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She disappeared without a word. Silently, Pa strode to the sideboard where the drinks tray waited, and poured two glasses of brandy, pushing one into Julia’s hand.
“I shall talk to your stepmother about this later, and explain to her exactly why her actions were so wrong, although I think she knows perfectly well. I don’t need to explain it to you, I know that.”
“No, Pa.”
“It is a shocking thing that my own wife should be so misguided.” He sighed heavily, waving her to a chair beside the fire and sitting himself, leaning forward and cradling his glass. “I wonder if I did a very wrong thing in uprooting you all and moving down here, for Lizzie’s mind is now filled with plans for Rosie to marry well, and everything must bow down to that imperative. I’ll be happy if it happens, of course… if she finds a man she can love and respect amongst the nobility, but if Lord Charles is typical of the species, that doesn’t augur well, does it?”
“They’re not all like him, though. Lord and Lady Craston are lovely. I was with you once when you met them on the street and they stopped to talk just like regular acquaintances, and not a bit of stiffness about them, even though he’ll be a marquess one day and they were wildly fashionable.”
Pa’s face softened. “That’s true. There are good and bad in the aristocracy just as in the merchant class.”
“And they have less reason for being bad, with the privileged life they lead,” Julia said.
He chuckled. “Ah, puss, you’re such a comfort to me. I love all my children dearly, and I hope I never have favourites, but you’re the one I turn to when I want reassuring that we’ve not changed, despite all the fancy new clothes and the big house. You and I haven’t changed. Our heads may enjoy the Hertfordshire rain, but our feet are still firmly planted in Yorkshire. I never objected when your grandfather insisted on you all having what he called a proper education, for I knew what he was about — making a clear distinction between the legitimate children and the illegitimate son. So Ted went off to the grammar school, just like I did, but Will and Johnny went to Harrow and Cambridge, and you girls had a whole succession of fancy governesses with prim mouths and ladylike ways. And somehow, it drove a wedge between me and them. Sometimes I wonder if there’s very much of me left in any of them. But all that education didn’t work with you. Oh, you learnt a few things, but you’re still a good Yorkshire lass at heart. And for all your stepmother’s a proper lady with her manners and her fancy way of talking, she doesn’t have one quarter your good sense.”
“Now, that isn’t true at all, Pa,” Julia said. “You’re just cross with her for now, but you’ll kiss and make it up, and then you’ll be more reasonable about it. You’re spending a lot of money and Mama’s putting a lot of effort into launching Rosie into society, so it’s natural that mistakes get made along the way.”
“You see? So much good sense.” He chuckled again, leaned back in his chair and took a long draught of brandy. “Such a comfort to me, puss. I’m glad Camilla’s going. I never liked her being here, and I liked still less dumping her on you, but now she’ll be gone and you can do as you please again. Plenty more long walks, eh? And this close to Easter, the weather will be improving every day.”
It was a delightful thought. But first, there was another matter niggling in Julia’s mind. “So how about we have a look at this secret stair that Lord Charles used to escape?”
Pa smiled broadly. “What an excellent idea.”
~~~~~
James returned from the evening at the Park filled with optimism. He was a naturally buoyant person, never downhearted for very long, so Julia’s rejection of his suit had not dented his plans in the slightest. He had taken her by surprise, that was the problem. Seeing herself as the awkward middle sister, she had not expected to be courted seriously, but he had sown the seed of the idea in her mind, and surely it would grow day by day. All he had to do was to pursue her with energy, and sooner or later she would succumb. Such a good start last night! No one, least of all Julia herself, could doubt the rightness of the match after an evening like that. It was a pity he had been drawn away after dinner, but it had given her the opportunity to miss his company. She had been subdued and even a little pale later on, so perhaps she was already softening towards him.
So full of energy was he, and so keen to continue his wooing at once, that he determined to call at the Park that very day. He had the excuse of thanking Mrs Fletcher for her hospitality, and if his enthusiasm was interpreted in another light, then that was all to the good.
Thomas went with him, for he too wished to pay his respects. He was not often invited to dine at the principal houses of the parish, since his father was only a grocer in Ware, and he was eager to display his gratitude.
They had barely emerged from the rectory when they spied Miss Crabtree and her charge emerging from the woods, their arms full of daffodils and primroses.
“What a delightful vision,” Thomas said gallantly, doffing his hat and bowing to the ladies. “Miss Crabtree, you are overladen with blooms. May I assist you?”
“How kind you are, Mr Leadbetter. If we had known how splendid the flowers would be or how many we would be tempted to pick, we should have brought a basket. Perhaps if you can manage these?”
They shuffled the flowers between them, only dropping a few, and set off down the road. James felt he could not be less chivalrous than his curate.
“May I carry some for you, Miss Isabella?”
“No, thank you. I can manage.”
“What are you going to do with all these?” he said as they followed Thomas and Miss Crabtree towards the entrance to the Park’s grounds.
“Put them in vases, of course,” she said, with a touch of scorn in her voice.
“Forgive me, that was a foolish question. They will brighten the house considerably. Spring flowers are so cheerful, I always think, with their vivid colours.”
“Dorothea thinks so, too,” Isabella said. “Yellow is her favourite colour, like the sun. I prefer the autumn. Orange, red, gold, brown — the colours of fire.”
“You call Miss Crabtree by her Christian name?”
“No, I call her Miss Crabtree.”
That was a puzzle. “Then who is Dorothea?”
“She is my friend. Do you have a favourite colour?”
