‘Yes, possibly, but it will have to do.’
‘Oh, you disappoint me, Miss Tyler. I hoped you’d assure me that it was a very good likeness.’
‘I don’t flatter people, Colonel Hartley.’
‘I’m sure you don’t. And neither do I.’
He talked for a while of his life in the army and I was able to compare his experiences with Harry’s.
‘How did you meet Harry O’Neill?’ he asked. ‘I thought he was Irish.’
‘So he was. His father was a country doctor in County Clare. There was a large family of boys – all in the army or navy. His only sister married an English doctor and came to live in Whitcombe, our nearest town. After Harry’s father died his mother was invited to live with them. When Harry was wounded at Sabugal and sent home to recover, it was only natural for him to stay at the doctor’s house wherehe could receive medical treatment and be nursed back to health by his mother and sister.’
‘So you met him in Whitcombe?’
‘Yes, in a ball at the Assembly Rooms. He asked me to stand up with him but he wasn’t at all well and nearly collapsed . I helped him to a seat and gave him my smelling salts – the reversal of the faint young lady being assisted by her gallant partner. We laughed about it afterwards. Poor Harry! He was so full of life and he hated being ill but if he hadn’t been wounded I would never have met him.
‘Eventually we were seeing each other nearly every day and became engaged before he rejoined his regiment.’
‘And your brother approved?’
‘Oh yes, he liked Harry very much but he warned me that neither of us had any money and we ought not to marry until our situation improved. He was right, of course, but I still wish we’d gone ahead and married anyway.’
‘At least you’ve the satisfaction of having won the love of a man like Harry O’Neill.’ He paused a moment and then added softly, ‘And I begin to understand why.’
Had I heard right? Had I misunderstood? But he had returned to examining my sketches.
At that point one of the servants rang a bell to summon all the party back to the place designated for our picnic. George already lay stretched out on the grass with a slice of pigeon pie and a glass of wine in front of him. Louisa Thorpe sat beside him under her parasol, very animated and treating him like a child to be fed and pampered. He was enjoying the attention.
Colonel Hartley was about to sit beside me when somehow Frank Lawrence cut in and threw himself down on thegrass. The Colonel quietly withdrew and went to the other end of the group.
‘It’s confounded hot!’ Frank complained, flinging off his hat and revealing the dark curls that so resembled Harry’s. The Colonel’s hair was plentiful enough but a commonplace mouse-brown and of the sort that always looks dishevelled.
‘I envy you ladies in your muslins. You all look so cool. I think we shall have a thunderstorm before we’ve finished. What have you been doing with yourself? I was looking for you.’
‘Sketching and painting.’ I was about to say I’d left my materials in the shade of a certain wall but I stopped myself just in time. He might realise I had overheard an intimate conversation. I glanced round and saw that Colonel Hartley was seated between Elinor and Sophie, with Rowland and the Denbys to the other side and George and Mrs Thorpe next to us.
I found my feelings towards Frank had changed a little since my accidental eavesdropping. I felt rather uneasy and wondered what his relationship with his aunt might be.
‘All on your own?’ He helped himself to a plate of ham. ‘I wish I’d known.’
‘No, Colonel Hartley was with me.’
‘Oh, ’Armless ’Artley – you won’t have any trouble from him.’
It was a coarse remark and a cruel one. I said nothing but did not laugh and he realized, after a few minutes silence, that he had gone too far.
‘I meant no offence,’ he muttered. ‘I’m sure the Colonel’s a very good fellow.’
‘He
‘Oh, you disappoint me, Miss Tyler. I hoped you’d assure me that it was a very good likeness.’
‘I don’t flatter people, Colonel Hartley.’
‘I’m sure you don’t. And neither do I.’
He talked for a while of his life in the army and I was able to compare his experiences with Harry’s.
‘How did you meet Harry O’Neill?’ he asked. ‘I thought he was Irish.’
‘So he was. His father was a country doctor in County Clare. There was a large family of boys – all in the army or navy. His only sister married an English doctor and came to live in Whitcombe, our nearest town. After Harry’s father died his mother was invited to live with them. When Harry was wounded at Sabugal and sent home to recover, it was only natural for him to stay at the doctor’s house wherehe could receive medical treatment and be nursed back to health by his mother and sister.’
‘So you met him in Whitcombe?’
‘Yes, in a ball at the Assembly Rooms. He asked me to stand up with him but he wasn’t at all well and nearly collapsed . I helped him to a seat and gave him my smelling salts – the reversal of the faint young lady being assisted by her gallant partner. We laughed about it afterwards. Poor Harry! He was so full of life and he hated being ill but if he hadn’t been wounded I would never have met him.
‘Eventually we were seeing each other nearly every day and became engaged before he rejoined his regiment.’
‘And your brother approved?’
‘Oh yes, he liked Harry very much but he warned me that neither of us had any money and we ought not to marry until our situation improved. He was right, of course, but I still wish we’d gone ahead and married anyway.’
‘At least you’ve the satisfaction of having won the love of a man like Harry O’Neill.’ He paused a moment and then added softly, ‘And I begin to understand why.’
Had I heard right? Had I misunderstood? But he had returned to examining my sketches.
At that point one of the servants rang a bell to summon all the party back to the place designated for our picnic. George already lay stretched out on the grass with a slice of pigeon pie and a glass of wine in front of him. Louisa Thorpe sat beside him under her parasol, very animated and treating him like a child to be fed and pampered. He was enjoying the attention.
Colonel Hartley was about to sit beside me when somehow Frank Lawrence cut in and threw himself down on thegrass. The Colonel quietly withdrew and went to the other end of the group.
‘It’s confounded hot!’ Frank complained, flinging off his hat and revealing the dark curls that so resembled Harry’s. The Colonel’s hair was plentiful enough but a commonplace mouse-brown and of the sort that always looks dishevelled.
‘I envy you ladies in your muslins. You all look so cool. I think we shall have a thunderstorm before we’ve finished. What have you been doing with yourself? I was looking for you.’
‘Sketching and painting.’ I was about to say I’d left my materials in the shade of a certain wall but I stopped myself just in time. He might realise I had overheard an intimate conversation. I glanced round and saw that Colonel Hartley was seated between Elinor and Sophie, with Rowland and the Denbys to the other side and George and Mrs Thorpe next to us.
I found my feelings towards Frank had changed a little since my accidental eavesdropping. I felt rather uneasy and wondered what his relationship with his aunt might be.
‘All on your own?’ He helped himself to a plate of ham. ‘I wish I’d known.’
‘No, Colonel Hartley was with me.’
‘Oh, ’Armless ’Artley – you won’t have any trouble from him.’
It was a coarse remark and a cruel one. I said nothing but did not laugh and he realized, after a few minutes silence, that he had gone too far.
‘I meant no offence,’ he muttered. ‘I’m sure the Colonel’s a very good fellow.’
‘He
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