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J. Jonah Jerkson
Mon Dec 27, 2004 at 10:28:36 am EST
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The Baroness - Part 18 (out of continuity, more to come)
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The Baroness, Part 18 (out of continuity)
A visit to Sir Mumphrey’s – Part 1

“Now let me get this straight,” rasped Elizabeth Zemo. “I call him Sir Mumphrey, or Sir Mumphrey Wilton, but never Sir Wilton.”

“Correct. Now remember, because he is the host, you may introduce yourself to him first when you arrive, but afterwards, you wait for him to address you, because he is a mere knight.” Baron Ottokar Zemo was utterly serious.

“I thought we were in the 21st century, not the 19th!“

“You asked me to advise you on protocol,” Baron Ottokar Zemo chided her. “And Sir Mumphrey, as modern as he appears, still grew up before I did. He appreciates the nuances, even if the rest of his companions remain ignorant.”

“He thinks I’m Beth Dewdrop, so how can he appreciate the nuances of addressing me? And I am not going to wear a tiara. Forget the gown too. Sally has better things to do than play ladies’ maid. I’m giving her the weekend off in London with Lance.”

“You are far too generous to your servants. They will come to expect such gratuities, and more.”

“Yes, but I just might keep their loyalty. Unless you expect me to use the brainless minions Great-uncle Heinrich kept losing with.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Sally. “Your Excellency, the private jet’s all taken care of. The concierge service is almost done with the gift shopping, and they’ll be delivered to the airport and loaded. Lance has arranged for your car and driver in London, and the Connaught Hotel confirmed your reservation.”

“The Connaught,” murmured Baron Otto. “Most discreet, and with that restaurant. And you got a reservation at Christmas? Unglaublich. They are supposed to be booked five years ahead.”

“Monty Hole owed me a favor,” smirked Elizabeth. “Three reservations just came open, and he jumped me over the waiting list. Odd, though, how a French actor, a Gothametropolis York cardiologist and a Swedish industrialist all came down with intestinal flu at the same time.”

“I’m certain it was a complete coincidence,” Baron Otto chuckled.

“*Three* suites?” Sally asked.

“Of course. You don’t expect me to share with my grandfather, do you? And the third is for you and Lance. Take the weekend off and enjoy London. It’s a little bonus for you.”

“Fantastic – er, Your Excellency. But I don’t have anything to wear!”

“Go ahead, Sally, take the rest of the afternoon off and make sure Lance carries all the packages.” Sally waved good-bye and left so quickly that she stretched going through the door.

“And what are you going to do in London while I’m up at Sir Mumphrey’s?”

“Look up a few old friends.”

“All your old friends are either in the grave or in nursing homes sipping gruel out of spoons,” Elizabeth replied. “What are you really up to?”

“Research. Just research.”

“In that case, Grandfather Baron Otto, kindly keep the corpses out of the hotel. Your ghoulish confederates also. And you might wear something a little less provocative than your Gruppenfuhrer-SS uniform.”

“But it’s me.”

. . . .

The massive Phantom VI limousine rolled up to the entry of Wilton Manor, and a uniformed footman jumped forward to open the door for the Baroness. After climbing the short marble stairs, she discreetly spoke to the waiting butler, who dispatched a squad of footmen to unload the pile of gift-wrapped packages in the rear of the car.

As Elizabeth entered the main hall, Sir Mumphrey Wilton stepped forward to greet her and extended his hand. “Miss Sweetwater, so kind of you to accept my invitation. Welcome to Wilton Manor.”

“Thank you, Sir Mumphrey.” Whew, got it right, thought Elizabeth. “You have a most charming home here.” She grasped the older man’s hand gently and then disengaged.

“Quite. You made quite an impression with my butler Chives a few minutes ago. I’d thought that the spat with the Hellraisers in Visionary’s place had completely wiped your home from the earth and left you as destitute as your neighbor, and then you send us two cases of German champagne and arrive in a Rolls with a pile of gifts. Is there something I should know about?”

Well, better now than later. “Actually, two things, Sir Mumphrey. First, my name is Elizabeth Sweetwater Dewdrop, not “Dewdrop Sweetwater,” though we’ve hardly known each other well enough for me to notice.”

Sir Mumphrey’s eyes and expression remained stolid. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth went on. “But the second is probably what is concerning you. I’m the heiress of Baron Heinrich Zemo, your old adversary, and I’ve taken the title.”

“And about half the capitalization of Royal Friesland-Conch Oil, plus a lot of other things in the last three weeks, as I understand it.”

“Rumors,” Elizabeth parried, “merely rumors. I’m quite busy enough cataloguing the estate.”

“And putting one of your great-uncle’s personal force fields to good use, I see.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. They’re quite useful. But, if you’d like me to leave, I certainly understand.”

“Not at all, Baroness. Your great-uncle, bounder that he was, was always inviting the Legion over to the castle; I could hardly be less gracious. And besides, we already have an archvillain in attendance; I have to balance the table with a female counterpart.”

“The Hood—“ Elizabeth lost her composure for a moment.

“Quite. Now about those packages that Chives was dealing with? I can’t have my guests jeapordized by any of your great-uncle’s little devices, what?”

“You have my parole that none of them is harmful. You know some what I did during the Hellraisers’ invasion; I have debts of honor too. ”

“As you certainly did, and my invitation stands. We may become enemies, but we don’t forget our allies, even temporary ones, when we celebrate. All I ask is that you not abuse my hospitality.”

“Of course not, Sir Mumphrey. Merry Christmas.”


Playing the part of Baroness Elizabeth Zemo:

J. Jonah Jerkson
VOICE OF THE PEOPLE



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