Chapter 2

My education of the powers of the ring came slowly. For one thing, there were no women about on whom I needed such power. The females on the estate already did my bidding without resort to supernatural power.

Gradually, I came to know the local gentry as I was introduced into society. As the estate was worth many thousands of pounds annually, I was immediately of the higher gentry myself. The estate was titled, and I wondered how could I explain the previous master had been born hundreds of years before in claiming such a title. But the title passed by acclamation and no one seemed to worry that the last title was held for so long a period, if anyone was even aware.

I learned that the people of the county knew almost nothing of the prior master. He had always been old and had lived almost a hermit in the mansion. I assumed the name and duties of the Estate. Being single and young and well provided, I found myself frequently invited to houses wherein single daughters resided. There were the Barrett's, with three daughters ages eighteen to thirteen. There were the Woodhouse girls, sixteen and twenty-two. There were the Bennett girls, seventeen, fifteen, thirteen and eight, although I don't think the family thought Lydia Bennett, the eight year-old, a suitable companion for me. They had much higher hopes for Jane, the eldest. Unfortunately for Jane, she was also the plainest girl in the county. Her sister, Mary at fifteen, was quite a handsome girl with lovely brown hair and piercing eyes, a fair complexion, and a comely shape.

I was also somewhat taken with Elizabeth Woodhouse, a blonde woman of serene disposition and good looks. She was also quite witty and accomplished in the arts, especially singing. At twenty-two, she had the most maturity and development to be sure. She was also the richest of the girls and she made it quite plain she had little need of a husband.

It is amazing what a change of station can do for a man's disposition. A week before and I wouldn't have cared a farthing about a girl's dowry. Being a working man myself, I didn't expect much. Now that I was among the most landed men of the county, my mind turned towards such thoughts. Foolish is our mind for I had little need of a dowry in my new station and could have made great use of it before.

The strangest situation of the three families was the Barrett's where it was the youngest girl, Harriet at thirteen, was the one who most caught my eye.

So, it wasn't the least unusual for me to be invited to dinner or supper every day of the week to visit and frequently it was one of these three families which did the inviting. I, of course, had occasion to return the obligation. I found that many of these folks had never been inside the manor house, even when young themselves. The Manor had become aged and shabby as was its master. The servants noted the change of Lord had somehow changed the very air of the Manor and the place bustled, opening windows that hadn't been opened in generations. The musty place became a place of light.

It was in this new setting that I first learned of the power of the ring. Harriet Barrett, she of the blue eyes and black hair, was visiting with her mother and older sister, Catherine. Mrs. Barrett was making sure that Catherine and I had every chance to speak. But it was Harriet by whom I could not help but be entranced.

I write this memoir in a time far removed from the events I am narrating and to an audience unfamiliar with those times. I must explain so that what follows in the narrative will make sense to the current reader. A girl without a chaperone would never be allowed to be alone with a man. It simply wasn't done. Mrs. Barrett would never have left me alone with either daughter for any extended period. It would have ruined the girls' reputation and been scandalous for the entire family.

As the three ladies were leaving, I saw Harriet looking at me. Our eyes locked and a sudden passion for the girl swept into me. It made me quite impudent and I said to Mrs. Barrett, "Could I have a moment alone with Harriet?" It was a faux pas on my part no doubt. As I said it, I was quite intent to have my will. I felt the ring, which I now wore, seem to throb in sympathy with my desire.

Mrs. Barrett looked surprised, then diffidence settled over her mien. "Of course, Lord Northam. Come along, Catherine," leaving Harriet alone with me. Poor Harriet was as stunned as Catherine by this strange behavior of her mother.

"Harriet, I should like to know you better. I know your mother would like to forward an alliance between myself and Catherine. But it is you who has caught my eye, not Catherine. I will not disappoint your mother for I fear she would withdraw and I could no longer see you. So, for propriety I will continue to show interest in Catherine. But for the feelings in my breast, I had to confess my heart. I hope you will return the affection," I said.

"Lord Northam..." she started.

"Please, call me Jeremy," I said.

"Jeremy, I don't know what to say," she said.

"Then don't say anything, especially to your mother or sister. This will be our secret. But please meet with me, alone," And again I felt the power of the ring surge.

"Of course," Harriet said. "When?"

"Tomorrow morning. Can you come to the Vicarage, to pray perhaps?"

Harriet nodded.

"I will see you then," I said. I opened the door and Harriet scrambled after her mother and sister who were waiting, one patiently, the other impatiently, for Harriet.

The next morning I called upon the Vicar. Again, the modern New World reader to whom this is addressed might be unaware of the situations of the times I am narrating. The Vicar was a priest, but he was a servant of the estate, and his salary and position were entirely dependent on the goodwill of the Lord of the Manor, me. It must be remembered that the Church of England was established as a State religion and to this day is subservient to that State. All tithes of the vicarage belonged to the estate, that is me. So, the Vicar had a very good reason to maintain good relations with the sitting Lord who could dismiss him at any moment.

"Good morning, Father," I said in greeting.

"Good morning indeed, milord. How may I serve you today?" he asked.

"I would appreciate the use of the Chapel this morning. I am meeting someone and would appreciate time to speak privately," I said.

He looked troubled for a moment, then considering his position said, "Um yes, of course. I do have to see to several parishioners out in the farms. Mrs. Trembly is suffering terribly from the gout."

"Please pass on my good wishes when you go," I said.

He bowed and left. A few minutes later the Vicar's trap with him driving left to 'see to the parishioners.'

I waited and it was not easy to wait. Would Harriet show? Did this gold band contain the power the old man said it did? I had felt something, but perhaps I had dreamed it, wishing it so. My mind was a whirlwind, doubting and affirming all in some fantastical game.

"My Lord," I heard a soft voice behind me.

I turned to see Harriet standing just inside the door to the chapel. She looked unsure of exactly what to do. After all, she was doing something quite risqué. "Come in girl. I'll not bite," I said smiling.