stay might be far shorter than she intended. One of the servants showed Charlotte to her room, a guest suite that was far nicer than she had expected. Taking off her hat she sighed with the exhaustion that comes from being surrounded by sadness. Daphne was already in the room and had begun to unpack.

“I wouldn’t make too much headway. I don’t imagine we will be staying. At a time like this the last thing they need is to have a stranger lurking in their hallways. Perhaps a few days and then we will travel back to Mar Dun.” Daphne nodded her head as she laid out a dress for her lady to change into.

Soon her stomach was rumbling with hunger pains and she slipped downstairs in search of lunch. Moving like a ghost along the halls not wishing to disturb any of the members of the house in their time of mourning. Charlotte passed by the library hearing the murmur of voices inside but not wishing to intrude.

"I had word sent to Miller and Keye Mortuary when we got back, they should be here later this afternoon to..erm.. set to their work." Archibald's eyes fluttered slightly. "I'm going to take a walk down to the village tomorrow and speak with Mr.Rookwood at St. Ignotus. " He drew a shallow breath. "Louis, my dear boy, I'd like you to come with me, and cousin Albert too." Lord Ribble offered a sympathetic look towards his late wife's nephew. he wanted to be sure to include him, and by extension Mary's family, in the planning of everything.

Albie, looking pensively down at the ground, had struck a match and was preparing to light his pipe. He paused at Archibald's request. "Of course, Uncle." And he waved out his match without lighting his pipe. Albert was doing as much as he could to look a pillar of strength despite a willowy build. He turned to Louis. Perhaps a walk would do them all well, when the time came. Within, Albert still felt the incessant drifting, a severing of sorts, and he was still staring in shock at the stump.

Louis nodded dutifully to his father’s request. In the back of his mind, he had a strong suspicion that he was due for a rebuke of some sort. Louis had no doubt that he would be informed that he had acted a bit rashly, downing Fred’s brandy as he had. But, in Louis’s mind, drinking the brandy had accomplished two things: one, it had removed the drink from his brother’s reach - so to speak - and two, it had shown his father, Louis hoped, that Louis wasn’t Fred’s wetnurse.

“Yes, Father,” Louis answered simply. He’d used the exact same voice and intonation when he’d been given orders he had to carry out but didn’t care for them.

The Dowager Lady Ribble, having returned to her seat near her son, nodded along. "Felicity, I would appreciate if you and Fredrick would come with me to speak with the estate gardeners in the morning." She kept her voice even and calm. She placed her hands on her lap, a comforting habit formed from petting her much loved Pomeranians, Mishka and Pavel. "I think it best if, at least for the foreseeable future, I move back into the main house, to help in the running of things. You can both help me with arranging that tomorrow."

Felicity didn't know if she was more relieved or concerned at the thought of having Baba Katya in the house, but maybe it would be a good thing. She knew Papa would draw on her Baba's strength, and that would be good. And it would be good to have another woman in the house, someone to talk to after everyone left. She nodded. "I'll do whatever you think is best, Baba." She blinked back tears that were coming despite her trying not to cry. She just couldn't believe that her mother was truly gone, that she'd never have her mother's advice to guide her steps again. She felt so lost--she was grateful her grandmother was helping her find some kind of purpose in it all.

"Of course Grandmama," Fred said leaning forward. "It will be comforting to have you in the house. How ... ermmm I was wond ..... how do ...... nevermind," he stopped himself. What he was about to ask may not be appreciated or appropriate right now. Perhaps he should seek her out later one on one.

Catherine smiled warmly at her younger grandchildren. "I'll stay at home tonight and have Knight make the appropriate arrangements for my relocation and my babies as well." She was already planning to speak with Mrs.Price to arrange a bedroom before she left Thrushstone this day. "Come to the Dower House after breakfast and we will make our plan from there."

Fred nodded as Compton returned with a tea tray. The young Butler placed it down on the table next to where Fred was sitting and poured a cup for Felicity. "Your ladyship?" He walked up to the Dowager blocking them from view. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"I would, as would Lord Ribble I should think." The Dowager replied, her eyes fixed on the young servant.

Fred mentally calculated. Even Louis and his father had their attention away in conversation with their cousin Albie. In a flash he had whipped out his a small hip flask and quickly took a sip. Then poured a decent measure into Lees's tea cup.

"Shssssh," he whispered popping his finger to his lips. Just as quickly he popped it back in his inside pocket. 'Take that Louis!' He thought, reaching over for a biscuit deciding he better eat one or he had hours of Lees trying to coax him to ahead.

 

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