Mayfair Square, London. 1824
The trouble with the people at 7 Mayfair Square is that
they are alive.
There is no doubt that bodies, the bones and blood, the
mortal mind, the so-called heart and other various bits and
pieces get in the way of good, solidly disconnected logic.
It's all that and the wretched feelings they swear by that
may scuttle the sensible plans of a superior being like
yours truly. Nevertheless, I must say that being a ghost
can be more than it is cracked up to be.
My word, I almost forgot to tell you that I am the late Sir
Septimus Spivey, esteemed architect knighted for his
worldly accomplishments, the crowning glory of which was my
family home at Number 7 Mayfair Square.
Desperation at the possible misuse of my masterpiece forced
me to hang around in mortal form until I was 102! 102, I
tell you, when I was perfectly ready to commence my path to
heaven a good ten years earlier. If my family hadn't shown
themselves incapable of keeping my house in the manner to
which it deserved to be accustomed, I should not have
wasted those extra years trying to guide my ungrateful
progeny. I rarely complain, but this delay put me
considerably behind in angel school and it has only been
through diligent work that I have made sterling progressโ
much to the annoyance of my "friend," William Shakespeare
and one or two others I won't bore you with now.
That's history and I only mention it to let you know that
since you will be supporting me in my current endeavor, you
are on the side of right.
You'll be meeting the former Misses Smiles who used to rent
7B Mayfair Square--the second floor. Below the Smiles,
Latimer More and his sister, Finch, had 7A, and the third
floorโfor reasons only my granddaughter Lady Hester Bingham
could explainโbecame her home and known as 7. Hunter Lloyd,
her nephew, lived on the same floor and that oaf of a
painter, Adam Chillworth was, and is, in residence at 7C as
they call it. An attic by any other name is still an attic
to me and that's where that frequently silent, oppressive
north countryman continues to live.
I had no intention of boring you with too much information
but why not bring you up to date on the happenings of
recent years within the walls of my house.
As I planned, Finch More married Ross, Viscount Kilrood, a
scotsman who owns Number 8 Mayfair Square, in addition to
considerable Scottish holdings. They divide their time
between the London house and the Scottish estate.
Meg Smiles of 7B designed an audacious plan and snared Jean-
Marc, Count Etranger, the vulgarly wealthy son of Prince
Georges, ruler of Mont Nuages, a principality on the border
between France and Germany. They own Number 17 Mayfair
Square and a home at Windsor. That little arrangement
wasn't quite what I had in mind but it worked well enough.
Meg's sister, Sybil, was as besotted with Hester's nephew,
Hunter Lloyd, just as he was with her and since their
marriage this has remained sickeningly true. Hunter, a
barrister, was knighted for services to George IVโthat
almost came to a nasty pass. A Cornish holding and
considerable money came with the knighthood. The holding is
small but nice enough. However, the boy insists on spending
a good deal of time at Number Seven and Sibyl is as
attached to Lady Hester as he is. Their little boy doesn't
lessen the confusion about the place, even if more rooms
have been made over for the family.
Drat, I knew I should get a headacheโan ache in the region
where my head once was, that isโif I tried to make you
aware of the way things are and how they became so.
That leaves Latimer More, Finch's, now Viscountess
Kilrood's brother. I got lucky there. The unthinkable
actually worked out and he settled on a pauper, an orphan
from the most degrading beginnings, as his wife. Jenny
O'Brien was . . . well, I must be charitable. Jenny knew
she had no rightful place in the polite world and did her
best to make that rattle Latimer see the truth. He didn't
and they're married. The only good part of that arrangement
is that they now live at Number Eight, Ross and Finch's
house, where they have a handsome suite of rooms and seem
ridiculously happy each time Ross and Finch and their
offspring arrive to crowd the place.
A moment please, I must rest after all that.
Did I tell you that one of the flawlessly carved newel
posts in the foyer at Number 7 is my retreat? Well, it is.
From here, at the base of my miraculous staircase, I
observe all comings and goings. I admit that since my wings
have matured from buds and are growing a little every day,
I am not quite as comfortable as I used to be; the space
inside the post has become somewhat snug. Yes, yes, of
course I know I should be able to deal with this problem
but I can't ask help in finding out how to make the change
and I have had rather a lot of other things to learn.
By gad I forgot Birdie, that wretched, wispy little
creature Hester insisted on adopting. The child is
audacious but Hester dotes upon her and I suppose the girl
dotes upon her, but she makes entirely too much noise.
Fortunately she dotes on Hunter and Sibyl and spends a
goodly amount of time with them.
Toby! I can't be blamed if some of these people slip my
mind. Toby is Jenny More's tatty young friend from her days
of living in Whitechapel and, yet again, Hester took pity
on the clumsy creature. He now lives in the best room in
servants's quarters and is treated like a particularly
intelligent pet.
Never mind all that. Forget about it unless one or two of
them show up while I'm cleaning up the mess they've all
made at Number 7. And they have made a mess. Almost nothing
is simple.
But I have a plan, the Perfect Plan. My previous attempts
to rid the house of Hester's unbearable lodgers (protogรฉes
as she pretends they are) were fraught with obstacles
because I had not seen the obvious. Lady Hester Bingham
must become a celebrity hostess and patroness in her own
right. For this she will need her home to be serene and
impeccable. There she will welcome literary gatherings,
guide silly girls toward fine matches, and have the ear of
every important member of the ton.
There are one or two problems to overcomeโ:when haven't
there been problems to overcome in this house? But getting
rid of Adam Chillworth is my essential goal now, and since
the only woman he believes he can love (as if love had
anything to do with these matters) is Jean-Marc Count
Etranger's sister, Princess Desirรฉe of Mont Nuages, then
that must be arranged.
Since the attic at 7 Mayfair Square would hardly make an
adequate home for a princess, I'm sure the girl's brotherโ
once he stops trying to oppose the marriage, as he most
certainly willโI'm sure Jean-Marc will provide a suitably
splendid abode and, after all, the Princess herself is to
come into a fortune. And if that dolt Chillworth climbs on
his high horse and talks about not being prepared to live
on his wife, well then, there are ways to force his hand.
I do foresee a nasty conundrum in Hester's plans to
renovate the house. Hunter and Sybil encourage all this,
but from what I've heard of those plans, well, they must
not be carried out and I shall rely upon your eyes and ears
and, where necessary, your hands to help me scuttle their
vulgar ideas.
The usual rule appliesโyour mouths are no good to me and
should be kept shut.
I'm off to meet someone who will be my right hand in all of
this, my earthly helper. In the past my error has been to
seek the assistance of empty minds I assumed would be
simple to control and guide. Never again. This time I have
realized where I went wrong. This time a busy mind will be
the weapon against any resistance. After all, doesn't it
make sense that the busy mind of a self-centered person
will clamor and scheme with such deafening vigor that my
instructions, so craftily introduced, will go unnoticed in
the din. Before this indispensable helper realizes what's
happened, the deeds I order will be performed and even
then, and with any luck, the arrogant prancer will still be
too involved with other matters to notice mine.
It is time to set my plans in motion. Await my dispatches
and be ready to act. Soon.
© 2003-2026