The Scandal at Briarwood

Darling Flossie,

How I yearn to see you again! These long weeks apart leave me wild to be once more beside the river Avon, where first we kissed. The memory of your bright eyes, golden curls bouncing like a halo, cheeks blushing as I moved closer… How can I sleep in this narrow bed alone? Feather pillows are nothing compared with your soft thighs. Cambridge is beautiful and the fellows decent enough, but how can I turn my mind to Latin and Liturgy when the swell of your breast fills my head with fancies?

You have my heart entire,

Julian

Oh Julian,

Your sweet words fair brightened my day! Tis lonely here at Briarwood without you. Your mother keeps me busy with sewing projects, and Alice is teaching me to paint. Easter cannot come soon enough!

Your

Flora

Flossie,

Those stolen moments during my visit warm me to my core. Never did I dream such pleasures could exist on earth! Were I to die entwined in your limbs, it were a happy death. You are my world and all that is good within it. How will I survive these final months apart?

Fondly,

Julian

Dearheart,

Take strength and know your Flossie waits for you. I am taken ill these last weeks, tis a strange and lingering sickness. Your mother bade Cook to make fortifying oxtail soup, but the thought alone makes me shudder. Food is unbearable. I need only your love to sustain me.

I kiss your locket daily when I wake and after my prayers, wishing naught but joy to he who gave it.

Your

Flora

Beloved,

I pray for a swift recovery and wish I was there to kiss away your troubles. I’m studying for my examinations and have little time to write, yet know that your love heartens me and strengthens my spirit. I miss you, dearly, Flossie.

Your

Julian

Oh Julian,

I hardly know how to tell you what ails me… it is too shameful to put down on paper. Twas cook that guessed it, for I had no idea myself. How could I, for aren’t babes born only in marriage beds? Oh foolish child, she did call me, and cradled me to her bosom while I sobbed.

What can we do, Julian? It has been four long months since last I saw you, and now that I need you more than ever you are far, far away.

I urge you come home, my love, for I cannot do this alone, I am so afraid.

Your loving

Flora

Dear Flora,

My hands shake while I write this missive. Am I to believe your words? You are with child? It cannot be. We barely lay together but three times, it is too unkind!

You bid me come home? Are you absent of all senses? I am in the midst of my exams, I scarce have time to sleep and eat. I cannot think of leaving now.

Are you sure it is mine? I have seen the lascivious eyes of the village boys rest upon you in church. Surely tis more likely one of their bastards in your belly, and none of mine.

Sorry if I sound cruel, dear Flossie. I want only what is best for you, of course. But a child out of wedlock will destroy your reputation, you know this. And more, it would destroy poor mother and Alice might be tarnished also. It cannot be tollerated.

I enclose five pounds and entreat you visit London - find some excuse; an elderly relative who has need of your care. I am told if you visit the home of Messers. Proctor and Boyle in Harley Street you can find a way out of your predicament. Speak none of this to anyone.

Julian

Dear Julian,

Your words sting my very soul. How can you speak of such evil? How can you think your Flossie that loves only thee might lay with another? Cruel words, cruel indeed.

Cook says I cannot wait much longer, for my waist thickens daily and grows harder to conceal. She gave me herbs that she hoped might bring on my monthlies, but it just gave me a headache.

I cannot go to Harley Street, my love. How can you ask it of me? You know a babe is gifted by God, how can I risk my very soul as you bid me? I cannot.

Why don’t we away to Scotland? We could return as man and wife. Your family would forgive us, for didn’t they love me and raise me alongside you all? Don’t forsake me, I beg of you.

Your Flossie.

Flora,

I think your condition must have addled your mind. Talk you of marriage, when I am mere weeks away from taking my rightful place in the Holy church? How can you think it befitting a man of God to raise a bastard child by a penniless lowborn such as yourself? How the very walls of Briarwood must quake at the suggestion!

Besides which, you should know I am engaged, and upon taking my living will be married to Miss. Arabella Simpson, a prospect with several thousand a year, befitting of my role in society. I had hoped not to distress you with this news till Christmas, but it cannot be helped since you are delusional right now.

Do what you will. I take no responsibility for this luckless, fatherless child. I write no more, and return your letters. Burn them and forget you ever heard of

Julian Claremont.

Dear Julian,

I thought you should know that we had to send Flora away. The stupid girl got herself in a situation and mother was furious when she found out. I spoke to her sternly, but she refused to give up the wretch’s name that stole her maidenhood. So there was no choice but to turn her away. I tucked ten pounds inside the luncheon cook prepared her, that the poor girl can find lodgings and mayhap some sort of life. It is heartbreaking to hear poor Alice cry, for didn’t we all love her all these years? I know you were especially fond. Do not mention her when you return from Cambridge. It will only upset the womenfolk.

Your brother,

Lord Everett Clairmont, 8th lord of Wiltshire

Dear Julian,

It has been 8 long years since I left, yet the pain and suffering you have brought down upon me lingers as fresh today as back then. I came to Liverpool, passed myself off as a widow of a sailor and there bore our children – Oscar and Violet. Such sweet children and if I do nothing else right, I have raised them well-mannered and kind of heart. Though we have little in this world, we have each other and must take blessing in that.

I write because I thought marriage may have softened your heart, that you should wish to help them find their place in the world. I have not money for education and Oscar is so smart, he just needs guidance and the kindness of a benefactor to raise him up from our poverty. Violet sews the prettiest collars, such dainty fingers she has. She takes after your sister Alice in that.

Let all troubles that have passed between us be forgot, Julian. Come, come meet your children.

Flora Speedwell

Flora,

At first I was angered by your writing, crass as it was. But I thought further on it, and see it is my Christian duty as a Reverend to suffer the little children, as our lord Jesus did himself. The crimes of the mother shall not burden their young shoulders.

My wife Arabella finds herself unable to bear children, and I know has longed for a family to fill her days. I put to her the prospect of adopting some foundlings, and she has generously acquiesced. We will raise your bastards and they shall be free of the shadow of your sins.

Faithfully,

Rev. Julian Clairmont

Dear Julian,

How can you ask this of me? Take my children, my whole world away? Tis too cruel. I never thought this of you. I cannot part with them. T’would kill me. Better to live in poverty with love than in luxury without it.

Flora Speedwell.

***

To Mrs. Flora Speedwell,

We at Messers Foggerty, Merriweather and Smythe have been instructed to inform you that a carriage will be sent this Wednesday afternoon to collect the children known as Oscar and Violet. Their father has requested that they be ready and waiting by 2 of the clock, where upon they will be driven to Briarwood to be raised there. Do not concern yourself, they will be cared for well and raised in status beyond what you might afford them. Mr. Julian Claremont has authorized a one-off payment in the sum of one hundred pounds that you might find yourself a better situation and in gratitude for your care up till this time.

Yours faithfully,

Stephen Smythe.

Dear Oscar and Violet,

My sweet darlings, it has been three weeks since you were taken from me and I cannot live without you. It is too hard, and where there was singing and laughter our little rooms seem now forlorn and dimmed by your absence. I have no more fight in me, my loves, and beg you to forgive your mother for this weakness. When you grow up, read these letters and see how ill I was treated. Pity me, do not blame me.

For all your father’s flaws, he has wealth and mayhap his wife will care for you in time, though not so fondly as I.

Take care of one another and be honorable, as I have raised you to be.

Your doting mother.

Flora.

Newspaper article, the Wiltshire Herald:-

The Reverend Julian Claremont and wife Arabella have both succumbed to Scarlet fever, thought to have spread from Liverpool where an outbreak was reported weeks ago. The well-regarded Reverend had opened his home to a pair of orphans, who came down with symptoms shortly after their arrival in the Parish. Both children are recovering, under the care of Lord Everett Claremont, the Reverend’s brother, at his family estate at Briarwood. It is hoped that the outbreak has been contained at this time, due to the diligence of Doctor Miller and his nurses who were quick to isolate the homes thusly affected.

A funeral will be held this Monday in the Parish church, and a luncheon after at Briarwood for family.

The Wiltshire Herald,

Lady rescued from River Avon

A daring rescue was mounted yesterday, when a woman tumbled from the bridge near Briarwood. Lord Everet Clairmont himself leapt into the water, not heeding its dangers. On pulling the lady out, she was identified as Miss Flora Speedwell, ward of the late Lord Arthur Claremont. She is said to be recovering well.

My dear Flora,

When I carried you from the water a package of letters fell from your pocket, and thinking them important, I read them. How ill you have been used! If we had but known… My brother was never compassionate, but to find him so heartless… he is my brother no more!

Let me tell you, Flora, how ardently I have adored you all these years. Even as children you were the sweetest playmate, and it pained me to turn you out. Forgive me.

Mayhap I can now make amends. Would you do me the honor of becoming my Lady Clairmont? I love Oscar and Violet dearly, and I know we can find happiness together now, despite all that has passed before.

Your loyal and hopeful,

Everett