Lady Lambert's Adventures

by

Peter Argonis

© 2005, 2024

Synopsis

A Foreword by the Author

Chapter 1 - Melissa Martin

Chapter 2 - Home Again

Chapter 3 - Paying a Call

Chapter 4 - The Honourable Anthony Carter

Chapter 5 - Leda

Chapter 6 - A Passage to India

Chapter 7 - Doctor Donovan

Chapter 8 - Agreement

Chapter 9 - The Overland Route

Chapter 10 - The Quays of Rosetta

Chapter 11 - The Turners

Chapter 12 - Rewards

Chapter 13 - The Princess Royal

Chapter 14 - A River Journey

Chapter 15 - Marie de Perigneaux

Chapter 16 - At the Bavarian Court

Chapter 17 - A Most Accomplished Wife

Chapter 18 - Quod Licet Iovi…

Chapter 19 - A Deplorable Accident

Chapter 20 - Dark Secrets and Artistic Freedom

Chapter 21 - Cousin Lucas

Chapter 22 - Widows and Second Sons

Chapter 23 - Coaxing a Mule

Synopsis

As Richard's wife, Ellen is now styled Lady Lambert and travels America, India, Egypt, Bavaria and France at his side. She becomes a patron of the arts, a confidante of the young Princess Victoria, and a matchmaker for her family, friends and protégés, always striving to share the good fortunes she enjoys herself. Rewritten with added content.

A Foreword by the Author

This second book, Lady Lambert's Adventures, covers the years 1830 to 1836 in the life of Ellen Carter, 3rd Baroness Lambert (1808-1900). Like the first book, Ellen Trilby, it evolved from the serial story Ellen, posted at storiesonline.net between 2005 and 2008. The plot follows that of the original story, since I am still quite content with it. Still, no editor was involved in the original versions, and the story went through three revisions over the years, always fixing bits and pieces.

This Bookapy version was once again revised by correcting continuity errors, vocabulary and syntax, rewriting paragraphs and deleting the last chapter, Closure, since it is an unwarranted tear jerker, and a roadblock for the planned sequel covering the later life of may heroine and her husband.

Also, several people from the universe now have their due appearances, since it would have been unlikely for Richard and Ellen not to meet the friends and close acquaintances of their parents. I also eliminated graphic descriptions of sexuality, making it fit for a wider readership. Most importantly — for me — it is now written in the style which I developed over the last years.

The original serial story, Ellen, will stay available at storiesonline.net for those who want their reading with a bit of spice in it. For now, the less adult and more grown-up Lady Lambert's Adventures is only available on Bookapy.

A small village in Northern Germany

August, 2024

Chapter 1 - Melissa Martin

September 1830

Lady Lambert and her sister in law, Eleanor Carter, were inspecting the cabins assigned to them for their crossing from London to Boston in the Amelia Anne packet. They looked comfortable enough. The ship was a solidly built clipper, constructed to give passengers a maximum of comfort, and Rear Admiral Sir Anthony Carter, Lady Lambert’s father in law had personally selected the ship for them. After all, it would carry his only children, Richard Lord Lambert and Eleanor Carter, and also his daughter in law.

Refusing to wait in London, Eleanor had persuaded her brother Richard to escort her to Boston, there to find her fiancé and bring him relief. Her sister-in-law, newly we and expecting a child, rather than seeing her husband leave her alone for months, joined them in their undertaking.

Since the Atlantic hurricane season had not ended yet, the Amelia Anne would sail a northern route, and her captain expected the crossing to take five to six weeks. They would weigh anchor in the next morning, and the three young people had come aboard before nightfall so that the ship might use the first light of the morning to sail. Neither Lady Lambert, the former Ellen Wilkes née Trilby, not her sister in law had even sailed in an ocean-going ship, and they were a little apprehensive. Richard had travelled by sea before as an infant and young boy, when his mother, Lady Harriet Carter, had followed her husband to overseas stations, but his memories were dim. Still, he maintained a stoical composure, conscious of his standing as a peer of the realm.

They were on their way to aid Eleanor’s fiancé, Don Antonio Ruiz y Costa, who had travelled to his native Colombia to settle his affairs — he had been the Colombian ambassador to the Court of St. James — and had suffered a ship wreck on the return journey. The survivors were picked up by a Boston whaler, and thus, Antonio landed up penniless in Boston. With the help of the friendly British consul, he had sent letters to his mother and his fiancée, advising them of his survival, but also of the dire straits in which he found himself. Eleanor Carter, a resolute and strong willed young woman, insisted on bringing her fiancé the needed funds and documents personally, an endeavour that her mother only allowed after her brother Richard agreed to accompany her. Being newly wed, his wife Ellen insisted on joining the mission, hoping to have her husband to herself for the journey.

Therefore, Ellen and Richard settled in one cabin, whilst Eleanor took the other, whilst the two servants they had to take along — travelling without servants was not in keeping with the dignity of a peer — lodged a deck below. Ellen and Eleanor had picked the former's confidential servant, Millicent Wade, an orphan girl like Ellen who was fiercely loyal to her mistress, whilst Richard was taking along his manservant Orville, a new hire.

They had a basket of food and wines with them, which they shared as supper, and then went to sleep, excited over their impending adventure. Come the morning, they were woken by the noises of the ship weighing anchor and the topmen loosing the sails, but when they had dressed and stepped up to the main deck, the Amelia Anne was already under way under topsails. With a western wind and the running tide, the ship was making good way downriver, and when the tide turned, they were already past Sheerness and heading for Margate. They were rounding the North Foreland at dusk, heading for the Channel.

During the first days of the journey, they were favoured by friendly autumn weather, and the Amelia Anne made excellent progress. The three young people were lucky enough not to be affected by sea sickness like a few of their fellow passengers. To his surprise, Richard found out that another officer from the Foreign Office was travelling with them. Mister Perceval Edwards was the replacement for the helpful Colonel MacAlister, the British consul in Boston, and he travelled with his wife, Victoria, and they were both delighted to no end at travelling with a Peer of England and his wife and sister. They spent pleasant evenings in the main cabin where they shared a table. Other passengers were less pleasant. An elderly minister with his rather young wife looked with disapproval at the displays of affection between Richard and Ellen, harmless as they were. When Eleanor confessed that she was on her way to her marooned fiancé, they were shocked.

“I would let no daughter of mine travel to a foreign land!” the minister exclaimed.

“My parents gave me a good upbringing,” Eleanor answered sweetly. “This is why they can trust me.”

That did it, and for rest of the journey the couple did not speak to Eleanor, which was just fine with her.

True to their captain’s predictions, they arrived in Boston Harbour forty days after their departure, and their first worry was to find lodgings for the next three weeks. That accomplished, they set out for the British consulate.

Sir Humbert MacAllister was an imposing figure. Tall, with red hair and impressive sideburns, he was nevertheless a friendly and helpful man. Once he had learned the identity of his visitors, he ordered his own coach to transport them to Antonio’s address. Eleanor could hardly suppress her excitement whilst the coach rolled through the strange town.

At last, the coach lurched to a halt in front of a four-story building. Richard alighted and helped Ellen and his sister. They looked at the house; it was not at all what they were accustomed to, but is was not run-down either. Richard led the small group into the stairwell, and they ascended to the second floor. There were four doors, and Sir Humbert had said it was the second. Richard knocked, but there was no answer. He knocked once more, and suddenly the door next to them opened, and a woman showed.

“You’re looking for the Spaniard?” she inquired.

"Yes, indeed," Richard answered, bowing slightly.

“You’ll have to look on the top floor, with the Martin woman. That’s where he usually is.”

With that, she slammed her door shut. Richard raised his eyebrows, and led the small group up another two flights. There was just one door up here, and Richard knocked.

“One moment please!” a pleasant female voice called from within, and Ellen noticed that Eleanor was ready to bolt.

“Easy there, Eleanor,” she said, “you don’t want to jump to conclusions, believe me!”

That was sound advice, but Eleanor felt panic. The door opened, and her fears solidified. The woman who opened was certainly very attractive. A full bosom seemed to stretch a paint-smeared smock to the breaking point. Her hair, dark brown, was curly, and tied in a frayed braid. Her face, with large, brown eyes and a generous mouth, was friendly, and this was underscored by the dimples that showed when she smiled. She looked at her visitors questioningly.

“Madam,” Richard started, “we were told that Antonio Ruiz y Costa would be found here.”

“Who wants to know?” the woman inquired, not unfriendly, but guarded. Her voice was rich and cultivated.

“I am Richard Carter, Lord Lambert. This is my wife Ellen, and this is my…”

“She must be Eleanor!” the woman said excitedly and laughed. “Poor Antonio speaks of you all the time! You came all the way from England to pick him up? How sweet of you! Come in, my dear,” she gushed and pushed Eleanor in and into a large, well-lit room. Richard followed, but Ellen held back, trying to gauge the woman. She had to smile when she heard the happy shriek from Eleanor and gave the woman a friendly nod. The woman stared at her with an open mouth.

———

Melissa Martin considered herself a reasonably happy person, in spite of the repercussions she had to endure for her choices. The daughter of a rich brewer and merchant, she had grown up with a better education than most other girls. Early on, she discovered that she loved to paint and sketch. At first, her parents had been amused at her artistic streak and had even allowed her to study the arts further, expecting her to dazzle men with her talent. When young Melissa steadfastly refused to select one of the numerous suitors, however, when she maintained her wish to become an artist for a living, her mother had all but disowned her. Her father had been disappointed, too, but at least he still acknowledged her existence, and he quietly supplied her with money for her living expenses. This was how she was able to afford the top story apartment where she painted and lived.

Three months ago, the displaced young Columbian had rented a second story room, and they had met in the stairwell. He had helped her carry her purchases upstairs, and they had started to talk. He had become a good friend to her, one who did not look down on her. For young Melissa, apart from being shunned by her family, carried another stigma. She had feelings for women, and for women only. Antonio had never looked at her with the smirk to which she was accustomed, and she had come to trust him. And he looked so good! Soon, the young man would sit for her, and she was even able to sell a few of those paintings.

When she opened her door to those visitors from England, her well-ordered little world turned topsy-turvy, for she looked into the eyes of the loveliest woman she had ever seen. The friendly smile with which the young woman looked at her did not waver when Melissa stared at her. There was understanding in those violet-blue eyes, but no withdrawal. Finally, Melissa was able to speak.

“Would you like to come in, Missus…, how do I address you properly?”

“Why not with Ellen?” the young woman suggested. “I’ve been Lady Lambert for only four months, and I still feel strange being addressed that way. Are you a friend of Antonio?”

“We are neighbours and friends, yes. Not that sort of friends, if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” Ellen responded with a friendly smile. “Are you a painter?”

“Yes, I was working with Antonio. He sits for me quite often.”

“I have never met a female painter,” Ellen said with appreciation. “Come to think about it, I can't see a reason why women should not paint. Will you show me your work?”

“Of course, why don’t you come in?”

They entered the atelier where an amused Richard watched his sister who was in a tight embrace will a half-naked Antonio. Ellen giggled delightedly, and walked over. Antonio looked up, and his eyes widened.

“You are here, too? I never expected you to come here. I would hug you, but Eleanor won’t let go.”

Ellen grinned and reached up to kiss his cheek.

“You had better dress before you hug me. Richard has a reputation as a duellist,” she laughed.

Eleanor finally let go of Antonio and walked over to Melissa.

“Miss Martin, Antonio has told me about you. I want to thank you for being his friend.”

She held out her hand, and Melissa shook it.

“This calls for a celebration,” Richard spoke up. “I have taken the liberty of reserving a room for you at our hotel, Antonio. We shall have another three weeks before our ship sails, and we should spend them in comfort. Your mother assembled clothes for you, and they are at the hotel. Perhaps, Miss Martin would care to join us for dinner?”

The young woman blushed.

“Only if you are sure that I shall not intrude on you,” she said, but Eleanor gave her a brief hug.

“Don’t be silly,” she smiled.

“I take it you will be moving, Antonio?” Melissa asked.

Antonio blushed. “I suppose,” he said. “I shall help you finish the painting, don't worry. Eleanor, Melissa needs two more sessions with me to finish. Would it be terribly thoughtless of me to ask for leave to sit for Melissa? She has helped me so much.”

“Can I watch?” Eleanor asked, hopefully.

“But of course,” the young painter said, relieved that she would be able to finish the last painting, for which she already had a buyer.

“This is wonderful!” they heard Ellen exclaim. She had wandered off and examined the half-finished painting of Antonio. “This is so lifelike, you’d think Antonio will start to speak at any moment. You must be very successful.”

“Not really,” Melissa laughed. “This is a city of religious people. They frown upon artists, the frown more upon a female artist, and they frown on women who chose to live alone.”

“You can take orders then?” Ellen asked excitedly. “Could I sit for you? I want Richard to have a painting of me for his office.”

Richard smiled, but he liked the idea. “I would love that,” he offered.

“Why, of course,” Melissa gushed. The thought of painting this alluring young woman made her all giddy with excitement.

“Wonderful!” Ellen smiled. “Will you have dinner with us? We’re staying at the Peabody. Do you know it?”

"With pleasure," Melissa almost whispered.

———

A half hour later, they had collected Antonio’s meagre possessions from his lodgings and loaded them onto the coach that took them back to their hotel. Richard had written a billet to Sir Humbert, inviting him to dinner as well. Antonio spent some time in the afternoon soaking in a large cast-iron bathtub, whilst an unashamed Eleanor puttered around him. Richard had debated where to draw the line, but his sister was so happy that he did not have the heart to curb her enthusiasm. The two joined Richard and Ellen at their table in the dining room after a whole afternoon spent in seclusion, and they radiated happiness.

A little while later, Sir Humbert arrived, accompanied by a good looking, dark-haired young woman whom he introduced as his daughter Colleen. He explained that his wife had passed away ten years ago, and that his daughter accompanied him everywhere his duty called him. Antonio thanked the consul again for his help. They learned that Sir Humbert and his daughter would also be passengers in the Amelia Anne for the journey back to England, his posting ended when Mister Edwards arrived.

Melissa Martin arrived a few minutes later, clearly in her best dress and rather self-conscious. She had tied her rich brown hair into a single, thick braid, falling over the back of her tobacco-coloured dress. The dress could barely contain the ample gifts nature had bestowed on her, and she was clearly ill at ease, especially seeing the other table partners in their well-tailored attire.

In her elation, Eleanor jumped up and hugged her, eying her with appreciation.

“You look fabulous, Miss Martin. It is a good thing that Antonio’s faithfulness is unwavering for you are surely a temptation to any man. Isn’t that so, Richard?”

Richard laughed easily. Since having reconciled with Ellen, he had become more sure of himself and of his wife. Knowing that Ellen would understand, he complimented Melissa, too.

“If you ever find painting too tasking, you can just as easily sit as a model.”

Antonio snorted. “Easily? Did you ever try to sit motionless for hours?”

That took away the attention from Melissa, and she gave Antonio a grateful smile. Antonio had to relate his adventures in more detail during the dinner, and Eleanor’s eyes remained glued to his lips. Unknowingly, and to the hidden amusement of nearly everybody else at the table, her hands pressed his arm fiercely whenever he related dangerous incidents. In the end, Ellen could not help herself. Laughingly, she bent over to Eleanor and patted her arm.

“Relax, Eleanor, he’s here, safe and sound.”

Eleanor blushed and smiled sheepishly receiving sympathetic smiles from all around.

“Can I help it if I feel with him?” she asked.

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Richard laughed. “Believe me, if it weren’t for our parents and Antonio’s mother, I would suggest that you marry instantly.”

Antonio nodded. “The thought crossed my mind, but I want my mother to witness my wedding.”

Colleen MacAlistair had been silent for most of the time. She had met the handsome young man a few times when Sir Humbert had invited him for dinner out of sympathy, and she had asked herself why he had not tried to woo her like most young men. Now, of course, she knew. Antonio and Eleanor were a match made in heaven. She then watched the other young couple. They were clearly past their first blinding love, settled into something deeper. They made the impression of having gone through hell and back, their love surviving and being stronger for it. A love like tempered steel, Colleen thought, the poet in her taking over, for writing poems as well as prose was her forte.

Her gaze then swept over the American woman, Melissa Martin. She was a painter, living on her own, defying her parents to persue her dream of becoming an artist. Colleen thought she understood her. She, too, did not look forward to being married to some young guards officer which was her likely outlook. Her dream was to become a renowned writer, being invited to the literary circles where the titans of the mind met. The news of Lord Byron’s death in Greece two years before had hit her like a hammer; now her fervent wish to meet him once in her life had been buried.

Suddenly, the object of her observation looked up, and the dark brown eyes were like deep ponds in which Colleen wanted to drown. She saw recognition and understanding in those eyes, and sadness. Yes, she understood. They would probably never meet again, never have a chance to find out how similar they felt and thought.

Melissa was distracted now, the conversation had turned towards the fact that she would portray Ellen. Melissa answered a few questions, and finally Colleen found the courage to speak.

“I have never seen a painter at work. Do you think I might come and watch you? We shall leave in three weeks, so it would have to be in the next weeks.”

“Are you interested in painting?” Melissa asked in her rich, captivating voice.

“I aspire to be a writer,” Colleen admitted, and the painter laughed.

“Let us trade then. I shall show you my painting, and you will show me your writings.”

“Agreed!” Colleen smiled, but then her smile fell somewhat. “May I, father?”

Sir Humbert had not seen the interaction between his daughter and the young American woman. Like everybody else around the table, he found Melissa Martin appealing, and he thought nothing of his daughter watching her whilst she painted.

“Of course, dear. Just make sure to let me know when you go and take the coach.”

The young women agreed to meet at Melissa's quarters in the next afternoon, for the first sketches of Ellen. In the meantime, Richard would help Antonio with obtaining the funds he needed to purchase for the homeward journey, and Sir Humbert insisted on the young peer to meet with several Boston merchants who had a high volume of trade with England. Richard agreed on a lunch, maintaining that he would have dinner with his wife and not with strangers.

After the men had their last glass of French Cognac brandy, Sir Humbert and his daughter offered their farewell and thanked for the invitation. They offered Melissa Martin a ride home in their coach, and Melissa accepted gratefully. On the way up to their rooms, Eleanor held her brother back.

“Richard, I am grateful for your help and understanding. That is why I shan't deceive you. I shall spend the night in Antonio’s room. I need to be with him, and he needs me. I promise, I shall not compromise myself.”

Richard smiled benevolently at his younger sister and showed her a key.

“Why do you think I took two adjacent rooms for you and Antonio? Here is the key for the connecting door. Be discrete though. Father will kill me if I allow you to get in trouble.”

Eleanor reached up and pulled her brother into a kiss.

“Thank you, you are a wonderful brother,” she whispered.

“It was Ellen’s idea,” Richard smiled.

“Oh no,” Eleanor groaned. “She’ll tease me mercilessly.”

“That’s a small price to pay,” Richard grinned and led his sister to her room.

———

When Richard entered his room, Ellen was sitting in front of a mirror, an oil lamp illuminating the corner. She was in the nude, and she examined herself in the mirror. Looking at Richard, she grimaced.

“I’m already showing,” she said accusingly. “Soon I’ll be bloated and you will not look at me anymore.”

Richard knelt behind his wife and hugged her, looking over her shoulder at the mirror image.

“Ellen, if possible, you look more beautiful than ever. Your breasts are filling out a bit, and I think your eyes are bigger now. I love the way you look. As for your belly, that’s hardly noticeable; and it is our child that is growing there. That only makes two persons for me to love.”

Ellen turned to kiss him.

“Who told you what to say? Your mother?”

Richard laughed.

“My father hinted that I should show my appreciation for you even more whilst you are with child.”

“Your father is a wise man. Take a page from his book.”

“He also said that women with child feel the urge quite strongly and that I should not neglect you,” Richard chuckled, gently rubbing her shoulders.

“Remind me to compliment your father for his insight,” Ellen answered, leaning back against her husband who began to nibble at her neck whilst his hands continued to caress her shoulders and arms.

“Let us move to the bed,” Richard whispered into her ear, raising goose pimples over her entire body.

During the five weeks on board the Amelia Anne, they had not been able to consummate their love with quite the intensity to which they had grown used. The wooden bulkheads provided little in the way of sound protection, and although they had been tempted to provoke the stupid minister with a noisy romp, they had decided that it would not be in keeping with the dignity of a peer.

Tonight, though, they were in a real room, the floor under them was solid, and the bed was dry and smelt fresh. Ellen laid back on the bed and smilingly crooked her finger at Richard, who needed no further encouragement, but rather hurriedly joined his wife.

———

When they lay side by side after their coupling, at once exhausted and invigourated, Ellen caressed Richard’s chest.

“I love you very much, Richard. To be with you now is worth all the troubles we had.”

“But for my stupidity, we could…”

“Shh! Do not for a moment take the blame for that misunderstanding. We were both too insecure to recognise what we had in each other. Now we know, and we shan’t fall into that trap again.”

“You are a treasure, Ellen. I cannot imagine my life without you now.”

“I feel the same. On a related subject, I hope that Eleanor can also have the happiness we enjoy.”

“She may just enjoy it as we speak,” Richard chuckled.

“Yes, I suspect the same. She asked me many questions during the passage. I do not doubt, though, that she will be a virgin bride.”

“Let us hope she will,” Richard sighed.

———

Meanwhile, Antonio and Eleanor were also lying side by side in the afterglow of a passionate exchange of pleasures.

“Where did you learn to please a woman so well?”

Antonio cleared his throat, at a loss of what to tell her.

“Tell me! You must have learned from an experienced woman. Come on, I know that you must have known women before me.”

“There was a woman, a servant, in our house in Cartagena. She was, she is a mulatta, a few years older than me. She was my lover and my tutor for a year. She taught me how to please a woman. Are you jealous of her?”

“No,” Eleanor said with conviction. “If it hadn’t been for her, you would not have known how to make me feel as good as you did. What happened to her?”

“When I left Cartagena to join the fight for freedom, I bought a farm for her and her family. The last I heard, she married a man from her village. I hope she is happy.”

“Antonio?”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“I can hardly wait for us to be married!”

“I feel the same, Eleanor. All those months in the whaler, it was your image before my inner eye that kept me sane.”

“I had your mother to give me strength. We have grown quite close. When everybody was telling us to accept that you were lost forever, we lent each other strength. We both felt that you were alive. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“No man could ever dream of a better bride,” Antonio whispered, lifting her face up and kissing her. They gave in to their passion once again, before drifting into sleep.

They awoke from a hesitant knock on their door.

"Who is it?" Antonio asked.

"It's Millicent, Don Antonio. Lady Lambert's compliments, and breakfast will be served in a quarter hour!”

“Ellen is my best friend, but one day I shall have to throttle her!” Eleanor grumbled, peering through her tangled strands of hair. Antonio smiled down on her.

“And don’t you smile at me at such an ungodly hour!” she continued.

Antonio was unfazed. Bending down, he buried his face in her stomach and blew a raspberry on her belly button. Eleanor shrieked and tried to dislodge him, but she got a merciless tickling for her troubles until she begged for mercy. In a huff, she picked up her night shirt and went back into her room to dress. Antonio was waiting in front of her room when she was finished, and together, they went down to the breakfast room where they were met with wide grins by Ellen and Richard.

“Not - a - word!” Eleanor demanded, pointing her finger at Ellen, who merely lifted her eyebrows.

“As I was saying, somebody must have been very sick tonight,” Ellen told Richard in conversational tone. “I distinctly heard this moaning and thrashing, and even cries of pain, I believe. Didn’t you hear it, too, Eleanor?”

Eleanor looked murder, but Antonio had a good-natured grin on his face.

“Stop teasing my fiancée, Ellen,” he smiled. “I believe I heard very similar sounds from next door.”

Ellen merely grinned back.

“What do you expect? That was our first night alone in a month, and we’ve been married for just three months.”

Antonio was confused. “I thought you planned to marry last year?”

“We would have,” Richard said quietly, “had it not been for my stupidity.”

“And mine,” Ellen added quickly. “But we found back together. And that is what counts. Eleanor can tell you.”

She bent over to Richard who kissed her tenderly. They continued their breakfast and planned the day. Richard and Antonio would cash in a bill of exchange to get spending money for Antonio. The young man wanted to purchase presents for the people who had helped him, Melissa and Sir Humbert and his daughter. For the first time, Eleanor admitted to her initial misgivings.

“When I heard that you spent most of your time with a woman, I nearly turned around,” she said, blushing slightly. “When she opened the door, she was so pretty, I would have run away had Ellen not stayed me.”

Ellen laughed. “You sweet, innocent girl!” she said, patting Eleanor’s hand. “Don’t you realise that Melissa Martin would prefer you over Antonio any time? Or rather, me. Her look was rather admiring and flattering, I have to admit.”

“You mean, she is…?” Richard did not know how to express himself. The word lesbian had not been coined yet, and the male equivalent he had heard at school did not seem to fit.

“She would be called ‘a confirmed spinster’, I suppose,” Ellen said, giggling at the euphemism. “But I like her. And her paintings are just fabulous.”

Eleanor gaped at her. “Do you really think so? I thought she was so nice. Should you really go to her studio then?”

“She is a painter, and she will not attack me. If I had a male painter portray me, you would not think of it as inappropriate, would you?”

“I suppose, you are right,” Eleanor conceded.

“Of course, she is right,” Antonio said. “Melissa is the kindest woman on earth. I know that she will never love a man, but she is a wonderful friend.”

The men left after breakfast, and Ellen and Eleanor sat in Ellen’s room, sorting their clothes for laundering. Eleanor brought up the subject of Melissa Martin again.

“I did not want to mention it, Ellen, but when we cuddled, back in my grandmother’s house, do you think we may prefer women, too?”

Instead of an answer, Ellen took Eleanor’s face and kissed her soundly. Then she released the surprised girl.

“Now, would you rather have me or Antonio kiss you?”

“Antonio,” Eleanor said with a relieved smile of understanding.

“See? I love you dearly and I enjoyed those moments of comfort with you. With Richard, it is different and more. He fills me completely.” She giggled. “Of course, he does, but I mean he fills my needs. Yet, I must admit that the good Melissa has charms that cannot be overlooked.”

“You mean her bust?”

“No, not that. She is so wholesome, and she bursts with vitality. I would like to know her better.”

A maid came to pick up the laundry, but that was handled by Millicent, and the two young women explored the vicinity of the hotel. Boston was a bustling city and the shops were stocked almost as well as London's shops. In a bookstore, Ellen found two illustrated books about American plants and herbs which she purchased for Lucy. Whilst they strolled along the streets, they suddenly saw a man they had never met the like of. His skin looked like the skin of a sailor, a deep mahogany brown, but it was his features that made him stand out. High cheekbones and a narrow nose, dark brown eyes and thin lips set him apart from the surrounding people. He noticed the two young women who stared at him, and a look of annoyance crept into his face. Ellen noticed that, and she was embarrassed. She walked up to the man.

“Please excuse my impoliteness, Sir! Are you what they call a Red Indian?”

The man nodded, not sure what to make of that young woman.

“You must think me terribly uncouth. But you see, I just arrived here from England, and I have never seen a person like you.”

“And that is why you and your friend stare at me?”

Ellen felt his reservation.

“Wouldn’t the men and women of your people stare at me if I showed in their midst?” she asked, tilting her head with a smile.

The man could not help but laugh.

“Ma'am, you can show up anywhere, and people will stare at you!”

Now it was Ellen’s time to blush, but she did not let that daunt her.

“Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Sir,” she smiled.

The man lifted his hat, and Ellen could see that his shiny black hair was shoulder length. He turned and left them standing.

“Well, now we can claim to have seen a Red Indian. Do you think he was a warrior?” Ellen asked Eleanor.

“He looked more like a bank clerk to me,” Eleanor remarked, and they started to giggle.

They met with Antonio and Richard for dinner, and then, Ellen went through her luggage to select a dress she would wear for the sitting. She decided on a burgundy-red costume that had been made for her only recently.

She and Eleanor took a rented cab to the consulate where they picked up Colleen MacAllister. They arrived at the painter’s address and were greeted by a Melissa Martin who was wearing a rather disreputable smock. She ushered the young women into her study and asked Ellen what kind of picture she was thinking of.

Ellen had thought about it.

“I’d like a portrait, something my husband can have in his office.”

Melissa looked at Ellen.

“May I suggest something? You have the most wonderful hair. It would be a shame to hide it. If I paint a portrait, however, it would not show. What if we did a sitting pose? With you sitting upright on a high-backed chair? There is a furniture trader who lends me furniture all the time.”

“I’m not sure if I understand this,” Ellen began.

“Let me show you!”

Melissa jumped up and returned with sketch paper and charcoal. With a sure hand and within minutes, she sketched Ellen as she sat on the simple chair in the study.

When she showed the sketch to Ellen, the young woman held her breath. She had never witnessed such a display of artistic talent before. Although the sketch was roughly drawn with a charcoal stick, it seemed almost alive. Certainly, the proportions were perfect, and the viewer had the impression of standing opposite a sitting woman. Ellen decided to give the painter free hand.

Together, the four women went downstairs to the trader and selected an old-fashioned high-backed chair of darkened wood that would contrast nicely with Ellen’s fair complexion and blonde hair. The trader promised to deliver the same afternoon. Next, they discussed the right dress. To Ellen’s surprise, Melissa frowned upon the burgundy dress, arguing that the strong colour would distract from Ellen. When Ellen mentioned the light-blue silk dress she had last worn almost two years ago, the painter nodded excitedly.

“That would be wonderful. We shall have a tall pot plant on the right to contrast the light blue, and the dark chair will stand out nicely. Do you have any jewellery you may want to wear?”

Ellen smiled, pulling back her scarf and showing her necklace. Melissa nodded and promised to select a canvas and start with the background. She asked Ellen to return in two days with her dress and a lot of patience.

Colleen came forward then, handing Melissa a small book, smiling shyly.

“I promised to bring you my writing.”

“A book? You are published already? You must be so proud, Miss MacAllister!”

“Would you call me Colleen, please?”

“Of course, Colleen. I am Melissa. I promise to read it this very evening. Thank you.”

“May I come and watch when you paint Lady Lambert?”

Melissa looked at her patron, but Ellen saw no problems, and the three young women bade the painter farewell. They saw Colleen MacAllister home and returned to their hotel where Richard and Antonio were already waiting. Ellen was enthusiastic about Melissa Martin, so much, that Richard became interested himself and promised to accompany her to one of the sittings.

Richard had news, too. The knowledge of an English Peer in Boston had spread, and they had received an invitation for tea at the Governor’s Mansion the next afternoon. Sir Humbert would accompany them, as well as Mister Edwards, the new Consul General, and his wife.

“I think MacAllister let the information out that I am with the Foreign Office, and now the governor probably wants to find out what I am doing in his state capital. You best put on your most beaming smile, Ellen, to dissuade any suspicions.”

A little later, whilst they were sitting at dinner, a man approached their table and lifted his hat.

“Good evening, ladies, gentlemen. Please excuse the interruption. Am I speaking to the Lord Lambert?”

“Indeed you are, Sir. To what do I owe the pleasure of our encounter?” Richard asked.

“My name is Jonas Templeton, and I am a writer for the Boston Telegraph. Would you care to tell our readers the purpose of your visit, milord? You are the highest-ranking British visitor in a year, and naturally, our readers speculate as to the reasons for your stay.”

Richard thought briefly. Although he was slightly annoyed at the intrusion during dinner, this was a good opportunity to score with the public opinion in Boston, a major partner city for British trade.

“I must disappoint you, Mister Templeton. My visit has entirely private purposes. My future brother in law had the bad luck to be in a ship wreck, and he was rescued by a Nantucket whaler. We came here to afford him the return to England, but since none of us had ever been to the United States of America, we decided to make this a pleasure visit as well.”

“And what, if I may ask, is your impression of Boston?”

“Only the best! This is an impressive city, and we have already met many interesting people.”

“And how long do you plan to stay, milord?”

“Our ship leaves in a little over two weeks, but we shall try to make the most of the limited time!”

“Thank you, milord. May I ask who the ladies and the gentleman in your company are?”

“My wife, Lady Lambert, my sister, Miss Eleanor Carter, and her fiancé, His Excellency Don Antonio Ruiz y Costa, representing Gran Colombia at the Court of St. James.”

Ellen and Eleanor contrived a curtsey whilst remaining seated, a remarkable feat they had learned from Old Lady Lambert, and Antonio stood shortly to bow. Mister Templeton did his best to bow in return, and then continued to scribble in a notebook.

“Thank you, Milord, Your Excellency, Ladies! I shall not fail to make note of the fact that Boston has become a more beautiful city due to your presence, Ladies!”

Bowing again, he left them to continue their dinner. They retired to their rooms and played a game of cards to pass the time. It was ten o’clock when Eleanor announced that she would retire to her room, and Ellen could not help but giggle, earning her another annoyed stare by Eleanor.

In the next morning, Sir Humbert accompanied them on a tour of the city. Ellen found Boston Commons a delightful place to stroll and mingle with all sorts of people. Ellen and Eleanor caused people to stare, though. The colourful dresses they wore were at odds with the plain dresses the local women preferred, or rather, felt compelled to wear. Although Puritanism was not the dominant religious force anymore, the Unitarian and Presbyterian churches also frowned on the public display of female beauty. By contrast, the England of the regency was liberal concerning the arts and fashions, and Ellen’s and Eleanor’s dresses were designed to highlight their assets rather than hide them.

Taking note of the staring they caused, Ellen changed for the tea time at the Governor’s Mansion, wearing the charcoal dress in which she had once graced the tea in the Bavarian embassy. The reception was a nice affair. Mister Templeton’s article had appeared in the morning paper, and the tone had been very friendly. The news that Richard’s visit was for private reasons had already answered the main question the governor might have had. Templeton had also given his quill free rein when he praised Ellen and Eleanor's beauty, inciting the curiosity of Boston’s elite.

They were not disappointed when the British guests arrived. The conservatively cut dress was all the concession to modesty Ellen was willing to make, and her heavy blond tresses cascaded over the dark cloth. Her overall appearance caused temporary speech impediment to the men who were introduced to her. By the end of the reception, Richard and Ellen had collected enough invitations to last them their entire stay. Although most of the Bostonians were fervent defenders of the republican ideals, there was a secret yearning for the glamour of a nobility, and Richard and Ellen embodied what those people were missing.

One of the first invitations came from a jovial gentleman, with red cheeks and a solid paunch. He and his wife, a frail woman with a severe expression, would have a piano concert in their home in a few days. Only when Mister Martin mentioned that he was a brewer by trade did Ellen make the connection.

“Oh, then you are Melissa Martin’s parents? How nice to meet you!”

Missus Martin looked as if Ellen had slapped her in the face, but Mister Martin was only surprised.

“May I ask how you come to know our daughter?”

Of course, Ellen knew already how the Martins felt about their daughter and her art, and she decided to barb them just a little.

“We met through a common friend, Don Antonio Ruiz y Costa. She was painting him, and we recognised her talent immediately. I am having my portrait done by her. You must be so proud of her!”

“I’d rather she found a decent husband, to be honest!” Missus Martin opined primly, her features more severe than ever.

“Do you really think she has a talent?” Mister Martin asked.

“Absolutely!” Ellen answered with more conviction than she really felt. After all, her knowledge of art was limited at best and confined to the contemporary painters of London.

Mister Martin shrugged. “Maybe, it is meant to be,” he sighed, only to receive a vitriolic stare from his wife.

———

When Ellen arrived at Melissa Martin’s studio the day after, at noon, and accompanied by Colleen MacAllister, she was astounded to find that the painter had already started. The background, a non-descript light brown wall, and parts of the high-backed chair had already been painted on a three by two foot canvas, a tall palm in a flower pot standing beside it. Ellen quickly changed into the light-blue silk dress and, with the help of Colleen, she put on her necklace.

From there, Melissa took over. She directed Ellen into the chair and proceeded to arrange her hair, the folds of her dress, the position of her legs underneath, her arms and, lastly, her head. Then she lit a candle on a high holder and placed it to the left of her easel. She told Ellen to look at the flame and moved the holder back and forth a little until she was satisfied with Ellen’s posture. Then she set to work with a look of concentration on her pretty features.

Colleen tried to be as unobtrusive as possible and watched the painter with admiration as she started the outlines of Ellen’s body first. Once that was finished, she did the face and the neck, and Colleen held her breath when Ellen’s face materialised on the canvas, her violet blue eyes alive and alert, the arch of her eyebrows showing amused interest, and her full lips in her usual friendly smile. When the light finally faded, Melissa told Ellen to relax, and Ellen let out a relieved sigh.

“That was the worst, Lady Lambert. I did the face first, the rest will not require you to sit still all the time.”

“May I have a look?” Ellen asked, unable to tame her curiosity.

Melissa nodded, slightly apprehensive, and Ellen walked around the easel.

“You are flattering me!” Ellen accused. “Surely, I cannot be as beautiful as the woman you painted.”

“I assure you that I was merely painting what I saw. I suppose you compare my painting with what you see in the mirror, but that is deceiving. The mirror shows you an inverted image of yourself.”

Ellen laughed self-consciously. “With that picture in his office, my husband will withstand the temptation to work long hours. When should I be back again?”

“How about tomorrow? I look forward to finishing this myself. It is my first commissioned work, you see.”

“I am truly amazed, Miss Martin. By the way, we were invited to your parent’s house for a music session in four days. Will you be there, too?”

“Did you mention that you know me?” Melissa asked surprised.

“Of course, and I congratulated your parents for having such a talented daughter. I’m afraid that did not sit too well with your mother.” Ellen had a wry grin on her face.

“I am sure, it did not,” Melissa answered.

“It seems your father may accept the fact that you are an artist.”

“That will not help. My mother is the one who maintains all the contacts in Boston’s society, and she makes sure that nobody will contract my services.”

“That is terrible! Why would she do that?” Colleen cried, fully indignant.

“To force me back into the fold,” Melissa sighed.

An idea formed in Ellen’s mind, but she needed to talk to Richard first. She tried to ease Melissa mind.

“Don’t worry, you will get my endorsement, and from the looks of it, Boston seems to take serious what Richard and I do or say.” She giggled. “That’s quite a difference from London.”

On the coach ride back to the hotel, Ellen voiced her appreciation of Melissa again and Colleen reiterated her outrage at her mother’s behaviour.

“Perhaps, we should try to get her out of this city. In London, she would be the rage! A female painter, and one looking as good as her, would be a sensation.”

A dreamy look had come over Colleen’s face.

“Do you think that would be possible?”

“Why not? It’s just the passage. After that, she would easily support herself with her work. I shall raise the issue with my husband. Will you accompany me tomorrow?”

“I’d love to, if I may,” Colleen answered truthfully. “It was mesmerising, watching as your face appeared on the canvas!”

“I find this exciting, too,” Ellen admitted. “May I see some of your writing, too?”

“I have only finished a small book of poems. I shall give you a copy; I still have plenty left. I do not think that poetry is my future, though. I much prefer writing prose, short stories and such. My dream is to write a great novel once, but I need to know more of life first. I need to practice, too.”

Ellen laughed. “Antonio’s story deserves to be told. It is rather amazing, like the old books by Defoe.”

Colleen stared at her.

“Do you think, he may tell me his tale? You are right, this is an absolutely stunning tale. He may want to have a real writer attend to it, though,” she closed dejectedly.

“You'll never know unless you ask him,” Ellen encouraged her. She liked the girl and sympathised with her struggle to escape a preordained path for her life. “Shall we meet tomorrow at eleven?”

Colleen agreed, and Ellen alighted from the coach and entered the hotel. Richard was waiting for her in the foyer and he smiled at her excited beam.

“Melissa Martin is fabulous!” Ellen gushed. “You must come tomorrow so see her at work!”

“I shall, don’t worry. Now, my dearest, you should change. We are invited to the Wrainwrights.”

“Oh no, that dull woman with her fat husband?”

“Precisely,” Richard laughed. “But he has several steam-driven cotton mills and he buys those in Birmingham. By going there, we ensure that he will continue to buy British steam engines.”

“So you are sacrificing your wife’s sanity for British manufacturers?” she asked laughingly.

“Think of the poor workers who will keep their employment,” he answered, not entirely in jest.

“I’m only coming if Eleanor and Antonio join us. I need at least one decently dressed woman around me.”

Richard smiled. “Don’t worry. They will accompany us. I shall not risk leaving them alone for an entire evening. God knows what happened yesterday whilst we were at the Governor’s Mansion!”

———

The evening was as dull as Ellen had feared, the men talking commerce, and the women gossiping about people neither Ellen nor Eleanor knew. They milled around, smiling politely and yearning for the evening to end. For a few minutes, Ellen was able to snare Antonio, and she told him about her idea to transplant Melissa Martin into an environment where her abilities would be appreciated. Antonio was all for it, and he offered to contribute to the costs. Ellen talked to Eleanor, too, who was astonished at the enthusiasm Ellen showed.

“Are you sure about this, Ellen? Don’t misunderstand me, but you have never been that interested in paintings. What if your assessment of her talent is wrong? You are not an expert, after all.”

“I am not an astronomer, either, but I can tell whether the night sky looks beautiful,” Ellen retorted. “I’m not saying that she is the best painter in the world, but if you combine her talent with her looks and personality, she will be the rage of London, at least for a few seasons. Then she’ll be established. Do you have reservations about her?”

“I’m afraid you may see more in her, Ellen, and that might hurt my brother.”

Ellen was stunned.

“But I assure you, Eleanor, I feel no untoward attraction to her.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “If I were so inclined, I would prefer slender redheads!”

Eleanor blushed crimson, but she could not hide the satisfaction in her eyes. Ellen used her advantage.

“Why don’t you try her talent yourself? I am sure, Antonio will love to have your portrait, and it would make a wonderful gift for him.”

Ellen had become quite good at manipulating her sister in law. Eleanor was at a disadvantage, being in love heels over head, and the simple mentioning of Antonio was enough to sway her.

“That may be a good idea, Ellen,” she conceded grudgingly. “Antonio befriends her. It will please him even more if he has a portrait of me from her hand.”

Finally, even this evening drew to a merciful end, and the four young people climbed into a rented coach and returned to the hotel. Ellen did not mention anything about her plans to Richard, though. She wanted him to see the painting first. Besides, there was no opportunity to discuss art, for Richard took it upon himself to give his young wife compensation for the evening she had endured, and the day ended for them in mutual satisfaction.

———

“Miss Martin, I am enthralled! You have captured my wife to perfection! I can hardly wait to see this finished.” Richard was awed by the half-finished painting. This was his Ellen, smiling at him from the canvas.

“You will have to wait two more days, milord,” Melissa answered, blushing with pride. She had been apprehensive when Ellen’s husband had accompanied her, even more when Eleanor had shown.

Meanwhile, Eleanor looked at the canvas with open-mouthed wonder.

“Miss Martin, when you are finished, would you care to paint a portrait of me, too? For Antonio.”

“I would love to!” Melissa smiled. “But for you, I would take a light blue background to highlight that wonderful shade of your hair. This is your natural colour, I presume?”

Eleanor nodded and smiled at the compliment.

“Wonderful. It will take me five to six days in total, so it should be finished easily before you will leave. But I need to start now, before the light will fade.”

Resolutely, she blotted out the watchers and continued to detail Ellen’s torso, the low neckline of the dress with the tops of her swelling breasts, and the still narrow waist. When the light finally failed them, there were only some parts of the skirt to be finished, and the left armrest of the chair.

On the way home, a thoughtful Richard cautiously voiced an idea.

“Ellen, darling, I was thinking whether it would be possible to entice Miss Martin to visit London. I think she would be very successful, especially if you were to accept her as your protégé.”

“Richard, who told you?” Ellen laughed.

“Who told me what?”

“About my idea to invite Miss Martin to London!”

“Wait, you were thinking the same?”

“Yes, absolutely! I was contemplating since yesterday how to talk you into it,” Ellen admitted, laughing happily.

“Let us ask her tomorrow!” Richard said, and Ellen hugged him exuberantly.

———

Melissa Martin put down her fine brush and squinted her eyes at the drying canvas. Yes, this went very well. This painting was one of her finest yet. She had captured this wonderful young woman in a lifelike pose. The proportions were perfect as far as she could tell, and the colours complemented each other nicely. She was especially proud of the set up, with the chair and the pot plant; it looked like Lady Lambert was sitting in a living room, perhaps reading a book.

“I am finished now, milady. Perhaps you would care to have a look?”

Ellen smiled and stood. Walking to Melissa’s side she squealed in delight at seeing the finished painting. Her eyes took in the whole picture, she squinted to look at details, and then she turned to Melissa.

“There is something amiss. You did not sign it.”

Smilingly, Melissa took a small brush and painted two intertwined Ms in the bottom right corner of the canvas, together with the year, 1829.

“Here it is. My first commissioned painting. I need to keep it over night for it to dry completely. Would you tell Miss Eleanor that we can start tomorrow? Perhaps, she can pick it up for you?”

“I shall accompany her myself,” Ellen answered. “There is another thing I would like to bring up, Miss Martin. I spoke to my husband about it, and we both find that your extraordinary talent is not appreciated here. We know this would mean a big step for you, but we would offer you to accompany us to England. We both feel that you would meet with considerable appreciation, and you may also profit from the contact with other eminent artists. We would like to have you as our guest.”

Melissa barely trusted her ears. She in London? Meeting eminent artists?

“Lady Lambert, I do not know what to say. Your offer comes unexpected, and I need to think about the implications. I would have to talk to my father, too. But I would like to express my gratitude for the generous and flattering offer.”

“Take your time, Miss Martin. There is no need for you to make a decision in a rush. I shall be back tomorrow with Miss Carter.”

When Ellen was gone, Melissa dressed hurriedly and took a rented cab to her father’s brewery, hoping to find him there. She was lucky, inasmuch as he was in his office, and he greeted her with affection. Unlike his wife, Mister Martin still cared for his wayward daughter.

“What do I hear about you, Melissa? You made quite an impression on Lord and Lady Lambert. They were full of praise for you.”

“Isn’t it wonderful, father? I finished Lady Lambert’s painting today, and her sister in law will come tomorrow for another commissioned work!”

“That is wonderful for you, Melissa, but don’t expect your mother to change her mind. Once your new admirers return to England, things will revert to what they were.”

Melissa looked at her father, and she saw that he sympathised with her. But what he said was true, nonetheless. She knew that after those last exhilarating days, it would be even harder for her to accept that. She suddenly realised that her decision had already been made for her.

“Father, there is something I need to tell you. Lady Lambert has invited me to go to England with her. She and her husband, Lord Lambert, offered to sponsor me, to introduce me to other artists. With such support, I may be able to support myself with my art. I would also cease to be an embarrassment to mother.”

Her father was clearly surprised, even shocked, at this new development. And he seemed saddened. After a while, he spoke, trying to keep his voice even.

“That might be your best chance to find happiness, Melissa. I saddens me that you feel you have to go to such extremes in your pursuit of fulfilment, yet I can see your reasoning. Understand, though, that I cannot allow you to travel as a protégé and dependent on a English nobleman. I flatter myself that I can look after my children with the proceeds from my honest trade. I shall give you the funds for the journey and an allowance. No daughter of mine will live on an alimony! I only ask you to write to me as often as possible.”

Melissa had tears in her eyes. She had never realised just how much her father doted on her. She bent over his desk and buried her face in his chest. Sighing, he contemplated how to tell his wife. She would not take kindly to this new development, of that, he was sure. He knew that his wife disapproved of Lady Lambert, not because of any republican ideals, but because of the openly displayed beauty of the young woman and the sensuality she exuded.

Personally, Mister Martin admitted to himself that it was Lady Lambert’s appearance that had given him quite an urge to visit a house of convenience, an urge to which he had succumbed with more satisfaction than he had felt in a long time.

———

It was in the next afternoon, and Eleanor was reclining in a seemingly relaxed pose on a chaise longue. An open book on her leg, she was supposed to look into the air with a dreamy expression, whilst Melissa Martin was busy sketching her. Finally satisfied with the layout, she laid aside the charcoal stick. Ellen and Colleen MacAllister sat in the background, watching and talking in low voices. The knock on her door surprised Melissa as she did not expect any visitors.

When she opened the door, the furious expression on her mother’s face told her that her father had broken the news with her.

“What do I hear, you ungrateful wench? Going away with your fancy friends? I knew that this loose woman would not be good for you! Lady Lambert! What Lady would dress like her? And now she is corrupting you! But just wait! I'll give her my mind.”

“Why don’t you start right away, Missus Martin?” Ellen spoke up, appearing behind Melissa.

“What are you doing here?” Missus Martin demanded belligerently.

“I hardly think that I am answerable to you, Missus Martin. Now, would you care to elaborate on those comments you made about me?”

“You heard me! No real lady would dress like you, flaunting her bosom, inciting immoral thoughts in the men!”

“Missus Martin, what would you know about real ladies?” Ellen countered. “Your behaviour today bespeaks a deplorable lack of self-restraint and tact, and yet you undertake to judge other women? You also conspire against your own flesh and blood. What mother would do that? Don’t you see that you are driving her away? Your daughter has a God-given talent, and it would be a sin for her talent to be suppressed.”

“She does not need that talent you speak of. She should marry a decent man and have children.”

“That is not what I want from my life, mother,” Melissa stated calmly. “I must ask you to leave now. You have caused enough embarrassment as it is. I cannot be what you want me to. It is better I leave town so you won’t have to be embarrassed over me any more. If you possess an ounce of decency, though, you will apologise to Lady Lambert who has been nothing but helpful to me. As for corrupting me, she is a married woman expecting her first child. Isn’t that exactly what you want me to be? How can she corrupt me when I am the one with unnatural desires? You know about that, mother. If I stay here, it will become known one way or the other.”

Felicity Martin stared at her defiant daughter, turning pale. The thought that Melissa’s proclivities might become common knowledge was nothing short of horrifying. Better to be shot of her entirely!

“Go then, and live out your depravity in the decadence of London. Maybe that pervert, Byron, will include you in his shameless circles. Go, but don’t ever come back!”

"How dare you speak ill of the late Lord Byron!" Colleen was facing down Missus Martin, spoiling for a fight. "He was a giant, a genius. He died a hero, too, for the freedom of Greece. I dare you to besmirch his name again!"

For a moment, Ellen thought Missus Martin would attack Colleen, but she shrank back. Tearing open the door, Missus Martin left the apartment and stomped downstairs. Melissa did not dare to look at the other women, but then she felt Ellen’s hand under her chin, and, to her astonishment, she saw her grin.

“Unnatural desires?” she asked with arched brows.

Melissa was crestfallen.

“You would have found out anyway, I’m sorry. I look at women as a man would. I cannot help it. But please believe me, I would have never dared to insult you!”

Ellen laughed brightly. “But I knew that, right from the first moment. Most women, when they first look at me, are guarded. Men, on the other hand, show desire or embarrassment. You showed desire. Do not fret about that. You cannot change who you are, and it does not change what I think of you.”

“You would still have me as your protégé?”

“But of course! Besides, without an appreciation of the female form, you could have never painted me the way you did.”

Colleen had calmed.

"I'm sorry for making a scene, Miss Martin. I want you to know that nothing of what I heard would make me think ill of you. On the contrary; I admire your art and your courage."

Something important happened in this moment, Ellen realised. Fascinated, she witnessed as Melissa took Colleen's hands in hers and held them for a few seconds. No words were spoken, but Ellen knew that a bond was forming between the shy poet and the lively painter

———

There was still one thing Richard and Ellen had to do in Boston. At the office of a shipping company, they were able to retrieve the temporary address of one Annabelle Fourtnoy, née Charlene Beckham. It was a hotel, and the receptionist was able to tell them that Miss Fourtnoy had taken a position as nanny in the household of Mister James Perceval Andrews, a solicitor. Therefore, on one of their last afternoons in Boston, Lord and Lady Lambert called upon Missus Andrews, introduced themselves and asked whether Miss Fourtnoy was still in her employ.

To say that Missus Andrews was enthusiastic about receiving a visit from a real life Lord and Lady would have been inadequate. She ushered the visitors in, informing them that Miss Fourtnoy was still strolling with the children and would be back in an hour.

"We are so glad to have her!" she enthused. "She has been with us for only half a year, but she has become far more than a hired help to us, well at least to me. You know, at first I was reluctant. She is quite pretty after all, and I suspected my husband had certain motives when hiring her. But I can say nothing but good things about her, and my husband had to realise that she is morally principled."

Ellen and Richard had a hard time to conceal their amusement. The loquacious Missus Andrews obviously has no inhibitions to discuss her husbands philandering with strangers, and to hear her call the former Charlene Beckham 'morally principled' was almost too funny.

"And how, if I may ask, did you get to know Miss Fourtnoy?"

Without blushing, Richard answered. "Miss Fourtnoy has done me and my family great service on more than one occasion."

"But why did she leave her home then? She says she cannot speak about it."

"Madam, I do not feel free to speak about the personal lives of the friends of my family. I am sure you will understand the merits of discretion."

Missus Andrews nodded enthusiastically, and Ellen had to bite into her kerchief to prevent a giggling attack. Luckily, the sound of children's voices announced the return of Miss Fourtnoy and her charges. Missus Andrews rushed into the foyer.

"Annabelle, my dear, you will not guess who is here!" they heard her gush. "Your old friend, Lord Lambert and his wife! You should have told me that you were intimate with nobility. The way you talked, I thought you were a simple girl."

Haltingly, Annabelle Fourtnoy entered the salon. Richard was astonished. The girl had changed. Gone were the gaudy dresses, gone was the colourful makeup. Her curly blond hair was bound in a tasteful bun, and her grey dress was nothing short of elegant. Even her once colourful speech was tamed into something resembling British English.

"Milord! I am astonished to see you here," she spoke up, carefully choosing her words.

"We are visiting Boston on family business, and I could not come here without seeing you and thanking you again for your services. By the way, you have not met my wife yet. Ellen dear, this is the Miss Fourtnoy with whom you had correspondence. Miss Fourtnoy, my wife Ellen."

A truly beaming smile broke out on the young woman's face when she grasped the implications.

"I am very pleased to meet you in person, Lady Lambert," she said nicely.

Instead of answering, Ellen stepped forward and took the other woman in her arms. Releasing her, she looked into her eyes.

"And I want to take this opportunity to express my heartfelt thanks to you. If you ever need a friend or help, let me know."

Annabelle, as we should call her now, was simply speechless. But she also realised why the young Lord Lambert had been so resistant to her own charms. Who needed her services when he was to marry this woman? It was not just the looks, but her inherent friendly nature that impressed Annabelle and she smiled at Ellen shyly.

"Why don't we have some tea?" Missus Andrews asked, eager to prevent her illustrious visitors from leaving. Whilst the mistress of the house left to give instructions, Richard heeded a look by his wife and left the room briefly. Alone with the woman, Ellen took her hands again.

"Charlene," she said in a low voice. "There is no way I can ever repay you. But I want you to have this."

From her purse, Ellen pulled a three-tiered pearl necklace and fastened it around the former tavern wench's neck.

"Three tiers of pearls, Charlene, for the three times you helped us. I meant it: when ever you need my help, call upon me."

Finally, Charlene found her voice back.

"I cannot say how happy I am that you and Lord Lambert are united again. I felt so bad about my part. And yes, there is something you, or rather your husband can do. I have a cousin, you see, and she is still in London, doing what I did. I don't know whether you understand my meaning, milady."

"I can guess as much, my dear."

"Would it be possible to find her? I want her to come here, to be with me, to start a new life. I still have most of your husband's money, and I shall pay for the journey. But somebody needs to find her and tell her where I am."

"What is your cousin's name then?" Ellen asked simply.

"Suzie Potter. She works in the Treasure Trove, off Driver's Alley."

Ellen patted her hand.

"We shall find her and relay your message. We shall also help her so she may join you."

Just then, Missus Andrews came back, and the two young women briefly pressed each other's hand to seal their agreement.

———

Mister Martin kept his word to his daughter and paid the fare for the cabin in the Amelia Anne. He and his wife had another argument about this, but for once, he prevailed. He also arranged for a sufficient allowance to be forwarded to a London bank house.

The MacAllisters, too, prepared to leave, and Colleen was too busy now to visit Melissa and watch the progress of Eleanor’s portrait. Meanwhile, Richard and Ellen visited the various salons and soirees, doing their best to leave good impressions with the important and wealthy people. They gave another interview to a major newspaper, and Richard presented himself as a champion of unrestricted trade, a view that sat well with Boston’s merchants and the politicians who represented them. In his final report, Colonel MacAllister was able to inform his superiors that the visit of young Lord Lambert and his wife had enchanted Boston and created a noticeable improvement of the perception of all things British.

On the eve of their departure, his Excellency the Governor asked Richard and Ellen to another dinner, and Richard, after some coaching by Colonel MacAllister, delivered a well-received toast to the State of Massachussetts, the Governor, the Congress and the President. Ellen looked at her husband with appreciation. He had really grown up, she thought. He moved with confidence, he did not seek approval from everybody anymore, and he was attentive to her without being over-possessive. She began to suspect that their temporary breakup, for all the hurt they had both suffered, had done them much good in the long run. They had both seen the limits of each other and were able to avoid overstepping them. Most of all, Richard’s successful work in the Foreign Office and, even more so, his secret but successful campaign against their common arch enemy, had done wonders for his self-esteem. When he had toasted the health of their host one more time, and was seated again, Ellen bent over and whispered in his ear.

“I love you, and I am very proud of you!”

With great delight she noticed his blush and the beginning of a silly grin on his face, and she was happy that she was the one person who could still see his private side.

Chapter 2 - Home Again

November 1830

When they boarded the Amelia Anne, they found the arrangements more cramped than on the outward journey. As a matter of fact, Richard and Ellen were the only ones with a private cabin, whilst Col. MacAllister shared an accommodation with Antonio. The other three women shared in a larger quarter, a fact that made Melissa Martin self-conscious.

Due to the cold of late November, the passengers were forced to spend most of their time in the main cabin where a coal basin radiated a modicum of warmth. They mostly sat huddled together under blankets, something the two couples did not mind at all. Colleen MacAllister had huddled with her father for the first day, but then she noticed Melissa sitting alone like the proverbial fifth wheel, and she offered Melissa her free side. Melissa’s face competed with the glowing coals in the basin when she sat close to the young woman.

On the second day, Colleen collected her courage and spoke to Antonio.

“Don Antonio, you may have heard that I aspire to being a writer. I find the story of your shipwreck, your rescue and your reunion with Miss Carter a fascinating tale. Would you allow me to write down your adventures? Not so much for publishing, but I would like to hone my skills and see what I can accomplish.”

Antonio considered this. He had never thought his story would be of interest to anybody but his closest friends and family. He saw Colleen’s eagerness, however, and her sincere interest and nodded slowly. For the next two days, he told her his story again whilst she took notes, her pen flying over the leafs of her notebook.

Eleanor listened with amused interest as the would-be writer asked pointed questions, asked him about his feelings, and tried to gather as much information as he could give her from memory. The kindly captain of the Amelia Anne sat with her and Antonio for another day, reconstructing Antonio’s odyssey on his sea charts and helping Colleen understand the issues of seamanship.

Melissa spent most of that time sketching the people in the main cabin. Her fingers were sooty from the charcoal, and sometimes there were smudges on her cheeks where she where her fingers had strayed. Yet, she delighted the other passengers and the captain with the portraits, and she basked in the praise she received.

Ellen, for her part, spent most of her time with Richard, as she had hoped. During those four weeks, they were inseparable. Richard spoke freely about his work, and Ellen developed a good understanding of her husband’s responsibilities. Not for the first time, Richard noticed that his wife was blessed not only with good looks, but also with a sharp mind, a phenomenal memory and social skills. She had lost the naivety that been her hallmark during her first year in London and had replaced it with a quiet watchfulness.

He had noticed that, during their stay in Boston, Ellen had been reserved with the people they met, never revealing too much of herself, only opening up once, around Charlene Beckham. When Richard asked her about this, she considered it for a while, before she answered.

“I suppose, it has to do with the Binnings affair. I had to be guarded all the time, and now it has become a second nature. Is this bad?”

Richard laughed then. “You better be guarded. Can you trust me, at least?”, a question she answered with a kiss.

During the nights, they made love, trying to be as quiet as possible. They did not meet with complete success in this, as Eleanor gave them knowing smiles when they met for breakfast in the main cabin. Neither Ellen nor Richard cared, though. They had waited long enough, and soon, Ellen would proceed in her pregnancy to a point where those activities would have to be curbed. Thus, the somewhat uncomfortable crossing was a blessing in disguise for the young couple as it provided them with ample time to consummate their marriage.

Twenty-three days after leaving Boston, the Amelia Anne sighted Ushant, and four days later, they were able to go ashore in London. The Amelia Anne had been sighted hours before, and the small group was met on the pier by Sir Anthony and Lady Harriet Carter and, of course, Doña Maria. They did not spend much time there, the weather being decidedly unfriendly, and Doña Maria left with her son and his fiancée for their house, whilst Richard and Ellen, with their protégé Melissa, were delivered to their own home. Sir Anthony and Harriet Carter stayed for the afternoon whilst Richard and Ellen told them and Lady Lambert of their experiences and small adventures. Lady Lambert greeted the young American woman guardedly at first, but she soon thawed.

Ellen, of course, could not resist showing her family the painting Melissa had done, and it made a strong impression on everyone. Within minutes, Melissa had her next commissions. Harriet Carter wanted to have a painting of herself with her mother and daughters — there was no in-law in her perception of Ellen — and she wanted a painting of her husband, in full admiral’s uniform. Sir Anthony was reluctant and only relented when he saw that his wife was adamant about it.

Melissa was given a room on the second floor, towards the back and the garden, with tall windows and, accordingly, well lit.

When all was said and done and a supper had been eaten, the travellers sank into their beds to enjoy their first night at home.

Come the next morning, Ellen’s first task was to visit Lucy, and she dragged Melissa along with her whilst Richard wanted to go to his office to get an idea of the work accumulated during his absence. Lucy was clearly overjoyed to have her stepdaughter back, and she questioned her meticulously about her pregnancy. Of course, Ellen had no problems. She still felt healthy and strong and, if anything, the expectation buoyed her spirits. She still had almost five months until her delivery date, but Lucy insisted on her seeing a midwife as soon as possible, a midwife she had handpicked, together with Harriet.

Lucy then turned her attention to Melissa.

“So, you are a painter? That must be exciting. I must bring you in contact with Lady Trimble. She is something of a painter herself, and she also has a salon to which she invites her fellow artists. You will find her a most charming person. Just do not expect too many young men in her salon. She is not disposed towards men, one could say.”

Melissa stared disbelievingly at this woman who coolly discussed a woman “of deviant tastes”.

“That should not bother me, Lady Wilkes,” she said, taking the plunge. “I do not feel disposed towards men, either.”

Lucy laughed. “She will eat you alive, then! She even came after me, and I have been married for over twenty years.”

To say Melissa was astonished about this liberal mindset would be an understatement. She soon found out that bigotry was something completely lacking from Lucy Wilkes’ thinking. When Ellen and Melissa left the Wilkes’ house two hours later, Melissa could not help but think how different her life could have been had her mother been only a little like Lucy.

Back at the Lamberts’ residence, they found old Lady Lambert, Lady Carter and Doña Maria planning another New Year’s Eve reception. Ellen was astonished to see how far they already were; they had obviously started right after the departure of the Amelia Anne. Harriet apologised for infringing on Ellen’s rights to the household, but Ellen merely laughed at that. This was just as much Lady Lambert’s household as hers, and to have Eleanor’s engagement celebrated in her home excited her.

Doña Maria had even succeeded to invite the Spanish Ambassador who was a cousin several times removed, but nonetheless. Doña Maria still thought herself Spanish, and she hoped to reconcile her son with her home country one day.

Ellen realised that the three elder women had left little for her to do, other than playing the hostess, and one of the most urgent tasks for her was to get a dress that accounted for her changing body. She was entering her fifth month, and on her slender frame, it started to show. Therefore she made an appointment with Elisabeth Wilson for the next morning.

She also dragged Melissa Martin along with her again.

“My dear Melissa, we must get you clothes that compliment you. This is London, not Boston, and people expect you to show how pretty you are. You will find that Elisabeth Wilson is the best person to help you with that.”

Melissa, sitting in the fitting room of Wilson's Fashion, felt like a child in the proverbial candy store. Watching Ellen be fitted was a treat in itself. Her noticeable bulge combined with growing breasts and more rounded features into the most endearing image of a mother to be.

When it was Melissa’s turn, Elisabeth Wilson had numerous cloth bales hauled from storage to find colours to complement Melissa’s brown hair and eyes, and it was over two hours later when she and Ellen were satisfied. At this point, Melissa felt dizzy and she had no recollection of just how many dresses had been ordered for her. Ellen, on the other hand, was in her element. She remembered her own first days in London, when Harriet and Lucy had taken charge of her, and she enjoyed being on the giving side for once.

On the way home, they stopped at the hotel where Sir Humbert and his daughter Colleen resided during their stay in London. Ellen had put them on the guest list for the engagement reception, seeing how helpful Sir Humbert had been. Sir Humbert was out, but Colleen received them and the invitation. Ellen invited the girl for tea in the next afternoon, and Colleen accepted with a grateful smile.

After a brief lunch at home, Ellen dragged Melissa along to the Carters’ house for tea. Harriet enjoyed the visit and they had tea in her private study. With a malicious gleam in her eyes, she invited the young artist to browse through the collection of prints and water colours that her first husband had left behind¹.

The Hogarth prints, of course, were something Melissa admired. She was not an engraver herself, but she appreciated the richness of the scenes depicted. When she viewed the contents of the special drawer, however, poor Melissa’s eyes bugged out over the erotic prints and sketches. Never had she even thought about painting a nude person. Ellen had never seen this part of the collection either, and she was moved between excitement and amusement. She decided to ask Richard whether he had ever seen his mother’s treasure trove. Some of those prints even gave her pointers at yet undiscovered ways to find pleasure!

“How did the artist find models for this?” Melissa asked finally.

Harriet shrugged, and Ellen giggled.

“You will have to count me out, I am afraid.”

Melissa blushed. “Please, I did not even think of this, really!” she protested.

Ellen smiled at her. “I know that. I was only jesting.” She looked at a water colour, “The Judgement of Paris”, with a young man who had to chose between the three goddesses, Hera, Artemis and Aphrodite, who were dressed in translucent garments. “Although, for a tasteful painting like that, I would even consider posing. That is, if I owned the picture afterwards.”

Harriet smiled at her daughter in law.

“No doubt, you would pose as Aphrodite!” she said drily, causing Ellen to blush, but she rallied.

"And wouldn't you be the perfect Hera?"

———

One of the most profound discoveries Melissa made in her first week in London was that she could buy ready made painter’s colours in tin tubes. There would be no grinding of colours and mixing with linseed oil. Now she could just squeeze colour on the palette, ready for painting. She immediately saw the advantages of this for painting landscapes and people out of doors, in oil, rather than in water colours.

An annex to the garden salon of the Lambert home, facing south, was cleared and furnished sparsely as Melissa’s impromptu atelier. Melissa’s first victim was Sir Anthony. Melissa had been unsure about the backdrop for the picture, and she asked him if there was an opportunity for her to make sketches on board a ship of war.

“I would really prefer to have an authentic backdrop, rather than having you pose in your uniform in front of a chair.”

Sir Anthony smiled appreciatively. He had sat for a painter before, in his full parade uniform, and it had been a mind-numbing experience. To pose on board a man o’war was something entirely different, though. A thought came to his mind.

“My old ship, the Clyde, was recently moored in the Pool. They talk about breaking her up, but she is still shipping her lower masts and standing rigging. How much time would you need?”

“Two hours of daylight at most,” Melissa answered, excited about this new challenge.

As a matter of fact, the entire family, safe for old Lady Lambert, accompanied them to the Pool and on board the Clyde. Even Doña Maria and her son came along after Maria had talked to Harriet about it.

She was still a magnificent example of a frigate, Sir Anthony decided. He had had some of his greatest moments on these decks. These planks had drunk his blood once, and in the cabin, he had spent that one night with Doña Maria. He could not help thinking about this and he stole guilty glances at his wife, but Harriet understood her husband’s bond with the old ship, having one sailed in her, too, when her husband had been entrusted with a delicate, semi-diplomatic mission².

It was a sunny December afternoon, and Melissa drank in the sights. She sketched the different views and asked Sir Anthony to take up various positions on the quarter deck, and even in the main cabin. She then asked whether he would agree to pose in an everyday uniform. She wanted to paint him at work, and Sir Anthony agreed to search for his outdated captain’s coat.

For the next days, Melissa worked feverishly on the backdrop, the Clyde’s quarter deck with the steering wheel. She even went back to the dock, accompanied by John Little, to get a few angles right. The work was interrupted by the Christmas celebration, but in the days thereafter, Sir Anthony posed as captain, whilst John Little, on Sir Anthony’s insistence, posed as quarter master on the wheel, wearing his old uniform of reefer's jacket and white trousers. The painting was finished shortly before New Year’s Eve, and Melissa felt awed when she saw it mounted on the wall in the dining hall of the Lamberts’ house where all the guests would see it.

December 31 saw the Lambert household in a mad activity. Old Lady Lambert directed the efforts, and the younger women of the family worked the details until, in late afternoon, the arrangements were complete.

The guests started to arrive around seven o’clock, and they were received by Ellen and Richard, with Old Lady Lambert, Harriet and Sir Anthony to their side. Eleanor and Antonio stood to the side, same as Lydia Lambert, who was attending her first social function after Richard’s and Ellen’s wedding. She had finally dispensed with her mourning dresses and was wearing a burgundy dress that complimented her light complexion.

That was a preview of Lady Lambert's Adventures. To read the rest purchase the book.

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