Major Lord David

Lord Sidley’s Last Season

Quiet Meg

The Honorable Marksley

Sherry Lynn
Ferguson

The year 1815 was at the door, but the Duke of Braughton’s
guests refused to admit it. The crowd’s easy laughter and excited conversation continued unabated as midnight and the
first of January approached.

Observing the revelers, David found nothing lacking. This
New Year’s celebration was one of a long line of happy gatherings. For more than three decades his parents had entertained
family, friends, and neighbors in grand fashion at the castlethe massive, medieval “ruin,” as his brother, Myles, Marquis
of Hayden, inevitably referred to their eminence of a home.
Tonight Braughton overflowed with greenery, candles, mirrors, and colorful swags, and sheltered a throng of masked visitors. Their joyful activity warmed the lofty Leicestershire
halls, turning the place into what Hayden had also ruefully
termed an “inn.”