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“Lizzie, no one thought anything of it when it was just my newspaper that disappeared, or Madge’s scissors. The clock was a mistake, I’ll grant you, but she owned up to it at once and apologised. I’d be glad to leave it at that, and forget all about it.”
“I am sure you would, but how will she ever learn if she is to receive no punishment? She will think she can get away with anything.”
“She learns by seeing that her actions have distressed you, and upset the servants too. She will not do anything of the sort again, will you, flower?”
“No, Pa, never, I swear it.”
“There, you see?” Pa said. “Nothing further is needed, surely.”
“Harry Fletcher, you are too soft with them by far,” Mama cried. “Over-indulged and spoilt, that’s what they are. Anyone can see it, but will you listen? You never listen, not even to your own wife! Oh, I can’t bear it!”
And in a most un-Mama-like way, she burst into tears and stormed from the room.
Pa’s eyebrows rose. “Hmm, what’s put her so out of frame? She’s not normally so melodramatic.”
“She was upset earlier when James told her he’d quarrelled with his family,” Julia said. “She seemed to think we’d have no acquaintances in London.”
“Ah. She was rather depending on that connection,” Pa said. “I’ll give her five minutes to calm down and then we’ll have a little talk. And Angie — best keep out of trouble for a while, eh?”
~~~~~
Lightwood had obviously been watching out, for the rectory door opened as soon as James approached it.
“Sir Owen is in the drawing room, sir.”
Was that good news? Probably not. “Ah. Has he been here long?”
“About an hour, sir. I took in a bottle of the best brandy. I thought you would wish it.”
An hour. Definitely not good news. “Thank you, Lightwood, that was well done. An hour, eh? Better face the music, I suppose.”
Sir Owen was standing at the window, glass in hand, gazing out at the wilderness that had once been a lawn. “What happened to the fellow who used to do your garden?”
“Broke his leg about two years ago and went to live with his daughter at Bishop’s Stortford. I suppose I should get someone else.”
Sir Owen turned to face James, his expression serious, but there was nothing to be read into that. He was always serious. “You need a housemaid, too. This rug has not been beaten for some time. You live in some chaos, James, but I expect Miss Fletcher will sort things out in the house.”
“We will sort things out between us,” James said neutrally. “And if not, we shall muddle along tolerably well, no doubt. Have you been offered some cherry cake?”
For the first time, a glimmer of a smile crossed his father’s face. “I have never been fond of cake, as you well know. The brandy is excellent, though. You keep a good cellar, at least.”
James laughed. “Most likely it came from your own cellar. You gave me a great many bottles when I was first ordained, remember? That was probably the last time you were in this house.”
“It is, and that is remiss of me. One of many ways in which I have been remiss as a father. No, no, do not deny it. You are a grown man, and I should not attempt to impose my will on you. I strongly dislike quarrelling with my own son, James, and should very much like to repair the breach. Will you shake my hand?”
“With all my heart, Father! I dislike being at odds with you, too, but I must tell you that I will not change my mind. I intend to marry Julia at any date of her choosing.”
His father nodded. “I understand. You must do what you feel is right, as must we all. I have Lady Plummer’s feelings to take into account, and… James, I cannot openly set myself against her. Marriage, as you will discover for yourself, involves making accommodations. As in war, one must decide when to march into battle and when a tactical retreat is in order, so for her sake I will not make any public acknowledgement of your betrothal. You do not need my approval, so nothing need be said about it. But I wish you great joy of your marriage, and I hope that your first-born will be a means of reconciliation with your mother. Will you take a drink with me? For there is a matter upon which I should welcome your advice.”
James could not be more astonished. His father asking his advice? Wordlessly he replenished his father’s glass and poured brandy for himself, gesturing his father to a chair.
“You said something very profound this morning,” Sir Owen said.
“Did I? It must have been an accident.”
“You speak lightly, but in my view it was profound, yes. You spoke of the heavy burden that Michael has to bear, and it is true that, as the eldest son, the duty falls to him to continue the family line. That much is indisputable.”
“Is it so?” James said thoughtfully. “I would take issue with it, however. With hereditary titles, there are heirs apparent and heirs presumptive, and we see with the King’s own children how little they regard their duty to continue the family line. If Michael falls short in the matter of heirs, then I step forward, and if I too fall short, there is Cousin Sydney and his five younger brothers, and two of them have sons now. Michael is not the only hope for a continuance of the family.”
