The Girl Underground

Chapter 1: An Invitation for the Magistrate

Chapter One: An Invitation for the Magistrate

Lanfore, Hertfordshire, England, 1823

Summertime in Hertfordshire brought peace to the minds of many men of strenuous trade. From conversations about politics over a smoke and a brandy, to a hearty discussion of the change in the seasons over fishing, there was a shift in the aura that assured any and all of every walk of life that amity had moved from being a luxury to a right. Most folk in the town of Lanfore found that the weathering the stresses of winter was worth it for such a peaceful spring and summer. Flowers bloomed, children played, women gossiped, and all was well.

But, of course, behind the doors of the massive home of Dawn-Bridge, the family house of the Boatwrights, such a blissful peace was soon to find itself interrupted.

George Boatwright, master of the house, felt this delay in his pacific proceedings first hand and almost too swiftly. He had not stepped two feet out of his study before his wife, Mary, cornered him. There was to be a ball come midweek, to celebrate the birthday of their son, James, and the coming of summer season. All of the preparations had been made and no one who had been worthy of an invite had been overlooked... Except one...

"The Magistrate has just returned from Scotland, George, we cannot refuse him an invite," Mary fanned herself, as though the very idea of such a thing was making her feel faint. "We already invited his brothers, we must invite him too!"

George started his journey down the hall, with his wife close at heel, trying his best to keep a calm tone to mask his irritation. "He will be very tired from his journey, Mary. Likely he will refuse."

"At least, then, should he do so, it cannot be said by anyone that we weren't ill mannered so as to not invite him in the first place!"

"Men such as John Quincy do not take to balls as well as our more... Otherwise unoccupied acquaintances."

"Tosh!" Mary scoffed, throwing an apprehensive look at her husband, flushed under her light dusting of freckles. "To have a man such as John Quincy merely entertain our invitation is enough for me. And he is the Magistrate, George. He does enough for Lanfore, he has earned an invite. "

"By all means, if it soothes your nerves to invite him, do so!" George sighed dramatically. "My dear, I cannot stop you from doing such a thing even if I wanted to. Send him an invitation. In fact, send all of Lanfore an invitation! From the baker to the farmer."

"Do you jest with me, George Boatwright?" Mary glared at him.

"Never," George assured her. "If it were in your entire power, I know that you would invite all of England. Make no mistake, my dear, the idea of Quincy coming to our home without any reason regarding a possible morning hanging thrills me a great deal."

Mary turned up her nose. "I am glad you feel such a way, husband, for I have already sent an invitation to the Quincy home."

"You have?"

"Of course!" Mary sniffed. "Do you honestly think that I would hesitate when it comes to the Magistrate? No, I sent Malia this morning to his home to deliver it, she should be home soon."

"Then why in the name of all Gods near and dear to our hearts would you bother asking my permission?"

"I am merely performing my wifely duties, such as they are," Mary smiled coyly before picking up her skirts. "If that is all, I should return to preparations. James is with is governess is the foyer; he wishes to go for a ride with you. Hurry your step and join him!"

With that, she strutted down the hall, head held high and back straight, as if she herself stood the Queen of England.

Jaw agape; George watched her go before snapping to his senses and shaking his head. He should have assumed his sly wife would pull such a stunt, such was her disposition. Fifteen years of marriage changed nothing about her, and for many reasons, that was why George found himself capable of remaining faithfully by her side all this time.