it is i the inner child bak for x-mas i may hav bene gone but i hav bene good. i told my outer adult that it was me or poelish klasses and wat did she do? so blame her. evryone knos how i feel abowt skool! howevr it is a tym of goodwill and pees to all men ect. so i am bak to spred the joj of me and tell you wat happened with proodens and wats his name. besyd look wat serafik has desended to: z's all over the plaice komplete giberish lyke szczgolnie and mayd up letters with tales on. obveeouslie she is desprate! so i am bak and i hope santa tayks that into konsiderashun becos if i doant get my it-bag for x-mas i will skreem and skreem.
ok so probablie you are lost regarding the plot i kno i am. therefor i will ryte a preeambel and then stik up the last chaptr befor i kontinoo. by the way this is dedikated to notburga my #1 #fan and sekondarilie sum nagging nuns hoo shud be thinking of heyer things. rofl.
it is abowt 1810 or whatevr and ther is a huose kalled grunestane wich meens green stone and it has some aristos in it hoos desendents will no dowt lose it in the 20th senturie becos of deth duties taxashun is theft. howevr rite now it is grate to be an aristo at leest in skotland and england not frans of course lol. it is betr tho in rusha and polan you cud have slavs. anyway this is a polish free storie i am at a loss at my outer adult muttering 'o litwo!' lyk that meens somthing.
so ther is a girl naymed proodens and she is beeootiful and she has a father lord grunestane and he is beeootiful too. her mother is not beeootiful but klever. lord grunestane has a best freind named hewbert. he is a skottish episkopaleean clergie man. all thees aristos are skottish episkopalians aka pixies x-sept for the english karacters hoo of corse are anglikans. the servants are presbies or katholic, of corse. then there is also klementyne hewberts sister she is wikked. o dere maybe a list is in ordr:
lady proodens pewsey--heroine v. pretty loves elefants must be married off as is 17
sir charles pewsey earl of grunstane--her father, a komposer & church organist as well as aristo, a v. kindlie and innosent man much lusted after as he is so handsom even at 40.
mademoiselle blanche--proodens governess not so important reely
lady hermione pewsey countess of grunstane--proodens mother, devoted wife of charles, bloostoking and fat.
the rev the hon hewbert robinson -- best friend of sir charles, pixie minister he thinks he is a preest tho
sir henry robinson, earl of i forget--hewbert's venial but afekshunat brother
clementyn dowager duchess of paisley--herbert's very beeotiful but wicked sister she lusts over charles horriblie and plots to steel him from his wife. kurrentlie she has got hewbert in her clutches he is very sick from a duel with charles and clementyn has been killing him with neglekt
sir nikk cameron--hewberts cousin he is v. handsome and luvs older laydies like my outer adult only fatter he is lusting after lady hermione and so is in cahoots with clementyn who wants sir charles altho nikk dosnt kno that. clementyns reputayshun is perfekshun x-sept with her brothers. all hewberts relayshuns are wikked no wonder his piety is so x-treem. anyway evryone wants him to marry proodens.
sharlot blackie--loyal servant to hewbert & only wumman on staff as hewbert until reesentlie a horrible misogynist! currently locked in clementyn's attik with the rest of hewberts staff. roomered to be charles natchural daughter but reely it was his grandpa
mr angus--hewberts valet/butler
mrs harvey--clementyn's henchwoman/laydiesmaid
vareeos servants and aristos like the whole cameron familie hoo are hewberts cuzzins plus the elderly major-general with a crush on proodens, laydy jersey the prins rejent mistress and also the prins rejent and his vareeous brothers.
by the way i shud stayt that i have not seen downton abbey. my outer adult saw one epeesod and hated it so much she never watched it agane. ther was an attempted rayp or something horrid rite in the first epeesod and homie dont play that sed serafik.
ok so now you wil get some preevious chapters and wen they finish i will ad some new ones. it will be lyke a x-mas prezent for notburga and those nuns who arent alowed the internet so serafik will hav to print and mayl it.
how noos of the skandalous kontest between the erl of grunestayn and a skottish deevyn took hold and spreed lyk a contaygion thru out the fashionable wirld is a mistrie. the partisipants and the spektaytors--gentle or common--had sworn themselvs to sekrecie and yet many of them fownd themselvs the objekts of increesing curiositie and serching hints. that ther had bene a dewl was absolootelie sertane--but wat the ton did not kno was wy. the rumor that the affair of honor had been interrupted by the erls own doter seemed to shed sum lyt on the dark korners of motiv.
'they tell me' sed lady jersey to lady cameron in the latters ormulu droring room 'that the girl hurtled to her lovers rescew in a coach-and-4.'
'my dear lady jersey' sed lady cameron twisting the ends of her shawl in her hands 'the depths to wich sosietie will sink to unseet an innosent girls repewtayshun will never sees to amayz me.'
her cheeks were very pink. as the wyf and mother of the earl of grunestayns seconds she had attayned a popewlaritie unpresidented in her kareer. if onlie it had been for some other reeson! day after day and nite after nite a growing akwaintans demanded--subtlely but in-xorablie--to kno wat she knew. and despyt her n-treeties her husband refewsed to tell her the hole other than to say that brat of hers wud hav them all in the basket. it wud apeer that fixing nikolas intrest with laydie proodens and her forchoon wud not be plane sayling after all. but she had not lost hart and hoaped that her unflagging defens of the girl wud in tym meet the ryt eers.
lady jersey pondered lady camerons pink cheeks and twisting hands and felt the cats thrill upon finding yet another muose hole.
'sertanley i hav always thot laydie proodens a sweet chyld' she sed cashuallie 'if a tryfle too well-read. they tell me that she is bekoming qwite an authoritie on indiyan trayd--or perhaps on those in hoos perveiw indiyan trayd has been.'
lady cameron flushed deeper.
'i kollekt you meen major-jeneral lytton' she replyed 'yes i understand that they are the best of freinds but of corse lady jersey you cud not imajin that lady proodens wud be bedazzeled by such an old man--or any older man. she is the veriest chyld. and she has her own forchoon you kno so his does not signifie.'
'indede not' sed lady jersey 'tho i wonder if my lord grunestayn wud agree. they tell me major-lytton was his second after all. an unushual choys.'
'was he?' asked poor lady cameron. 'im afrayd im very stupid abowt such matters. but i kan tell you that ther is no lasting n-mity between the erl and my husbands poor cuzzin for i do kno--or hav been krediblie informed--that the erl brot hewbert to her grace in his own town carrij.'
'at his doters behest i am told.'
'hevens' sed lady cameron with a fritened titter 'charles grunestayn allowing himself to be told wat to do by his own doter! wat will peeple say next i wonder! and as for cuzzin hewbert the ideeya that he may hav fixxed his interest with a yung chit of a girl owt of the skoolroom simplie beggars beleef. i do not mynd telling you lady jersey that my husbands cuzzin holds our n-tyr sex in avershun. indeed tho i hav rayked my branes over and over agane and all but begged my husband on bended knee to tell me i cannot shed lyt on wat the kwarrel was abowt. depend upon it ther is no laydie at the hart of this mistry. hot words over drink--that is my best hypothesis--hot words almost immeediatlie regretted. cuzzin hewbert is a hot-tempered man he fot cowntless dewls at oxford over matters theologikal.'
'hmm' sed lady jersey 'from wat i kno of lord grunestayn and hav herd of the honorubel hewbert there is much in wat you say. and the coach and 4?'
'coach and 4' x-claymed laydy cameron. 'that chit of a girl? depend upon it lady jersey wen his lordship and cuzzin robinson met littel proodens pewsie was asleep in her bed.'
'it was of corse a shatterbraned thing to do' sed sir nikkolas cameron to her grays the dowayjer duchess of paislie. it was known throo-owt london that-- in lyt of her beloved brothers dyr illness--the dowajer was not as the saying was at home. sir charles grunestayn it was wispered had sot admittence agayn and agayn but had bene tirned away.
nevertheless the duchess had fownd it in her hart to admit one witness of her brothers downfall. she sat now akross from him in her brite morning room in rich violet robes and if her eye stole from tym to tym to the fortepiano sir nikkolas did not reed any message there.
'x-playn it to me agane' sed the dowager and touched a slender hand to her alabaster forehed so festooned with awburn curls. 'my mynd has bene all of a wirl for days sir nikkolas. you sed that in his furie my unhappie brother had fot sir charles to a standstill wen--.'
'wen up charjes my laydie proodens on a wyt stallyon--a stallyon i ask you!--with the erls bastird--well maybe not charles bastird but his grandfathers or sum such--meeklie trotting behynd on a grey ponie. cuzzin hewbert looked up gobsmacked--and hoo can blaym him--and the erl filletted him. o i beg yore pardon.'
'no no' sed clementine hiding her dancing eies behind her hand. her voyse trembled dramatikallie 'do not spayr my feelings. i wud kno the hole. and laydie proodens throo herself before her nobel syr did she?'
'not she' sed nikkolas warmlie 'it was qwite shokking reelie for she throo herself befor cuzzin hewbert! lord! if i didnt kno hewbert to hav fixxed his intrest in qwite another qwarter i wud hav thot--! well lets just say that we will not be wishing any mrs major-jeneral lytton happy on her wedding day any tym soon. the old boy was shokked speechless. grunestayn did his best to smooth things over of corse. lord! if theres anything i dont lyk its a green girl hoo puts herself forward.'
'for shaym' sed her grays momentarilie driven from dissemblence. 'she did not but put a stop to this trajic meeting. and in so doing she sayved her fathers life. i cannot luv him--no--for a sisters love forbids that i luv my brothers erstwile slayer--but i at leest can honor the wumman hoo boldlie risked all to sayv human lyf. we scotswomen are not yore english bred-and-butter misses to cower at hoam wen the bagpyps warn battle is at hand!'
'bagpyps is apt' sed sir nikkolas eesily 'for it was that littel bagpyp of a bastird hoo summoned her to the fray.'
'well i must tayk my leev your grays' he sed 'as much as it payns me to leev so much bewtie. i hav promissed my mother to kall upon pewsey huose. she has sum noshun--wud you credit it-- that the fayr horswumman and i wud soot.'
'i do credit it' sed the dowajer duchess promptlie 'and wat is mor i think it an x-sellent ideya. it trubbels me to think that her zeel to sayv all unknoing her mothers sekret luver may discredit her in the eies of sosietie. it wud be a shaym for an innosent to be so wronged for tho brayv she is sertanelie an innosent.'
'depressinglie so' sed sir nikk. 'if onlie you dear duchess had fayvored my soot...'
'get thee hens' sed the dowajer and standing rung the bell. 'i will hav no flirtayshus nonsens! for shaym sir! my brother lys abuv in wat may be his last agonie.'
'i beg yore pardon onse agane yore grace. i am a sad rakketie fellow.'
'you are' sed clementyn. 'i cud wish laydie proodens a better husband.'
'madame' sed sir nikk with a rogish grin 'i am entyrelie of the saym mind.'
wen the yung man had left the room the bewtiful dowajer fell deep in thot. she crossed the room sat at the fortepiano and sketched an arpeggio. but then she stood and went out to the hallway and up the grand stayrcays to the long corridor of bedrooms. she listened at a door for a moment and then turned the handle. she entered a dark and gloomy chamber.
'angus,' sed a voys a mans voys week with fever.
'indeed not' sed the duchess sweetlie. her skirts swept the dark carpets as she advansed upon the sick man. as her eies adjusted to the dim lit she saw with a cewrious pleshur the drawn whyt fays of her brother and the eager lite fayding from his eies. he shut them.
'madam' sed hewbert. 'i wud kno the wereabowts of my servitors.'
'goodness' sed his sister. 'how shud i kno? i imajin they are in servants halls or down in the shops or even in an alehuose. am i my brothers servants keeper?'
'obveeuslie not' sed hewbert. 'i kollekt you are yore brothers gaoler.'
'theres gratitood' sed clementyn klapping her hands to her hart. 'i am qwite hurt i declayr. ive a mynd not to tell you the laytest on-dit of the town.'
'o god' sed hewbert. 'not onlie my gaoler but my torcheror too. may i say madam that unless you bring me a glass of water you will find yore sport suddenlie curtayled.'
'o very well' sed clementyn krossing the room to the beeyuroh upon wich a jug of tepid water had silently taunted the suffering klerik all morning. she filled a cup whyl gailie chattering 'youl never gess hoo has just been by to see me!'
'charles' sed hewbert and struggled up onto an elbow. 'charles come at last. but he hasnt gone? he hasnt gone clementyn? i must see him. i must!'
'calm yoreself' sed clementyn crossing the room with the water. 'not charles but cuzzin nikkolas.' she broke off and pretended not to heer hewbert settel down agane with a groan on his flat and crumpled pillos. 'do you kno i am seeing qwyt another syd of cuzzin nikkolas. the on-dit has always bene that he carys nothing for green girls but it seems that he has fallen viktim at last.'
hewbert drank greedily from the cup in his sisters hands and some color returned to his fase as he let his hed fall bak and shut his eies.
'i am not intersted in nikks flirtayshuns' he sed. 'and ill hav you kno madam that it is onlie thanks to lyttons sharp eies that he did not--advententlie or inadvertentlie i kno not--kill both charles and me with his badlie cleened wepons!'
'yes yes yes so you sed' sed clementyn 'but from hints that you drop wen asleep--for you are at yore most diverting wen asleep brother--i think you will be most interested in this flirtayshun.'
'wat do you meen?' demanded hewbert. his eies opened and he turned his hed to look at his sister. 'speek wumman.'
but insted of reveeling wat she knew the bewtie got up from the chayr and took a tirn arownd the room.
'the pewsies' she mewsed and laffed. 'the pewsies. wat a fatal tendencie has the robinson clan for the huose of grunestayn hewbert does it not?'
'madame' sed hewbert and his dark eies burned with the fever that was wasting his but newly convalescent fraym. 'speek yore pees or qwit my chaymber. i do not kno wat you hav don with my staff but do not think that they will not fynd sum way to rescew me.'
'such drama' mermered clementyn.
hewbert was sylent.
'i must konfess' sed clementyn slyly 'that she is a tayking littel thing. she puts me in mynd of a merry littel bloobell dansing in the breez. those luvley pewsie eies of such a velvetie sky-lyk hew---.'
'madam i fayl to see--.'
'and such an aimiable smyling cowtenance--skin as soft and cleer as the petal of a whyt rose slightlie tinged with pink! her x-presshun so innosent and so winning!'
'madam i am awayr--.'
'not as yet a tall girl and her slim figewr is stil immatchur but i wud be surprised if it did not in a very short tym rippen lyk a succewlent--!'
'madam!' x-claymed hewbert with as much strength as he cud muster. 'i am perfektlie well akwainted with laydie proodens. ther is no need for yor panegyriks. i kno wat she looks lyk.'
'and wat spirit' sed clementyn remoreslesslie 'if onlie i had been ther hewbert to see her ryd lyk the spirit of bereeved wyvs and doters evrywere to demand peece! watever the damned sassenachs may say i kan respekt such a wumman! nay i cud have luvved such a sister-in-law. a pitie she has been n-tirely diskreditted befor sosietie.'
'no' rasped hewbert and ons agane he struggled to his l-bow. 'you ly! we were all sworn to sekrecie! if that devvil nikk has breethed a wird beyond--! and anyway how cud proodens be diskreditted? if ever ther was a heroine in nachur it is she! shurelie thees peepel are not so toploftie as to blaym a girl for ryding--eskorted, sister! eskorted!--to her fathers rescew!'
'well the on-dit--wich shud mayk you laff as merrilie as did i--is that proodens road not to her fathers rescew but to yores.'
she pawsed to see if wat effekt her wirds were havving.
'the amewsing konklushun that is being drawn by the ton is that laydie proodens was the proximayt caus of your enkounter. do i mean proximayt? i kan never keep the aristoteelian kategories strait.'
'outrageous!' rasped the sick man bright dots birning in his cheeks. 'you madam were the proximayt caus! and wer it not for the onor of our naym i wud x-pose you to charles for yore filthie and adultrus lusts which almost led to his undoing and to myn!'
'yes yes' drawled clementyn. 'how luckie for me that you are so n-tyrelie wedded to the onor of our naym. ah men! so powerful and yet yor power is so confownded by femayle desyr. i cud ryt a treeteez on that wud thro mrs wolstonkraft n-tyrelie in the shayd! but meenwile poor littel proodens for all her virchoo and curij is shortlie to be a drug on the marrij market. thank goodness nikk is ryding to her rescew.'
'o yes! to giv nikk his dew hes not such a cawker to dreem for a minit that laydie proodens wud be no better than she shud be with you. he knos you you see. and the very idea that such a bewtiful and welthie girl such a spirited girl such a girl hitherto sot by so manie matrimonial pryzes wud bestow her favors upon such a cloth-heded ginger-nutted dryed up old prig of a prayting preecher is simplie ridikewlus to those in the kno.'
'ginger-nutted i may be' rasped hewbert 'but i am not so cloth-heded to think that nikk wud be axseptabul to laydie proodens nor she to him. givven wat you are madam i will scroopel to tell you that our cuzzins taytes are solely for ryper froot and tend towards the downstayrs. charles wud never allow such a dirtie dish to approach his doter.'
'ah but nikk now has every intenshun of marrying to pleez his familie' sed clementyn 'and if the skandal gets any wirs littel proodens will be luckie to get him.'
'this kannot be' groned hewbert. 'wat fresh hell is this? laydie proodens diskreditted--and all becos of my intemperat challenj! but shurely you are rong. shurely you hav misherd or rumor has lyed or--god forgyv you--you dissembel. wen you say she is diskreditted wat to you meen?'
'she was cut by laydie jersey' sed clementyn impressivlie.
the sick man fell silent.
'i kno not hoo she mite be' he sed at last 'i kollekt she is some doyenne or other. is she a freind of yours?'
'certanely she is a freind of myn' sed clementyn 'do you not kno that i am all the krak? deer brother i asshur you that thier is 0 rong with my kredit! the duke of kent offers for me evry third thursday. and indeed of the hi stiklers i am konsidered verie hi indeed! it has kom to my eers that i am toasted in the clubs of st jayms as the sno queen! of cors i cud not say this to anyone but you but givven wat we kno it is diverting is it not?'
her dark eies blazed with hellish twin flayms of pryd and deceet.
'then you must go to this laydie jersey' sed hewbert. 'you must tell her that laydie proodens is not to blaym--that laydie proodens is innosent of anything anyone may be saying! and you must go to her--be seen with her--invyt her into this huose--anything to reestablish her kredit!'
'o foo' sed his sister roodlie. 'wy shud i?'
'becos if you do not' sed hewbert closing his eies. 'i shall dy.'
'you are dying now my freind.'
'i shall dy' repeated hewbert unmooved 'and our brother will come down lyk an avenjing furie upon london to bring yoo to justis.'
'i' x-claymed clementyn. 'it is not i hoo hav murdered you but charles pewsie.'
'charles onlie woonded me--the surjeon shall attest to that. it is you madam hoo are slaying me by inches. and do not think that i perish that yore erlier crym will go unreported. och aye--i see that has got yore attenshun. i wonder wat the pressent dook of paisley mite not do to keep you off the stand.'
'you are delireeus sir' cryed clementyn 'i kno not of wat you speek.'
'you ly' sed hewbert 'and altho my last words may go unherd by kompasshunate wirds my akkewsayshun will sownd throo the streets of london and up and down this teeming island. from lands end to john o groats all britain will kno clementyn duchess of paisley to be a dirty poysoning murtheress! henry will see to that.'
'you liar!' skreemed his sister advansing upon him. 'you damned misbegotten liar! i hav half a mind to kill you in yore bed. i will smother you with the pillows! i will throttel you as eesilie as a kitten!'
'pleez do so' sed the reverend the honorabul hewbert robinson. 'the thot of you swinging from tyburn tree in yore shift offers me grate dethbed konsolayshun.
clementyn stopped stared throo back her hed and began to laff. in the hallway a passing chambermayd herd the laff and broke into a run back wence she caym.
'the devvil bless you hewbert' sed clementyn wyping away her teers of mirth 'for all yore postchuring you are x-actlie as am i.'
'i hoap and pray madam that you are rong in this as in so many other matters.'
'i may even do as you ask' sed clementyn tayking another tirn about the room. 'it wud be fyn sport come to think of it and wat beter way to asshure lord grunestayn of my very good fayth than to ree s-tablish his doter? ah wat a role! wat an actress i wud hav mayd brother!
ther was no reply from the bed. hewbert lay unmooving.
agane there was no replie. the duchess swiftlie approached the bed.
the man lay silent and the fine lines eched around his eies seemed to smooth away. his sister took his wrist and simultaneeuslie layd her intrikately coiffed auburn hed upon his chest.
as if obeying a summons from a duzen freeked out reeders the sick man regained conshusnes.
'my sufferings are wors than saint pauls' he mermered.
'hells bells' x-claymed his sister 'how you fritened me!'
clementyn took a bottle from her poket and wavved it under her brothers nose. he snorted tirned his fase way and groned.
'enough of this gothik foolishness' sed clementyn to herself. she took hold of the bellpull by the bed and pulled it vigoruslie. after a few moments there was the sound of hevie padding down the hall and swarthy mrs harvey dragged her bulk into the dark room. she rinkled her bulbus nose.
'lawks' she sed. 'its lyk an oven!'
'improov it then' ordered clementyn. 'theres been a chanj in plans. open the drayps and tayk off that hevie coverlet and fluff up the pillows and call for flowers and do and watever els is needful. ill summon a doctor from harley street. meenwile keep an eie on him. if he dys wyl im out ill hav you covvered in honie and tyed to an ant hill.'
'ho!' sed harvey 'will you indede! and wat abowt that lot lokked in the attik?'
'wat abowt them?' asked the dowager duchess. 'i am shur it must be lyk a holiday for them 0 to do but sit arownd and blether.'
'that parlormayd is up there with the men' sniffed the duchesses loyal henchwumman. 'it aint ryt it aint respektabul and im shur i cud yews sum help now that youv saddeled me with an invlid. my feet aint wat they were.'
'leev her be' sed clementyn 'i hav my own plans for the wench. now stop moaning and get on with yore work. if you leev this room ill hav you skinned alyv. im going out.'
'not in that gown you aint' sed harvey.
'verrie troo' sed clementyn koolie and with one bakward look at her brother swept out of the room.
more tomorrow now i want choklit.