The Countess proved her sturdy constitution quite recently with the marking of a regal crest upon her decolletage.
I was escorted in the royal golden carriage by the Baron, Rupert de la Mare, to a small peninsular called Godsport, a very minor and insignificant hamlet along the south coast towards Southampton. The journey there was most pleasant despite the Baron's late arrival.....alas his time keeping is unimproved since his leaving the Brighton Palace for his a la mode apartments in Kemptown. (I was invited finally to said abode after several persuasions and reasonings.....the apartments have a handsome sea view and are guarded, due of course to the Baron's stashes of wealth and trinkets therein, by a ferocious beast imported from the Americas. I was most pleased by the Baron's success at independance and indeed at his fine taste.)
Now however, I must 'fill you in' readers on a crime that was perpetrated upon the Baron himself. A cousin from the insignificant peninsular I speak of was to attend our good borough for no other purpose we believe than a robbery of the a la mode apartments. The gent, hardly more than a boy, is an unsophisticated brute, badly educated, practically illiterate and with the manners of a baboon. He is a distant enough relative, at least in miles, spawned from an accident of choice that my brother made during a lapse of concentration as he was targeted by a gold digger of the worst caliber.
Sadly for the Baron, his excellent breeding and fine moral fiber has always dictated his honour and commitment to charity and those less fortunate than ourselves, buffered yet more by the honour to blood ties and to kith and kin.
The Brighton staff at my Palace were not made aware of the presence of the brute until a message sent urgently across the borough revealing a theft of moneys from the Baron's private quarters......a thousand guineas no less, removed from the safe. The cousin had pretended for two days to be the Baron's comrade, a consort even in his business, privvy to his affairs of state and to his private banking procedures.
The Baron was bereft at the betrayal, more that than over the moneys that were now lost!
Now quite by coincidence it was that the Lady Helena of the Heaths of Godsport was reserved some months prior to emblem the family crest upon the Countess decolatage in the very same town that this cad had hailed from. So it was that the Baron was quick to attend to my accompaniment there.
This town was quite uncomfortable from the onset for the inhabitants appeared to be entirely related; even the children had cellulite and I feel sure they compass webbed feet or worse still. There was a sense of warped time and Jeremy Kyle about the streets and toothless boys playing banjos on rooves would not have been misplaced.
Alas dear readers worse was to come for as the Countess lay on her back, fortified by nothing more than de la Mare du Valentine stamina (not for the first time of course, remember the C(o)unt) the Baron had been ambushed, due to a prior call, ney a tip off, by the entire Godsport constabulary. It took a further twenty-four hours of influence and status to secure the Baron's release! Rumours were rife amongst the simple people of the town that the Baron had visited prior with the dog from the Americas and some assistant thuggery........and there was silly rumour of a gun!
Thank the Lord then that the jinxed expedition at least resulted in Lady Helena's fine art piece.
God bless you all my children.
I was escorted in the royal golden carriage by the Baron, Rupert de la Mare, to a small peninsular called Godsport, a very minor and insignificant hamlet along the south coast towards Southampton. The journey there was most pleasant despite the Baron's late arrival.....alas his time keeping is unimproved since his leaving the Brighton Palace for his a la mode apartments in Kemptown. (I was invited finally to said abode after several persuasions and reasonings.....the apartments have a handsome sea view and are guarded, due of course to the Baron's stashes of wealth and trinkets therein, by a ferocious beast imported from the Americas. I was most pleased by the Baron's success at independance and indeed at his fine taste.)
Now however, I must 'fill you in' readers on a crime that was perpetrated upon the Baron himself. A cousin from the insignificant peninsular I speak of was to attend our good borough for no other purpose we believe than a robbery of the a la mode apartments. The gent, hardly more than a boy, is an unsophisticated brute, badly educated, practically illiterate and with the manners of a baboon. He is a distant enough relative, at least in miles, spawned from an accident of choice that my brother made during a lapse of concentration as he was targeted by a gold digger of the worst caliber.
Sadly for the Baron, his excellent breeding and fine moral fiber has always dictated his honour and commitment to charity and those less fortunate than ourselves, buffered yet more by the honour to blood ties and to kith and kin.
The Brighton staff at my Palace were not made aware of the presence of the brute until a message sent urgently across the borough revealing a theft of moneys from the Baron's private quarters......a thousand guineas no less, removed from the safe. The cousin had pretended for two days to be the Baron's comrade, a consort even in his business, privvy to his affairs of state and to his private banking procedures.
The Baron was bereft at the betrayal, more that than over the moneys that were now lost!
Now quite by coincidence it was that the Lady Helena of the Heaths of Godsport was reserved some months prior to emblem the family crest upon the Countess decolatage in the very same town that this cad had hailed from. So it was that the Baron was quick to attend to my accompaniment there.
This town was quite uncomfortable from the onset for the inhabitants appeared to be entirely related; even the children had cellulite and I feel sure they compass webbed feet or worse still. There was a sense of warped time and Jeremy Kyle about the streets and toothless boys playing banjos on rooves would not have been misplaced.
Alas dear readers worse was to come for as the Countess lay on her back, fortified by nothing more than de la Mare du Valentine stamina (not for the first time of course, remember the C(o)unt) the Baron had been ambushed, due to a prior call, ney a tip off, by the entire Godsport constabulary. It took a further twenty-four hours of influence and status to secure the Baron's release! Rumours were rife amongst the simple people of the town that the Baron had visited prior with the dog from the Americas and some assistant thuggery........and there was silly rumour of a gun!
Thank the Lord then that the jinxed expedition at least resulted in Lady Helena's fine art piece.
God bless you all my children.
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