Page 47 of The Colonist’s Petition (Heirs & Heroes #2)

Thirty-Six

P ounding on the door of his flat roused Johnathan from a dream he wished could be reality.

The valet entered his bedroom moments later. “The Earl of Whitstone asked that you meet him at the club in one hour. He also sends his condolences for the news in the morning paper.

“Condolences?”

The valet pointed at the newspaper in his hands and a particular article on the lower part of a page.

Incident at Dartmoor.

Johnathan read in disbelief. Seven of his fellow countrymen killed, another sixty injured.

The war was over. Why were they still incarcerated as prisoners of war?

Were they not supposed to go home? Details were vague, blaming the unarmed detainees for the guards firing into the crowded prison grounds.

If his countrymen were escaping, why would they have been loitering about the walls?

Gambling? No sane man would have stayed, even in this island country.

The statements of Captain Thomas Shortland seemed incomplete at best.

Johnathan slumped into the chair nearest the window.

There were no names. Did he know any of them?

He had not even realized there were prisoners from the war there.

Had anyone spoken of it on the voyage over?

He searched his memory. Yes, there was a discussion of prisoners of war, but not specific locations.

Not that he paid much attention to the preparations the men on his ship were making for the talks in Ghent.

The treaty was signed four months ago.

How?

Why?

A church bell rang. He needed to get up.

His valet entered. “My apologies. I have waited as long as I dare. But I cannot delay any further as you have an appointment with the Earl.”

More flowers than George imagined filled the parlor. Jane received two bouquets. George a surprising four. Johnathan sent flowers to both of them. Simple ones that meant no more than friendship.

George searched for cards in the other three bouquets. The man who stepped on her toes, had the decency to apologize. His note being short and to the point.

Aunt Healand took the card when George passed it on. “Interesting. I wonder how many ladies of the ton have received the self-same bouquet and card.”

“I shall count myself fortunate I did not dance with him.” Jane smelled her flowers. “I do not understand why Mr. Dalrymple would send me flowers. We hardly spoke during the dance other than the mention of the differences between home and Town. Do men send flowers out of pity?”

Aunt Healand took the card from Jane. It only identified the sender, no other sentiment was added. “Not unusual for flowers to only come with a calling card. We shall see if he comes calling. Georgiana, who sent your other flowers?”

“I am at a loss. Neither of them has a card. I’ve searched every bud.”

Aunt rang the bell, and a footman answered. He was tasked with searching for lost cards.

Aunt sat in the most comfortable seat and picked up her needlework. “Now girls, we wait.”

The earl's carriage stopped in front of the solicitor’s door. Hardly what Johnathan expected for the morning meeting.

“Shall we see what was so pressing he could not put the news in a letter?” The earl exited first.

As before they were shown into a not overly tidy office and were offered a seat and refreshment.

The solicitor sat behind a desk and opened a folder. “Yesterday a ship arrived from Boston. I must commend you on having me send two men. As only one returned.”

“And the other?” asked Johnathan.

“My fault for sending a single man. He fell in love with an American and is not returning. He did, however, send his report.” The solicitor took a paper from the folder and handed it to the earl.

“I have made you a copy. As you see, both men agree that Mr. Nathaniel Whittaker was indeed the son of the Third Earl of Ryeland and thus the original heir to the title. I have a letter here signed by Mr. Whittaker confirming that he has pledged his allegiance to the United States and disavowed the crown which solidifies the legitimacy of your father’s claim to being the Fifth Earl.

I shall retain a copy of the document, and the original is included as evidence with your petition. ”

Johnathan sat wordlessly, though his mind was more than full.

He had not thought the men would return so soon.

It was possible to make the voyage in less than two months either way.

And their business could have concluded quickly.

Grandfather had nothing to hide. Disappointment filled him.

A growing part of him hoped the visit would prove unsatisfactory, thus putting an end to the petition without the necessity of him declining.

After this morning’s news, the idea of pledging allegiance to a king, a man, who by some accounts was mad, and the Prince Regent, who possessed all the morals of a common barn cat, was morally repugnant.

The Incident at Dartmoor was a massacre on his countrymen.

How could the Crown do anything other than immediately apologize?

The solicitor pulled out another paper. “I have already sent a copy of this to Mr. Fawkes. This, according to Mr. Whittaker, is a complete list of his wives, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. While it is obvious that Johnathan would not be first in line for the title, none of his relations are willing to take it either and have signed affidavits to that effect.” He handed over more papers and added three sealed letters.

“These letters are for you, Mr. Whittaker.”

The earl shuffled the papers. “In your opinion is there anything to keep the petition from proceeding?”

“Not from the information I have gathered. I believe Mr. Nathaniel Whittaker’s accounts and the witness of the man I sent will be adequate to establish the validity of Mr. Johnathan Whittaker’s claim.

There will be no challenge from that front.

However, Mr. Fawkes has yet to deliver his final findings.

I see no reason why you should not see that the petition is added to the parliamentary docket.

” The solicitor’s words dropped as a gavel.

Why did becoming an Earl, a well-respected man of society, a man who could affect reform, feel like a prison sentence?