Chapter 12 - Flax under Broken Straw

Sorry for the delay, it's Chinese New year tomorrow (the first day – there are 15 days in all) and I've been busy with the preparations and my maths homework was appallingly difficult to do....

Answering readers' queries

Due to the number of emails on the following matter, I have decided to clarify the matter here rather than reply to each and every one of them and their follow-up questions.

Question 1 – What's with the ox-eye's essence wash?

Readers have asked me about the ox-eye's essence wash, and what Albus means by advising patience vis-à-vis the beetle. Cf to the chapter of Minerva's birthday ball at Albus's (ch 7). It was stated in the first line of para 6, "Regardless of the Duke's private doubts on the abilities of ox-eye scented insect repellent incense to perform its duties, he did not neglect his." Now, cf that sentence to Albus's remark and Severus's reaction. Tell me what you see? Don't tell me (as some respondents did) that ox-eye essence wash and ox-eye insect repellent are different. I know they are. But there's nothing stopping my characters from using ox-eye in different brews for the same purpose doesn't it. For more on the beetle and ox-eye, refer to response to question 3, below.

Question 2 – What's with the Luna/Percy/Lord de Quib thinh going on in the last chapter? Is there some transaction between Percy and de Quib that Luna, the ton and we don't know about? Is that why Percy is so sure that he'll marry Liuna?

There is no transaction between Percy, Luna and Lord de Quib (who is Luna's papa).I don't know what gave rise to idea. If you think that way, you have misinterpreted the Luna/Percy's arrogance section in Ch 11. Percy is sure of marrying money, yes. Percy is sure of marrying Luna, yes. Percy is sure of his abilities, yes. Percy is a fop and dandy, yes. But Percy is also oblivious. Percy is NOT in a deal with Luna's father to marry her. Percy wants to marry Luna for 2 reasons (a) Percy is in debt (it is mentioned several times in this story). He needs money fast. What's one way of getting fast money? Marrying money. Luna is an heiress (it was stated in an early chapter, if you can't find the reference go back to the preface and go to the dramatis personae.) It is a well known fact that Luna's family is eccentric (polite society calls Lord de Quib and Luna eccentric, the ruder people call them mad). Because of this, Luna is unlikely to ever make any any kind of match. Percy thinks that Lord de Quib is like an ordinary person wanting to marry his daughter off. But we know that de Quib is nothing like that. Percy thinks like Mr Collins in Jane Austen's P&P that he will be successful in getting Luna's hand in marriage. Notice that he uses the same line, "when sanctioned by your excellent parents..." in P&P, here "when sanctioned by her father....". the irony is that de Quib is exactly like Mr Bennet. (b) he knows that Ron is courting Luna. He thinks he's better than everyone in his family, even his parents. Does he think his brother, the youngest son of an impoverished ducal family with no prospects a fit match for her? He thinks Ron has no style, no wit, no nothing. Percy is full of himself, remember. It is evident in ch 11 that he views himself as a nonpareil. Because Ron's courting Luna, he wants to do one better than Ron. Why just court her when he can marry her and force de Quib to agree to the match, which brings us back to point (a) above. And de Quib's paper does not publish salacious things. It was stated in the footnotes of Ch 4 that in this story, everything that Luna and her father believe in are real. Percy DID NOT win de Quib's favour by plying the quibbler with info

Question 3 – What's with the references to the beetle? You keep saying that there's a link between Percy and the beetle? I don't see it. Is it Percy's pet?

No, Percy does not have a beetle as a pet. You know and I know that beetle=Miss Rita Skeeter. As a beetle she can enter all the gentlemen's clubs, an all male bastion forbidden (to the present day) to all women. She needs to go as a beetle to ton parties because she isn't part of the ton. You don't ask a farmer to a Duchess's tea party, right? Same reason you don't ask Skeeter to your ton parties. Because she is a cit (for defn of cit please refer to footnote elsewhere in one of the chapters of this story). Miss beetle is not allowed into ton events, and given Albus's trendsetting of ox-eye essence insect repellent, she won't get in to the ton parties even if she tried. that leaves Percy. If you read carefully, you will realise that Percy has been miss beetle's insider in the ton and supplying her with info (tinged with his unique worldview of course). As for the beetle/Albus/Severus arc, Albus counsels patience because he (Albus) knows something about the beetle. at this point of the story only Minerva, Albus, the beetle herself and Percy knows who she is. Minerva won't say anything because she's discreet. The beetle and Percy won't reveal it for obvious reasons. Minerva knows because Albus told her. Albus knows but can't be sure. Why? Because he has no real concrete proof. Try going into society with sth sans proof and you're a mad man regardless of your wealth and status etc. now, in this ch, the Albus/Severus beetle exchange is where Albus tells Severus, i think you know sth about this beetle. Severus gets the message, but he's sceptical. a few more well placed hints and Severus gets it. Albus sees it in Severus's actions that he wants to do sth about the beetle. But Albus stops him. The beetle has yet done nothing too egregious. Society columns in those days were worse than hello magazine, so beetle has been very mild. cf to the ch before Severus confronts Hermione about her identity as Hiero (ch8 the 1st few paras of the ch). Severus comments that the news in the society pages has been slow and he's disturbed. Link that statement to Albus's caution here. Beetle has as yet done nothing but her job. Expose her now and society will tell you 'so what? Beetle was only doing her job. Besides she told us sth delicious about the Countess of _____.' that's the way society worked in those days according to my great aunt. So expose beetle too soon is a bad idea. expose beetle too late and hell breaks loose. The timing has to be right, that's why patience (ox eye) is the insect repellent.

If everyone is satisfied that the beetle is indeed Skeeter, on with ch 12.

As this is a Regency story, there is bound to be some AU-ness and OOC-ness. Please bear with me. Emphases are in italics and titles of books &ca are underlined. This story places great stress on the significance and meanings of flowers.

Language of Flowers

Chapter 12 – Flax under Broken Straw

The day had been unusually torrid, in contrast to the previous two days of light rain. Bloomsbury Square was like an oven and the glare of the sunlight upon the dark brickwork of the house across the road was painful to the human eye. It was not difficult to believe that these were the same walls which loomed so gloomily through the fogs of winter. The blinds in Miss Granger's study were half drawn and the lady lay curled upon the sofa surrounded by her books and papers. There, at her perch, she was reading and re-reading parts of her study and preliminary notes on the Wars of the Cousins. Her visitor and abigail sat a little apart from her. The latter was sewing something near the empty grate of the fireplace and the former was engaged in pacing along the walls of books looking past the leather bound volumes and into his min. Mr Longbottom did not appear to mind the extraordinary heat, but could not help being restless. Parliament had risen yet again and almost all the ton was in town. The young man stared past a volume of Laurence Sterne's A Sentimental Journey and yearned secretly for the safety of his parish of the Duchess of Offaly charities where he was supposed to be in another two hours. His work at the community level had caused him to postpone a brief holiday to Bath. The real reason lay in the person of the old Countess of Fluxweed; at her age, neither the country nor the sea presented the slightest attraction, and as she was not inclined to travel to these places, her grandson remained with her.

The Reverend found his hostess too absorbed for conversation and tossed his newspaper aside so as to occupy its former position on an armchair. Suddenly, the firm voice of his hostess broke into his thoughts.

"You are right, Neville," said Miss Granger without looking up from her book. "It was a terrible occurrence."

The clergyman looked to his friend mulling her papers and books and smiled sadly at the sight of her tucking a frizzy stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Preposterous!" Mr Longbottom exclaimed before realising that Miss Granger had echoed the innermost thought of his mind at that moment. After that singular ejaculation, he could only sit upright in his chair and stare at his hostess in amazement. "What is this, Miss Granger?" he cried, unsuccessfully hiding his perturbation at being so transparent. "This is beyond anything which I could have imagined!"

She laughed heartily at his perplexity without lifting her eyes from a paper in her hands. "You are a man of God; I am a woman of Alchemical philosophy."

Still staring at the reclining and scribbling figure in amazement, he ventured to tell her, "You're a tour de force! I said nothing."

"Not with your lips or tongue, Neville, but certainly with your entire countenance. Notice that no one has yet read the newspaper for the day, except Father. Brown brought it up for me. So, when I saw you throw down the paper, it was clear that you were unconcerned with present news. This naturally means you were dwelling on the past or some part of it has your attention. You were pacing in a desultory fashion with unsteady feet, and as I know you do not consume spirits before seven in the evening, I am certain you are sober. The fact that you were staring at the books lining these walls without looking at them informed me that you had entered upon a train of thought. I simply read your expression and voila – it proves that I am indeed a close friend in good rapport with you; otherwise, I would not have discerned your thoughts"

The abigail chuckled as she put aside her sewing and picked up the newspaper for her perusal. The Reverend Mr Longbottom was still far from satisfied. "Do you mean to inform me that you drew your conclusions from the actions of the man whom you've been observing? Tell me, Hermione, I've been seated quietly in this chair, what clues could I have given you?"

"You do yourself an injustice. Your features are very expressive," she explained, shuffling her papers as if looking for another relevant portion.

"Do you mean to say that you read my train of thoughts from my features?" Mr Longbottom quizzed with a mix of surprise and disbelief.

"Yes, especially your eyes. Shall I tell you how your reverie began?"

"Go on, tell me."

Miss Granger smiled and consulted one of her nearby books. "After throwing down The Daily Prophet to the floor, (which was the action which drew my attention to you, by the by) you sat for half a minute with a vacant expression. Then, your eyes alighted on my draft genealogy of the aristocratic families linked by blood to the Dunseof line. When your eyes affixed themselves there, your vacant expression was replaced by a thoughtful spark. Thus, I saw by the alteration in your countenance that a train of thought had commenced. But it did not lead very far. Your eyes flitted over to me while you twisted the ring on the middle finger of your left hand. The ring, as I noticed some time ago, has a lock of hair in it; and I know you are not in the habit of wearing your own hair and that of other members of your family. I know no one in your family with dark hair. Therefore I conclude it must be a tribute from a lady, say Bulstrode. This fact ties very nicely with your reason for visiting me today. You had informed me yesterday you wanted to know Bulstrode's bloodlines. You are aware that I researched for Hiero Gravitas when he wrote The Wars of the Cousins. That was why you glanced at my direction. With that look, you soon turned your attention to the painted miniature brooch she has so willingly loaned me. It became clear to me that you thought she was not who she is at present."

"You follow me wonderfully, Hermione," complimented the clergyman, uncrossing his legs and leaned back in his seat.

"I know," answered Miss Granger with a knowing mile, as she twirled a quill in her hand. "Your mind turned to what I had revealed yesterday – that I believed Bulstrode is Lord Lestrange's natural daughter. You were at the verge of a sigh and I knew you were sympathetic towards her – if only her father had lived, he would have provided for her – or so you thought. After all, he gave the brooch, which was a miniature of his mother, to his mistress. Then your eyes hardened and your thoughts drifted to your parents, whom the Lord and Lady Lestrange deranged in a duel during the wars. But your eyes softened again as your hand stole to your ring and you thought of the goodness in the late Lord Lestrange's daughter. His death undoubtedly depleted the income of the Bulstrode women, and after Marianne Bulstrode's death, the daughter was left to fend for herself as the prima ballerina of the London Opera. However, as you began wringing your hands violently, I surmised that you wondered on Bulstrode' fate had her father lived. If he had been alive, he would have kept his nephew, the former rascal and rake, Lord Villiers, away from his daughter. You were thinking how her fate could have been and how unnecessary were her experiences. I merely agreed with you."

Mr Longbottom smiled sadly at Miss Granger, as she pinched her nose in mild exhaustion. "You are truly the brightest witch of our time, Hermione!"

"Don't flatter me, Neville, or I might be tempted to steal you away from your Bulstrode."

"You're actually assuming that I can be stolen and that I will easily succumb," he laughed, enjoying the joke.

"I'm assuming nothing old friend," she said playfully. "Hence the research." She gestured to the papers and books beleaguering her in a wave of mock defeat. "You really ought to give thanks that I did not throw away all the information drafts that I drew up for Gravitas."

"Yes, I am in your debt," he assented, his eyes full of hope and mirth. "How's the research going?"

"Ah ha!" Miss Granger exclaimed, excitedly jumping onto her feet, startling her companions. "I am right! She is a Lestrange by blood! There is an obscure legal document in which Lestrange added a codicil to his will, which reads, 'The Lestrange line will die with my wife, Bellatrix, and me. But another holds the key to the truth of the bloodline's demise."

"What does it mean?" asked the Vicar, as he looked between a privately simpering Lavender Brown and Miss Granger.

"I have not been able to figure it out, but I have it from Lord William Weasley that the bank vault of Lord Lestrange did credit moderate sums from 1789 to 1812 to Marianne Bulstrode's account. However, it was a pittance for two people. There is a vault belonging to Lord Lestrange, but the key is missing and if I am not mistaken, he's alluding to this key in the codicil."

"Simple," interpolated Brown quietly in a faint blush. "The miniature portrait brooch fits into the lock and should turn the vault's lock."

"You may have it!" agreed Miss Granger, unsurprised at her abigail's ability to perceive the obvious. As Brown coloured deeper, she continued, "We shall send for Bulstrode, Lord Dragonlaire and Lord William Weasley. Neville, you had better go with them and protect Bulstrode's interests."

"What about grandmamma?" he asked, cringing slightly at the thought of the formidable old lady.

"She may have some reservations now on account of Bulstrode's status as an abigail, but since she is moderately successful, that should overcome one part of the old lady's prejudices. The only question is whether she will be opposed to a match between you and Lestrange's natural daughter. If she has money, your grandmother maybe mollified. But if she has nothing, then the opposition might remain."

"She is my intended, not grandmamma's. But I would still prefer her blessing."

"I would think that her objection would be your wedding to a lady whose father produced the unhappy conditions of her son and daughter-in-law."

"That was in the past!" declared Mr Longbottom, as he wore a look of quiet determination.

"Rightly so," Miss Granger murmured, "perhaps the Commons and the Lords could help."

"How?" he enquired with unfeigned interest.

Rubbing her temples with one hand, as she chewed thoughtfully on her quill, she offered, "I will have to see Villiers first, as well as the eldest two Weasley brothers. Dragonlaire has a head for law – he could interpret the will and the legitimacy clauses. Villiers could push for an attainder in the Commons, and he could do the same through his friends in the Lords, to declare Bulstrode the Lestrange heiress. She will still be a Bulstrode, mind. If all goes well, you can tell Lady Fluxweed that you are a man of the cloth and forgiveness is a thing divine, et voila – you marry Bulstrode."

"I wish I shared your optimism," whispered Mr Longbottom, who took to the habit of observing his feet.

"Look at me, Neville! This is not an optimistic face, my friend." Miss Granger proceeded to write something as a slip of parchment before she handed it to the Vicar. "Give this to Lord Dragonlaire and Lord William. They will understand what they must do."

Upon pocketing the note, he thanked his hostess profusely and left. As the clergyman left, Brown gave a cry of dismay and thrust the newspaper into her mistress's hand. Annoyed with her abigail's reaction, Miss Granger glowered at the young lady and absentmindedly cast her eye over the paper's society section and began to read:

This year has been a most remarkable one for the ton. The season is almost at its height and there have been fourteen engagements announced in The Daily Prophet's fair pages. Yet, if the reader reads on, he will discover that the large number of couples approaching matrimony do not outweigh the interesting gossip of the season. This humble writer has it on very good authority that the charms of some of society's most ineligible women, namely, Lady Ginevra Weasley, Miss Lovegood and Miss Granger, are purely illusory. For who would choose to ally themselves with an impecunious ducal family? The unfortunate suitor would not only have to face humiliation of paying for the lady's trousseau, he would also have to supplement the impoverished Duke of Offaly's pockets and pay the debts of the extravagant three youngest sons. Although this humble writer is loath to believe in these rumours, I see it my civic duty to inform the readers that the Duchess of Offaly has been seen making her morning calls in a mere gig and to all appearances, the Offaly carriage appears to have been sold.

At that point, Miss Granger snorted her disgust and rolled her eyes. The article read suspiciously like a Percy Weasley composition, as she was certain that it deviated from Rita Skeeter's (the usual on-dit columnist) style. "Bah! Dragonlaire has repaired the wheel of the Duke's family carriage last week. Utter rubbish!" The composer of the article did not share Miss Granger's view for it continued in this vein:

The humble writer does not comprehend how Miss Lovegood came to be considered one of the successes of the season. That female is unsuited to life as a leader of the fashionable world. She frequently forgets her place as she condescends to assist the rabble of the city in the Duchess of Offaly's many charities. Her behaviour is the least of her failings. It is at least not as great as the failure of her lineage. While Miss Lovegood maybe the heiress of the oldest Barony in the country, no gentleman, regardless how pitiable his financial state, would consider her as a bride. For there is the taint of madness in her blood, as evinced in the Banbury stories Lord de Quib's Quibbler, which as a newspaper, pales in comparison to The Daily Prophet. Her great-grandfather, founder of The Quibbler, frequently published scurrilous material. Her father has continued this shameful tradition by recently publishing so called exposés on the abolition of the slave trade, the preservation of British and international wizarding wildlife. Her close association with Miss Granger, the famous bluestocking, does not enhance her blonde beauty. Miss Granger, it would seem, unites the worst in womankind by being a pedant. Only her money renders her somewhat respectable to society. This humble columnist, with the help of the lovely Miss Skeeter, has uncovered the truth behind Miss Granger's many gentlemen callers. It is extremely likely that they all call on her to see her abigail and Lady Ginevra's abigail. This naturally casts doubt as to Miss Granger's character, for these damnable facts portray her as little more than a noble-born broad. A woman who encourages gentlemen to make love to the abigails of her friends cannot be respectable. However, it is hoped that she is unaware of the social faux pas she has committed. Doubtlessly, she is aware of Sir Harry Potter (the most eligible catch of the Season) has a tendre for her Lavender Brown. She can also not be unaware that the reverend Mr Longbottom is also making a cake of himself over the former opera dancer, Millicent Bulstrode, presently in the service of Lady Ginevra as an abigail. The Daily Prophet shall bring you more stories on these shocking scandals in our next edition. Tomorrow, Miss Skeeter's column shall delve behind the secret romance between the handsome Lord Villiers and the plain Miss Granger. Also look out for the column in three days hence, where Miss Skeeter promises the revelation of the year – Hiero Gravitas exposed.

Remaining as still as a statue, Miss Granger reread the damning column again. "Expose me, will she!" muttered the scholar under her breath, tightly crushing the edges of the newspaper she held and ignoring her abigail's anxious alternation between sewing and glancing in her direction. "I wish to expose her as Plato proposed to expose unwanted infants in the Republic!" She had enough of the slanders written by Rita Skeeter and this new columnist, whom she immediately disliked.

"How dare he expose me to that creature!" she muttered darkly, her eyes glittering dangerously in fury as she violently cast a spell to incinerate the newspaper. "I wonder how much The Daily Prophet gave Lord Sterne for the information! If it reveals that I am Hiero Gravitas..." She leaned forward on her sofa and twisted her sprig muslin gown as she sank deeper into the cushions in the hope that they would suffocate her and end her masquerade and the ordeal. "I will kill him!" she hissed under her breath, masking her temper with a serene countenance. On the sofa, she sat and remained motionless, oblivious to her abigail's nervous wringing hands and looks of concern. While she was engaged in the pleasant occupation of casting aspersions on Lord Sterne's supposed character, Lord Villiers was announced.

A quick smile at Brown and a glance at the clock on her desk enabled her to come to her decision. The time informed her that Lord Sterne would be arriving in half an hour. With the entrance of Lord Villiers into her study, she confirmed her extemporaneous decision. She would leave Sterne seething as he waited and she would spend the afternoon driving around town with Draco and dining at Offaly House. "Ha!" she thought, "it would give him food for thought; it would show him I am not to be trifled with." Although she had already contemplated confronting Sterne, she was too cross to think rationally and decided to give him something to consider.

Thus, she transfigured her sprig muslin day gown into a smart carriage dress with a matching pelisse and bonnet. When Lord Villiers had given his approval as to her taste in gown, both Miss Granger and Brown took the blond Marquess's arms and walked him to his phaeton and climbed in beside him.

"Take us around town, Villiers," she ordered in an intransigent tone.

Despite her tone, Villiers was apprehensive and hesitated at his reins. "Isn't my godfather coming soon?"

"Drive, Villiers! Or I will!" she insisted waspishly.

A nod from Brown urging him to do so disquieted him. "Has he done something he oughtn't?" he asked in what he hoped was a kind manner, as he drove his team at a strict gallop in the direction of Hyde Park.

Opening her parasol smartly, she snapped, "He knows what he has done. Let us not talk about him." Changing her tone to something bordering on civility, she continued, "Tell me, did the Duchess of Offaly take kindly to the news of your intention towards Ginny?"

"She took it very well; she has been very discreet."

"Naturally, she is protective of her daughter's interests. Tell me all, Villiers, we have all afternoon."

Lord Sterne who arrived in time to see the phaeton driving off thought very little of the matter until Finnigan, the butler, found him pacing in Miss Granger's study. When he was told that she had gone out and would not return till late evening, he kicked the charred remains of the newspaper and picked up the remnants of a small paper fragment fro, among its charred larger body. It read "...ero Gravitas exposed". Crushing that piece of paper in his hand, he stormed out of the house with dark clouds over his brows, silently cursing himself for not arriving sooner.

Footnotes:

Readers, you will notice that the title of the chapter contains the name of flowers/plants. This is significant to understanding the plot. While some of you may be familiar with the language of flowers, I beg you to allow for differences in interpretation. Some flowers/plants have one meaning during the time of the Regency and another during the Victorian era. My guess is that those of you familiar with this language are acquainted with the Victorian interpretation rather than the Regency one.

Naturally, there is also a deeper meaning beyond that of the flowers. What it is – I leave it to you to uncover.

(1) Flax means "I feel your kindness".

It was first cultivated in Babylon around 3000 BC as burial chambers depicted flax cultivation and contained clothing made from flax fibres. At about 650 BC or so, Hippocrates wrote about using flax for relieving abdominal pains. In the same period, Theophrastus recommends the use of flax mucilage as a cough remedy. In the 1st century AD, Tacitus praises the virtues of flax. By the 8th century AD, Charlemagne considered flax so important for the health of his subjects that he passed laws and regulations requiring its consumption. This continued to the 15th century where Hildegard von Bingen used flax meal in hot compresses for the treatment of both external and internal ailments. View it here http://www.lewisgardens.com/flax.jpg.

(2) Broken straw represents "a rupture of a contract".

(3) "Banbury stories" is Regency cant for "a lot of nonsense" or "falsehoods".

(4) "Making a cake of oneself" is Regency cant for "making a fool of oneself".

(5) It was explicitly stated in Ch 1 that Hermione as Hiero Gravitas wrote a book on the wizarding civil wars entitled, Wars of the Cousins.

(6) Hermione mutters, "I wish to expose her as Plato proposed in the Republic!" In the Republic, where Plato outlined the ideal city, the myth of metals and the duties of the Guardians, he says that children born to unsanctioned marriages in the Guardian and Auxiliary classes will be exposed. By that, he means taken away from the city, dumped in the middle of nowhere (usually a desert wasteland) and exposed to the elements and left to die. This is what Hermione means – she wants Rita Skeeter to be exposed to the elements and left to die.

(7) The Grangers live at Bloomsbury Square, an ideal address for them. Before its construction this square was called Southampton Square, after the Earl who built it in 1665. In 1700 the Duke of Bedford took Southampton house on the North side of the Square. Bedford developed the grounds in 1800. Repton laid out the gardens and James Burton built homes there, No. 18-27. There were many book sellers and cabinet makers to the Southeast of the square. No. 45 was the family home to the Earl's of Chesterfield. Issac D'Israeli lived at No. 6 from 1817-1829.

(8) When I say "abigail" here, I mean lady's maid. In this case, the term is always spelt with a lower case 'a'. The task of such a person was to dress her mistress, style her hair and chaperone her mistress around town or in company. A lady would always call her abigail by her last name/surname only. This is the etiquette and I have kept to it. Ironically, the title and the name "Abigail" is Hebrew for "father rejoiced" – why is this ironic? Think on Lavender, Millicent, Hermione and Ginny.

(9) Bluestocking refers to a woman with unfashionably intellectual and literary interests. The term is explained in Boswell's "Life of Dr Johnson", as deriving from the name given to meetings held by certain ladies in the 18th century, for conversation with distinguished literary men. A frequent attendee was a Mr Stillingfleet, who always wore his everyday blue worsted stockings because he could not afford silk stockings. He was so much distinguished for his conversational powers that his absence at any time was felt to be a great loss, and so it was often remarked, "We can do nothing without the blue stockings." Admiral Boscawan, husband of one of the most successful hostesses of such gatherings, derisively dubbed them 'The Blue Stocking Society'. Although both men and women, some of them eminent literary and learned figures of the day, attended these meetings, the term 'bluestocking' became attached exclusively, and often contemptuously, to women. This was partly because women were instrumental in organising the evenings, but also because they were seen as encroaching on matters thought not to be their concern.

(10) A phaeton is a fashionable open-air four-wheeled sporting vehicle with seating for two; if the drivers are slim, three can be seated very comfortably. A popular version was the high-perch phaeton (see example at right) with its exaggerated elevation. Phaetons could accommodate two or four horses.

(11) Hyde Park Hyde Park is one of London's finest landscapes and covers over 350 acres.

Henry VIII acquired Hyde Park from the monks of Westminster Abbey in 1536; he and his court were often to be seen on thundering steeds in the hunt for deer. It remained a private hunting ground until James I came to the throne and permitted limited access. The King appointed a ranger, or keeper, to take charge of the park. It was Charles I who changed the nature of the park completely. He had the Ring (north of the present Serpentine boathouses) created and in 1637 opened the park to the general public.

In 1665, the year of the Great Plague, many citizens of London fled the City to camp on Hyde Park, in the hope of escaping the disease. Towards the end of the 17th century William III moved his court to Kensington Palace. He found that his walk to St James's was very dangerous, so he had 300 oil lamps installed, creating the first artificially lit highway in the country. This route later became known as Rotten Row, which is a corruption of the French 'Route de Roi' or King's Road.

Queen Caroline, wife of George II, had extensive renovations carried out and in the 1730s had The Serpentine, a lake of some 11.34 hectares, created. Hyde Park became a venue for national celebrations. In 1814 the Prince Regent organised fireworks to mark the end of the Napoleonic Wars, in 1851 (during Queen Victoria's reign) the Great Exhibition was held and in 1977 a Silver Jubilee Exhibition was held in honour of Queen Elizabeth II's 25 years on the throne. In 1866 Edmund Beales' Reform League marched on Hyde Park where great scuffles broke out between the League and the police. Eventually the Prime Minister allowed the meetings to continue unchallenged and since 1872, people have been allowed to speak at Speaker's Corner on any subject they want to.

The Lido was set up by George Lansbury, the first Commissioner of Works, in 1930 and in warm weather is used for sunbathing and swimming.

In the days of the Regency, there was what was known as the "fashionable hour at Hyde Park". The fashionable hour was really three hours from half past four to seven thirty though there aren't many ladies in evidence until about half past five. By seven thirty it was time to return to one's townhouse or lodgings and change into evening dress for dinner. The Ton promenaded up and down with all the same fervour of any teenager today on what so ever street it is the thing to ride up and down peacocking and flirting with the others drawn to the place to take part in the social rituals.

A brick wall was built to enclose the Park in 1660 at the order of James Hamilton the Keeper of the Park under Charles II. The avenue fashionable for disporting oneself in Georgian Times was Rotten Row, a corruption of La Route du Roi. William III had the road improved and made wide enough to easily drive three carriages abreast in 1690. The road was well sanded with coarse Thames sand. Hyde Park was purely the venue of the wealthy, no hack being allowed into the Park since 1695. The old wall was replaced with a new railing as part of the Coronation festivities of George IV.

On Rotten Row one could be seen, flirt, greet friends, and make others pea green with envy for your beautiful driving clothes and equipage or mount. There you might see that aging playboy the Duke of Queensbury ogling women from his carriage with his bold letter 'Q' on it rather than a crest. Viscount Petersham can be seen driving his famous chocolate coloured coach pulled by brown horses. Mr Annesley might drive by with his roan horses standing out among all the bays and black horses. Sir Henry Peyton drives his famous Greys with their manes and tails flying like clouds in the wind. Gentlemen wearing the ankle length drab coat and yellow striped blue waistcoat of the Four-in-Hand club are sprinkled in the passing cavalcade. The Hon. Frederick Gerald Byng glides by with his carefully clipped poodle on the seat beside him. Beau Brummell always ready with a quip notes the hair curling round Byng's forehead and pauses to speak in passing. Uttering the sobriquet with the assurance it will be the on-dit of the day. "Ah, Byng, how do you do? A family vehicle, I see." It's "Poodle" Byng from now on. The Prince Regent is surely out in the equipage he proudly commissioned Stubbs to paint. Gaze upon Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire and the other great beauties of the day taking their airing. Is it just a fancy or do the Prince's eyes follow Georgiana wistfully as they pass one another? Watch the looks of awe and snubs as the notorious Letty Lade drives by in her high-perch phaeton. Carriages bearing the family crests of the Ton and the living ornament of the Dalmatian coach dog, and liveried servants glide by in gilded splendour. Among the carriages are those bearing faux crests meant to remind one of the crests of titled lovers whose Lady these courtesans will never be.

C. J. Apperley writes of the fashionable hour in Hyde Park, "on any fine afternoon in the height of the London season ...he will see a thousand well appointed equipages pass before him... Everything he sees is peculiar, the silent roll and easy motion of the London-built carriage, the style of the coachmen - it is hard to determine which shine brightest, the lace on their clothes, their own round faces, or flaxen wigs - the pipe-clayed reins - pipe-clayed lest they should spoil the clean white gloves... not forgetting the spotted coach-dog, which has been washed for the occasion... such a blaze of splendour... is now to be seen nowhere but in London."

(12) Ton, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the Regency/Empire period means fashionable Society, or the fashion. It originates from the French bon ton, meaning good form, i.e. good manners, good breeding, etc. A person could be a member of the ton, attend ton events, or be said to have good ton (or bad ton). Ton can be interchangeably used with beau monde. In this story, when I spell society with a capital S (i.e. Society), I am referring to the ton.

(13) On-dit is French for "we tell". In the context of Regency speech, it meant gossip about the town that is usually published in the newspapers.

(14) Some readers might take offence at the phrase "tendre" used here. I understand that some might look on it as a bastardisation of the French. I know the original phrase is "tendre penchant". In Regency English, the term "tendre" is usually understood to mean a strong liking for. The term "tendre" was used by W. M. Thackery, who wrote, "You poor friendless creatures are always having some foolish tendre" in Vanity Fair. So you see, in English, it is perfectly acceptable.

(15) Natural daughter/son refers to an illegitimate son or daughter of someone important and often wealthy.