Affections and the Axe - Part One

Engagements and the Ball

In the old days of England, families valued one another on their wealth and their connections to the rest of high society, as they liked to call themselves. Not to say this is much different than any other era or homeland, but it is important to understand why some families were allowed in high society and others were not: Money, social circles, and even which families had marriages with others all impacted familial reputations. Some families would rise while others would fall, as can be seen in the stories to come. Other families, however, were immovable from high society, like the Westerlys.

The family of Westerly had a significant reputation as one of the oldest, wealthiest, and most well-connected in the country. The Westerlys were respected and appreciated by all who knew them. Franklin Westerly and his wife, Ellen, were blessed with a daughter named Abigail. Abigail was fair, friendly, and had wits beyond her years. She was a growingly renowned poet, was the life of the celebration at any ball, and as a sportswoman she could keep up with any man on horseback. Though Abigail was brought up through wealth and popularity, she remained humble and kind among anyone she met, including families who were seen as less than her own. Abigail Westerly was the gem of her parents’ homestead. As a bachelorette, she was a topic of many conversations in high society, and the target of many young men.

Abigail would have been a desirable bride in her own right, and the man who married her would have been lucky indeed. Most anyone felt like the luckiest person alive just to speak with her, and feel the warmth of her smile, the sincerity of her eyes. However, one could not ignore that part of her desirability to many self-proclaimed gentlemen was her familial prestige. The Westerly name proved to be a blessing and a curse, as it brought out suitors who saw a marriage with her as more strategic than romantic, much to Abigail’s dismay.

When Abigail came of age, her parents allowed some young men to call on her, but only if she consented first. In a time when most women had little say in a marriage arranged for them, Abigail’s arrangement was uncommon. However, the Westerlys had the right to be particular. This particularity would begin with an introduction to the family if they had not already been acquainted. Not only was it important for a would-be suitor to have a friend of the Westerlys vouch for their character, but it was also a display of how well they themselves were connected. Franklin was a kind father and a good man, but would not allow an outsider, as he deemed them, to marry his daughter.

If an introduction was made, and the reputation satisfactory, this meant a few visits to the Westerly home before any prospective courtship would truly commence. Franklin would judge a young man by his family, while Ellen would judge a young man by his manners. If both parents were satisfied in their judgements, then Abigail might allow these young men to pursue her hand in marriage, if she felt so attracted or inclined from their meetings. She could usually sense if a person was good or not, and she had little patience for the ones who wanted her family more than they wanted her.

When Abigail met Arthur Bennett, she loved him from the start. The Bennett family was not among the wealthiest, but they were among the most storied in high society, so Franklin welcomed him on the merit of that history. Arthur was charming and respectful to Ellen, and so she too approved. He was a gentleman to Abigail, he treated her kindly, and the two had a great deal of fun together as their acquaintance grew naturally. After weeks of supervised visits, letters, and a conversation with Franklin, Abigail and Arthur were engaged to be wed.

Abigail and Arthur had begun the arrangements for their wedding, and all of high society took interest in the event. Not only was Abigail the heiress to the Westerly homestead and fortune, but this would surely be one of the grandest social events in living memory. It was all that could be discussed for some time. This excitement then turned to quite a stir when the engagement of Abigail and Arthur was suddenly and unceremoniously broken, leaving Abigail distraught and in solitude.

Both families of Westerly and Bennett were intent on keeping the details private, simply hoping to move on with their lives as they did before the engagement. Weeks became months, and normalcy was slowly resuming. People mostly respected the privacy, though they could not resist from spreading rumors if they could not have the answers. These rumors persisted as the only discussion about the family, until the Westerlys attended a ball. It was the first time Abigail returned in public, at the assurance that the entire Bennett family would not be in attendance. Now, high society could only discuss the fact that Abigail was returning from her solace, apparently with a healed heart. Her engagement to Arthur would soon become but a memory. But when Arthur found out that Abigail would attend, he could not resist the chance to see her again, even uninvited.

Arthur arrived embarrassingly drunk, causing a horrid scene in front of everyone. It was obnoxious, inappropriate, and offensive to Abigail personally. People were so aghast that they hesitated to speak about it, despite their rumoring nature. When Arthur did what he did, not only was he dragged out of the ball, but the entire Bennett family was excommunicated from high society. No invitations, no correspondence, no friendship. All the money in the world (which they did not have, anyway) could not have saved them. The Bennetts were ruined, and Arthur felt great shame for these consequences.

Abigail took a long time to privately recover, again, from the heartbreak and embarrassment of this new ordeal. She went back into solitude of her own accord, having no interest or intention of meeting any new suitors. She was intent on changing the mindset of her life and what marriage meant to her. In these days, that was not only uncommon, but unheard of. She was a young woman, let alone the only child to a wealthy and historic family. Marriage was not only an opportunity for a family to secure a better future, but also an obligation for daughters at the time. Her father was eager for her to try to find another suitor, but her mother urged him to be patient, and allow her to seek marriage in her own time. So, Franklin and Ellen waited patiently for Abigail to be ready.

One visitor, however, would break that solitude in the Westerly house. Abigail had an uncle named Edward, who was Ellen’s brother. Edward was a businessman and bookkeeper who offered guidance to many families regarding their fortunes and business ventures. Edward had a lovely wife and several small children, and he planned a visit to see his sister Ellen at least once a year. He had already rescheduled his visit twice now, to allow Abigail more privacy, but Ellen grew impatient and wanted to see her nieces and nephews. So finally, Edward made way to the Westerly homestead with his wife, children, and his new apprentice: A young man named James.

James Canterbury came from a good, albeit modest, family, who employed the services of Uncle Edward. James’ father sought some investments to help him grow his modest estate to higher grandeur, and so Edward advised him on opportunities that may yield growth. Each time Edward met with the Canterburys, James sat at the table and asked questions about each investment. Edward was always impressed with the young man’s curiosity, as well as his knowledge on the topic. After several meetings, Edward asked James if he had career ambition, and offered an apprenticeship to the young man. James was delighted, and his family was proud, so he made plans to move in with Edward to begin studying the business even closer.

James would attend every business meeting with Edward, usually to observe and to learn, but over time felt more comfortable to speak and offer guidance. Edward would save his critique for after the meeting, as typically James’ statements did not require instant revision. He was well learned by book, and now well trained in practice. James was not ready to venture out on his own, though he was also in no rush to leave the guidance of Edward, as the two had developed quite a bond of teacher and student. It was only natural that James joined Edward and family for this visit, though neither he nor Abigail expected to connect as they did.

James was only a few years older than Abigail, so the two kept each other company comfortably while Edward’s family visited. They sat beside one another at most meals, shared walks around the gardens, played card games, and told some of the more impactful stories of their lives. One particular conversation happened when they stayed up late into the night, which was kept secret between the two of them. It could have been seen as a scandal at such an hour, though all they did was talk.

That night, James spoke about his home and his childhood. He shared his excitement with his apprenticeship, though how he still missed the feeling of home and his own family. Abigail told James about Arthur, but she begged him to keep the details a secret. He agreed to keep the secret, and then separately stated that Abigail was too good for a man like that. He said she deserves to marry a man who would honor her, and never forget how lucky he was to be with her. James spoke earnestly without the intention of charming Abigail, although the charming happened naturally. She was flattered and felt a great closeness to him, and he could not hide his affections for her. Flustered, they abruptly agreed to end the evening, and go to bed. Though, the next morning, they were even more inseparable than before.

Abigail and James were not introduced with the intention of a courtship, yet it happened between them anyway. On the day Uncle Edward and family were leaving the Westerly house, James asked Franklin and Ellen for permission to write letters to Abigail. Well, that is not the entire story. First, he asked for permission and assistance from Edward, who laughed with proud approval, though he told James to wait until he spoke with Ellen.

Edward then approached his sister, who exclaimed with joy and relief that a good man like James might pursue her daughter. So Ellen spoke about it with Franklin, who had come to respect James and his humble beginnings. Franklin and Ellen then, together, asked Abigail if this was something she was interested in. For the first time in months, Abigail enthusiastically approved a young man to proceed in pursuit of her. So Franklin and Ellen left Abigail to talk to Edward. They told Edward the news, and Edward spoke to James that he may proceed. This left James to speak to Franklin and Ellen, who pretended it was the first time they heard about any such thing, even though they knew that James knew the truth. James asked for permission to write letters to Abigail, and they consented on behalf of their daughter.

The two wrote back and forth diligently, sharing even more of their life stories and their hopes for the future, which surely started to include one another. If James was ever traveling on business for Edward (which he was entrusted to do more and more independently, as his experience grew), he would make any excuse to visit the Westerlys, no matter how out of his way. Edward was not foolish, but he was also not angry at the young man’s motivation for his niece. In fact, he was rather amused by it, as he felt affection for both his apprentice and his niece.

After many weeks of correspondence and travel, James asked Edward for leave from his duties so he could visit his home and see his family. Edward obliged him, and James departed for home for the first time in over half a year. Soon after he arrived, he wrote a letter to Abigail inviting both her and her parents to come and visit his family. This gesture posed a risk, as many people saw the Canterburys as being beneath the Westerlys, and so such an invitation could be seen as insulting. However, Franklin and Ellen enjoyed James greatly, and they could see the fondness their daughter felt for him, so they accepted the invitation at once.

James had two older sisters, both married and living elsewhere, so there was space for both Abigail and her parents in the house. James’ parents were named John and Isabelle. John and Isabelle were both nervous to host the Westerlys, though James was more nervous than either of them. The first day of the visit was rather stiff and uncomfortable. By the second or third day, the pressure had eased, and both families began to get along like old friends. There were moments that all six of them spent time together, others that all the men and all the women split off, and precious few moments where Abigail and James had some privacy from their parents.

They went on walks, rode horseback, and James showed Abigail some of the places of his childhood that he wrote to her about. The Canterbury property was not so sprawling, so in those moments, the parents could still chaperone over their children. They did this with delight seeing the budding romance between the two. Franklin and Ellen let their protective natures relax with their trust for James, especially now having a glimpse at his upbringing. John and Isabelle were deeply fond of Abigail, as everyone was, so they were happy and hopeful for their son.

Towards the end of the visit, James was careful to request a moment alone with Franklin without drawing any attention from the rest of the group. Unlike the last time he had a question to ask, this moment did not involve one person asking another to ask another. Instead, it was direct and without complexity: James asked for permission to propose to Abigail. At once, permission was granted to James. Franklin not only trusted the judgement of his brother-in-law, but he had come to see for himself that James was a good man cut from good cloth. And he knew that Ellen couldn’t help but love the humble young man that James was, clearly seeing a genuinely good person who loved her daughter with all his heart.

James and Abigail went out on a walk together that evening, and he proposed to her. He explained to her the things he admired about her: Her kindness despite what she has gone through, her thoughtfulness for others before her own needs, her creativity, and her spirit for living life. Abigail laughed when he mentioned her physical beauty almost as an afterthought compared to the beauty of her mind and her heart.

He explained that for years he felt motivated in his own right, to advance himself for the sake of pride and ambition. However, in his closeness to Abigail, he wanted to be a better man altogether, to be worthy of her. He was eager to spend his life trying to come close to the man she deserved to marry. Though she did patiently wait for James to finish his speech, fighting the urge to interrupt his every word, Abigail said yes without hesitation. Abigail was a believer that everything happened for a reason, even when that reason feels far. Now she saw James as the reason behind the turns in her life’s path. Abigail was just as delighted that she would be marrying James as he was to marry her. The two would have a lovely life together.

The families celebrated together that evening, and the Westerlys offered to host one of the grandest celebrations in the history of their house to commemorate the engagement. They made way back to their home to begin preparations at once, James returned to Edward to inform him of the good news, and word began to spread through all of high society that Abigail and James were to be married. Times were good for both the houses of Westerly and Canterbury, soon to be united.

The day of the ball was one of excitement and grandeur. The already stunning ballroom of the Westerly home was decorated with flowers, candles, and banners of both their own family and that of the Canterburys. In truth, the Canterburys never had a family banner or crest, so they were surprised to see it when they arrived. Edward had commissioned one to be made for them as an engagement gift to James and his parents. Edward and Franklin joked that one day, after both of them are passed on, this fresh Canterbury banner may be the only one in the halls of this home. Though Franklin would never hesitate to puff his chest in Westerly pride, he admitted that there are worse names to bear, worse banners to fly in place of his own.

Guests from all different parts of the country and many friendly families began to arrive. Many were close friends of either Westerly or Canterbury, many were long-distance family who had not reconnected in some time, and others were some prominent families invited out of obligation. Sure, it was a lovely evening of merriment and warm feeling, but the politics of high society could not be avoided altogether. However, almost all of the welcome guests were met with delight from their hosts.

One guest who arrived from the city used to be no guest at all, but a resident of the homestead. He was a young man named William Pine, who grew up on the Westerly property. William’s father, Thomas Pine, was a close assistant to Franklin until his unfortunate death. To commemorate Thomas for years of loyal service, Franklin paid for William’s education in the city. William consistently wrote back home to both his father and Franklin, sharing stories of his schooling and often asking for advice. After the death of Thomas, Franklin took on the role of father figure to William, and quickly saw William as the son he never had. Franklin was proud of what William was able to accomplish at his young age. Though they did not see one another often, the two remained close.

After he graduated from school, William stayed in the city permanently. He began his own business with the help of a loan from Franklin. His business was simple in nature: He imported and exported goods at a discounted rate from his competition. Because he originally focused on larger stocks of fewer items, he was able to be a more affordable partner than other importers or exporters who filled their ships with a variety of materials. After building a reliable reputation, he was able to be particular for only the largest of shipments, which kept his margins low and his profits favorable. He was not an overnight success, and he often struggled to find consistent business partners. But with perseverance and his wits about him, he built a profound business at a very young age. He now openly hoped to sell his business to another entrepreneur, so he could settle down and establish a family estate of his own, emulating the estate he grew up on.

William and Abigail grew up playing together, and they were each the closest thing they knew to brother and sister. Just as he wrote letters to Franklin, he also wrote letters to both Ellen and Abigail. He was enraged when he heard what happened between Abigail and Arthur, and he blamed himself for not being there to defend her dignity. He was very protective of Abigail and encouraged her decision to take time away from courtship, and to simply heal her heart. When Abigail first wrote to William about James, he was nervous for his friend to meet someone new, for he worried she might be hurt again. However, he trusted the word of both Franklin and Ellen, and met James with kind intentions.

William and Abigail had a happy reunion, with lots of hugging and laughing at the sight of one another. Abigail joked that William looked so old now, which he did, as his face bore stress beyond his years. He teased that not everyone could age like wine as she had. Ellen stood nearby, joyfully watching the reunion unfold. Though William was nearly a young man when his father died, his mother died when he was too young to even remember her face. Because of that, Ellen felt like a mother to William since he was a baby. In her eyes, she saw her two children reuniting.

Before Abigail could find James to make introductions, William introduced Abigail and Ellen to his own bride-to-be: Lydia Asher. Lydia was polite, though not warm, when she met Abigail. Abigail could feel some tension, but she could not understand why. William overcame the discomfort by mentioning the ladies’ shared interest of poetry as well as horseback riding. Lydia and Abigail briefly discussed their hobbies, as James walked over to meet the man who he correctly guessed was William. While the ladies strained to make polite conversation, the gentlemen became fast friends.

“Well now,” Abigail spoke, turning away from Lydia after a particularly loud laugh from William distracted them both, “if one of our other lovely guests were to walk by, they would believe it was the two of you who grew up together, and not you and I, William.”

“And what a fun childhood we might have had,” said James, patting William on the shoulder.

“The best of times, indeed! In another life we should have been so lucky,” William replied as he put his own arm around James. James stood taller than William, so William had to stretch slightly, even though he was the bulkier man. “Abigail, I have never denied your beauty, but I am impressed with what a handsome suitor you have gotten yourself.”

“If I didn’t know you better, I would think you were indeed denying it, old friend,” Abigail teased, as Lydia gave a small glare through a sip of her wine.

“None could deny your beauty, my love,” James interrupted, not noticing Lydia’s discomfort. “Though I have to say, I especially appreciate that complement from a man as strapping as yourself!” James laughingly gripped at the shoulder of William, the men still arm-in-arm. “Though, on the topic of beauty, William please introduce me to your lovely companion here.”

“Of course, James, this is Lydia Asher. She and I are also intended for marriage. Lydia, this is James Canterbury, who will be giving his name to the soon to be Mrs. Abigail Canterbury.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” said Lydia, in a far warmer tone to James than to Abigail, which did not go unnoticed. “And congratulations to both of you,” Lydia said while turning her look between James and Abigail.

“The pleasure is all mine, and congratulations yourselves,” James said politely as he kissed Lydia’s hand.

James and Lydia made acquaintance, while Abigail took William by the arm and the two shared how nice it was to see each other again. They pointed out some places in the hall where they shared memories, one of which prompted William to bring the conversation back to their respective partners.

“I am terribly sorry to interrupt,” said William as James was sharing how he and Abigail came to meet, “but James, has Abigail told you about the whiskey?”

“Heavens, not this story,” Abigail pleaded flippantly, “of all the stories you have to share, you choose this one?”

“But Abigail hates whiskey,” James pointed out, which made William nod in approval for James’ understanding of Abigail.

“And let me tell you why,” William began. “When Abigail and I were smaller, I was perhaps 8 years of age and her 10- “

“You’re younger than Abigail?” James asked, surprised.

“Yes,” William replied with an exhale, “thank you for the gentle reminder that my stress has aged me poorly.” They all laughed as James apologized, though William brushed off the unnecessary apology. “So, when Abigail and I were small, there were few days if any that our fathers would not conclude their discussion with a glass of Scotch whiskey. Unusually, this particular day they were meeting in this very ballroom, while Abigail and I played around the chairs and tables. Why was the room all set, anyhow, can you recall?”

“I believe the hall was being readied for my Uncle Edward’s wedding,” Abigail answered, before clarifying to the whole group, “otherwise the hall would be empty and they’d have met in the office or the den.”

“Of course,” William continued, “and this reminds me I’ll have to find Uncle Edward soon. I do beg your pardon, as I was saying, they called for their whiskey at one of the tables set right over there,” William stopped and pointed towards the middle of the room, “and they toasted to health and prosperity, and they drank. Abigail and I always wished to join them, but we were always refused. Well, Abigail had been refused one too many times. She walked right up to the two of them, looked straight up, and grabbed one of the glasses from the table. My father’s, I believe. They looked – I will never forget this sight – our fathers looked at each other, then back down at her, before good old Franklin nodded in approval. She drank it like juice, not a taste but the whole glass of aged Scotch.”

“Vile beverage,” Abigail interrupted, “if you can even call it that. I’d never drink it again, God willing.”

“And let me tell them why,” William continued. “She will never drink whiskey again because even the smell of it, if she comes too close, reminds her that she immediately – I apologize to be impolite – but she immediately emptied her stomach onto my father’s whole wardrobe,” William’s interrupted himself with laughter, as Abigail shook her head in embarrassment. James grabbed Abigail’s hand, as both he and Lydia laughed as well. “Now my father,” William tried to calm his laughter as he continued, “my father was a gentle man, if he ever raised his voice it was done in private. And never at Abigail – goodness, did he love you Abigail.” Abigail and William shared a brief look, remembering his father.

“Rest his soul,” Lydia interrupted, “I would have been honored to meet the man who raised you, my love.” She spoke unenthusiastically, and William thanked her rather unemotionally, which Abigail thought was peculiar. Lydia then apologized for the interruption and urged William to continue.

“Where was I? My father, yes there we are, my father was a gentle man. He simply looked down at himself, then at Abigail, and laughed. But Franklin, God save us, he grabbed Abigail by the arm and dragged her away faster than I’ve ever seen the man move! We have hunted together countless times, and to this day I have never seen him faster on his feet.”

“I still don’t know what made him angrier: The mess on your father, or the waste of good Scotch!” Abigail finished Williams’ story for him, while impersonating some of her father’s screaming from that day.

They laughed as continued to share other stories. At the mention of hunting with Franklin, James shared that Franklin had taken him hunting several times now, and William expressed his jealousy. William told James how much he missed a good hunt with Franklin on the property, and they discussed their favorite places to go hunting. Quickly, this discussion turned into plans for a hunt of their own. The friendship of James and William was almost as effortless as the romance between James and Abigail, while they left their beloved ladies to speak amongst themselves. As the men continued to laugh, and drink, and get to know one another as good friends, Abigail felt some uncertainty with Lydia.

Abigail thought back to all of her letters to and from William, and he never once mentioned Lydia, not even prior to their engagement. So, this must be not only a recent engagement, but a new acquaintance altogether. Curious, Abigail asked Lydia about her courtship with William, and what she had to share did not sound like an idyllic love story: William had conducted some business with her father, who was so impressed with William’s success at his young age that he introduced the two of them. The way Lydia explained it all, it sounded quite transactional. Abigail felt that William was marrying the Asher family estate more than he was marrying Lydia.

Though this was not uncommon for the time, she was quite disappointed in her old friend, and surprised. Over the years, the two shared many stories of their romantic hopes and dreams. From a young age, William had always wanted a marriage for true love, which he upheld as he grew older and more successful in his own enterprise. For Abigail to see him set all of that aside for a marriage of monetary gain was most displeasing to her. She now also understood some of the coldness from Lydia. Abigail thought that she might behave similarly in such a situation: Engaged to a man more interested in her family estate than herself.

“You know,” said Uncle Edward in another part of the ballroom, nearer to the main entryway, “my own wedding reception was in this very ballroom.”

“Is that so?” asked James’ father John, who had become decent friends with the man advising his son. “Why not at your and Ellen’s family estate? Or your lovely wife’s?”

“We would have, however our ballroom is not nearly as vast as the Westerly’s. Due to the size of our guest list, we would have had to host the affair outside under a tent, which would have been fine were our wedding not in the winter’s cold. So, Franklin and Ellen were kind enough to open their home for us, though my wife’s family did of course arrange and pay for it all.”

John and Edward were sharing a drink and discussing their mutual pride and happiness for James. Edward was also introducing John to several other guests there. This was great fun for Edward, as he was a jolly man who was happiest when he was being social. John, on the other hand, felt rather overwhelmed with so many introductions. He turned away for a moment, when a young man walked into the room and introduced himself to John.

“Hello there,” said the young stranger, “I’ve been told you’re the father of the groom to be. Congratulations, and it is an honor to meet you.”

“Yes I am!” said John, excited to be recognized, “and who might- “

“Forgive me,” he interrupted, “but I simply must tell you how lovely your banner looks in this hall. I had no idea the Canterburys had such a symbol.”

“As a matter of fact, it is a new banner, indeed. It was gifted to me by this gentleman right here.” John got the attention of Edward, who turned and abruptly pulled John away from the young man.

“Come here, John, let’s stand farther from the door,” said Edward in a far less jolly tone than he previously spoke.

“I don’t understand, who is that?” John turned back to look at the young man again, though he could not see him now through the now crowded area of the ballroom.

“That is Arthur Bennett. I do not know how he got in here, or how anyone in that damned family even knew of the ball tonight.”

“But Edward, who wouldn’t know about it,” John stopped himself, as he suddenly remembered that name. “Oh my, pardon me, Arthur Bennett the formerly betrothed to Abigail?”

“Indeed, John. And neither he, nor any Bennett, is welcome in this home!” Edward stopped himself from yelling further, taking a deep breath as he waved over one of the servants, who had a bottle of wine and several glasses. Edward informed them that Arthur Bennett had arrived unannounced, and he should be seen out at once. The servant placed down the bottle and the glasses, before quickly walking away to alert someone else on the staff of what happened. Edward did not hesitate to pour himself a glass and drink it rapidly, before pouring another.

“Edward,” John tried to regain Edward’s attention through the wine, “the man seemed perfectly pleasant. I’m not saying he should be welcomed with open arms, but why the urgency? What happened between him and my future daughter-in-law?”

“What do you mean?”

“All I have ever heard about Arthur Bennett was that his engagement with Abigail wasn’t meant to be. Clearly there is some detail I am missing, or you would not have such anger in your eyes, my friend.”

“John, up until now, both families agreed to keep the details of the fallout private. It was best for everyone involved.” Edward looked around, making sure no one else was in hearing distance at the moment. “But, you are soon to be family. If I tell you in confidence, do I have your assurance that no one will know? No one but you, and your wife if you so choose.”

“You have my word.”

“Very well,” Edward cleared his throat and readied himself to share the uncomfortable tale. “Abigail loved Arthur very much. I do not say this to create any jealousy, as the way she loves your son is far better than her love for Arthur. Plus, I can personally attest that James is the better man.

“Well, as they spent time preparing for the wedding, one of the guest suites of this estate belonged to Arthur for days, often weeks at a time. They spent almost their entire time together, from morning until they retired to their bedrooms. At first, the two of them were inseparable, and by all accounts their engagement was a happy one.

“Things changed rather quickly. I’ll spare you every detail, but my sister told me that their relationship began to sour as time went along. The laughter grew quiet and infrequent. Details they were excited to plan now felt like a chore, if not totally dismissed by either of them. Arthur took more frequent trips home, and when he was at the Westerly house, Abigail sought more time alone from him. These might be signs of a healthy couple settling into marriage, but not of two young romantics soon to be wed.

“So Abigail came to her parents and confessed that she no longer wished to marry Arthur. At the time, she explained to them in greater detail some things happening between them. I did not yet know everything I know now, and I simply thought they were engaged too quickly. Abigail wrote a letter to Arthur, Franklin met with Arthur’s father, and the engagement was quietly concluded.”

“That does not sound so awful,” said John. He entirely understood how a rapidly grown fire of a romance could fade fast, and this was no dramatic secret to be kept. Let alone worthy of excommunicating the Bennetts.

“No, not awful at all. Up to that moment, the families agreed to keep details private and go about their lives amicably. It was best this way, as neither family wanted to deal with the opinions of the public who love to gossip such things. Some time went on, Abigail began to feel better, and she attended a ball for the first time since the engagement.

“And it was a lovely evening. It was a smaller event, thrown simply for some families to join together and enjoy their company. I was there, and my sister and I both noticed how Abigail seemed like her old self again. Until midway through the night, Arthur Bennett arrived drunk, and loudly yelled at Abigail. He shouted the details of their arguments and used unspeakable insults against her. Now everyone in attendance, myself included, knew more of their disputes.”

“Goodness,” John said with a small gasp. “What was he saying?”

“John, I dare not repeat all of the vulgarity,” Edward responded sheepishly. “But I will tell you this: Several men in attendance, myself included, approached the young man to usher him out. He was drunk, and most of what he was saying could be summed up to that. Perhaps he would have been forgiven. His reputation could never be polished, but forgiven, nonetheless.

“But before we could get him to leave, he committed his worst offense. We were about to guide him outside, but he stormed away on his own. We thought it was to leave of his own accord, so no one followed.” Edward took a breath, his face now red with anger as he prepared to share what happened next. “But Arthur had gone to the kitchens, where some dessert was being prepared. He took a large bowl of cream, marched back into the ballroom, and spilled it on top of Abigail, yelling obscenely about how maybe Abigail would… Lord, forgive me. How Abigail would say yes to this cream.”

“Say yes to this cream?” John asked sheepishly. “You mean the vulgarity he was yelling- “

“I won’t dishonor my niece by repeating every bit of rubbish ranted against her, but Arthur made it abundantly clear to the room that he wanted something that Abigail would not consent.”

“Lord in Heaven!” John exclaimed, gaining the attention of some nearby. He turned and looked around for Arthur, now furious at the insults against his son’s betrothed.

“Voice down, please, John,” Edward turned John back and calmed him, even though the tone in his own voice shook with rage at the memory of this night. “He shouted this to the whole ball, who now began to whisper their opinions. For shame, the insults I heard whispered against Abigail – calling her prudish or insulting her place as a woman. Some of them decided she must have gone through with it anyway, and called her worse insults than Arthur did. I will not tell you the names who spoke these things, lest your opinion of these families be as low as mine.

“Well, for Arthur, this was the nail in the coffin, as several of us now grabbed him to carry him away. There was no polite ushering now. Thankfully, Franklin was being held back himself, or he might have shot the damn boy.

“The moment Arthur was thrown out of the ball, so the whole Bennett family was thrown out of high society. No more invitations to parties, no more visits from friends, and they were even cut off from certain business opportunities that their wealth relied on. All for Arthur’s drunken stupor. It did not matter that some opinions in defense of Arthur had been uttered. No one dared to mix their own reputation with that of Arthur Bennett.”

John was now ashamed for giving Arthur the time of day, though Edward assured him he was not to blame. Though, after the extensive story that was told, they realized that they had lost sight of Arthur. The men grew worried and alerted more of the Westerly family’s staff at once to find him and be ready to remove him from the house. They tried to search around for Arthur without causing a scene, as ideally they could remove him from the ball without anyone knowing he was there, especially not Abigail.

Arthur knew the Westerly house very well, so he chose to walk through some of the back hallways instead of straight through the ballroom, knowing that he might be forced to leave were he seen too soon. He knew he was unwanted, not only for how his presence would upset Abigail, but because the entire Westerly family now despised him. He feared what Franklin might do almost as much as he feared what Ellen might do.

Despite this, Arthur was on a mission to redeem his family. He hoped that, were he to come and publicly make amends for what he’d done, perhaps there was a chance his family would be allowed back into high society. Not for the balls, or the social life, but because they needed the connections for their estate. Though the Bennetts were certainly not poor, the money they had would not last forever without enterprise. Being excommunicated from the commerce of these mighty families kept the Bennetts from furthering their security.

John and Edward found Abigail, James, Lydia and William together and approached them. Edward tried to take Abigail away from the main room without raising her suspicion, while John walked over to his son to inform him what was happening. Abigail could tell something was wrong by the way her uncle was behaving, while both James and William were angry at the mention of Arthur’s name. And then, before anyone could leave or take action, there he was.

“John,” Arthur spoke politely, “might you please introduce me to your son? I must congratulate him, being so lucky to be engaged to Abigail. I should know what that luck feels like, though it is all water under the bridge, I trust.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” said James curtly, before his father could answer, “but it is best that you leave this house, Arthur.”

“You should not have come here at all,” William spoke to Arthur, now standing beside James.

“I do not intend to stay long,” Arthur said, still looking directly at James, as he never liked William. “However I would be honored if I could shake your hand, James.” Arthur held out his hand to James.

Abigail finally noticed Arthur and let out a gasp that overtook many conversations in the ballroom. All attention now on the growing scene, Edward guided Abigail away from the room and patted William on the shoulder as he left. William nodded his head at Uncle Edward, though his glare was steadily on Arthur, who continued to ignore him while focusing his attention on James.

“I will not shake your hand,” James said, “and you need to leave.”

“Well, no offense taken,” said Arthur now forcing his voice to be polite as he lowered his hand. “This sure looks to be an elegant evening, and you must be proud to have secured that banner for your family.” Arthur not only meant the Canterbury banner itself, but also his family’s now elevated seat in society.

“Thank you, but you must be going.”

“You should not have come here at all, pig,” William said angrily. James tried to keep up appearances to the audience that now stood around them, but William’s reputation could not be tarnished in this house.

“I must admit, James, you are probably right,” Arthur ignored William again, “but allow me to share why I came at all. Not only do I owe an apology for entering this celebration without invitation, but for my behavior in the past. I was emotional, I drank too much wine, and I was an absolute boar, a pig indeed,” despite acknowledging the insult, Arthur did not look at William.

“Forgiveness is not mine to give,” said James. “Even if it were, I dare not promise I would give it to you. Your behavior showed you never cared for Abigail. You cared only for what you could gain from her. Not only with your impatience, but your greed.” James took a deep breath, debating if he should continue. He chose to: “Indeed, it is greed that brought you here tonight, I am sure. Edward once aided your family’s estate. I have no doubt you miss high society while your debt grows and your purse dwindles.” Arthur cleared his throat at this insult, though said nothing in response.

“I cannot dishonor my future wife by offering you anything other than a peaceful exit from this home,” James concluded.

“A peaceful exit which you must take, now,” said William, now stepping slightly forward. “I will not deny your intentions, but your presence here is ill-guided and unwanted.” William then leaned over to James to whisper in his ear so only he could hear: “If trouble arises, I shall take the lead.” Arthur noticed the whispering between the two men, and he grew angry that his attempt at reconciliation was failed.

“Good William,” Arthur finally acknowledged him, “Always a loyal servant boy, just as I remember. Though, now with a new master, apparently.” When he said this, Arthur patted James on the chest.

“You have been warned,” James began, “and I ask you not lay your hands on me again.”

“You know,” Arthur interrupted, “perhaps my family may be better off being done with you all indeed. These fortunate halls have never shared their good harvest. And James, I wish you good luck navigating the cold heart of Abigail.”

“Only for you could her heart be so cold,” said William.

“How might you ever know of it? The only love she could feel for the servant boy was like the love of a family dog. Less, even.”

“You have caused enough trouble in this house. Have you not been dragged out of enough parties for one lifetime?”

“Such sensitivity. I thought the lower class were built hardier than this!”

“Worry not,” said James, “your family will know the hardiness of the poor all too soon.”

Arthur shoved James after this comment, which admittedly James would come to regret saying. John, who was hopeful for Arthur’s calm exit, now yelled over to the Westerly staff to remove Arthur at once. Franklin now approached the scene with stomps that shook the hall, having heard what was happening. James was ready to strike Arthur, but William rushed between the two men to stop them, having a hand on each of them to stop the quarrel.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen!” William shouted, a firm grip still on both Arthur and James as he stood in the middle. “This is enough.” William turned to James. “My friend, no man should ever engage in such a match during the celebration of his own engagement.”

William slowly unhanded both the former and current of Abigail’s engagements, as they stopped their lunging attempts at one another. William then turned back to James.

“Arthur was right,” William spoke, “in this house I am a servant of the family. Allow me to be of service, my friend.” In an instant, William turned and struck Arthur in the face with great strength, knocking him back to the ground as the room filled with gasps and several glasses falling to the floor.

This strike may have been ill-advised, but there was no sign of Arthur leaving on his own terms. Further, it had to be William to do the deed. James was still making an impression on many guests, and they may have had mixed opinions if their first meeting of the young man included fisticuffs.

On the contrary, everyone in attendance knew who William was, and as has been said, his reputation could not be tarnished in this house. Beyond that, William had a unique position in high society that allowed him to behave in many grey areas: Though he was welcome among them, both socially and in business, most high families saw William as low-born. For better or worse, their judgmental point of view allowed him to punch Arthur unconscious without any stain on his own name. It was simply William being William: A loyal servant, to the end.

Arthur was picked up by his armpits and physically dragged out, now for the second time in his life. Abigail and Ellen walked over seeing that the drama was done. Franklin walked over and put his arms around both William and James.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Franklin announced, “though tonight is first and foremost about my dear daughter, I cannot sit still on my pride for my boys here!” With a laugh, Franklin requested full glasses be brought to James, William, and himself. When the glasses were brought, he continued. “May this not be the last toast of the night,” Franklin said raising his glass, “but God blessed me with a daughter. Then God blessed my daughter with a brother named William, and a husband named James. I would be honored, together with their good fathers, to call them sons of mine!”

The ballroom applauded Franklin, now turning their attention from the uncomfortable events that took place. Franklin gathered their attention again and proposed a toast to the engagement of Abigail and James. It was a speech he had long prepared, in which he spoke of his daughter and all of the wonderful things about her. He shared a few stories about her that he was known to tell again and again.

He then spoke of James, with nothing but the highest complements of his attributes as well as what a fit he was for Abigail. He wished them good luck, and then joked how even if their marriage would present hard times, everyone tonight had seen that it could always be worse. The ballroom now cheered as Abigail and James embraced, while the music and dancing and drinking continued.

“Are you all right?” Lydia asked William. The two finally rejoined after the commotion and Franklin’s speech.

“Oh I’ll be fine,” William responded to her as she held his hand, inspecting some bruising from the strike. With his other hand, he grabbed a glass of wine which he handed to Lydia, and then another for himself. They clinked their glasses together and shared a drink.

“You acted very quickly, love. And what was it you said? ‘Only for you could her heart be so cold.’ Strong words for another woman.” Abigail sipped her wine again, looking to William for a response.

“Oh, my Lydia. Abigail is like a sister to me. Please hold no jealousy, I meant nothing by those words that should cause you worry.” William was annoyed to even hear the question, not only because it implied any longing for Abigail, but that his own wife-to-be was the one questioning him so.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Lydia said. “Still, an awfully strong reaction in defense of another woman’s honor.”

“Again,” William said exasperated, “a woman who is like a sister, I would defend her honor to my death. Any member of the house of Westerly, I would defend them so.”

“As you would mine?”

“I am to be your husband. To my death, were it necessary, I would defend your honor.” William paused for a moment, waiting for a response from Lydia though she only looked back at him inquisitively. He continued: “Though, my dear, I do wonder: If your honor were questioned, where might I stand in the questioning?” The two stood quietly, turning away from one another. William’s statement was too mild to warrant a reaction, though Lydia could not help but ponder such implications to herself. Neither walked away, nor did either speak to the other.

Abigail looked over to them and noticed that something was wrong. She did not hear their conversation, but she could see it by the way they behaved: Standing without a smile, sipping wine without merriment, and swaying to the music in solace while ever close to a dance partner. Abigail had been so distracted, she forgot any strange feeling against Lydia until this moment reminded her. Though, now, it could not be so ignored, and she worried for the arrangement between the two of them.

After several more hours, the festivities concluded and all of the guests who were not spending the night left the homestead. Abigail, James, Lydia, and William stayed up later to continue conversations. Abigail and Lydia were able to get along a little better than before, which did give Abigail’s worrying mind some relief, though not immensely. James and William formalized their plans for a hunting trip with great excitement, before they all went to bed separately and concluded the eventful evening.