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“London’s loss is Hertfordshire’s gain, however. I shall hope to enjoy your company very often at the Manor.”
“Do you not go to town yourself, sir?”
“I prefer the quietude of the country, Miss Fletcher. Lady Plummer likes to go, for she is enlivened by the spectacle of theBeau Mondein all its glory. Michael will also go in his eternal quest for a bride. And Lord and Lady Charles will go, of course, for all Charles’s relations will be there. I shall visit them from time to time, but I never spend the whole season in town, not any more. But I shall not be lonely, for Patricia stays with me, to look after the children, and I have my brother, Morgan. And I hope that you and Miss Paton will bear me company, too, and dine with us sometimes.”
“Thank you, that would be lovely. But… what about James? He will be here to bear you company, won’t he?”
“I cannot say what James will do. He can leave the parish in Mr Leadbetter’s capable hands, so some years he goes to town but other years he does not.”
“Is he well?” Julia said impulsively. “I have not seen him for a while, so…”
“He is well enough. You must not worry about him, for what happened is none of your fault. I am very sorry for James’s sake that matters could not be otherwise between you, but no doubt you have your reasons for rejecting him.”
“Marriage terrifies me!” she cried.
“Ah, yes, for a woman it is a daunting undertaking.”
“Exactly so!”
“Every child brings a terrible risk. So many wonderful women are lost in childbed.”
Julia chewed her lip. “No, that’s not it, for such matters are in God’s hands. Short or long, marriage is for my whole life and beyond, and I don’t know how it would change me. I feel that… it would diminish me, somehow. That I would become a pale shadow of myself, subsumed in some societal constraint of wifely duty and unrelenting motherhood. I am not like other women, Sir Owen. I don’t sit and embroider, or paint watercolours of pretty vistas, or dream of the day when I have my own establishment. I’m not elegant or graceful or accomplished. My sisters are all those things, but I’m not and it doesn’t worry me in the slightest. I’mhappyas I am, and I don’t want to change.”
“And no man who truly loved you would ever want you to change,” Sir Owen said at once. “In my view, Miss Fletcher, a contented marriage requires only three things. Firstly, enough money to live upon comfortably, for nothing drags people down more than the dispiriting and endless quest for economy. Secondly, a degree of affection, and I do not mean romantic love, for that can lead one astray into the most improbable of matches.”
Julia laughed, thinking of Camilla and the besotted Richard Osgood. “Very true!”
“Exactly so. But there must be a fondness, or liking. If one is to spend the rest of one’s life with a person, it had better be someone agreeable. And thirdly, there must be consideration for the other, and that must apply equally to both. If one is always giving way to the other, then resentment may build.” He lapsed into silence for a moment, but then he sighed, and continued, “Consideration for the other. With that, the marriage will endure and love will only grow.”
“But how can anyone be sure of that?”
Sir Owen smiled. “No one can besure, Miss Fletcher. Marriage can be unpredictable, just as with any other element of life. How philosophical we are become! I cannot help but feel that this is a conversation you should have with James.”
“Would he want to talk to me? He’s avoiding me, isn’t he?”
“He is feeling a little sorry for himself just now, and shirks all company, not just yours. He spends most of his days up at the hut, but I believe he would be happy to talk to you — to better understand your reasons for refusing him.”
The various chattering groups outside the church now began to break apart, and Sir Owen was claimed by his lady. Julia joined the rest of her family and walked in pensive silence across the road to the gatehouse. There she stopped.
“Pa, Mama, would you mind if I go for a walk?” she said.
“Alone?” Mama said, frowning.
“If you have no objection. I shall not go far, just up the hill to the gate, and then back across the park. Please?”
“Aye, why not?” Pa said. Then, seeing Mama’s concerned face, he added, “The exercise will do her good, love. She’s been brooding too much lately.”
With a quick word of thanks, Julia set off at once before Mama had time to say anything that might change Pa’s mind, for he was very swayed by her views nowadays.
Overnight rain had freshened the air, and Julia breathed deeply as she strode uphill. The track leading towards the gate was edged with cheerful spring greens and yellows, cowslips and bobbing daffodils pushing through the detritus of last year’s fallen leaves. Up and up she climbed, until the gate came into sight. But that was not her destination. Nearer at hand was the familiar ragged hedge that sheltered James’s hiding place.
The cottage was silent and firmly shuttered when Julia arrived, and there was no smoke visible from the chimney, but chinks of light between the slats of the shutters suggested that James was within. She knocked, but when there was no reply, she lifted the latch and went inside.
Only a single candle lit the gloom, flickering in the draught from the door. The fire was out, nothing but a pile of ashes. At first, she could not see James at all, but as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she made out his outline, lying huddled in blankets on the sofa.
“James? May I come in?”
“Of course.” He sounded tired. As he sat up and swung his legs to the floor, unfolding himself from the blankets, she could see that he wore no coat, and his neckcloth was untied, hanging limply from his throat. With his untidy hair and unshaven cheeks, he looked utterly lost. All his usual insouciance had drained out of him, leaving him oddly passive.
