slide 2 Introduction
Dear Reader,
In this Prequel, you will be introduced to a series of events that will drag you steadily closer to the truth behind a most
ominous rumor. Rumor has it that in the year of 1800, a ten year old boy, British heir to the Sumner estate disappeared in New York City & was never seen again. Rumor also has it that 30 years later, details pertaining to his disappearance
have resurfaced. What will it lead to?
Only you, the reader, will ever know.
Delilah Marvelle
slide 4 Excerpt
19th of September, 1800
New York City
Lady Augustine Jane Ascott was more than certain that having an unknown man loitering outside her family's rented row house at night, signaling her and her brother to open their bedchamber window, was a serious cause for concern. She simply didn't know how to go about announcing that concern to her parents at the breakfast table without openly confirming all of her ten year old brother's conspiracy theories of aristocratic annihilation.
slide 5 "I despise New York," her brother Nathaniel muttered, stabbing a fork into his biscuit. Black hair cascaded into his eyes. He shoved it away with the back of his hand. "Fortunately, we leave for Liverpool within the week."
He dipped and re-dipped the end of the biscuit into the buttery mint sauce garnishing his porcelain plate and heaved out a breath. "I only hope we survive long enough to touch English soil given the house appears to be under surveillance by American patriots. They may very well burn the house whilst we sleep. Savages is what these people are. Savages. Much like the French." He lifted his small chin up off his knotted cravat and slid a rigid finger across the length of his throat, mimicking the guillotine.
Augustine stuck out a slippered foot and nudged his calf beneath the linen covered table. "Enough. No one is going to burn the house or cut off any
Page 8 heads. This isnt France."
"Not yet it isnt." Nathaniel bit off a piece of his biscuit and wagged his fork at her in between chews. "Give it another year. Or better yet two days. Either way, we aristos are doomed. DOOMED. Cromwell himself will rise from the dead to oversee it."
Their father, the earl of Sumner, glanced toward their mother from over the rim of his porcelain cup. His rugged
features flickered in amusement. "Everyone knows we are here to invest in land, Atwood, not war. One day, you will learn that sadly, patriotism is but an afterthought once money is involved. But do tell. What sort of goblin conspiracy do you speak of this time? Hm?"
"I don't speak of goblins," Nathaniel insisted, his piercingly bright blue eyes darting to each of them. "I speak of real flesh and blood with a top hat and cigar to boot." He leaned toward Augustine,
Page 9 his dark brows coming together and tapped her arm. "Isnt that so, Auggie? Tell him. Tell him what you saw. Tell him what we both saw last night."
The earl and her mother paused.
Augustine fingered her fork, knowing her parents always relied on her to convey the truth her brother never got around to. "Nathaniel informed me this past week that there was a man trying to communicate with him through the window at night. I didnt believe him, given his perpetual need to exaggerate accounts, until he dashed into my room last night and pointed him out through the window. And there he was, leaning against the lamp post smoking a cigar and watching us. He held up his hand in what appeared to be a greeting and signaled for us to open the window. When I refused, he stripped his glove, held up the cigar and dashed it out on the palm of his hand as if he meant to do the same to us. That was when we
Page 10 dove under the covers and didnt emerge until this morning." She winced, knowing how childish that sounded. "I thought you should know."
Her mothers blue eyes widened. "I ask that you cease encouraging your brothers delusions about war and mayhem. Why would a man be signaling children at night and threatening them with a cigar?"
Augustine bit back the need to reprimand her mother for calling her a child. She also bit back pointing out that she had read all about children being snatched and sold to the slavery market. She imagined aristocratic children would fetch a good American dollar, especially if they were sold to France.
Shoving his unfinished plate away, Nathaniel jumped to his booted feet and stumbled against the legs of the oversized upholstered chair. Perhaps when this house is burned to the
Page 16 foundation, or we all DIE, maybe then youll believe me. The French revolution is merely the beginning of mass aristocratic annihilation. Let it be known that I was the first to say it."
Squaring his shoulders, he marched out of the breakfast room with quick, manly strides as if he were a general intent on going to war without the permission of the King.
"That boy is a full forty at heart, I dare say," Lady Sumner chided, shaking her head and causing her blond chignon to sway. "A full forty."
Plopping her silver onto the porcelain plate with a clatter, Augustine glanced toward her parents in complete exasperation. "Setting aside his ridiculous theories of mass aristocratic annihilation, there really was a man. I think a constable ought to be called out. I didnt like him. It was as if he wanted to take the tip of that cigar and burn it into our skin. Not his."
Page 17 Her father's gray eyes snapped toward her. "You said that he dashed out the cigar on the palm of his hand?"
"That he did."
"Was he...tall?"
"Rather. Yes."
"Young?"
"I wouldn't know. It was dark and his hat shadowed his face. He was dressed nicely, though. Not at all like a commoner."
"I see." The earl slowly set his coffee cup back onto the table, fingering the rim and shifted his jaw as if agitated by something.
Augustine leaned toward him. "I suggest we involve the watch, Papa. I didn't like him."
He intently met her gaze. "He is a friend of mine. So you needn't worry. I suggest you eat." The earl nudged his food about the plate with the tip of his knife and shifted in his seat, avoiding her gaze.
Page 18 "A friend of yours?" Augustine squinted at him. "Could you at least tell this friend to desist? He shouldn't be standing outside our window like that. 'Tis nefarious, at best. You do realize Nathaniel has been crawling into my bed almost every night because of it?"
The earl leaned into the linen covered table, swiping his mouth with the tips of his fingers and sighed. "I will ensure he desists. He shouldn't be doing that."
"No. He shouldn't." Augustine lowered her chin. "Might I inquire as to why he doesnt call during the day like the rest of civilized society? Why does he stand there smoking cigars like some heathen in the middle of the night?"
The earl closed his eyes, rubbing his temple. "Augustine. I don't wish to discuss this or him anymore. Do you understand?"
Page 19 "But--"
"I will ensure he desists. That is all you need know."
Augustine leaned toward him. "I am merely trying to better understand your association with him. I find it very odd that any respectable man, whom you consider to be a friend, would linger outside our windows at night and--"
The earl hit a fist against the table, causing the crystal and silver to rattle and glared at her. "You need not lecture me on bloody respectability. I define it. Not you."
Augustine edged back in her chair. It was the first time shed ever had her father stare her down with such contempt. She could feel her skin prickling from that stare.
Her mother's prim features tightened. "Sumner, what is with you this morning?" Her blonde pinned curls quivered as she daintily speared the ham on her plate. "She was merely
Page 20 asking a question."
Augustine held her father's gaze. His grey eyes softened with regret, but he said nothing. Absolutely nothing. He hadn't been himself since they arrived into New York City almost seven months ago. Not that the man she had known back in London was any better in nature. But at least back in London he had never treated her with this...disdain.
Pushing back her chair from the dining table, Augustine rose, feeling too awkward to stay. "I wish to excuse myself. If I may."
The earl blew out a breath. "I didn't mean to reprimand you like that."
Augustine set her chin, trying to remain calm. What was she supposed to say to a man she held no respect for?
Her mother's thin brows came together as she gathered her lace napkin from the lap of her lilac gown
Page 21 and set it onto the table. "Augustine, please. Your father didn't mean it. Now sit." She gestured toward the unfinished plate. "You barely ate anything."
"I am not hungry." She coolly met her fathers gaze. "In truth, I am far more concerned about Nathaniel than my appetite. That boy reads far too many novels about the French Revolution, and the worst part? You encourage it, Papa, thinking it grows his intellect. Only it doesn't. As you can see, it only grows his nerves and makes him think we are next. That said, I am asking that you never slam your fist into the table like that again. I am perfectly capable of understanding your point without being treated like a dog." Glaring at him, she quickly made her way out of the breakfast room, down the corridor and toward the narrow mahogany stairwell that led up to their suites.
Page 23 Lingering before the staircase, she let out a long, shaky breath. A part of her crumbled inside knowing how much she used to revere and adore her father until she had accidentally discovered who he truly was: a man with no integrity or honor.
Sliding her hand upward, along the wood railing of the staircase, her fingers grazed its smooth, hard surface as she made her way up the stairs. She missed home. She missed her books, her horse and her rooms in Surrey. She would be so happy and full of bliss to finally be back home, surrounded by the world she knew and loved.
Halfway up the stairs, her mothers intent voice drifted out toward her. She paused.
"That was uncalled for, Sumner."
"I know. Believe me, I know. I was agitated, is all."
"Agitated. I see. And who is this man they were referring to? What does he
Page 22 want?"
"I suggest you eat."
There was a moment of silence. "Where do you know him from?"
"Anne, I am not in the mood for this."
"And neither am I," her mother bit out. "What aren't you telling me, Sumner? Who is he? I want to know."
He sighed. "He is a friend. Nothing more."
"A friend? A friend whom I know I have never heard of before who frightens our children by extinguishing cigars on his bare hand and lingers beneath their windows at night. Pray tell, what business has he with our children?"
"He has no interest in the children at all."
"His behavior indicates otherwise."
"It isn't that. He has no one in his life. No one he can trust, anyway. Let us leave it at that."
"What does he want? Given that he
Page 25 has no one."
"For God's sake, enough. He has a right to privacy."
"Not if he threatens us, he doesn't."
"Anne--"
"I want his name, Sumner. Before I have the watch investigate this matter whilst having his business printed in every paper in town."
"Leave him be. He is but a boy of seventeen. Hardly a threat to you or anyone else."
A gasp escaped her mother. "And why would a man your age be cavorting with a seventeen year old boy?"
There was a pulsing moment of silence.
"How did you meet him?" her mother insisted.
He hesitated. "Anne, please."
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