She appeared to me as if an angel at Mr Marchington's ball at the great hall at Thrimby, I was at once bewitched and dangled helpless in her thrall, as I beheld an angel with ringletted golden hair, with eyes of blue and a merry laugh that lightened even my poor dour soul.
And I was not alone, everyone else that claimed to be male and of the red blood lusted after this angel, the very epitome of beauty and grace, as she glided swiftly across the dance-floor in as swish of flouncing lace, as if held aloft by suspension from the clouds not mere mortal legs, while I possessed of two left feet, metaphorically you understand not physically, thus felt compelled to remain upon the side lines.
"Who is the angel!" I asked Barrington a new friend I had but recently made after our move from Berkshire to our new home at Gatesby Hall at Hibblethwaite near Gatesby.
"Why the honourable Camilla Oakes," quoth he, "Fresh from mourning her poor Mama."
"Fresh?" I asked.
"Oh yes enforcedly so," said he, "Her father has married a widow, precipitately I fear, Mrs Parsonage, though a less Christian soul it is had to envision."
"This Oakes, he was widowed?" I asked.
"Indeed nine months since at the outside," he informed me, "Precipitately do you see?"
I allow I am no great charmer where wenches are concerned, always the compliment falls flat or is misconstrued, and dances had become a purgatory, although when I look in the mirror I see I have but one mouth, a single nose and two each of ears and eyes, and not a hint of horns or forked tail.
She evaded me, this Camilla did, easily, for suitors queued to dance with her to the dismay of those with her I must admit, the dark haired sisters Lilla and Catherine Parsonage with whom I dared to speak briefly, and sadly I asked about Camilla, which enraged the pair immensely.
It remained with me that image of Camilla, and it was entirely ridiculous, she was beautiful, charming, chaste, healthy everything one could wish for in a wife, I believe she was in the top ten of my fathers shortlist of suitable brides for me and yet I could not bring myself to speak to her.
"How went the wenching?" my father asked as I returned that very evening.
"Pleasant enough, Father," I suggested.
"Did ye sample the goods John?" he asked, "Chaste kiss perchance?"
"I spoke to Miss Lilla Parsonage." I explained.
"Talking won't get an heir my boy," he offered, "You have had twenty three summers already, all the good ones will be gone before you et round to bedding them!"
"Yes Father," I agreed.
"Then do something about it my boy!" he insisted.
Now my father unlike myself was regarded as being in the first rank among exponents of wenching, I knew that half the maids and more on our old estate had he sampled, and as a consequence mother now resided with aunt Matilda in Brighton so that she should be spared the humiliation of my father's dalliances, and the pain he inflicted with his constant demands even though I was their own surviving child he never restricted his demands that she should bear "A Spare," or second son, something of which she seemed incapable neither son nor daughter being conceived.
Miss Camilla I rapidly discovered had the eye of Gerald Handley, the protege of our prime minister no less, and thus, for practical purposes she became out of bounds, not through rank but because he was beautiful with beautiful manners and a command of English second to none whereas I it is well said that pedantry is my forte, the law, figures, balance sheets and facts not flowered prose and elegant lies.
It was not to be, a romance between Camilla Oakes and I, and that was an end to it.
The season dragged on, this ball and that until I own I should rather have a tooth pulled than attend another, "Mr Hunstanton," Camilla addressed me on one occasion, "My dear sister Lilla has no partner shall I ask her for you?" she said crushing my spirit like a grape under a cows hoof.
Poor mean dark haired Lilla, all latin promise, dark hair and a faint tan to the skin always, pretty enough but not a candle to Camilla's sun.
"I have an ankle sprain," I lied and thereafter limped.
"Mr Hunstanton," Camilla said again in passing later, "I would ask only that you remember which ankle is sprained that you may limp with the same leg always," and my deception was shown in a trice, though I rejoiced that she had at least noticed me.
I had a fort-night training with the Militia which thankfully meant I missed the next ball. My father had sought the rank of Major for me but I sneaked away and bought a Lieutenancy instead, that way I had but ten to twenty lads to control and could know them as men not numbers and I enjoyed every second with Sergeant Riketts and Corporal Munn who ran my platoon.
Of course that did not suit my father either, "Damned Lieutenenant, taking orders form Batty Boulders and the like, you are a disgrace to my name!" He stormed, though I think he realised that by so doing I learned something from my time, when as Major I should have been in essence messenger boy from Colonel to Captain, and I could always buy a promotion if I so desired..
I came home from our training camp to a terrible situation, there was a court case among the Oakes, Miss Camilla had been found in flagrant undress with a servant, first the servant was to be tried and when afterwards when he insisted it was of Camilla's instigation so Lady Oakes had insisted Camilla be made an example of lest her debauchery corrupt Lady Oakes' own daughters Lilla and Catherine who were of an age with her.
It fell to be heard at the Gatesby assizes, one John Raiment was to be charged with indecency since Camilla was but nineteen years old and not yet of majority, that age of 21 years whereby she may marry without consent.
"The Oakes' girl's a flighty one John," my father told me at breakfast, "Been caught in flagrante with a servant, he shall be up before old Wobbly Wibblethwaite's bench this forenoon shall you come and see the shenanigans?"
"Ah no" I demurred, "But did you say Catherine?" I asked, "Or Lilla?"
"Camilla," he said, I think I jumped, certainly my china tea leapt from my tea-cup and deposited itself upon my shirt and breeches.
"Camilla!" I gasped, "The angel Camilla!" I could not believe it, "No surely not," I spluttered, "What purpose would she have with servants with Mr Gerald Handley on his knees at her beck and call?"
"Ah but it's too dammed late John," my father admitted, "This will ruin her, old Oakes will disinherit her if 'tis true." and he peered at my with a sort of amused smirk as if he was already plotting something.
"Then we must go," I insisted, "And offer what assistance we may."
We took carriage to Gatesby, to the Court house there, It was as father said, the trial started at ten, we were late as always with father, it was ten minutes past the tenth hour when we sneaked in and as we had no seat reserved so we were compelled to sit in the third rank which displeased my father slightly as by this Lords and common fellows had the appearance of precedence.
The Oakes' servant John Raiment was sworn in and ready to answer as we sat.
"Oh the charge of Indecency how do you plead," the court clerk, Adams, a mean fellow of threadbare appearance, threadbare grey coat and hair to match, or so I thought asked him.
There was a pause and then came an astonished gasp as he said "Guilty."
"Oh," Judge Wibblethwaite exclaimed as he woke from an apparent slumber, "Not, Not Guilty, but Guilty?"
"Indeed sir." Raiment averred.
"And have you any mitigation." the Judge asked.
"Merely that I had no choice sir, Miss Camilla is in essence my mistress sir, when she asked that I, ah, pleasure her sir , and thus had I had no option sir." he said but awkwardly as if reading from a Shakespeare play.
"Really, am I expected to believe that?" the Judge asked.
"Ask her yourself," Raiment suggested, and that is what the Judge did.
"Stand down Raiment, call Miss Camilla Oakes." he instructed.
She came down from an ante room like an angel, so gloriously enchanting that no man might resist her and she stood all golden ringlets and red gown as swore on the bible that she would be truthful.
"Tell the court what happened between you and Raiment." the Judge asked.
"Yes my Lord!" she said, "He was in my room when I returned from my walk, and he tried to kiss me, then Step Mama came and she believed I had seduced him."
"Tried to kiss?" the Judge asked, "I have it in writing you were undone, bare indeed and that your pleasured moans attracted the attention of Lady Oaks, do you deny it?"
"Indeed, that was not what transpired at all," Camilla insisted.
"But Lady Oaks, Mr Raiment and your sisters all say by word and in writing that you seduced him." the Judge insisted. It all seemed most irregular but Wibblethwaite had conducted affairs thus for twenty and more years.
"Then they are not truthful." she insisted.
The Judge sighed, "But I say again we have here sworn testimony from Lady Oakes and her daughters and from Raiment both spoken and in writing that that is what occurred."
"Then they lie!" she insisted.
"And your Physician," the Judge enquired, "Why does he aver that you are no longer chaste?"
A gasp hissed around the courtroom.
"No!" she wailed.
"Cannot be disputed," the Judge insisted, "No it is clear you are a wanton strumpet and unfit for decent society, but that aside perjury you have committed even after your lover hath confessed, this may not be left unpunished," he announced with considerable seriousness, "Have you anything to say in your defence?"
"It is lies all lies!" Camilla exclaimed.
"Father," I whispered, "This is most irregular, tis Raiment on Trial not Camilla, and Mr Haynes treatise upon English Law says." I explained.
