| General Fiction posted September 30, 2018 | Chapters: |
...26 27 -28- 29... 
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Chapter in the book
A chapter in the book Briarly Hall
Milan
by zanya
| Background Sir Alfred departs for Milan, hoping to locate his son, Lord Airdale, who may be Giovanni's father. |
"Fredrick." Sir Alfred called urgently to his footman, "See to it that my leather case is stowed carefully beneath the carriage seat. Open the windows a little. Our journey between Rome and Milan will take several hours, across mountainous terrain. We need to breathe some italian mountain air, as March begins."
"At your service Sir," Fredrick replied, making his way up the final step to the train. There was already a hint of Spring in the air. Women had discarded their heavy winter coats in favour of crinoline dresses.
Sir Alfred slowed down as he climbed the steps to the train. A sharp pain shot through his left foot. He flinched. He remembered his father's painful, nightly groans, when gout robbed him of his 'joie de vivre'.
Marquis Leponte's italian hospitality where he had just spent the Christmas season, was indulgent. On brisk, wintry afternoons, hunting parties ensured a supply of wild boar or partridge for the evening banquet.Sweet scented cigars, with a draught of Cognac, was the irresistible finale to the evening.
And so it was. Now, however, the season of revelry was over. He had a serious task to undertake in tracing his son's whereabouts. Stamina would be a prerequisite.
The train chugged out of Rome's station. A puff of greyish, white smoke blotted out the pallid sun.
The prospect of a sojourn in Italy, cheered Alfred's spirits. He was happy to leave behind the damp, english Spring. Someday soon, Giovanni would travel with him. Fear crept in at the edges of his mind. Would Giovanni always be in residence at Briarly Hall ? Would he grow up without a father? Being reunited with Lord Airdale, who perhaps, was still resident under an italian sky, warmed Alfred's paternal heart.
"Fredrick," Sir Alfred called to his footman at the other side of the carriage, "Le Marquis Leponte appears a tad melancholic does he not? A wife deceased, a son sacrificed in the war."
"Yes, Sir Alfred, so it appears for the Marquis," Fredrick responded uncertainly. " My own son, Jacob, lost both his legs in war, in Italy, never the same again, lost his speech. Died within months of his return."
"Why Fredrick, you have not shared this sad news since your arrival at Briarly. Will this journey be difficult for you In Italy?"
"Why no Sir," Fredrick continued, " was before I came to work at Briarly . We had waited long to be parents, my dear wife, Ellen and me. Our son was born after many years of married life. Am happy to accompany you, Sir," Fredrick continued," leastways, will have stories to tell my Ellen on my return. Ellen never got over his loss. Went quiet after that. Still don't say much. Leastways, we manage with my wages at Briarly. Ellen keeps our little cottage tidy. Can't complain. Many folk worse off than we are."
Sir Alfred shifted uncomfortably.
"How long before we reach Milan, Fredrick," Alfred asked.
"Can't say as I know, Sir. Not used to these foreign parts. Train seem to go on forever," Fredrick responded.
"Fredrick," Alfred resumed, in a more serious tone, " While we are resident here, in Milan, I will require your loyal assistance. I have much work to do. I hope to contact my son and heir, Lord Airdale. Giovanni is in need of a father."
"Aye, Sir, t'would be a blessing for the lad to have a father," Fredrick replied.
"At your service, Squire," Fredrick replied. " We was good parents to our son Jacob. Every boy needs a father, a lad needs a father."
As the train wend its way, through the mountainous countryside, Sir Alfred opened his old, brown leather suitcase and took out the letter with the Italian seal. To Lady Betsey's chagrin, she was unable to meet the Dowager, to decipher the letter, before Alfred's departure.
He pondered the possibility of calling on his old friend from London, James Cooke, whom, he believed, still resided in Milan. Though never very fond of Cooke, or his entourage, Alfred felt he needed his assistance. Furthermore, Alfred still harbored a degree of embarrassment about his renegade son, Lord Airdale.
Memories of Giovanni's smiling face spurred Alfred on.
Giovanni was entitled to his birthright.
"At your service Sir," Fredrick replied, making his way up the final step to the train. There was already a hint of Spring in the air. Women had discarded their heavy winter coats in favour of crinoline dresses.
Sir Alfred slowed down as he climbed the steps to the train. A sharp pain shot through his left foot. He flinched. He remembered his father's painful, nightly groans, when gout robbed him of his 'joie de vivre'.
Marquis Leponte's italian hospitality where he had just spent the Christmas season, was indulgent. On brisk, wintry afternoons, hunting parties ensured a supply of wild boar or partridge for the evening banquet.Sweet scented cigars, with a draught of Cognac, was the irresistible finale to the evening.
And so it was. Now, however, the season of revelry was over. He had a serious task to undertake in tracing his son's whereabouts. Stamina would be a prerequisite.
The train chugged out of Rome's station. A puff of greyish, white smoke blotted out the pallid sun.
The prospect of a sojourn in Italy, cheered Alfred's spirits. He was happy to leave behind the damp, english Spring. Someday soon, Giovanni would travel with him. Fear crept in at the edges of his mind. Would Giovanni always be in residence at Briarly Hall ? Would he grow up without a father? Being reunited with Lord Airdale, who perhaps, was still resident under an italian sky, warmed Alfred's paternal heart.
"Fredrick," Sir Alfred called to his footman at the other side of the carriage, "Le Marquis Leponte appears a tad melancholic does he not? A wife deceased, a son sacrificed in the war."
"Yes, Sir Alfred, so it appears for the Marquis," Fredrick responded uncertainly. " My own son, Jacob, lost both his legs in war, in Italy, never the same again, lost his speech. Died within months of his return."
"Why Fredrick, you have not shared this sad news since your arrival at Briarly. Will this journey be difficult for you In Italy?"
"Why no Sir," Fredrick continued, " was before I came to work at Briarly . We had waited long to be parents, my dear wife, Ellen and me. Our son was born after many years of married life. Am happy to accompany you, Sir," Fredrick continued," leastways, will have stories to tell my Ellen on my return. Ellen never got over his loss. Went quiet after that. Still don't say much. Leastways, we manage with my wages at Briarly. Ellen keeps our little cottage tidy. Can't complain. Many folk worse off than we are."
Sir Alfred shifted uncomfortably.
"How long before we reach Milan, Fredrick," Alfred asked.
"Can't say as I know, Sir. Not used to these foreign parts. Train seem to go on forever," Fredrick responded.
"Fredrick," Alfred resumed, in a more serious tone, " While we are resident here, in Milan, I will require your loyal assistance. I have much work to do. I hope to contact my son and heir, Lord Airdale. Giovanni is in need of a father."
"Aye, Sir, t'would be a blessing for the lad to have a father," Fredrick replied.
"At your service, Squire," Fredrick replied. " We was good parents to our son Jacob. Every boy needs a father, a lad needs a father."
As the train wend its way, through the mountainous countryside, Sir Alfred opened his old, brown leather suitcase and took out the letter with the Italian seal. To Lady Betsey's chagrin, she was unable to meet the Dowager, to decipher the letter, before Alfred's departure.
He pondered the possibility of calling on his old friend from London, James Cooke, whom, he believed, still resided in Milan. Though never very fond of Cooke, or his entourage, Alfred felt he needed his assistance. Furthermore, Alfred still harbored a degree of embarrassment about his renegade son, Lord Airdale.
Memories of Giovanni's smiling face spurred Alfred on.
Giovanni was entitled to his birthright.
Image from Googel Images.
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