This is the thirteenth part of a fiction serial, in 802 words.
When Hope’s new baby arrived, the family celebrated as normal. The boy was small but healthy, and he was named Abraham Justin. The mop of black curly hair and vivid green eyes were never mentioned, and Justin appeared to take to the new arrival without a second thought.
But Arabella and Agatha were watching Hope much more closely now.
Then when suspicion among the servants was at its height, Fionn asked permission to marry Molly, the scullery girl. As everyone assumed that the girl was with child, the marriage was allowed, and the happy couple moved into the coachman’s lodgings above the stable block. Arabella was relieved, but still uncertain whether or not the marriage was a contrivance to divert gossip and suspicion about the coachman and Hope Dakin.
Percival was rarely at home back then, but at least his son was still proving to be a reliable student. And James was flourishing well at the military school, with excellent reports arriving about him on a regular basis.
News from London was that Percival was still flaunting his mistress with abandon, and trying to get in with the social circle around the Royal Court. With the king being mocked, and accused of all sorts of eccentricity and madness, the power game behind the scenes was busier than ever.
That summer, Justin consolidated his business interests by investing in some new inventions that were changing the weaving industry. For the first time, the Dakin family became involved in the cotton trade, and Justin decided to travel to the West Indies and the American colonies, where he would invest in plantantions in an effort to control his supplies. After a long family discussion, it was agreed that Arabella and Agatha would oversee the business during his absence, assisted by the family lawyer and bankers.
With the leaves beginning to fall, Justin said his farewells, and took ship to America.
The Dakin family was now left with only women in charge. Percival still took no interest in commercial matters, and Agatha hardly heard from him bar an occasional letter asking after the health of everyone.
If Hope was missing her husband, it didn’t show. With a nurse caring for little Abraham, she resumed her round of social visiting, always using the coach and four driven by Fionn. When James returned from school for the holidays, she showed little interest in his tales of military life, and failed to notice that he and Oscar no longer seemed to get on. With the other women of the house occupied with business, the two boys spent most of the holiday apart. Oscar sat studying in his room, while James rode around the estate on a fine pony bought for him by Justin.
Life for the Dakins carried on much as it always had.
When news arrived from America, they discovered that Justin had been very ill with a fever. Doctors there had told him it was the ague, and might return. By the time the letters arrived, Justin had recovered, and sent news of the purchase of a huge plantation in the southern colonies. But he also told of trouble there, with many colonial settlers unhappy with taxation and trade laws coming from England. He predicted that there might even be civil unrest. But he had already bought substantial amounts of cotton that was being sent back by ship, and the thought of disturbances affecting production meant that it could be sold at huge profits once it arrived.
Arabella wrote the necessary letters to deal with the distribution of the cotton to the new mills part-owned by the family, and after meetings with the lawyers, the expected income was expected to be vast.
Unknown to the family in Essex, things were going awry with Percival. He had made bad choices of contacts, and his expected favour at court had not happened. Then his young mistress left for a new and more influential lover, resulting in Percival taking to drink. He was usually to be found the worse for brandy most days, and there was talk around the regiment that he would be asked to resign. When he was unable to stand to take parade one morning, the colonel wrote to him requesting his resignation.
Disgraced socially in London, Percival returned to the family home. Agatha was shocked at the appearance of her husband. Bloated, slurring his speech, and drinking brandy at breakfast, she was only too pleased that he never asked to come to her room any longer. Arabella tried to speak to him, but he became reclusive and stayed in his study at all times. The servants would find him slumped in the chair, not even having bothered to change his clothes, or retire to bed.
He was fast becoming an embarrassment to the family.
There is always one in the family, eh? Well done, Pete.
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I try not to be that one in my family, but you never know. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Haha!
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(1) “Justin appeared to take to the new arrival without a second thought.” But he may eventually get fed up with Hope, as Isiah did with Clara. I’m not clara-voyant, but I sense trouble ahead. Justin’s hopeless marriage might end up being Hope-less.
(2) Molly O’Hara has the spunk of Maureen O’Hara and the spirit of Molly Brown. If need be, she’ll duke it out with Fionn in hopes of surviving a sinking marriage.
(3) What do Hope Dakin and a Naked Hopi have in common? One is an anagram of the other.
(4) Wait just a cotton pickin’ minute! Justin is off to America? I’m betting that in a hundred years or so, his descendants will be singing…
…..Let me tell ya a story about a boll weevil.
…..Now, some of you may not know, but a boll weevil is an insect.
…..And he’s found mostly where cotton grows.
…..Now, where he comes from, hmm, nobody really knows.
…..But this is the way the story goes…
(5) Justin was actually lovesick. According to Dr. Mont-Ague, he’d fallen for a lovely Capulet.
(6) Percival “had made bad choices of contacts.” Just think how many contacts he would have made if he’d had more than one arm!
(7) So now that Percival has resigned, he’s an arm-y of one.
(8) “The servants would find him slumped in the chair, not even having bothered to change his clothes, or retire to bed.” He should never have gotten hooked on Netflix.
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Nicely done with the Titanic, song, and Shakespeare references, David. And an anagram instead of a pun. Or was that a punagram?
Best wishes, Pete.
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Glad you are back and writing again. Percy will get his comeuppance, for that I’m sure.
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If not him, then you can be sure someone else will. 🙂 x
Best wishes, Pete.
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Having purchased at least one cotton plantation, the family has become slave masters. Warmest regards, Theo
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Yes, they have. Something that might feature in another chapter. 🙂
(Or perhaps not)
Best wishes, Pete.
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Brandy to the breakfast? 😉 Seems i have to try, too. 🙂 A new version of Martini-Espresso is born. Thank you for another great chapter, Pete! Best wishes, Michael
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Thanks, Michael. Brandy at breakfast might ease you through the day. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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:-)) In these days, indeed.:-))
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Oh, oh!
Drinking brandy at breakfast, not the best.
Great writing, Pete
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Thanks, Margie. Looks like Percival is heading for a fall. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Great chapter Pete…glad to have you back!
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Thanks very much, John.
Best wishes, Pete.
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My family was deeply involved in the cotton and fabric trade in the 1800’s, so I am especially interested as the series comes closer to that time period. My ancestors had dry goods stores in New York City and traveled back and forth to England frequently. My great uncle was born in Manchester, as was my great grandmother, though they were Americans.
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Glad to hear that the strory is catching up with your ancestors, Elizabeth. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I am afraid what other family secrets you may uncover, now that I know about “Mandingo!”
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Sounds like Percy is keeping a safe Social Distance of at least six feet and is self quarantined
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And he is able to sanitize with alcohol too, Don. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Some centuries too soon though. But the earlier they begin, the better.
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Can’t say I have a lot of sympathy for Percival.
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Me neither, Kim. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Good to return to the Dakins. Waiting for the next curse event! 🙂
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You lot want them to die, then tell me off when they do. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I know, 🤣🤣🤣
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Better than Downton Abbey, Pete!
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I could have had an old dowager with a sharp tongue, but that would be too ‘borrowed’. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Oh dear….
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Percival hitting the bottle. Doesn’t look too good for him. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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But a common enough issue….
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Percival can’t blame his situation on the family curse.
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Self-inflicted this time, GP. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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