Chester's Fault , livre ebook

Chester’s Fault
Wendy Gill
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-08-28
Chester’s Fault About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgements Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen
About the Author
Born in South Yorkshire, Wendy is the youngest daughter of John and Connie Moxon. She had her first book published at the age of 70. She enjoys embroidery and loves art. Liverpool is one of her favourite places to visit and she loves visiting The Walker Art Gallery and the Lady Lever Art Gallery on the Wirral.
Dedication
To my husband, Kevin Gill, for his continued support and encouragement.
To the ladies that lunch: June Pickles, Pat Roe and
June Ogley.
Copyright Information ©
Wendy Gill (2020)
The right of Wendy Gill to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528946490 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528971799 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgements
To my son, Spencer Gill, daughter, Deborah Hotchkiss, and sisters, Valerie Owen and Carol Wood, for being supportive and giving me confidence to continue having my stories published.
Chapter One
Clara ran up the steps leading to an impressive oak door and pulled the bell. She heard footsteps heading towards her, and the door was opened by a butler dressed in dark blue livery.
He looked taken aback upon seeing a young woman dressed in the modern trend of slim fitting long dress, the height of fashion.
“Can I help you?” he asked, looking down his nose at her.
In the year 1829, it was not the correct behaviour for a lady of quality and her young years to be knocking on the door of a wealthy bachelor without being accompanied by a chaperone.
“I have come to see Lord Hunter,” the young woman said.
“Is he expecting you, Miss?” the butler wanted to know.
“No. I am the last person he will be expecting to see, but nevertheless, I must insist on seeing him.”
“In that case, I am sorry, Miss. I cannot let you in unless you have an appointment.”
Ignoring the butler, Clara pushed past him. Walking across the hall, she opened the first door she came to and looked inside. It was a library, but alas, empty.
Clara went to the next door and flung it open, and this time she was rewarded by the sight of an elegant gentleman dressed in a tailcoat, tight trousers and shinning top boots.
Ignoring his startled expression, Clara advanced into the room.
The butler followed close on her heels and said, “I am sorry, my lord, this young lady burst in when I told her I could not allow her admittance unless she had an appointment.”
“No matter, Wilson, if the young lady is so determined to see me, I am most interested to find out why.”
“Very well, my lord,” replied the butler.
“May I at least know your name?” asked Lord Hunter.
“Miss Clara Lander.”
“Am I supposed to know that name?” he asked.
“You may be able to fool those silly young girls who inhabit the ballrooms of Frithwood with that innocent look, but you cannot fool me.”
“So, it would seem,” was his reply.
“Do you deny refusing to give your permission for your sister to marry my brother?”
“My sister is above the age of one and twenty. She does not need my permission to marry if she so wishes.”
“She may be of marriageable age, but if you told her not to marry, I am reliably informed, she would do as you bid,” she flashed at him.
“If you have met my sister, you would know how far off the mark you are,” he countered.
A low, constant growl came from a black Labrador that was sitting by the fireplace eyeing Clara with distrust.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, shut up,” she snapped at it.
The Labrador lay down on his stomach and placed his head between his front paws and gave Clara, a soulful look.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Clara accused the gentleman and went over to the dog, crouched down and started stroking it on the head.
“I am sorry for shouting at you, but it’s very rude to make that noise while I am trying to talk. I know it is not your fault. You do not know any better, living with him.” Clara shot his lordship a quick glance from her crouched position.
The dog, going from being shouted at to being patted, jumped up and placed his front paws on the stranger’s shoulders and proceeded to lick her face. At the same time, Clara overbalanced, gave a delighted laugh and tried to push the dog off.
The door was flung open once more. Two youths of about eleven years of age rushed in, each holding a pistol in front of him with both hands and they both said in unison, “Stick um up.”
The youths were wearing the same cut of clothes and sporting the same face.
Wilson appeared behind the youths in the doorway and told his lordship, “I am sorry, my lord, these two boys are much quicker than I am.”
“Never mind, Wilson, it would seem it is an open house here this morning. Go and have a cup of tea and calm yourself,” Lord Hunter told the old retainer.
“Thank you, my lord.” Wilson closed the door before his lordship could change his mind.
Clara, still sitting on the floor was shaking her head at the two boys.
The dog sat next to her, wagging its tail at all this unexpected commotion.
His lordship, instead of being angry at this turn of events was beginning to enjoy himself.
Addressing the two youths who stood in the doorway, he demanded, “Are those pistols loaded?”
“Loaded, of course, they are not loaded. What do you take us for, flats?” the youth looked insulted that the gentleman should even have to ask. “If we went about carrying loaded pistols, Oscar would cut off our allowance.”
The gentleman strode over to the door and took the pistols from them, and he checked to make sure both pistols weren’t loaded. Satisfied, he put the pistols on the table where he perched on the edge with his ankles crossed.
The young lady was still sitting on the floor next to the dog completely unself-conscious.
Turning to the two boys his lordship asked, “You two are twins I take it?”
One of the youths who had walked across the room to look out of the window remarked, “Of course we are, it doesn’t take a genius to work that out,” the youth by the window said.
As he looked out of the window at the spacious back garden, his twin said, “I say, Lee, look at him, he’s a beauty.”
The twins threw themselves on the floor, one at either side of the dog and put their arms around his neck.
“These two urchins are related to you I suppose?” the gentleman addressed Clara.
Before Clara had time to reply the door opened and a young woman in her early twenties came into the room and stopped short.
“Oh, I am sorry, I did not know you had visitors,” her bright blue eyes took in the scene, and they danced with delight.
“As I understand it, you know their brother,” Lord Hunter told her.
“Do I? How interesting, may I enquire of this gentleman’s name?” the young lady asked.
Finding herself the object of two bright blue eyes, Clara lifted up her chin and said, “Oscar Lander,” keeping her eyes on the young lady.
“Oscar Lander. I’m sorry, but I do not seem to recollect the name,” the young lady replied.
“He told you to say that,” Clara said indicating the gentleman with a nod of her head.
Before the young lady had time to reply the door opened behind her and this time a gentleman about the same age and height as Lord Hunter came striding into the room. He glanced around the room and saw the twins, each with an arm around the neck of a dog and his sister sitting on the floor beside them.
“What are you doing sitting on the floor?” he asked.
“He did it,” Clara told him, indicating Lord Hunter.
“Really, Edwin,” the second young lady addressed her brother, “I am surprised at you.”
The newcomer smiled over at her and said, “Before you start accusing anyone, I think it might be a good idea to find out the full fact’s first.”
He walked over to the young woman sitting on the floor and held out his hands to help her stand.
Once on her feet, still holding her hands, the second gentleman only had to look down at his sister with an unspoken question in his eyes.
The young lady had to admit, “Well, he didn’t actually push me, his dog did.”
“At least that clears that up,” said the second gentleman.
The young man turned and held out his hand to the gentleman sitting on the edge of the table and introduced himself, “Oscar Lander, and I think you must be, Lord Hunter.”
“I am, and this,” Lord Hunter indicated to the other young lady in the room, “Is my sister, Effie.”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hunter,” Oscar gave her a slight bow.
“And I you,” and Effie gave him a small curtsey.
“This pack of ruffians, belong to me as you might have already guessed. My sister, Clara, and the twins, Tom and Lee,” explained Oscar.
“I understand you have asked my sister to marry you?” questioned Lord Hunter.
“Has he? I know nothing about this Edwin,” Effie accused.
“I didn’t know myse