The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 850: After modification: Chapter 1 The Mysterious Sir Hastings_2

Arthur found that these ladies, on one hand, were very happy to be acknowledged by a ‘professional hunter’, yet on the other hand, they were genuinely a bit afraid of him. A single word could satisfy the ladies’ vanity, provide them with a day’s worth of gossip, and he didn’t have to exert himself. Could there possibly be a better title than ‘Wealthy Lady Hunter’?

It seemed almost heavier than his knight title.

After scaring away several adorable ladies and their servants with three consecutive ‘Good morning, ladies’, Arthur finally could leisurely do something he liked in his private garden.

He wore a dark blue pinstriped tailcoat, complemented by a light-colored waistcoat and a white hand-embroidered linen neckerchief, topped with a straw hat. He held a delicate copper watering can in his hand, leisurely watering the exotic plants in the garden.

Every leaf was bathed in the sparkling water droplets under his meticulous care, and the roses bloomed exceptionally bright and fragrant under his attention. His movements were gentle and rhythmic, as if each sprinkle was a hymn to the beauty of nature.

Looking around, every inch of the garden had been carefully designed, following the popular garden art layout of the time while incorporating the owner’s personal artistic taste. Along the winding paths, the heather hedges were neatly arranged, and the various plants were distinctly layered, creating a harmonious and vibrant scene.

Arthur felt immensely pleased as he gazed at this beautiful landscape. He was glad he could find something to do during his convalescence after leaving Scotland Yard.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ready to savor the fragrance of the garden. But in an instant, his brows furrowed. Arthur glanced around and immediately found the source of his discomfort.

He removed his gloves and uprooted the remaining relics from the Great Dumas era in the garden: “Damn it! I thought I had cleared it all, didn’t expect there to still be some garlic left.”

He casually placed the garlic on the small round table set up in the garden and lay on a chair. Miss Becky Sharp, the maid cleaning the front hall, promptly brought over a silver tray with a cup of freshly brewed Ceylon tea and the day’s edition of “The Times”.

Arthur smiled as he accepted it, thanked her, and then asked, “Becky, do you find the work here heavy? If needed, I can hire a few more people. Ever since Alexander moved out, this big house always feels empty every day.”

Becky, holding the tray, gently shook her head: “Sir, the work here is quite light. Your clothes aren’t many, although the house is large, it doesn’t collect dust like houses in the city or those facing the street. Besides, you don’t need me to cook lunch and dinner. So, except for preparing tea and cleaning in the morning, the rest of the time is fairly easy.

I heard from other girls in our village that they not only have to do what I do but also help with children, three or four at least, sometimes seven or eight, wash clothes, cook, and shop, without missing a thing. They earn less than I do, so how can I complain about heavy work with you?”

Arthur took a sip of his tea and said, “Hmm… Becky, how should I put it. Actually, I’m not just considering the workload. Perhaps you don’t know, but I might have to leave London for Hanover soon, and this trip will last at least a year. Although Bayswater has always been safe, leaving you alone at home, I am still uneasy.

Or, if you are willing, during my time in Hanover, I might as well give you a long holiday. I will advance you a year’s salary, and you can take this money home to rest or do something else. Leave me your home’s address, and I will notify you to return to work when I come back.”

Arthur thought this condition was quite good, but Becky was so terrified that her face turned pale. Seeing her trembling lips, it seemed the girl was a bit angry.

“Sir… Sir, is there something wrong with my work?”

“No.” Arthur still didn’t realize he had offended Becky. He drank his tea while reading the paper: “On the contrary, I think you did a very good job. Even at eighteen, the whole of London probably couldn’t find someone more competent than you.”

Becky sighed with relief. She now finally realized that this was probably due to the Lord’s eccentric temperament acting up again.

Becky explained: “Sir, if you really recognize my work, then don’t send me home. I know you mean well, but if I go back to the village like this, those people will look down on me. They’ll gossip, saying I must have been fired, calling me a lazy woman not good at my work. For a maid, there’s nothing more humiliating than that.”

Arthur joked: “Becky, don’t worry, getting fired is no big deal. I was fired from Scotland Yard, and it was the Home Office that directly issued the order. Didn’t you notice? On the day I left Scotland Yard, the whole of Fleet Street was filled with a joyful atmosphere. Those journalists and editors’ pens are way nastier than the village folks’ gossips.”

Becky said helplessly: “Sir, you can’t joke about everything. But I think leaving Scotland Yard might be a good thing, it’s really dangerous there, I don’t want to lose a good master like you.”

Arthur laughed heartily: “Becky, actually, you already lost me, but I don’t know why, I inexplicably survived.”

Nearby, Agares picked up the garlic head from the table and chewed it: “Are you sure you survived inexplicably? Arthur, you little rascal, you are really an ungrateful, shameless, and heartless guy. But, just keep it this way, I quite like it, keep going.”

Becky recalled when Scotland Yard notified her that Arthur died in the line of duty, and her lips turned pale with fright: “You’re always like this, or should I say, men are always like this, liking to go to dangerous places, to watch the commotion. Luckily, God blessed you, and you survived, waking up after three days of unconsciousness, just like a story from the Bible, like Jesus’ resurrection.”

Arthur waved his hand gently: “Becky, you mustn’t say that, this is not resurrection. You should know, in our United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, resurrection requires Parliamentary legislation, National Church review, submission to the Privy Council, and approval by His Majesty the King and other Excellencies before it can be passed. Without going through this process, even if one is resurrected, it’s an illegal resurrection.

Although most of our country’s regulations are judged based on common law and require precedents, the judges unanimously agreed that for resurrection matters, they should follow Roman law principles, and cases prior to 1832 cannot be used as general precedents.”

Becky blinked as she earnestly tried to understand, eventually, she shook her head in frustration: “Sir, I don’t understand.”

Arthur shrugged: “Seems like, besides hiring more people to watch the house, I need to find a family tutor to train you before I leave. Becky, you have to be more serious, otherwise, you can’t do the job of head maid well.”

Becky was stunned for a while. As she just realized that something good might have happened to her, there came the sound of a bell outside the garden fence.

Two black carriages stopped in front of Arthur’s house, and a few familiar faces stepped down.

With a checkbook between his fingers, smiling lightly and waving at Arthur, Lionel Rothschild,

A recent victim of harassment from his illegitimate children and old lovers, Alexander Dumas,

With noble blood but no place for it, Louis Bonaparte,

Who was no longer Arthur’s subordinate but still showed considerable progress in his presence, Superintendent Ledley King of the Police Intelligence Department at the Royal Greater London Police Department.

And, commended personally by His Majesty the King and recognized in a Home Office announcement for his outstanding performance on the night of the June 5th London riots, promoted to Police Commissioner, the head of the Secret Operations Department and Sharpshooter of the Police Intelligence Department at the Royal Greater London Police Department, Thomas Plunkett.