I’ll Bring You Buttercups. Elizabeth Elgin
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I’m to remember to call your brother Sir Giles?’
‘No. Giles is the younger brother. Robert – the one who grows tea – inherited.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this before, Julia?’
‘Would it have made any difference?’
‘No. And we’re wasting time over trivialities,’ he smiled, taking her hand. ‘We are here, together; I am to meet your family, titled or no, and I look forward to it.’
‘Even though Mama might be a little – aloof?’
‘Even though. I’m very determined when my mind’s made up.’
‘But you’ll go carefully,’ she begged, eyes anxious.
‘Very carefully. I mind how much is at stake.’ He stopped as they rounded the curve in the drive and saw Rowangarth, its windows shining back the morning sun in a sparkle of welcome. ‘That’s where you live?’
‘That’s Rowangarth. It’s higgledy-piggledy and draughty in winter, and sometimes the fires sulk and the windows rattle when the wind blows, but we love it very much.’
‘Aye, I think I’d love it too,’ he said softly. ‘But what was your reason for not telling me about all this?’
‘Because where I live didn’t seem important. And it still isn’t – not if you don’t mind about it, that is.’
‘Of course I don’t, though I can see I’ll have to work even harder if I’m to keep you in the manner you’re born to.’
He smiled gently, not one bit put out, once he’d had time to get his breath back. And didn’t Andrew MacMalcolm thrive on challenges? Even when they’d laughed and told him that doctoring was out of the reach of a miner’s son – all but Aunt Jessie, that was – he had shrugged and carried on. And maybe the folk who lived in the fine house down there were decent enough bodies, in spite of their wealth. He hoped so, for he wanted Julia so much it was like an ache inside him, and he knew he would do anything, agree to any condition they might impose, to keep her.
‘Then why are you frowning so?’
‘Was I? Truth known, I was thinking about my aunt and wondering what she would have made of all that.’ He nodded in the direction of the house. ‘My, but she’d have liked fine to poke around and see how grand folk live. The gentry and their houses always fascinated her. She used to wonder how so few people could take up so many rooms.’
‘Then I’m sorry she isn’t here to see it, though Rowangarth is small compared to Pendenys – that’s Uncle Edward’s house. Now your aunt would really have enjoyed a poke around there.’
‘And what’s so peculiar about this Pendenys?’
‘Wait until you see it. But it’s almost ten and it won’t do to keep Mama waiting.’ She smiled up at him, serious again. ‘And I love you very much. Whatever happens, you’ll remember that, won’t you?’
Mary opened the front door at their approach. She had been warned by Miss Clitherow that her ladyship would be receiving at ten, and ever since Miss Julia left with the carriage half an hour ago, Mary had hovered between the front hall and the kitchen, all the time wondering who the daughter of the house was to bring back with her. Most times the parlourmaid wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but last night she had been excused before dinner was over which meant that her betters wanted to talk privately; and afterwards, when she had taken in the coffee tray, she sensed an atmosphere and wondered what it was she hadn’t been meant to hear – and who had been the cause of it.
She supposed at first it was Mr Elliot, for talk still buzzed about the goings-on in Creesby. Indeed, it had been reasonable to suppose just that – reasonable until this morning, that was, when the carriage had been ordered and gone off with Miss Julia in it and she, Mary, had been told there would be a caller.
‘Miss.’ She bobbed a curtsey, holding out her hand for the visitor’s hat and gloves. ‘Milady’s in the small sitting-room. She said you were to go in.’
Sedately she placed the hat on a table, then, hearing the closing of the sitting-room door, ran like the wind to the kitchens below.
My, but he was handsome! Tall and broad, with lovely eyes; and the smile he’d given her had been fit to charm the birds from the trees.
‘There’s a young man!’ she gasped, flinging open the door. ‘Came back in the carriage!’ William would know. Someone would have to ask William. ‘And he’s gone in with Miss Julia to see her ladyship.’ And Mr Giles there, too, which was unusual to say the least, since Mr Giles was always in the library, nose in a book, by ten in the morning. ‘What’s going on, Mrs Shaw?’
Cook did not know, and said so. She only knew that, before so very much longer, her ladyship might well be ringing for a pot of coffee – and that the kettle stood cold and empty in the hearth.
‘Set the water to boil, Tilda, just in case,’ she murmured, hoping that a summons from above would give Mary the chance to assess the situation in the small sitting-room. ‘And the rest of you get on with your work. ‘Tisn’t for us to bother about what goes on upstairs.’
But tall and good-looking, Mary had said. Had London been the start of it, then? She glanced across at Alice, busy with silver-cleaning, and was met with a look as blank as a high brick wall.
But it was London. Cook was so sure she’d have taken bets on it.
‘Mama.’ Julia cleared her throat nervously and noisily. ‘May I present Doctor Andrew MacMalcolm? Andrew –’ She turned, shaking in every limb, the easy introduction all at once a jumble of words that refused to leave her lips.
‘Lady Sutton,’ Andrew murmured, bowing his head, yet all the time unwilling to take his eyes from the beauty of her face. ‘How kind of you to receive me.’
‘I had little choice, doctor,’ she smiled ruefully. ‘And since my daughter seems tongue-tied, this is Giles, my younger son, who would really rather be in the library, I must warn you.’
Giles held out his hand. Gravely, firmly, Andrew took it.
‘There now,’ Helen Sutton murmured. ‘Please sit down – you too, Julia.’ She indicated the sofa and, gratefully, Julia took her place at Andrew’s side, her mouth dry, fingers clasped nervously in her lap. ‘Tell me about London, doctor, and how you and my daughter met.’
‘In extremely unusual circumstances, I fear. It was lucky I was near when needed. A young lady lay concussed; had tripped and fallen I was told, and I could well believe it when I saw the skirt she was wearing – and I beg your pardon, ma’am, if I make comment on ladies’ fashions about which I know nothing.’
‘I’m inclined to agree with your observations.’ There was unconcealed laughter in the reply. ‘About the skirt, I mean. But my daughter’s bruises are gone now, and I am grateful to you for your attention. And then, doctor?’
‘Then Miss Sutton was generous enough to thank me for my help, and consented to walk in the park with me the following afternoon.’
‘And now, my sister tells us you wish to correspond with her and to meet, which we – I – find hard to understand on so short an acquaintance.’ Giles took up the conversation, wondering if his voice sounded as stern as he meant it to sound, yet all the time admiring the directness of the young man’s gaze and his complete ease of manner. ‘Might it not, perhaps, be –’
‘Sir – I think you have not been fully acquainted with the facts. True, we wish to write to each other and to meet whenever my work allows it. But I want to marry your sister, and would like your permission – and Lady Sutton’s blessing – to that end.
‘And as for so short an acquaintance – that I cannot deny. But in my profession I must make a decision and hold firm to it, often with no time at