him a puzzled look.
He laughed. ‘I swear you did not even consider the prospect of change a husband would bring. Was he a shadowy figure in your mind who would come and live somewhere in Mannerling and not disturb the even tenor of your days?’
This was exactly what Isabella had thought.
‘Did you not think a husband might even mean love, passion, and children to follow?’ he asked.
Isabella coloured up angrily. ‘Shall we talk of something else?’
‘As you will.’ He led her out of the walled garden. ‘Now here,’ he went on, waving a hand towards the shaggy lawns, ‘there is much to be done. As you can see, very few flowers or trees, and I am anxious to see some trees while I am still alive. To that end I have ordered some pretty ones to be transported fully grown and planted here next week. Then I think an ornamental lake over there.’
Isabella recollected that she was supposed to be learning to flirt, but she grew interested in his plans for the gardens and made several suggestions which were so warmly accepted that her enthusiasm grew. He then proposed they should return to join the others for tea and he would show her the plans he had drawn up.
Jessica watched carefully as Isabella and the viscount stood at a desk in the corner of the drawing room, poring over plans. Isabella was not flirting, but in her dealings with the viscount there was an easy friendliness. Jessica thought Isabella must be a very good actress indeed, not realizing that her sister found the viscount pleasant company and in her enthusiasm over his plans for his gardens had forgotten his uncomfortable remarks about marriage and about her dress, although she did remember the latter when she finally joined her sisters for tea.
‘I believe,’ she said to Mrs Kennedy, ‘that you find my style of dress a trifle fussy.’
Mrs Kennedy looked furiously at her nephew. ‘And aren’t we the blabbermouth now,’ she said wrathfully. She turned contritely to Isabella. ‘Faith, my chuck, all I did remark, and it was not meant for your pretty ears, was that your grand London dressmaker used the finest materials but had a poor eye for line.’
Jessica’s cynical eye raked Mrs Kennedy’s squat figure and old-fashioned gown. ‘You’re looking at me, Miss Jessica,’ said Mrs Kennedy, ‘as if wondering what an old body like me can know of style. But I dress now in me old age for comfort. I can still turn out a good line if I put me mind to it. I can see you don’t believe me. Well, I tell you, when you send back the carridge, send that gown back along with it and you’ll never believe the difference.’
Isabella calmly agreed. Everything must be done to keep close to Perival, where she could practise on this viscount.
On the road home, the sisters decided to call at the vicarage to see what news of the new tenant could be gleaned from Mary, but they learned from the vicarage servant that Mr and Miss Stoppard were both at Mannerling.
‘Creeping toads,’ commented Jessica as they drove off. ‘Do you realize, Isabella, that we are going to have to force Papa to go and see this Mr Judd, else we shall perhaps never get an invitation to Mannerling?’
‘I do not think he will be able to even bear to think of that idea,’ said Isabella.
But she was proved wrong. Sir William had learned little from his financial disaster and still had the gambler’s superstitious mind. He had seen two magpies that morning and that surely meant Isabella would marry Mr Judd and reclaim Mannerling, and so Barry was sent to Hedgefield to rent a carriage and Sir William set out the next day.
On his return he said bleakly that they were all expected for tea the next day and then took himself off to his study, emerging to join them for dinner and show them all that he was quite drunk again.
Mrs Kennedy had sent a footman over to collect Isabella’s gown and also a note to say she had caught a summer cold and would not be visiting them for a few days.
He laughed. ‘I swear you did not even consider the prospect of change a husband would bring. Was he a shadowy figure in your mind who would come and live somewhere in Mannerling and not disturb the even tenor of your days?’
This was exactly what Isabella had thought.
‘Did you not think a husband might even mean love, passion, and children to follow?’ he asked.
Isabella coloured up angrily. ‘Shall we talk of something else?’
‘As you will.’ He led her out of the walled garden. ‘Now here,’ he went on, waving a hand towards the shaggy lawns, ‘there is much to be done. As you can see, very few flowers or trees, and I am anxious to see some trees while I am still alive. To that end I have ordered some pretty ones to be transported fully grown and planted here next week. Then I think an ornamental lake over there.’
Isabella recollected that she was supposed to be learning to flirt, but she grew interested in his plans for the gardens and made several suggestions which were so warmly accepted that her enthusiasm grew. He then proposed they should return to join the others for tea and he would show her the plans he had drawn up.
Jessica watched carefully as Isabella and the viscount stood at a desk in the corner of the drawing room, poring over plans. Isabella was not flirting, but in her dealings with the viscount there was an easy friendliness. Jessica thought Isabella must be a very good actress indeed, not realizing that her sister found the viscount pleasant company and in her enthusiasm over his plans for his gardens had forgotten his uncomfortable remarks about marriage and about her dress, although she did remember the latter when she finally joined her sisters for tea.
‘I believe,’ she said to Mrs Kennedy, ‘that you find my style of dress a trifle fussy.’
Mrs Kennedy looked furiously at her nephew. ‘And aren’t we the blabbermouth now,’ she said wrathfully. She turned contritely to Isabella. ‘Faith, my chuck, all I did remark, and it was not meant for your pretty ears, was that your grand London dressmaker used the finest materials but had a poor eye for line.’
Jessica’s cynical eye raked Mrs Kennedy’s squat figure and old-fashioned gown. ‘You’re looking at me, Miss Jessica,’ said Mrs Kennedy, ‘as if wondering what an old body like me can know of style. But I dress now in me old age for comfort. I can still turn out a good line if I put me mind to it. I can see you don’t believe me. Well, I tell you, when you send back the carridge, send that gown back along with it and you’ll never believe the difference.’
Isabella calmly agreed. Everything must be done to keep close to Perival, where she could practise on this viscount.
On the road home, the sisters decided to call at the vicarage to see what news of the new tenant could be gleaned from Mary, but they learned from the vicarage servant that Mr and Miss Stoppard were both at Mannerling.
‘Creeping toads,’ commented Jessica as they drove off. ‘Do you realize, Isabella, that we are going to have to force Papa to go and see this Mr Judd, else we shall perhaps never get an invitation to Mannerling?’
‘I do not think he will be able to even bear to think of that idea,’ said Isabella.
But she was proved wrong. Sir William had learned little from his financial disaster and still had the gambler’s superstitious mind. He had seen two magpies that morning and that surely meant Isabella would marry Mr Judd and reclaim Mannerling, and so Barry was sent to Hedgefield to rent a carriage and Sir William set out the next day.
On his return he said bleakly that they were all expected for tea the next day and then took himself off to his study, emerging to join them for dinner and show them all that he was quite drunk again.
Mrs Kennedy had sent a footman over to collect Isabella’s gown and also a note to say she had caught a summer cold and would not be visiting them for a few days.
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