Previously in Frankengeld. Damion has made the trip to his ancestral home, Durishaus, to look for secrets in his Father's Red Room. He has witnessed Gerda being trained by his Mother to be the perfect Mistress of the House to the tradespeople and workmen she will meet in future. After meeting a cat, a most unusual cat, he has dared to enter the Red Room and searched. A legend, written in Latin, and a old map, have been the result, and a Ghost has helped him make copies of the documents so that the originals can remain in place. On his return to the Conservatory he has found that Gerda has accepted her place. On the floor under stonemasons, and finally on her knees, with Ulf the gardener 'ploughing' her and planting his seed in her garden-fanny.
Now read on ...
16th June in the year 1784.
In search of a little privacy and some peace and quiet, undisturbed by Gerda's screams, I went to my bedroom.
What was the significance of the ghost? What did she mean by the prophecy? And how had she performed magic? I was a natural scientist, I had rejected superstition as mere foolishness, and nothing I had learned with my tutor, or at Engolstadt, had changed my mind. But now, in the course of a few weeks, I had been made to accept that there were - in the words of the English playwright Shakespeare that I finally remembered - 'more things in heaven and earth that were dreamt of in my philosophy'.
I lay on my bed and turned things over in my mind, but kept coming back, not to the ghost, or the new information I had about my family's wealth, or to Gerda's astonishing display of lust for the lower orders of workmen, but Mother's threat to marry me off to some stranger. A girl selected for her connections rather than any other consideration. The idea disturbed me despite knowing that noble families had managed their marriages this way for centuries. Each pairing designed to enhance the family and strengthen alliances. And part of me was trained to passively accept whatever woman, or possibly girl, my parents suggested.
There was, I had to admit, a simplicity in just relaxing and letting everything be organised for me. No effort required, just smile, nod, agree, and let it happen. I would marry her, consumate the marriage, do my husbandly duties by her until she fell pregnant, whatever her age. I would provide her with the means to wear fine clothes and suitable jewels. It would mean I had happy parents. And, like most nobles, I could have a mistress. But I did not want Mother and Father to choose my wife. It was a threat to my freedom, and the freedom of the poor girl they chose for me. I was going to try to resist that threat, but would I ultimately give in and take the easy route?
The gong went for dinner, its sound resonating throughout the house. Was it my imagination or did the instrument have a mournful tone today? I picked up my bag, for I intended to go straight home from dinner, neatened my clothes, brushed a little dust from my frock coat and set off downstairs.
When I arrived at the dining room I had expected that Father's place would be empty, it usually was, but not that Mother would not be there either. Karl was, for once, sat at the head of the table, as was his right when both Father and Mother were absent. Gerda was on his right hand side and Elodie on his left. But, the table had been laid as if Mother was to be in attendance so there was an empty place set next to Gerda. Either I sat next to her, or I pointedly made the servants move the cutlery to the other side of the table so I could sit next to Elodie. I decided to risk sitting next to my sister-in-law, she must have had her fill of pleasure at this stage.
Karl indicated I should take a seat. "Mother will not be joining us," he snarled at me. "She has a headache."
"Then I should examine her," I offered. "See if I can help."
"You have done enough!" he replied. "It is because of you and my sister ..." here he sneered at Elodie, "... that mother is so upset."
"I sat for hours with her this morning!" Elodie was angry.
"This is not about doing needlepoint with Mother. You play with your suitors!", replied Karl. "You have agreed to marry none of them, merely indulging your carnal passions without any thought of honour! At least that cannot be done with the Duc de Halville."
"That's because he's nearly seventy years old!" Elodie grumbled. "What's the use in taking him to my bed. He'll never get it up!"
"That's not the point and you know it," snarled Karl. "He's noble and wealthy in land and coin. You just have to marry him and help him to push his limp member into you for a few minutes so he consummates the marriage. Even you should be able to achieve that! Then all you have to do is outlive him. When you own his estate you can open your legs to every wandering artist, poet, or even actor if you like. Father and I won't care! We'll have his farms."
Then, having put Elodie in her place, under the wrinkled body of a seventy year old man, he turned back to me.
"And you," he said, pointing with his knife and fork. "Were reluctant today to even approve the idea that Mother and Father should select your bride. Neither of you show proper respect."
"Please Karl," Gerda had her eyes down at the table but her voice was firm. "Let us have the meal in peace. I do not want acrimony here."
'Humph!', snorted Karl, he opened his mouth to say something but at that moment the servants came in with the food. He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. We sat in silence while Bruno and the new maid, Belali, who was as black as Stephan had indicated, served our meals. Then Karl angrily waved them away. Anxious to turn the topic of conversation away from myself and Elodie I decided to praise Gerda's efforts this afternoon. It was perhaps a foolish strategy, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
"Gerda," I said. "You did well in the Conservatory this afternoon."
"Yes Damion," she replied, smiling at me. "Your mother praised my needlework for its neatness."
"It was not your needlework I was thinking of," I answered, wondering how she could have misunderstood what I was referring to. "I was thinking of the ... you know ... the special reward you gave to the stonemasons."
Gerda looked puzzled as Karl continued to eat quickly and efficiently and with no signs that he was even listening to our conversation.
"I'm sorry, Damion," she eventually said. "I don't understand."
I should have taken the hint then and there but I pressed on.
"The coupling," I whispered. She was forcing me to be more explicit than I wanted to be in this setting. "The copulation on the conservatory table and, later, on the floor."
She continued to look at me with a blank expression. "I've no idea what you are talking about," she said.
