The Jacobites' Plight: A powerful and gripping historical drama (The Jacobites' Saga Book 2) by Morag Edwards

Author:Morag Edwards [Edwards, Morag]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books - Historical Fiction
Published: 2024-02-21T00:00:00+00:00

The invite came only a few weeks later, hand-delivered by a servant in breeches, coat and wig. He stepped down from a well-presented coach, badged with the insignia of the new British king, George II. Mary had been resting in the courtyard and hearing the approach of horses, ran to the gates. A coach paused further down the narrow street, as if the coachman was searching for a particular house. Abandoning all dignity and protocol she called out, waving her hands above her head, and ran to take the letter from the servant’s hand. She woke her tousled and confused aunt, and together they broke the seal and unfurled the manuscript. It was from Sir Benjamin Keene, the British Consul General for Spain, inviting them to a social gathering at the ambassador’s residence, only one week later. Mary tumbled downstairs, called the maid from her siesta, and using a combination of gesticulating and shouting in French and English, demanded that she and her aunt be measured for dresses – at once. Unprepared for such unguarded emotion in the middle of the afternoon, the maid screamed and ran away.

The following morning, Mary sought the maid in the shady kitchen, which smelt of garlic and something rancid, like cloths left damp for too long. The girl turned at the sound of her mistress and gripped the edge of the table with both hands, as if she wanted to escape.

This is ridiculous, Mary thought, I’m not an ogre. She smiled, hoping to reassure the maid that she was a calm and reasonable person. She pointed to her robe, frowning theatrically at its shabby folds, then gestured above to her aunt’s bedroom, holding up two fingers, meaning that two dresses were needed. This performance was repeated, with cutting movements across the table, where they both frowned at the imaginary cloth. Mary’s final attempt brought success, as she laid coins on the table, next to the phantom bolster of fabric.

That afternoon, the maid’s sister arrived with a tape measure and pins. Teresa was different; confident, garrulous and with a smattering of English. Mary decided she didn’t have to like the woman. Teresa had the one quality that was required; she was a dressmaker.

On the evening of the party, their coach dropped them at the gates of a residence somewhere near the Royal Alcázar. Like their home, it was surrounded by a high wall, but any resemblance to their farmhouse ended once through the gates. Wide, tiled steps, the balustrade mounted with urns trailing early autumn blooms of red and white, carried them upwards towards an open door.

Their invitation was checked inside the entrance, in the cool of a dark, high-ceilinged hallway. Open panelled doors beyond the stairwell heralded music and the murmur of voices. A different servant led them into the salon, a long room decorated in Parisian style but with a lighter, more delicate palette of pale ochre. After the shady hall, Mary blinked in the bright sunlight flooding from floor-to-ceiling windows.

They were loudly

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.