The End and The Beginning Part 3

Posted on Sun Jun 23rd, 2024 @ 12:50pm by Lord Archibald Battersly & Lord Fredrick Battersly & Lady Catherine Battersly & Peter Stone & Lord Louis Battersly Earl of Marnemouth
Edited on on Thu Aug 8th, 2024 @ 10:19am

1,354 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Death of a Monarch
Location: The Dining Room, Thrushstone Park
Timeline: 23 January 1901-0730 Hours

“My God. We all suspected it was only a matter of time, but still.” Archibald Battersly set the newspaper aside and reached for his coffee cup. He took a long, thoughtful sip. “I ought to write to Bertie… or rather His Majesty, to offer him our condolences.” The Marquess nearly smiled at having to correct himself. In truth he and the former Prince of Wales had formed some kind of friendship, Lord Ribble served as a member of the former Prince’s household for some time. In the recent months, with the news of Queen Victoria’s illness, the two had regrettably drifted.

Louis made his way into the dining room and saw the family arrayed before him. He noted the lack of usual conversation,had a quick, hushed word with the footman about his breakfast and then made his way to his usual seat. He used the moment of silence to prepare his morning tea, a ritual rooted in Louis’s time in the Natal, and then looked to his father.

“Should I have additional staff sent to Ribble House to prepare, Father,” Louis asked after a moment, nodding to the front page of the paper.

“I asked a footman to run down to the village and have a telegraph sent to the Housekeeper in London, though I’m sure she expects we’ll be coming.” The Marquess said, spreading marmalade on a slice of toast. “Since we won’t be entertaining while we’re there it’s best to keep staffing light.” He lifted the toast to his mouth and took a small bite.

“After breakfast we must all change. The entirety of the country will be in mourning and we must set an example.” Lord Ribble took another quick bite followed closely by a sip of his coffee. “I expect the funeral will be at Windsor,we can begin to make arrangements for the Valets and other staff we need to bring.”

Louis dutifully listened as his father outlined the family’s plans. He didn’t exactly cherish the thought of mourning clothes, but he understood the family's responsibility in wearing them. He also understood that he would be looked upon at this time by outsiders and insiders alike. When his father caught his eye, Louis made sure to nod his understanding of his father’s instructions.

“Unless you think it inappropriate, Father, I plan on wearing my dress uniform for the funeral,” Louis said after swallowing a mouthful of strong morning tea.

Archibald nodded. “I expect you won’t be the only one.” His hand still grasped the handle of his coffee cup while it rested on its saucer. “I’m certain that the King would appreciate a good show of servicemen.” He tried to push his lips into a smile but they wouldn’t budge.

Freddie joined them at the table having piled his tray high. Now he was awake he was hungry. “Is there anything I can do to help, father?” he offered, knowing it was unlikely.

“To help?” Lord Ribble’s forehead creased at the question. He lifted his cup to his lips and allowed himself a sip of his hot coffee. He shook his head. “I’m afraid there’s not much to do now, but wait.”

Louis noted the look on his father’s face. He knew his mother was facing a prolonged illness that was serious. He also recalled that his father had been a member of the King’s staff when he’d been the Prince of Wales. Louis took another sip of tea and realized he wasn’t sure which situation was vexing his father more. He resolved to find some time alone with his father to talk about everything. He wouldn’t want to pry, but he also wanted to make sure his father realized Louis was available.

Louis finished his breakfast and gazed thoughtfully out the dining room window overlooking the grounds. He didn’t have much on his formal agenda for the day. However, a ride across the grounds might be nice. But then again, he wasn’t sure if Father would need him to prepare the staff or the family to make the trek to London.

The doorbell chimed. It was uncommon for visitors to come this early, unless arranged. As Peter departed the dining room to answer the door, Archie searched his mind for any appointments he may have made but found none.

After a moment of anticipation, the dining room door opened and Peter stood straight just inside the room. “The Dowager Marchioness.” He announced a moment before the Russian woman, already dressed in black complete with a lace veil, burst into the room. She lifted the lace, allowing it to cascade down her back.

“Archibald, rodnoy.” Her voice still clung to her native accent, though I was decidedly less pronounced as when she had first arrived at Thrushstone Park. She crossed from the door to where her son, Lord Ribble, was seated.

Archibald rose to greet the Dowager. “ Mama.” He hated when she spoke Russian, it only served as a reminder to many that she was anything but English. He kissed her cheek.

“I have only just stopped crying.” Catherine said, keeping a firm grip on her son’s arms. “What a sorrowful day!” She exclaimed, seeming for a moment that she would burst into hysterics, instead she maintained her composure.

Freddie stood up politely and went to greet her also. “Grandmama,” he said, simply copying his father and kissing her cheek.

The elder woman. “Fredrick.” She patted his shoulder consolingly. “Darling you look thin. Eat darling, eat.” Typical enough for any maternal figure to say, though it did have a sprinkle of genuine concern to it.

Louis stood from the table as his Grandmother entered the room. He followed his father’s example of greeting her with a simple kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, Baba Katya,” he gently said in Russian. In truth, his knowledge of Russian was only a few phrases that she’d taught him when he was younger.

Catherine smiled warmly at Louis. “My darling boy.” She held the hand of her eldest grandchild. “ I was planning to come and check on your dear mother, but the day's news hastened me. We will need a plan for the funeral.” She spoke earnestly.

Louis nodded dutifully at his grandmother’s suggestion. He knew that his father was the unequivocal head of the house, but sometimes Baba Katya made things happen.

Archibald had resumed his seat, and lifted his coffee cup once again to sip. “You’re absolutely right.” He took a final bite of his toast. “Mama, you go visit with Mary, I’m certain she’d love to see you.” He stood from his seat. “Felicity, should be upstairs as well.” Lord Ribble nodded to the boys. “When you’re both finished eating and changed, I’ll be in the Library and we can settle our plans then.” He started towards the dining room door. Peter quickly opened it.

Louis turned back to the table and cast a sidelong glance at his remaining tea. However, he was quite certain he didn’t have the time to finish the cup. Instead, he followed his father’s example and left the dining room. He paused at the stairs, arguing internally for a moment to continue on to the library but then turned and made the journey back upstairs to his room.

Freddie stayed back and stuffed down his bacon and eggs. His grandmama had told him to eat after all and who know when their next meal would be travelling. As usual his father and brother had everything in hand and he was probably useless. He had a head for figures and mathematics having just returned with very high marks but doubted that skill would be required in all this.

Finally having watched his brother not drink his drink, Fred drank his coffee then moved to join them both in the small library. He supposed one of the perks of being the second son is he could have more time and less responsibility.

 

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