Blackburn Wendell

The Amorous Adventures of Belinda

INTRODUCTION

During the dark days of the second world war, when German bombs were devastating all of Britain, many strange things came to light. Age old secrets, hidden for centuries in long forgotten vaults, were brought to light. In one of these vaults beneath the ruins of an old monastery outside London, two manuscripts were found. One was a diary written by a man named Robert Walter Finch, the other, part of a novel by the same man obviously based on his life. Finch lived at the time of Elizabeth I when that fascinating monarch was almost at the end both of her reign and of her life. He was at court in the capacity of secretary and to advance his young niece, Belinda.

When these manuscripts were first found, they were immediately hidden away again. Too much was revealed of the lustful, orgiastic life of the English nobility of that time. Eventually, they fell into the hands of a man who asks that his name be kept secret. He is retired now, but once held the chair of history in one of England's greatest universities. As they stood, the manuscripts were barely readable. The language was, of course, archaic, and the literary style left much to be desired. My friend felt though, that they should be published in some form. Although the contents may have revealed a type of life many would like to forget existed, nonetheless, it did exist. The court of the elderly Elizabeth could well afford to indulge itself and it took full advantage of it. He gave the precious papers to me and asked me to see what I could do with them. The following book is the result. Although I have edited extensively, putting both diary and romance to use, none of the details or facts have been changed. It still gives us a true picture of at least one section of society in that long past day.

Blackburn Wendell

London, Eng. 1968

CHAPTER ONE

A light breeze ruffled the grasses beside the young girl as she dangled one foot in the stream. She sat on the bank, one leg hanging over the edge and the other bent so that her head rested on her knee. She was no more than a child but at twelve was a beautiful promise of the woman to come.