Dear Gentle Readers,
Lord of Blakeley is a time travel adventure love story. Andrew is a simple farm boy who lives in the agricultural province of Blakeley. He has a fascination for Lady Aleese, the ward of neighboring ruler. He has tried to get in to see her on various occasions, but was always thrown out. One day, she comes to Blakeley for a visit.
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How It All Began
Location: Blakeley Province, Year 2073, Planet Nord
The woman of Blakeley spent days cleaning and airing out the Manor House and preparing food for her arrival. The men checked the solar cells and hooked up power to the building and the lighting to all the rooms. Water service was restored. There was cooking and baking and decorating, the likes had not been seen in ten years. The big house had remained empty since the last Blakeley Lord had died in battle ten years ago and his wife, Lady Blakeley died six months later, some say of a broken heart. The day of Lady Aleese’s arrival, the children gathered wildflowers. And all the eligible, interested bachelors of Blakeley, which was all of them, were lined up in front of the Manor House in a giant semi-circle as the Havenhill Party rode into the village in beautiful ornate carriages pulled by white stallions decorated with ribbons and pink roses.
The children sang songs as the beautiful Aleese, in a simple cream satin dress emerged from the carriage and waved to them.
“Oh, look at them! They are so sweet.”
“They’re not sweet. They’re dirty little ragamuffins with no self-control,” snorted Lord Havenhill.
Aleese laughed. “Will you please relax and try not to be so… grumpy.”
“Grumpy? I’m not grumpy. I just… don’t want to be here.”
“And it shows. Why don’t you go in the Manor House and find somebody to fuss over you and bring you tea and maybe a cookie.”
“Okay. I will. This gangly lot is all that Blakeley Province has to offer you, Aleese. Some are strong, a few are smart, and one or two might even be considered handsome in a farm boyish kind of way, but honestly, my child, there is not a Blakeley man that is all three. Of all the men on Nord, these Blakeley males are the most ill-suited to take on the role of leadership. They’re dirt-diggers who only understand a good thrashing. Are you absolutely sure you want a Blakeley man?
“The men from Portmist are much larger and much stronger. Langley men are pleasant and very quiet. The men from Comerton are handsome and, although not very smart, are bred to please. The men from New Quark are scientific and very precise. And Havenhill men, as you well know, are natural leaders, brilliant, and very charming and would be able to appreciate a woman of your quality and distinction. I had really hoped you would agree to take Grant as your mate and become the Lady of Havenhill one day. He is a natural-born leader, you know.”
“Oh, I am sure you did. And, yes, Grant is a fine man. He will be a great Nordon leader one day. And he will always hold a very special place in my heart.”
“You know he loves you. I know he can be stubborn. I’ve tried my best to stomp that out of him, but his mother coddles him. But you know Grant cares for you a great deal. He would take excellent care of you and protect you.”
“Of course, I know that. But I seek more than just care and protection. Lord Harold, I want love, pure blissful love, the kind that races the heart and raises the spirit; the kind you can feel coursing through your veins. I am drawn here to Blakeley, Lord Havenhill. I believe the man I seek is here in this beautiful province. I have seen him in my dreams. He draws me to him. And I will know him when I see his warm, sweet eyes, when I hear his wonderful voice, when I touch him and feel the spark. I know it.”
“Oh, child, I’m not sure that kind of love even exists anymore. That was love a long, long time ago, before the big wars, before we became so jaded with all these labor-saving devices, scientific discoveries, and space travel. I remember it, a man and a woman in love. Nothing else mattered,” he sighed and looked off into the distance, remembering something, someone from his distant past.
“Well, here they are, the whole rangy lot of them. I cannot imagine a man from Blakeley leading us to peace, stopping the war, or neutralizing damn, crazy bastard Samuel, the Bishop, let alone being the love of your life, your mate, as the prophecy has foretold. But if you wish to examine this sorry lot, one by one, then I shall help you in any way I can. I remember the promise I made to your father, to trust your judgment.”
“Thank you, Lord Havenhill. You are very kind… and brilliant and charming,” she laughed.
Andrew and Carmine walked up from the fields together, hearing the call to come to the village square.
“What’s going on?” asked Carmine.
“They’re calling for all single men to come to the village square immediately,” said Jared.
“Why?” asked Carmine, getting in line.
“It seems the fair and lovely Golden Lady Aleese has turned twenty years old and was told by her guardian Lord Havenhill to pick a mate or have one chosen for her. She has had a future vision of her mate, and she believes him to be a Blakeley man. She has come here to find him with the intention of marrying him, which would then make him, get this, the new Lord of Blakeley,” said Jared.
“No kidding? You have got to be joking,” Andrew said, amazed at the prospect. “This can’t be real!”
“Why? Because you think there is not a man among us who is worthy of her? You think that there is not a man in our whole province that is brave enough, strong enough, smart enough, and handsome enough to catch the eye of lovely Lady Aleese?”
“No. I don’t just think it. I know it. I am sure of it,” Andrew nodded. “She is like no other woman I have ever seen.”
“You’ve been crazy about her for years, since the day you saw her at the Library. You stood there and listened to her talk and then followed her around for hours and hours, with this really dumb smile on your face.”
“Yes, I remember,” he laughed. “I was amazed by her. Enthralled. I’d never seen anything like her before in my life. Actually, I saw her first at the hospital in Portmist, talking to the patients, easing their pain, soothing their worries, and talking to the doctors, listening to their concerns.
“And, yes, I went specially to hear her speak at the Grand Library in New Quark and I spent the whole day following her around, watching her, listening to her, trying to catch her eye. She is truly outstanding, mesmerizing. She is so much more than beautiful. She’s very intelligent, concerned about others, and funny, and so very sweet. She has this intuitive sense. I tried to get close enough to her just to say hello and tell her I thought she was wonderful, but I couldn’t get anywhere near her.
“Once I called out to her and she turned toward me, but tons of Havenhill guards descended upon me and dragged me outside and beat me off.
“Grant Havenhill’s doing, I presume. He doesn’t want any other man anywhere near her. She deserves so much more than Grant Havenhill. Or the sorry likes of one of us! She deserves some big, strong, handsome, smart, brave hero, someone who will make her happy. And I don’t think there’s a man among us who could figure a way out of this damn futile war and lead our world to peace. We are not fighters or men of deep thought. We’re nothing more than simple farmers,” said Andrew.
“How exactly does this interview process work?”
“So… after all that, you’re in?” laughed Carmine.
“Absolutely, I’m in. But do you think I have time to go home and change my shirt?” They all laughed.
“Yes, go. We’ll save you a place.”
Andrew ran home, freshened up, and changed his shirt. He walked back to the village center with a happy spring in his step.
“Am I too late?”
“No, your place is saved here at the end of the line.”
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