Jump to content


Your Stories Await Telling

The Finest Fury is the Most Controlled. | Chatham Residence, Early Evening April 2nd [CD]

Recommended Posts



19 Chatham Residence
A tidy house built of red brick, Number 19 sits some distance back from the street and is approached via a curving drive that bissects a neat, well-manicured lawn.

It is Jacobean in design with contrasting sandstone trim and several heavily paned bow windows overlooking both the front yard and the rustic garden to be found at the house's rear. Informal, this garden has been planted with several bushes of red and pink roses, some beds of spring bulbs, and, surprisingly, perhaps, a very well-kept physic garden close to the house. An ancient, gnarled oak tree boasts pride of place at the very center of the garden and an ornate, circular, ironwork bench has been constructed around the tree's trunk to make use of the copious amounts of shade offered by the canopy of leafy foliage. Surrounded by a brick wall, the garden is partitioned from the small stable and coach house though both can be accessed via a small door hidden behind a curtain of trailing ivy.

To enter the townhome, one must present oneself to the panelled black door and make use of the silver door-knocker in the shape of a shell.



The effects of the opium had passed, but the rage remained, a hard, sharp, frozen thing filling his veins. By now he should really have been getting ready for the gathering at Buckingham's, Charles knew, but instead he sat in the study, chewing mechanically on coca leaves to disperse the last vestiges of the lethargy from his earlier indulgences. And plotting.

He had considered breaking Mary's neck, once they had finished. It would not have been difficult, and he could have claimed that she had fallen badly after imbibing too much opium. He might well have done it, too, had the servants not seen the beginning of what had promised to be a rather intense argument. That had changed the calculus somewhat.

He considered killing Cadogan, too, and had not yet ruled it out. That would not be much more challenging, and would provide immense satisfaction besides. But no, he decided, that was not yet a viable course of action.

But before this is over, he promised himself, I will look into Arthur Cadogan's dead, staring eyes.

Doing nothing, he conceded with no small reluctance, was not necessarily a terrible idea. The longer the current state of affairs could be maintained, the stronger the weight of inertia would make his own position when things inevitably exploded. It would have to be managed carefully though. Too much had happened without his knowledge already. The waters needed muddying a little. His stepmother's indiscretions with his uncle had the possibility of becoming a useful lever, though he could not yet make out the shape of how to fit it into a grander design. 

He left the notion to percolate in the back of his mind and moved on to other considerations. Cadogan had intimated that he had documents. Those would need to be discredited or destroyed. The easiest way, of course, would be to say that they were forgeries, but...


Charles smiled. It was not a pleasant expression.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Hope locked this topic
This topic is now closed to further replies.

  • Create New...