[b]South Carolina[/b]

The young rider clung tightly to his horse as it galloped down the muddy road. The bay strode confidently across the rutted mess of road towards the small village while the boy did his best to hang on. He was a new dispatch rider, used to running messages across Charlestown on foot. This was his first time out of the city as a messenger, and only his third time ever on horseback in his young life. Around the bend, the village of Goose Creek came into view. It wasn't much, just a dozen buildings around a white church. But that would soon change, as all around the outskirts of the village new buildings were in the process of being raised. The need for housing had been dire one ever since the long winter had come on, and now it seemed it was finally starting to take shape.

The horse snorted and spun to the left as the boy yanked on the reigns and prayed that the beast would come to a stop. Once it did, he found the lone two story building in the village and dismounted. He clung tightly to his messenger bag and raced to the building. He flung open the door and startled the clerk inside. Though not much older than the messenger boy, the clerk might as well have been an adult by comparison. He wore a dark blue coat with a white cravat and white shirt with brown breeches while his brown hair was long and tied back behind his head.

"I have a message for Sir Thomas Bennett," the young messenger said. "It is most urgent, sir!"

"Hand it over," the clerk said with irritation in his voice. 

Upstairs, the clerk knocked softly on a door and waited to hear his master's voice.

"Enter."

Inside his office, Sir Thomas Bennett peered over a pair of spectacles with an inquisitive look and one bushy eyebrow raised. On the desk before him was a piece of paper with notes jotted down while beside the paper rested a law book. A fire crackled in the corner of the office and gave the small room warmth. 

"There's a messenger downstairs, sir, just arrived."

The clerk passed a sealed envelope to Bennett. His pulse quickened at the symbol on the wax seal. Bennett was still in the process of learning about the newly arrived English nobility, but there could be no doubt that the personal seal on the envelope belonged to Lord North. Bennett quickly read the note, a grin forming on his face as he reread it.

"Johnny," he said with a look up at his clerk. Even from behind his spectacles his green eyes danced. "Go fetch Mr. Ames. We're needed in Charlestown."


---


Sergeant William Ames was a short, barrel of a man with black hair that was beginning to show signs of recession, even has Ames did his best to hide it by growing it out. Bennett and Ames found themselves in the courthouse that now served as the British seat of government. They sat on a bench on the second floor. The place was quiet as a tomb with business halted to celebrate the new year. 

"The misses didn't think too kindly to this," Ames grunted. "She wanted to attend the new year's day service at the church in town."

Bennett said nothing. He had no wife or children, there had been no time for them in his rise in Virginia social circles. He had finally gotten to a place where he could have hoped to marry someone promising, but the cold came and that Virginia gentry had imploded upon itself. And now he was here, starting back over again. That was why he had decided to work on new year's day, why he had made young Johnny work as well. There was a ball he was due to attend later that night, but until then all Bennett could really do was sit around and bemoan what was and what wasn't.

"Sirs," a voice said from an opening door.

A middle-aged man with a ruddy face came out the door with a swift bow towards Bennett and Ames as the two men stood.

"I am Robert McTavish," he said with a Scottish burr. "Lord North's secretary. He has requested Mr. Bennett's presence. I am afraid, Mr. Ames--"

"Quite all right," Ames said quickly enough. "I know how the game is played, sir. I am not quite of Sir Thomas' class."

McTavish nodded his thanks and led Bennett through the door. Bennett glanced behind and saw Ames sitting back down on the bench with a bemused look on his face. Their partnership had not been a long one, but Bennett already knew that Ames was perhaps the most capable man he had ever come across, but he was still born of the low class and his impressive service in the Seven Years' War had raised him up some, but not enough to warrant an audience with a lord.

"M'lord," Bennett said with a sweeping bow as he entered the office of Lord North.

"Sir Thomas," North said with a curt nod. "It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

The first thing that struck Bennett upon seeing Lord North was his resemblance to the king. There were rumors and conjecture, but it was amazing for Bennett to see first hand how much the Chancellor of the Exchequer looked so much like the sovereign. They could have been brothers. North stood from behind his desk and walked around to greet Bennett. He was a pudgy man with a hangdog look upon his face. His graying hair was helped by the white powder in it. 

"Have a seat," North said with a motion towards two chairs by a fire.

"So," Bennett said once they were settled. "What can a country lawyer like me do for you, m'lord?"

North smirked and laced his fat fingers together.

"The way I hear it, Sir Thomas, you are more than a simple country lawyer."

"Depends upon whom you ask," Bennett shrugged. "To my opponents, I am the devil himself."

"And to people whose opinions I highly value, you are well known as efficient and discreet."

Bennett had to repress a smile. Lord North had been talking to Bennett's former clients in Virginia. In the last decade Bennett had made something of a cottage industry by working for the Tidewater Gentry in Virginia. He'd catered, cajoled, and kissed more than enough ass among the colonial nobility to earn his knighthood and social standing. Not only could Bennett make problems go away quickly and quietly, he could also do it with enough subservience to make the debauched bastards feel like the royalty they claimed to be.

"So what can a man of my skill set do you help you, m'lord?"

North bit at his lower lip and looked at Bennett with watery eyes.

"Colonel Stephen Butler, are you familiar with the name?"

"Vaguely," Bennett said, leaning forward in his seat as North drew to the heart of the matter. "I think I have meet him since my move here. He was an officer in the British army?"

"Aye, he was a Dragoon in India during the Seven Years' War. Colonel Butler fought bravely in Calcutta and parlayed the war success to a seat in the Commons. He represents --represented-- Bosworth in the midlands. With the weather crisis, things like parliamentary representation have yet to be settled."

"What has Colonel Butler done, m'lord?" Bennett asked. 

"Disappeared," North said bluntly. "For the past month, he has not attended meetings in the Commons chamber on the ground floor, and the landlady at his boarding house says she has not seen the Colonel even longer than that. His room was given to a new boarder and the old lady collected his items. She says that it seems he just left and never came back."

Bennett raised his eyebrow. Members of parliament were known to come and go, especially now with the Commons not in session and the extraordinary circumstances of the time. Why would Lord North care about where Colonel Butler was?

Except...

"The Duke of Grafton?" Bennett asked. "The rumors are true, then?"

North nodded. "By god, sir, you are a clever fellow. Yes, the Duke of Grafton is griped with... something. Call it madness or hysteria or even intense melancholy. Whatever ails him, he is in no shape to serve as prime minister. As soon as parliament reconvenes, there will be a no confidence vote against him. As head of the Exchequer I am the natural successor, but there are some who would disagree."

"And Colonel Butler is a Tory." Bennett stated. It was not meant to be a question. "A key vote in the election of the next Tory leader."

North spread his hands as if to say there you have it.

"If the colonel has fled the city, then he needs to be found and brought back in time for the next session in the Commons. If you can do this for me, Sir Thomas, then you will have the thanks of the nation and your government. For king and country, will you assist me?"

Bennett made sure that his smile was not as wide as he wanted it to be when he answered. 

"Yes, of course. For king and country."

And, he thought to himself, to have the next prime minister of the United Kingdom in my debt.