A Time for Honour

Chapter 3

Later that same morning, Ellington finally arrived at Highfields the country residence of his cousin, Lord Melrose. Ellington was excited about attending one of Melrose's infamous entertainments as it was an honour to be invited. Melrose was famous for selecting his guests with care, and only ever invited gentlemen of the highest social standing. It was also well known that whatever happened within the estate boundaries of Highfields, would never be disclosed to the world outside. The guests could indulge their every fantasy, however amoral, without censure from their peers or family, or have to face the consequences of their actions.

However, during the short journey to Highfields, his travelling companion, Major Mitford, had been looking at him with disapproval. Since they had arrived back in London, after they had both been injured at Salamanca, Mitford was rarely found in respectable company. He had been living the life of a libertine and had been frequenting every seedy gaming establishment in the capital. He was brilliant at gambling and rarely lost, even though he drank heavily and could rarely be found sober.

Therefore, this sudden change in Mitford's character had puzzled Ellington. He had specifically invited Mitford to Melrose's house party, because of his reputation as a rake-hell and shrewd card player. In his invitation, Melrose had asked him to bring a friend who was a renowned card-player and would be able to entertain his houseguests with his skills. Mitford had been the perfect choice. However, on the journey from London, Mitford had proved to be a very different man from the libertine he had known. Not only had Mitford not drunk a drop of liquor since leaving, but he had also subjected Ellington to several long moralising sermons about the way he treated women. He only hoped that Mitford would soon forget his newly acquired scruples, and provide the houseguests with the entertainment he had promised to deliver.

Melrose had been at the front door, at the impressive entrance to his grand country mansion ready to greet his guests, when their carriage briskly travelled up the driveway. After the warm welcome, both men accompanied Melrose to his study, and drank whisky, while their rooms were being prepared. They were talking about the journey, in particular, last night's accident, when a footman came to the study and announced that both the gentlemen's rooms were ready.

Ellington and Mitford stood up to leave, but Melrose said to his cousin. 'May I speak to you in private, before you go upstairs to your room.'

'Of course,' he said, as Mitford, who was still in a bad mood, left the room, 'I am not in the least bit tired.'

'Good,' Melrose said motioning for his cousin to sit back down, 'I have wanted to talk to you since you arrived back in England.'

Ellington obeyed his cousin and sat back down in one of the leather chairs next to the fireplace, and then said to his cousin, 'may I trouble you for another glass of your excellent whisky?'

Melrose nodded and walked over to the decanter and poured Ellington another large glass of the exquisite amber liquid. He walked back over to him, handed him the glass and sat down in the chair opposite him. 'I would like to discuss with you, the possibility of you becoming a partner with me in my little venture.'

'I hardly call it little. It has, after all, rebuilt this place,' Ellington said with pride in his voice.

'Are you aware of how I make my money?' Melrose asked, leaning forward towards Ellington.

'Only what my family has told me. My mother has said, rather disparagingly, that you are "in trade."'

His cousin and owner of Highfields, Lord Melrose, was an exceptionally wealthy man. When he had inherited the estate from his father, five years ago, it looked very different from what it was like today. After many years of neglect, the buildings were rundown, and the businesses that many of the locals relied on were close to bankruptcy. The former Lord Melrose was a wastrel and had frittered away an extensive fortune by the time he was thirty. And, on his deathbed, some thirty years later, he left his only son nothing but debts.