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James breakfasted with his family at the Manor the next morning, not because he wanted their company especially, but half in hopes that a good night’s sleep might have softened his father’s stance. But there was no sign of it, and the meal proceeded in its usual leisurely way, with nothing much said beyond the customary discussion of everyone’s plans for the day.
“Come into my book room, James,” Sir Owen said, as he rose at the end of the meal.
“Very good, sir.”
Sir Owen’s book room was an ill-situated apartment at the side of the house, given an air of gloom by a large oak tree just outside. The room was too small to house more than a desk and a couple of chairs, but a narrow bookcase squeezed in behind the door was enough to entitle it to its name. The real book room, now designated a study, had been commandeered by Lord Charles for his own use the moment he had married Letitia, and Sir Owen had not liked to throw him out of it on his return to the Manor.
“Now then, James,” Sir Owen said, sitting behind his desk and waving James to the opposite chair, for all the world as if he were an attorney or a bailiff, “tell me about your dinner last night.”
“It was rather good, although there was only one course. The loin of veal was particularly good.”
Sir Owen’s eyebrows rose. “It does not become you to be facetious. Was the girl there?”
“Isabella? She was.”
“And… the friend?”
“She was there too.”
“James, if you make me drag every little detail out of you, I shall be convinced that everything Lady Plummer said is true. Give me a full account of her, if you please.”
“I beg your pardon, Father. Let me tell you all that I can of her. The first impression is good. She is in appearance everything that a girl of fourteen ought to be, well grown and bidding fair to be as pretty and accomplished as her sisters, in time. I assure you, no one would see the least thing amiss with her. But at dinner… Mother was right about that. There was a place set for this friend of hers — Dorothea, she is called.”
“Oh, she has a name, does she?”
“Naturally she has a name. The family makes no fuss about it, and the servants are clearly used to it by now. To be honest, it seems harmless to me, and rather charming.”
“But notnormal, James.”
“Unusual, perhaps, but I would not describe her as a lunatic.”
“You are hardly an impartial observer,” Sir Owen said.
“I hope I would never let my own wishes colour my judgement,” James said stiffly. “But in any event, it is your opinion which matters, not mine.”
“And I must maintain my reservations until I have seen the girl for myself. She has attended church, I dare say, but nothing about her drew my notice. Next time, I shall look out for her. A little conversation with her will put me in a better position to judge.”
“You could go to the Park and ask to see her,” James said. “I am sure Mr and Mrs Fletcher would be pleased to oblige you.”
“That would look too particular,” his father said, frowning through bushy eyebrows. “One does not like to give credence to a rumour such as this by drawing attention to it.”
“Father, the rumour is already circulating,” James said impatiently. “A visit would only be seen as a conscientious attempt to verify or refute it.”
“I shall see her at church,” his father repeated. “I will not be rushed over this, James. Marriage is a matter of decades, so a delay of a few days or weeks is of little consequence. We are talking about the very future of this family, after all, a heavy responsibility which weighs on all of us. I must be certain of the case before reaching a decision. ”
“Very well, sir,” James said, dispiritedly.
But matters were taken out of Sir Owen’s hands almost at once, when Jefford knocked at the door.
“Beg pardon, sir, but there are callers. Mr Fletcher, Miss Isabella Fletcher and a Miss Crabtree.”
“Miss Crabtree?”
“The governess, sir. Mr Fletcher’s regards but he begs the favour of a few minutes of your time, and Lady Plummer’s also.”
“Thank you, Jefford. Where are the visitors now?”
“I showed them into the parlour, sir, where the ladies are sitting.”
