The Humiliation of Redman Dane – Chapter Nine

The Humiliation of Redman Dane

Chapter Nine

“I want the changes to be made as soon as possible!” Commanded Lady Dane, her naturally assertive vocal tones now at their most imperious “Young Redman, for all his beauty, has been a huge disappointment to me, and I no longer believe he can be trusted with inherited wealth!”

Phineas Bullstrode, sitting opposite to her ladyship in her elegant suite in the first floor of Dane Hall, nodded gravely. He had been Lady Dane’s solicitor long enough to know that when she had set her mind to a matter, there would be no changing course.

“Redman will be perfectly comfortable on an income of fifty pounds a year!” she continued, “He can go into the Church, like most second son’s do, and we will find him a suitable parish in Cumberland, or some such place, where he won’t get up to mischief!”

“Cumberland, seems most suitable your Ladyship” murmured Bullstrode “…lots of lakes in Cumberland”

“I am also anxious that dear Edward, will be able to maintain the standard he’s become accustomed, since he’s been with me” She cast an affectionate glance at the handsome footman, standing a few feet behind her, before turning back to the lawyer “Edward has been a godsend!” she said “He’s so attentive, and he has such beautiful ….. hands!”

“Indeed your Ladyship … I’m sure” Bullstrode lowered his voice “the provision for Mr Goodbody is very generous “ before adding “I will have the revised paperwork ready for your signature by Monday”

“Monday?” cried Lady Dane “Oh no, I want it all completed this week at the latest”

“It’s a very substantial estate Your ladyship!” stuttered the lawyer, the journey from London was arduous enough, without having to make it twice in one week, and he was hoping for a weekend to recover.

“Friday … at the latest!” snapped Lady Dane

“Of course, your ladyship” mumbled the unhappy lawyer “I will return on Friday, with the paperwork!”

“Discretion is vital!” whispered Lady Dane “Redman must not find out before it is done, his pleading and begging would be intolerable!”

Her words were, in fact, moot, as behind the curtain, Redman was seething with fury. From his hiding place, he had heard the whole conversation, and he was horrified to discover what his aunt was planning. He was to be disinherited, expected to become a vicar in some Godforsaken pit town in the frozen north, existing on a measly fifty pounds a year!

Meanwhile, the harridan’s gigolo footman would be living in luxury, on his money. This was intolerable

He had to stop it, and he had less than three days to act.

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It was just over twenty four hours later as Redman moved silently through the house, cautiously ensuring that with each step, his highly polished leather boots made no sound on the equally polished floorboards. It was vital that his target was not alerted to his approach.

It was an Indian summer that year, and the heatwave had carried on well into late September, resulting in beautiful sunsets. Dusk was an enchanting site, and on the days when there were no guests, Amelia Dane had taken to spending the sunset hour on the balcony at the west side of Dane Hall, enjoying the view with a large glass of her favourite syrupy wine, she had shipped in from Madeira.

Lady Dane’s habits were well known, it was also well known that when her shipments of wine arrived, the old lady was prone to over indulge. Balconies were unsafe places for drunken septuagenarians, it would be no great surprise if she slipped and fell to her death. Nobody knew Redman was aware of her plans to change her will, so why would they suspect he had helped her on her way?.

He reached the open French window, and his quarry was in sight, an old lady enjoying the fading rays of the dying sun, unaware that it’s impending demise directly reflected the plans her handsome nephew had for her. Yet he felt no pity over what was about to happen to her, only anger and resentment at her betrayal of him.

He stealthily approached until the back of her head was inches from him, then he tightly clutched the club he had brought with him. The fall was not sufficient to guarantee her death, so her head must be caved in before she went over.

However, being a cold blooded killer takes courage, and courage had never been one of Redman’s virtues. His hands began to shake uncontrollably as he raised the club preparing to strike the fatal blow. It would solve his problems and open the door to great wealth, but could he really do it? Could he carry through? He stood there, a would be assassin, frozen by uncertainty. Should he drop his weapon, throw himself at her feet and promise to be good and beg her to change her mind. Or could he really commit murder?

Without warning, there was a thud, a flash of pain, and then darkness.

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“Oh dear! What was that?” cried a startled Lady Dane “Did something fall?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, your ladyship!” replied Clara Middlemass, stepping forward from within the room, her voice soothing and reassuring. “A picture has fallen off the wall. It’s undamaged, I will get Rufus to re-hang it, and maybe add an extra hook!”

“Thank you Clara, that is a relief, it was such a loud thud, I thought someone had fallen!”

“No just an old painting M’Lady!” replied Clara “It’s getting a bit cold now M’am, you really should come inside.”

“Your’ right my dear” sighed Lady Dane “you are a good girl!” she got up and walked into the room, as Clara quickly moved to one side, hiding Redman’s unconscious body behind her skirts.”

“I will head to bed, please send Mary up, and tell dear Edward I won’t need my …… shoulder rub tonight, I am really quite tired.”

“As you say my lady” said Clara making a small curtsy, “I have a job which Edward can help me with!”

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Half an hour later, and Clara, with the help of the handsome and soon to be wealthy Edward Goodbody had moved Redman to a significantly less salubrious location.

“Oh yes, we will certainly take him!” growled Ben Weaver , as he looked down at the still recumbent Redman, now lying on the damp floor or the Dane Hall cellar “He’s a prize specimen, I’ve had an eye on that young gentleman for a while!” he gave a cruel laugh “Almost took him that night he was in the stocks at Tinkers Bottom. My, but what a sight he was!”

“He’ll be right popular with the crew” chuckled Weaver’s business partner Arthur Rummer “they’ll really mess up that mop of golden hair!”

“How much are you offering for him?” demanded Clara, her sharp voice a world away from the respectful and reassuring tones, with which she had spoken to Lady Dane an hour earlier.

“I’ll give you a pound!” replied Ben

“A pound?!!” shouted Clara “Your are havin’ a laugh! That’s Redman Dane, he’s the prettiest boy in the four counties, he’s worth at least five guineas”

“Two guineas”

“Two for me, and one for Edward here, he needs something to tide him over until he comes into his inheritance !” replied Clara “And we get to keep his clothes, I can get half a guinea for those boots alone!”

“Done!” replied Ben, “He won’t be needing clothes where he’s going, and they ain’t going to fit Arthur!”

Both the men and Edward laughed. Clara didn’t laugh, he just held out her hand for the money.

Ben handed Clara the cash, while Arthur and Edward stripped Redman, before tying him up.

Clara then turned to Edward, “As you have the night off, young man, you can show me why her ladyship is so enamoured with your …. shoulder rubs.”

Edward grinned and shrugged. “I suppose you can afford me ….. for now!” he said, as he obediently followed her up the cellar stairs.

Once the house servants had departed, Arthur clapped his hands admiringly “Great deal Boss!” he laughed “We’ll get fifteen quid for this cargo – easy!“I’m hoping for twenty!” replied Ben looking down at Redman, who was now naked save his socks “Now that’s a pretty sight! My guess is he won’t be wearing clothes again for some time…. if ever!”

“Yes indeed, handsome young Redman is going to be living in interesting times!”

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It was some hours later when Redman finally came round, he was confused, disorientated and his head still hurt from the lump left by the wine bottle with which Clara had knocked him unconscious.

He could not understand where he was, or why he was naked. He tried to move, but found that his wrists were tightly tied to what appeared to be a wooden pillar.

He appeared to be in a small, dark, wooden space, about eight feet long by five foot wide. It had a strange musty smell, not unlike salted fish.

Then suddenly he realised that the space he was in was moving, and rocking from side to side. There were also strange sounds, splashing water, which he realised were waves, and there was also the cry of gulls.

As his mind cleared, he began to understand that he was in a boat, or more likely a ship, and that ship was at sea. He had no idea what had happened, or how he had got there. What he did know, with icy cold certainty, was that this was not good, this was not good at all.

Redman’s concerns might well have been heightened, had he been in a position to see the stern of the vessel he was on, and been able to read its name.

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To be continued