Saturday, 02 September—It was Never a Peaceful Supper upon Mother's Arrival to Bloodham Hall

Mother shall arrive at evening. Shall I tell her I merely admire my dear Gilbert as he began to spoil me much? Alas my poor thing, he was just a poor widowed man who had treated me as his dearest deceased wife that he had loved dearly; yet my family forbids me to betroth and court someone aged more than five years, either older or younger, regardless of such wealth, till our situation is brought to Point Non Plus.

Mother and Uncle Charles came hither as they banged up to the mark as they arrived on time. Mother was in despair as she rushed to the drawing room as I fiddled Boccherini's Minuet. She was still in despair till the music faded as she began feeling gay upon reuniting her dear son. It was a foolish decision to stay with a poor thing like Gilbert. ‘Oh no, my poor Colin, how did a rake like Gilbert ruin you?’

Forsuch dreaded statement, I remained silent when her face wrinkled, and her tawny locks of hair faded into dullness. Miss Collins comforted Mother from despair. Her gratitude and kindness rose to felicity as she thanked poor Miss Collins; for she had forgotten her master’s poor treatment upon her. Miss Collins guided Mother and I for supper. The supper had started; Mother began to be displeased towards Gilbert; and Uncle Charles bragged Father’s achievements, hitherto please Gilbert; yet Gilbert was startled upon Mother’s displeasure as I remained silent as I finished my supper. Gilbert began to stare at me as he seemed infatuated with his dear Peggy. I was displeased as he started a conversation of courtship and an offer of marriage. ‘If that poor thing was a lady, I shall offer him for marriage.’

Mother cried aloud as she burst herself into anger, ‘Nay you bloody rake! My son is quite young for an offer of marriage to a widower like you. He is young for a gentleman and nineteen years of age, the same age when poor Agnes disappeared.’

‘Mary, ‘tis enough!’ Uncle Charles warned her, ‘I cannot believe that your harsh, haughty words would hurt Gilbert’s rep. You must know that you shall not rot yourself into this mess.’

‘Charles, I am his mother, and I have been grieving over the loss of my dear sister. Can you not make such a haughty statement like that to your brother’s husband whose rank is higher than yours? I am protecting my own sons and daughter from naughty examples like Gilbert. And for you, my dear Colin, since you finished your meal, I suggest that you must leave Bloodham with your mother and your uncle by Monday since to-morrow is Sunday, and we cannot come into our stagecoach on Sundays.’

‘Yea Mother, I understand; but it seems that Gilbert was alone, without his wife and a companion to be taken care of.’

I left for the drawing room after supper was ruined by a displeased dudgeon from Mother and Gilbert after I left to the drawing room as Uncle Charles left supper. I knew she would never be pleased with this supper. Mother approached me as she was drowning with dudgeon, she seemed to know that Gilbert treated me as a rake’s muse than the eldest surviving son of a peer.

Sunday, 03 September—The Reverend

Today is Sunday since Mother and Uncle Charles decided to stay in Bloodham. They were guided by Miss Collins to tour around the manor before breakfast; yet I was headed to the morning room with Gilbert, checking the rent of his fellow tenants before our breakfast as we shall be heading to the abbey every Sunday of the week as Gilbert only remains in the manor as a Catholic. Miss O’Connor dashed to the morning room as she announced, ‘The breakfast is ready, sir.’

‘Quite excellent my dear Missy O’Connor. What about the old barren Countess of St Ives and Baron Perkins? Hoping that their arrival to the dining room is early as they have banged up the mark—unlike my poor Lord Mousehole’s tour.’

‘Sir, I—’ Miss O’Connor delayed her statement of the news, pending their arrival as Gilbert frowned upon her as he blamed Miss Collins. ‘Sir, they had arriv’d thither ‘n time; but don’t be cruel to my dearest Pamela. I knew she’s well-disciplined for a young maid like I; yet she became more sensible after yer very own wife died. Do ye understand, sir?’

Gilbert remained silent after Miss O’Connor warned his habit of haughty behaviour as I could observe his stern face if his own servants observed his own despotic behaviour, as revenge was taken against their own master. ‘You’ve spoken too much for a maid, Missy O’Connor. I’m glad they arrived on time, just as usual.’ Gilbert ignored her response regarding his cruel treatment of poor young Miss Collins as Miss O’Connor bowed to her master as she headed to her own chores as she would prepare breakfast for her master and my own family.

It was quite too early, at eight o’ clock in the morning when breakfast started. Mother did not speak much to Gilbert; yet her face looked stern as she stared at me, her own son, as I kept observing a flock of church owls sleeping in the trees. I was hurried to eat a few buns and a sip of cocoa before we headed to the nearest abbey; it took less than thirty minutes to arrive by walking from hitherto the nearby church before the sermon was started by The Rev. Mr Archibald O’Vile, Gilbert’s second older brother.

The Reverend was the second O’Vile relative I met in this town after his younger brother. He never married nor had any by-blows as his lifestyle opposed Gilbert’s rakish habits. He is often welcomed to Bloodham after the sermon has ended as he visits hither, always welcomed by his own younger brother.

Monday, 04 September—Farewell to My Dearest Mother

Yesterday was Sunday as Mother and Uncle Charles delayed their journey to Penworth. They left early after breakfast at ten o’clock when she wept as she and Uncle Charles bid ‘Good-bye’; for I chose to stay with Gilbert; but I never ought to leave Trinity until now. Gilbert wanted me to prepare to leave Bloodham for tomorrow since we shall be heading to Berkshire for a good situation with a friend. For young Miss Collins, he ought to leave that poor maid behind as he assigned his Spanish footman Mr Garcia as my valet; yet Pamela remained hither as her position as my maid remains if I ought to return hither.

The Reverend remained hither to be in charge in Bloodham Hall when Gilbert is away from his estate.

Thursday, 08 September—A Commission for Gilbert

Upon returning to his own manor, Gilbert commissioned a portrait for me from a friend and familiar name, Sir Lawrence Campbell, Kt., a renowned painter, respected by his patrons as I met him as a youth since my close relatives are his respected patrons for the knighted painter. The Marquis and Marquise de Guerre, and his dear friend Gilbert are also his patrons and friends as the Marquis and his wife are known as patrons for Gilbert’s plays. He requested his dear friend to finish the portrait before his natal day—dated 14th of September. He requested for a young lad to be covered by a long blue scarf, once belonged to his late wife as I was sitting next to a golden jar. Upon hearing the conversation, I was ordered by my dear Gilbert's request. I dressed as a handsome Trojan prince tempted by Jove as Gilbert was quite impressed of me as Ganymede.

Thursday, 14 September—Unto His Natal Day

This is quite a fortunate day for Gilbert since it is his natal day today.  The carriage moved further South as we returned to Berkshire for a commissioned portrait. ‘You shall ne’er tell this to Elinor.’ He gave me a letter, a story of a widowed gentleman courting a youthful maiden. It was told from a widowed gentleman’s view of a maiden for which I summarised:

As a maiden courted a widowed gentleman's nephew by a stroll onto the gardens, The old gentleman was infatuated upon the maiden's beauty which reminds of his dear deceased wife. After a stroll with the widowed gentleman’s nephew, his uncle began to court the young maiden. His nephew was displeased upon his uncle’s courtship towards his dear young maiden. The gentleman and his nephew began to duel over the maiden till his nephew met his own demise. The maiden and her family were displeased upon the gentleman. They’re aware of a fatal duel with his nephew—the maiden's suitor. The marriage between the maiden and his nephew was arranged by her parents. The gentleman abducted the maiden from her family, never to be seen again as the gentleman and the maiden eloped as the young maiden was never pleased upon him as his bride.

It was too grotesque as romance, close enough to be a gothic tragedy of a prudish youthful lady; for I noticed that the story felt familiar. ‘Yea, 'tis terrific.’ I never lied upon keeping these letters. We returned to the manor in Berkham, near Edgemont and Reading. Gilbert lived in the manor for certain events, for social seasons and familial occasions upon visiting his very own family. ‘Sir Lawrence Campbell has arrived, Master Gilbert.’ His manservant announced to his master the arrival of Sir Lawrence Campbell. Gilbert approached Sir Lawrence as he welcomed his entrance, ‘Welcome my dear friend Lawrence—was it finished yet?’

‘Twas already finished for you, Mr Gilbert O'Vile,’ Sir Lawrence Campbell replied as Gilbert welcomed him, ‘and I am glad you came, Lord Mousehole. Your brother is an excellent apprentice.’ Sir Lawrence continued his conversation upon me as I gave a stern expression opposed to his utterly gay expression since I had never known that Sir Lawrence was Alec's mentor. 

‘Oh! Don’t give such a frown face, dear young lad. Your mother sent me a letter for you yesterday.’ Sir Lawrence gave a letter from Mother that I shall be reading after he leaves the manor. Sir Lawrence presented us with a portrait of me as Ganymedes. Gilbert was grateful since this portrait was a present for him as he turned one-and-forty. 

‘But I’m quite sorry my dear Gilbert, the portrait shall be displayed somewhither in Willowcombe House after it would be displayed hither in this small manor, Lord Mousehole, for my client's mere satisfaction.’ His response agreed upon displaying the portrait on Willowcombe. I never agreed upon this since it was a commission made for Gilbert; but it was strangely queer for Sir Lawrence to send a commissioned portrait for a dear friend; yet the Marquis de Guerre and his family would be pleased upon its display.

‘Splendid! He shall be a perfect suitor for a marriage for one of his daughters. I know that your family are great friends with these fellow French aristocrats.’ His expression seems to approve of the decision before Gilbert could offer him breakfast that is late as an hour before noon. 

I was given a letter from my dear friend by Sir Lawrence an hour after breakfast in the drawing room as he replied, ‘Also ‘noth’r letter for you, Lord Mousehole. From Mr Benjamin Hawkins, a friend of yours.’

‘I heard Mr Benjamin Hawkins is courting Lady Désirée, a younger daughter of the Marquis de Guerre. I hope you court their youngest daughter Lady Monique since ‘tis your chance, but please, make your dear mother proud.’ He whispered as it was started three months before since I heard of Benjamin’s situation with Lady Désirée; yet he encouraged me to marry another daughter of the Marquis himself, in which I had disagreed upon unless this marriage was arranged by my own mother; yet she never told me once for now; but Sir Lawrence left after our tea time at three o’clock before I could open and read her short and brief letter as she warned me to leave Gilbert despite his sympathies. 

PENWORTH HOUSE—My Dearest Son,

It was my fault that I allowed you to stay in Edgemont Manor. As your own mother, I wish you should have told me where you ought to stay before you were caged with a foolish man. If I could tell you about your aunt, she was taken away from your uncle after your father and I left Venice. She was my only sister. I do not wish you to suffer within her fate, beside a man who took her away from me and her purest virtue before marriage. Also, your friend Benjamin is hither for a week stay in Penworth before his departure from this country. Shall the Lord bless you all, &c.

The Countess of St Ives

I should never have allowed Gilbert to read these letters aloud since I retreated to my bedroom to see these letters alone with comfort despite it was against Gilbert’s orders to read letters without his presence. I had betrayed him for his natal day for my own sake of privacy that I could not bear his orders; yet I must have to please him for his sympathy as a widowed dramatist since his wife was departed by death for his giving son’s life as a holy sacrifice.

PENWORTH HOUSE—For My Dear Friend,

It was strange when you never stayed in Stratsberry House when you passed by north to Lancashire several months ago since you stayed thither if you ought to go north. It was a shock when the Countess of St Ives told me the news that you stayed in Bloodham Manor. My grandfather and uncle Ebenezer never told me of your arrival when you arrived in Bloodham. Bloodham is near Stratsberry; yet my grandfather told me stories of a vengeful baronet who lived in Bloodham. Either your mother or father told you the story of late Sir Edward’s life. As your distant cousin and beloved friend, you should never lie about this for your own safety and may the Lord bless you.

Benjamin Hawkins

Monday, 18 September—For Dear Ganymedes

Poem for my Dear Ganymede by Gilbert Edgar O’Vile

For my dear’st Ganymede, 

Handsomest amongst these mere mortals,

A young Trojan was abducted by Jupiter,

The king amongst gods as a miracle offers,

Jove bestowed the young prince a sip of ambrosia, for his eternal life.

His mere infatuation led him to be his own cupbearer,

That led Juno, his wife, to lose her temper;

O’er his passion and infatuation o’ ladies, 

He has chosen a handsome young man,

Into his place where the gods belong.

I cannot regret being a muse and companion of a poor widowed actor and dramatist as he spoiled me with poems, stories and commissions as he spoiled his dearest wife, alas for this poor thing. I have been tempted by his rotten affection for such drafts of poems of Greek love for which I shall not deny for me to receive a poem he had written. Alas my poor Gilbert, I have promised that I shan’t depart you till our very own deaths; for you shall haunt me for eternity as a ghost after your very own departure; yet I cannot ignore what you have done for your own poor wife as you made your haughty decisions over that poor maid!