London Gossip
Proverbs 31:28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.
Lord Ambrose laid down the two of trumps on the last trick and smiled. He and his three friends, all of his class, were in an upper room of his London club. He appreciated the quiet atmosphere, the almost invisible waiters, the exquisite furnishing of the room… and the completely unthreatening emotions of his compatriots.
Their conversation might be crude, invasive, and often discouraging… but they laid no claim to his heart. If he passed out of their life they would occasionally ask, “Where is Lord Ambrose? It’s been a dueced long time since he has shown up… but there would be no tears.
And somehow the thick fog in the streets outside made the interior of the club seem even safer.
“So, what is this we hear?” George asked, after he, too, had laid down his card. “You are married?”
“You hear correctly. I insisted on a small wedding, not having any desire for pomp, circumstance, and a royal visit. As the marriage of a duke would otherwise require.”
“To a fresh young thing? I hadn’t thought that your style.”
“The family insisted. The need for an heir and all that. My mother’s desire for grandchildren is boundless”
“What is she like? All giddy and gowns? Giggles nervously whenever she sees you?”
Lord Ambrose paused and put his cards down, looking reflectively. “The opposite, if anything… all books and brooks. And I am singularly fortunate that giggling, at least, is not one of her common modes of expression.”
“Books and Brooks? Whatever do you mean?”
“Whenever she is freed from her marital duty, she goes out and takes long rambles in the woods. And the first thing she asked of me was bookshelves in her rooms.”
“Intriguing. Is she at least enamoured of the title?”
“She has not said but I would guess not. She spends her days with an Irish lass born on the wrong side of the sheets.”
“Your sheets?”
“Don’t be silly. Her mother isn’t at all my type. But I did insist that she be hired so that rumour is prevalent. I scatter my own seed wide enough that I consider it my duty to care for the fatherless… since I already care for the widow.”
“How pious of you.” Francis said, smirking.
“That is another thing. Twice I have surprised her at her prayers.”
“Oho, so a pious blue stocking wood nymph. Is she obedient?
“More than I deserve. By far. It was evident from the first that she had heard of my reputation and disapproved of me root and branch. But besides the occasional tightening of the lips she has been a model of matronly virtue.
“A fortune will do that.”
“Perhaps. It did for her father. My family suggested the match to them quietly, and he agreed almost instantly. I didn’t see any reason to delay and rode down the weekend after it was agreed. Her mother was everything that was agreeable as well.”
“Well, if she isn’t into all of the privileges of being a duchess and wealth and all, what is her goal?”
“I assume children. Certainly, that is the normal female preoccupation.”
“But not the process by which one goes about getting children?”
“I think she is profoundly shocked by the process. These families raise their females to be naive.”
“Some of them, perhaps. Before I was married, I had several young ladies attempt to get me alone.”
“Ah, but would they have had any idea what to do if they had succeeded?”
“Well, they certainly acted like it. But, I will confess, my wife at least pretended to be ignorant of the process.”
“So she is cold, your nymph?”
Lord Ambrose snorted. “Not in the least. Her objection, not that she has ever stated it, seems to be theological. Or perhaps I should say moralistic, since she is too theologically astute to believe that coldness can have any Biblical basis. I heard her and her maid discussing the Song of Solomon the other day, and her theology was impeccable, while her voice clearly contradicted.”
“Aha. So she will be very unhappy you are gone.”
“Yes, I believe she will be. Oh, good play,” he said to his partner, who had found a difficult finesse. His friends, skilled in these matters, did not ask him why, then, he had come away.
Thank you for coming round Arthur’s Substack. I hope and pray it will be a blessing to you.
Arthur publishes with Wise Path Books and includes the children’s/YA books:
The Bobtails meet the Preacher’s Kid: A Christian historical fiction chapter book about four orphans who go to live with their aunt on a dairy farm.
The Bobtails and the Cousins: The sequel to Preacher’s Kid. The aunt has married, and the cousins come to visit. Meaning town kids dealing with chores and manure and…
The Bobtails go to France: The sequel to cousins. The Bobtails, and Preacher’s Kid, get to take a trip to New York, London, Paris, and a small town in France. To get some cheese.
and
No Ordinary School: A brilliant but socially clueless boy gets recruited for a special school. Where he makes a lot of money, gets a girl, and solves a mystery.
As well as GK Chesterton’s wonderful book, “What’s Wrong with the World”, for which ‘Arthur’ wrote most of the annotations. The book is a series of essays on how modern politics has gotten the wrong prescription for the wrong diagnosis.
Quite a few chapters of the Bobtails and No Ordinary School are here on this substack as audio.
I also write as Von, and I encourage you to check out that substack. There is a lot of theology and politics there, as well as quotes, poems, other articles, and links to other Science Fiction. But ‘Von’ also is publishing some serial books and stories. Much more adult and serious books than here, for the most part. Some of them.