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I believe the rich men have come to accept me as their own. After all, I do have a lot of money now. Elizabeth might have aided the process but it was my speculation and risk on the Continental Dollar which multiplied our wealth. These aristocrats used to snub me off like the end of a burnt cigarette but now I’m the cigar they all want to light. The dollar is green everywhere. I don’t understand why they condemned me so vehemently earlier. Could they not see the sharp mind behind my words? Sure, my words might have been delivered with an accent that was slightly unfamiliar to them but I did speak their language. While Elizabeth was looked upon with much respect, I did not receive the same despite being married to her. Well, I have earned my position now. I am Lord Timothy Dexter . Aren’t they glad they didn’t sever ties with me earlier? Elizabeth claims that they’re forced to acknowledge me and I must tread with caution but that silly woman has been living under a rock with money she didn’t make herself. They aren’t forced to acknowledge me. They want to acknowledge me, associate with me. I am now a part of the crème de la crème of the society. Tread with caution? My foot.

In fact, let me tell you a story that will instil more faith in the belief that I have been accepted into the elite circles of Newburyport. We were sitting together one evening at one of our friend’s mansions. It was nothing in comparison to the one I’ve built but it Mr. Bradford made sure we were well attended. We men were sitting after dinner with our drinks and cigars when a few of them began talking about the rising need of warming pans in the West Indies. My ears perked up and I inquired further. If it were a business opportunity, I wasn’t going to let it slip from right under my nose. But quite surprisingly, I didn’t have to use any underhand means to acquire further information. The men were more than willing to share their knowledge with me. These aristocrats are good people. They leave no stone unturned in helping one of their own. At length, they advised me to take a shipment of warming pans to the West Indies for there was a huge want of it. They said they’d have capitalized on this opportunity themselves but their funds were tied up elsewhere. I, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about the dearth of money. I decided to make the most of it.

The next day I went to the market and found the best manufacturer of warming pans. I didn’t haggle with him too much for there was no need to. I placed an order for forty-two thousand pans. The men at Mr. Bradford’s had made it sound like such a profitable venture that I couldn’t stand to order only one shipment worth of pans. Next, I enlisted nine ships to carry my wares to West Indies and decided the date we would set sail. Everything was in place and my efforts received much praise and admiration. Once again, Elizabeth told me to tread with caution. I was getting tired of her parroting the same statement but I cut that hare-brained woman some slack. She meant well.

However, it turns out these aristocrats aren’t as smart as they believe they are. I landed in the West Indies with my full fur coat only to find the sun shining brightly above my head. I thought it must’ve been one of those days when the weather was exceptional but soon enough I found out that this was a 365 days a year phenomenon. Little did the inhabitants of this land required warming pans to make their beds liveable! I could feel the anger and disappointment rise within me but talk about good luck! A jovial captain of one of my ships came to the rescue. He understood my predicament and examined the warming pans carefully. He had the most wonderful solution to my problem! This was the land of sugar and molasses plantations. He simply rebranded these pans as ladles and before we knew it, they were selling like hot cakes! I’d narrate a tale of how I toiled very hard to sell my shipments but Lady Luck was on my side. I was an easy winner.

I came home and Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when she heard of the handsome profits I had made. It made me wonder a little, though. These aristocrats are supposed to be the elite and knowledgeable class of society. They’re well-read and well-travelled. How did they arrive at the conclusion that the beds of a warm land required warming pans? It was certainly alarming but since I had done rather well on the transaction, it did not bother me on the surface. But suddenly, Elizabeth pet phrase came to me. It irked me at the back of my mind. Was it a genuine mistake on their part? But how could so many men make the same mistake? Or had they tried to dupe me? If so, the joke was on them. But, am I not a part of them now? Aren’t I a member of the high society too? Well, I will think about this as I rest in my mansion, grander than any of theirs. Only time will tell.

 

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