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Delivery to Lady Habersham

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"How dare you come into my home Mister Furbish and speak to me in such a manner," Edith Habersham scolded the man standing in front of her in the entryway of her home.

"My name is Ferbush Madam and I have every right to be here.  I am the owner of this house."  The man wore clothes of the mercantile neuve riche, his hat held nervously in his hand.

"You are no such thing.  If Mister Habersham were alive he would have you thrashed for your impertinence."

"Madam, I mean no disrespect but you signed papers transferring this property to your accountant and he sold this house to me.  I have filed the papers with the magistrate and have spoken with the Sheriff.  Given your elderly condition, I am willing to allow you the month of April to move out.  After that, I shall be forced to have you evicted."

"Sir, and I use that term liberally, you shall see just how elderly I am if you are so unwise as to show your face at my home again.  The man professing to be my accountant had no authority to sell any of my possessions.  If you gave that man money, then your dispute is with him, not myself.  I shall wish you a good day.  Harrison show this gentleman the door."

The elderly servant moved towards the door.  Ferbush paused to hand Harrison a letter.  "This is from my solicitor.  We shall be foreclosing on this property in 30 days.  Please see to it that you and your possessions are removed before then.  Good day Madam."  He placed his hat on his head and allowed himself to be escorted out the front door.

Once the man was gone, Harrison presented the flowers and note that George had sent.  "How lovely," she exclaimed.  "Now there is a gentleman Harrison."  She paused to sniff the blooms deeply.

"Perhaps his lordship might be of assistance in this matter maam?" Harrison offered helpfully.  "No need to bother Harrison.  We have likely seen the last of Mister Furbish."  Her servant was not so easily convinced.

Wandering off, Edith penned a thank you note.  "George, If the other gentlemen at court were so thoughtful, every lady at court would be content.  Thsnk you. Edith"

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George smiled warmly upon receiving her reply.  She was such a charming woman 'and if other ladies at court were like you, I would have no trouble finding a wife.'  It was a foolish impulse he gave into: lifting her note to nose to see if it was scented. Yes it was a most oddly foolish sort of romance he indulged in. 

Had George any idea that his elderly muse was in stricken circumstance, and that he might by necessity need to step in and raise up to her help, he'd have only been delighted in anticipation of display of valiant devotion. But as it was, he knew naught, and so tucking her note into pocket cheerily wandered back up stairs to see if little Whitgrove had achieved anything marvellous today. (Yesterday he'd almost rolled over, and Nanny said he might even achieve it over the next few days.)



OOC: Ooh fun! 

Edited by George Hardwick III
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