I hope the great and talented creator of musical culture responsible for this inspiring material begrudges us not for highlighting it here. But this disembodied spirit narrator burdened with the telling of the tale (for it is his tale) wafts through productions of the great composer's work all the time and wants you, oh best belov-eds, to think upon it.
Though that comes later...
Now we must return to Lawrence Edgerton (please know that the spirit was Edgerton) and what happened to him after the 'pleasurable' dinner and card came at Mivart's Hotel (the egg that grew into Claridge's) last time we met..... David Hefton (known as the 'second Beau Brummel') dropped him at the London townhouse he shared with his ersatz 'aunt' and left.
Inside, the selfsame lady sat in the main salon entertaining a late night visitor.... the man with the long, salt and pepper hair, indeed the gentleman who first brought young Edgerton 'out from the darkness' (an Illuminati term) a few weeks ago. They shared an aromatic Turkish hookah, as a large, wind-up music box played Gypsy folksongs in the corner. London culture in the 1830's still had a very 'romantic' bent. A soft glow from a pair of milk glass whale oil lamps bathed all in a most flattering way.
Edgerton nodded to the seated pair and joined them... The dapper, gentleman guest said - What's that smell? And I don't mean the ambergris scent from the lamps. It's something else.... The ersatz 'aunt,' herself a valued Illuminati 'light,' blushed and smiled, as the man went on... Is that some sort of perfume, or eau de cologne? And I don't mean that concoction the 'Little Corporal' favored, 4711, or whatever it was........ Edgerton didn't say a word.... I believe it is a perfume. Chantilly water if I'm not mistaken - whispered the 'aunt.'....... The visitor thought for a moment, smiled knowingly and chuckled.... Please forgive us, young sir. We're quite familiar with current practice. We know what goes on at those 'gentlemen's evenings' - said the guest..... Speak not for me - went the aunt. I am a lady..... But she ever so slightly rolled her eyes.....
The salt and pepper haired man reminded Edgerton that although true Illuminati plans and purposes were in no way evil or sinister, the world was not an innocent place. 'Lights' (members) sometimes stepped down from the high ground for the greater good. Then he referenced the Biblical story of Joseph, a well known Illuminati symbol of one who did just that.... a reverent Son of Jacob, who made his way in a scandalous, foreign society, thus saving his brethren from certain starvation, as well as saving the Egyptians too..... We are all Josephs - said the man.... And Josephinas - added the lady..... We do what we can, where we can and when we can to move the herd along. Some may hate us. Some may love us. But all need us - he added.
So Lawrence Edgerton went up to bed. His employer, Sir Charles de Castor expected him to be at his tasks by eight 0'clock and his Illuminati brothers and sisters expected him to learn the ways of 'the street' (financial district), as well as the habits of the powerful men who made their mark there.
The music box went quiet. The house was dark.
Before drifting off, young Lawrence could not help but think about the 'private girl' he'd met just a few hours earlier.
And that was it.
Let the game begin...
<more to come>
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