A Regency Story... Part I

Lord Wexley stared out his window at nothing in particular. There was not much to gaze upon; after all it was a dreary October day with not a hint of sunshine. The garden that his study overlooked was showing evidence that it would soon be winter and everything would go dormant. How perfect the weather outside should reflect the pensive mood he currently felt…things would only grow bleaker. He solemnly turned from the view outside back to the decanter set with an excellent brandy ready to be consumed. He slowly poured a glass and swilled the amber liquid as he lazily gazed at the variety of color the fire in the fireplace cast and danced on the opposite wall. With a satisfied sigh as the liquid warmed him from the inside out, he allowed a moment of tranquility to wash over him. In the calm of the small and cozy study tucked in the back of his rather impressive country manor, Thomas could almost convince himself that he was enjoying a lazy autumn day. But alas, the illusion was only a thin veneer that was abruptly shattered as his furry companion lying curled by the fire in a deep and contented sleep became immediately alert and emitted a deep warning growl. Lord Wexley’s and the dog’s ears’ were both instantly perked and alert to a scuttling sound just outside the study door. Curious and attentive to the strange scratching and...was that grunting or snorting crossing the study and heading down the corridor? Odd that someone should be in this very private part of the home, since all guests were quartered in the west wing. Making his way to the door, Wexley gingerly turned the knob and poked his head out the door and craned his neck to the left, where he heard the bizarre sound fading down the passageway. Ah, the impish companion with Miss Hearnshaw’s fat, beastly dog. Who brought a dog to a house party anyhow? Wexley pondered this as he noticed the youngish woman turn around, seemingly lost in her trek to… god knew where. Clearing his throat in an obvious fashion to capture her attention, she crisply turned on her heel and nodded her acknowledgment. She swiftly headed back in his direction, with the beast, very much the leader of the two, excitedly and impatiently turning and leading the poor woman on this new mission.
As they loudly moved toward him, Lord Wexley inquired, “Are you enjoying a stroll with your dog Miss, or may I be of help in directing you someplace specifically?”
“Endicott.”
At his confused demeanor, she clarified, “Miss Endicott. That is my name. I am walking Miss Hearnshaw’s dog. She needs a bit of a walk Lord Wexley and I was attempting to find the lovely garden I viewed from her room.”
“Ah, I presume you mean the private family garden with the charming fountain at its center?” the viscount wryly inquired.
With an air of nonchalance, she waved a hand in the air and announced, “the exact same. If you could only point me in the correct direction, I may peacefully make my way.” This said as the round mongrel at her heels took stock of the lord of the manor and summarily hopped on its rather stunted hind quarters and smiled on him as if he were some sort of demigod, resting its equally stunted front legs on his calf.
“I dislike being the bearer of bad news, but I believe you are breaking all rules and deserting your rooms?” Wexley asked with irony laced in his voice.
“Sir?” was the only response.
Clearing his throat once more and lacing his fingers with the dog’s enormous ears, giving the swine great amounts of pleasure with his unknowing strokes, Wexley replied that, “indeed Miss … um… Endicott. We are all of us, incarcerated.”
Having focused all of her attention to the beast she had on a lead as it made its official olfactory acquaintance of him, Miss Endicott finally snapped her eyes to Lord Wexley’s .
“I understand Sir, that we are all to be sentenced to our rooms for an afternoon of an indeterminate interval, but there are needs only the outdoors can see to for my lady’s companion,” Miss Endicott replied without a moment’s hesitation and only a slight flush beginning to stain her cheeks. “So if you will only help me find my way, I was only hoping for a change of scenery with my duties these last several days. Afterward, Hastings and I plan to make our way immediately back to the guest quarters and safely back to where we can patiently await the questioning of the local magistrate. But I can promise you as a guest and a lady that neither Hastings nor I would ever presume to murder one of your staff for any reason.”
“Well”, Wexley thought and was about to reply in kind, when the battle of the beasts began, with the flash of something resembling his own well bred pointer dashed past him and the bread loaf of a dog with Miss Endicott began to tussle…

To be continued.