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“Hmm, let me see… I like green, I think. All the shades of green, from the bright green of the first shoots of spring, through the deeper greens of summer, the delicate shades of the willow tree… oh, and that silvery green on the underside of leaves, or the dark green of pine needles.”
She smiled. “Yes. Those are all lovely. Miss Crabtree and I are to paint these yellow flowers, but I can add lots of leaves around the edge of the paper, in different shades of green. That will look very pretty, I think. Dorothea will like it.”
They had crossed the bridge over the lake by this point, and Isabella and Miss Crabtree, accompanied by a surprisingly willing Thomas, turned off for the kitchen wing and the gardeners’ room, where the vases were kept. James continued up the drive to the front door, where a footman opened the door to him within moments of his knock.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Enoch, is it not? Is Mrs Fletcher at home?”
“Yes, sir. Mr and Mrs Fletcher are in the parlour.”
From somewhere above came the shrieks of girlish glee. “The young ladies are at home, too, I surmise,” James said, wondering if Julia were one of the shriekers.
Enoch pursed his lips in a manner so like Lady Plummer that James almost laughed.
After relieving him of his greatcoat, hat and gloves, Enoch led him to the parlour door. “Mr James Plummer, madam,” he intoned, as James passed into the room.
Julia was there! James could not suppress the smile of delight on his face, even though he immediately berated himself for such unsubtle behaviour. But then, why should he not let her see his pleasure in her company? It would do his cause no harm at all, and might induce her to look on him more favourably. But good manners dictated that he not rush across the room to her at once. He made his bows to Mrs Fletcher, and to Mr Fletcher too, not forgetting Miss Paton, and made a pretty enough speech thanking them for their hospitality.
Mrs Fletcher smiled invitingly, and gestured to the seat next to her. “We so enjoyed your company, but I fear it was rather a long evening. I do hope Lady Plummer is not too exhausted today.”
“I have not seen Mother this morning,” James said.
“Oh, of course. But on the journey home… she was not too tired?”
Since she had spent the short journey berating the Fletchers comprehensively for their food, their dress, their manners and even their management of the servants they had inherited, without so much as a pause for breath, James was able to answer with perfect truthfulness, “No, she was not in the least tired.”
“And your father? Lord and Lady Charles? Miss Plummer?”
“All in their usual spirits, Mrs Fletcher, so far as I could tell.” She nodded, waiting expectantly, so he went on, “My father said it was a splendid evening, and he particularly enjoyed the Miss Fletchers’ musical performances. He especially mentioned Miss Angela — he said that she sings like an angel.”
“How very gratifying,” Mrs Fletcher said. “I shall be sure to tell her so, for Sir Owen must have heard some most superior performers, and therefore his opinion is especially valuable.”
Another burst of girlish laughter from above prompted James to say, “Where is Miss Angela today? And Miss Fletcher, and Miss Weston, also. They are quite well, I trust?”
For some reason, Mrs Fletcher blushed. “Oh, perfectly, perfectly, but Julia is here, you see.”
A little burst of pleasure shot through him. There was his excuse, neatly wrapped in ribbons with a bow on the top. “So she is. I shall just go and pay my respects.”
Mrs Fletcher nodded approvingly, and although Miss Paton glowered at him every step of the way, he crossed the room to the seat by the window where Julia was sewing.
And she smiled up at him. It was working! He was making progress with her.
16: Stairs And Attics
Julia watched James approach. She had no desire for his attentions as a lover, but she would have to be made of stone not to be flattered by his obvious pleasure at seeing her.
“Miss Fletcher.”
“Mr Plummer.”
“I am come to enquire if you are quite well, and took no chill after standing beside the open door as we were leaving.”
She burst out laughing. “What fustian! You are come over here to find out why Angie and Rosie are rushing about squealing. You must have heard them.”
He laughed too. “Curses! I am found out! But do tell, for I am afire with curiosity.” Lowering his voice, he added, “And your mama seems disinclined to enlighten me.”
“We have discovered a secret stair that connects the library to the basement, the schoolroom and the attic. Angie and Rosie have spent hours creeping up and down as quiet as mice, and then leaping out. Their first victims were Bella and Miss Crabtree, who screamed in the most satisfactory manner. However, Miss Crabtree decided that one such disruption was sufficient excitement for one day, and she took Bella off for a walk. Bella was somewhat disgruntled not to be permitted to participate.”
