The Gentleman & The Rake

Day Three Continued

Cross-Examination

Judge Hardcastle said to Deborah, "I suppose romance accounts for this Romeo and Juliet nonsense: star-crossed lovers, family feuds."

"Oh, sure. Couples always encounter external obstacles in romance novel as internal obstacles. Lots of times, the external obstacle is a class thing-social repercussions if the hero marries the wrong person."

"Pamela sounds like an educated, intelligent, well-mannered young lady. What possible social disadvantages could there be?"

Mr. B beamed at the judge. "My thoughts exactly."

Deborah said to Leslie Quinn, "Isn't he adorable?"

Leslie Quinn apparently agreed. "It was highly atypical for a gentleman of Mr. B's class to marry a servant-girl."

"That didn't give Mr. B the right to use her," Gary said.

"I agree," Mr. B said, and Gary gaped.

"And the internal obstacle?" the judge asked Deborah.

She motioned to Mr. B who hesitated before saying, "I was blessed with a loving mother, a distant father, and a hectoring sister. The combination does not enchant one with the pleasures of family and marital life."

Mr. Hatch scribbled a note.

"Ah, yes, well," Judge Hardcastle said. He hoped Pamela wasn't going to turn into one of those dreadful modern suburban novels in which each family member languished under the weight of multiple dysfunctions.

Mr. B said, "Pamela and I did encounter obstacles, most of them created by my sister." He grinned when the judge stifled a groan but continued, "My Bedfordshire servants informed my sister that I'd kidnapped Pamela--"

Mr. B's Testimony Corresponding to Pamela's Abduction

Week 7

--and she sent me a letter haranguing me, on the one hand, for ruining Pamela and on the other, for wanting to marry a servant girl. I had no intention of marrying although I knew I should for the family line. In any case, if--when--I did marry, I'd marry whomever I damned well pleased.

I was annoyed by Barbara's officiousness and furious that her interference forced me to let the tattling servants go; you cannot have servants forming plots against you, especially servants idiotic enough to involve my sister. That meant losing the bulk of Bedfordshire's upper table or better paid servants: Longman, Mr. Jonathan, and Mrs. Jervis. Plus John Arnold, who'd delivered their messages to my sister.

It bothered me that I would lose such fine servants. The whole matter was getting out of hand. I needed to send Pamela home. I knew it, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words.

I was expected at a wedding ball for the daughter of a Lincolnshire family. Before I left, I instructed Mrs. Jewkes to watch Pamela closely. With Barbara involved, I couldn't guess how many schemes were being hatched to "rescue" Pamela.

Our relationship involved no one but ourselves.

The ball was tedious. I don't usually mind social occasions, but my ribs still ached; the fever came and went. The only highlight was talking to Lady Darnford, wife of Sir Simon, a placid, level-headed woman.

"Are you in love with your guest?" she asked me kindly, not salaciously.

"I guess I must be," I told her.

I went to Stamford the next day and freed Mr. Williams from gaol. He didn't mention Pamela. The Knight Errant had been brought to heel.

I mentioned her.