Fox Hunt

Arrivals

The carriage bounced up the gravel drive shy of 10 am in late autumn. Wharton had been feeling his molars clack together at each small bump in the road and his jaw was aching, but not enough to put him off breakfast. He hoped the plates were still out when he arrived. A nice cup of tea would warm his hands as well. His lambskin gloves did little to protect him from the late morning chill.

The carriage rounded the yew hedge and he caught his first glimpse of the manor house.

Wharton had a family estate as well, but Ipswich was less grandiose than the Earl of Dundee's. The stone building towered over him as his carriage slowed. The mighty facade was deckled with ample-paned windows. It sat like an overfed toad four stories tall with crenelations along the roof. The dormers facing the sloping lawn down the lake were sharply silhouetted in the bright sun. Still, it was a handsome building and well-situated on the property, albeit a little defensive-looking and overwrought in style.

Wharton upon stepping down to the gravel drive hoped his passing judgment was because he was a humble man and not because of jealousy. His mum would likely agree with him at least. The building looked aggressive, to say the least.

"Young Lord Wharton. Welcome to Trentham." The greeting servant bowed deeply, "I hope your journey was expedient."

Wharton tapped his hat back onto his brown-haired crown now that he was beyond the confines of the carriage's ceiling. "I preferred the train to the carriage ride, but regardless, has my horse arrived?"

"Not yet, my Lord. They are expected to arrive together with the other guests' sometime this evening." The servant eyed the darkness of the carriage. "Do you not travel with a manservant?"

Wharton flushed under the collar.

"Ah, no. I don't have a manservant."

The servant blushed equally. "I meant no disrespect, sir."

Wharton wished he had his old familiar riding crop to fiddle with, but he charged on despite his embarrassment. "Is it too late for breakfast?"

"Not at all, your Lordship. The table is still out. I'll direct you." He spun on his heel promptly and guided Wharton down the walk to the manor's front door.

He didn't exactly have the money for a traveling servant. He was so new to the title and the responsibilities. His father had been sick for decades before recently succumbing to death and passing his minuscule wealth and holdings to his eldest. Part of the reason why Wharton was here was to garner some clout with the powerful. The Earl was a second cousin on the side of a marriage. Wharton had barely been able to buy into the hunt. With three younger siblings, he'd have to work hard to build up his resources.

Once the servant had thrown open the door and shepherded Wharton into the Manor his breath caught. It was an incredible marble entry with a double Sheesham stair. In the center was a massive charging elephant, frozen in perfect taxidermied form. Its ivory tusks were heavy and almost curved in a full circle. Above the wood wainscotting surrounding the room hung heads and heads of exotic animals. Wharton couldn't name them all, but he recognized a wildebeest, a zebra, and an antelope. Ceremonial spears decorated the spaces in between the animals. A glass weapons cabinet held a series of fine hunting rifles on both sides of the entry.

Wharton's mouth hung wide. He couldn't tear his hazel eyes from the elephant. Its dark marble eyes raged back forever.

"Impressive," he gasped.

The servant was obviously used to this kind of reaction. He stood a little straighter to emphasize his pride in his master.

"Indeed, the earl is an unmatched hunter. You may hear him regale the party with the story of felling this creature later. It's one of his favorites. If I may, my lord, the parlor is this way." He bowed slightly and gestured to an open, carved door.