The noise of the wheels of the old carriage rumbling along the uneven track almost drowned out the sound of the shoes tapping on the floor.
Almost, but not quite.
“Julia, why do you keep tapping your shoes?”
There was no answer. Her sister was intent on looking out of the window, at the rather grey day, at the bare green fields and the low stone walls that divided them into a green patchwork quilt. Beside her, on the worn leather seat, was the old tapestry bag containing their riding boots, waiting ready for the treat to come.
“Julia,” persisted Sophie, “why are you tapping your shoes?”
Their father stirred from dozing on the seat opposite them and opened his eyes. “What did you say, Sophie?”
“Why is Julia tapping her feet, Papa?”
Lewis Maitland looked down at the worn old red shoes.
She had insisted on wearing them. Perhaps they were familiar, comforting, in a situation he knew that Julia would have preferred to avoid. Her face seemed paler than usual, and she had drawn her hair back from her face this morning in a rather severe style, the golden-brown curls more disciplined than usual above her brown riding skirt and short yellow jacket.
But his eldest daughter had heard his voice and, ignoring her sister, turned her head to look at him. He returned her quiet smile before Julia said, “If you keep being a nuisance, Sophie, Mr. Douglas may not allow you to ride any of his horses.”
Her sister did not look in the least abashed at this remark, but decided that it might not be a good idea to ask the question again.
“Papa, are you warm enough?”
Julia leant across to tuck the rug around him more snugly. His greatcoat had several capes, but it worried her that he was feeling the cold so much nowadays, and he always refused to wear any gloves on his thin hands.
Her father reflected, not for the first time, how very different the two sisters were. His eldest daughter had inherited her mother’s grey eyes, and her determination, certainly, but in most other respects—her calmer personality, her sympathy for other people, her love of books, and her practical and independent mind—she was quite unlike Olivia.
Sophie, on the other hand, was quite irrepressible, ran at everything in life at full tilt, and could be very thoughtless about the needs of others. Harriet, the youngest, was a mixture of the two. But she was almost sixteen now, and it might be that she had changed during her last few months away at school.
Sophie fidgeted on her seat, and Julia said, “I suppose that what you really want to know is how long it will be before we get there?”
“Well, why shouldn’t I? We seem to have been sitting on these uncomfortable seats for ages. Papa, you promised me that the journey would take no more than thirty minutes!”
“It is only twenty minutes since we left home, Sophie.”
She looked rebellious, and twisted her hair in her fingers beneath her chip straw hat.
Their father, anxious to preserve a precarious peace, changed the subject.
“Harry Douglas has several good horses, and he has been very kind in saying that you may ride one, Sophie. Aren’t you looking forward to that?”
“Oh, yes, of course I am, Papa. But I don’t like sitting in the carriage for so long, and it keeps making that really horrible squeaking noise. I hate it!”
Her father turned the conversation back to the ride that she and Julia had been promised later in the afternoon.
“You will see that the stables were built at the same time as the mansion, but the farm buildings are a more recent addition. I believe that they have been constructed by Harry Douglas since his wife died, when young Jack decided that he was more interested in farming, like his grandfather, than in any other occupation.”
Sophie was not interested in buildings—what she wanted was to go out straight away on one of the horses housed in the stables. “Does he ride often?”
“Mr. Douglas?”
“No, his son Jack—he is the person Julia is really going to see, isn’t he?”
Her father looked at Julia, but her head was turned away from him, so he looked back again at Sophie.
He did not answer her directly. “Most people who live on a large estate would need to ride some of the time, but I don’t imagine that Harry Douglas will want to go out today, so I will probably stay in the house with him whilst you and Julia ride with Jack, and maybe his brother.”
“Brother?”
“Yes, there is a younger brother, just back from the war with Napoléon.”
“What’s his name?” said Sophie.
“Christopher—the family call him Kit.”
Julia was getting bored with her younger sister’s conversation. She did not know anything about Kit, but she had already heard that Jack Douglas was very careless of his horses, and a daredevil rider. That was one of the matters that she had decided to put out of her mind when her father had pressed her to agree to the visit. At least Jack should get on well with Sophie, for she was fearless in the saddle, as impetuous as she was in her conversation.
Julia turned to look again out of the carriage window. Most of Derbyshire was a mixture of valleys and steep hills, but this locality seemed to be an endless fl at panorama of fields and walls. However, it was at last giving way to gently rounded slopes and groups of trees close to the road. Perhaps they had not got too much further to go now, and certainly Sophie would probably lose her temper if she had to sit still very much longer.
Soon after, the noise of the wheels on the track began to change from a loud rumble to a more gentle and even sound. As they rounded a bend, tall brownish stone pillars came into view with a lodge in the same local stone on each side, the two houses being linked by an archway over a handsome pair of iron gates. The carriage slowed, then paused, and a man came forward from one of the lodges to let them through.
“Papa, Papa, we’re there at last!”
“Not quite, Sophie. You’ll see in a while.”
Julia soon realised that her father was right, as it took fully another ten minutes for them to reach the house. She could see that Sophie was very impressed by the size of the park, for their father had said little about the Norton Place estate beyond hinting that the family was financially very secure.
Here, the gravelled drive was bordered on each side by low well-kept wooden fences to keep the sheep and deer from straying onto the track.
The only trees visible were in the further distance, on the lower slopes of the hills that formed a natural bowl surrounding the mansion. To one side, a stream widened into a lake close to the house, and then tumbled down a waterfall and away along the valley. On the other, the extensive block of stables built at right angles to the main building enclosed a courtyard where the carriage was brought to a halt at the foot of a long flight of stone steps.
Julia had not expected to be pleased by the appearance of the mansion, but found herself liking the gracious symmetry of the main facade and the tall windows, and the simple but elegant formal garden on each side.
An elderly groom came forward and opened the carriage door so that they could alight. Sophie tumbled down onto the forecourt, and the groom came forward to help Julia and their father descend at a more sedate pace.
“Welcome, welcome, Lewis!” The booming voice came from a stout red-faced gentleman standing between the stone pillars at the top of the wide stone steps by the main doors. He came down the steps to greet them.
“Thank you, Harry. May I introduce my daughters, Julia Maitland—and not forgetting Sophie?” Both the young ladies curtsied to their host.
“Indeed, you are both very welcome. I wish that we had such fine young ladies living in this house.”
Julia found his rather effusive style of speaking rather disconcerting, but Sophie was delighted. After all, she was eighteen years old now, but was always chafing at her more junior status in the family. Only the fact that Harriet was two years younger made her feel like the grown-up young lady she felt she had now become.
“Do you want the bag with you, Miss?”
They both turned, and the groom gestured towards the tapestry bag still resting on the seat of the carriage. Before Julia could reply, Sophie pushed forward and took it. Clutching the handle, Sophie started to walk up the steps.
“Sophie!” She stopped as Julia checked her. “Wait for Mr. Douglas to conduct us.”
Their host laughed. “I like to see a young lady with spirit.” And to the coachman he said, “Please take the carriage round to the stables.”
Then Mr. Douglas took their father’s arm and they walked up the steps with the two sisters following behind.
As she passed through the front door, the butler took the tapestry bag from Sophie and put it on a chair with a velvet seat. She was about to protest but thought better of it when she saw Julia’s expression.
Sensing her urgency, Mr. Douglas said, “I don’t know where Jack is, but he can’t be far away. Reuben, go and tell him that Miss Maitland and Miss Sophie have arrived. He’s probably somewhere in the farm buildings.”
The groom hurried away, and their father followed Harry Douglas through the doorway.
Inside, a handsome wooden staircase with a graceful balustrade curved away towards the rear of the hall and then split into two parts to reach the first floor. Beyond stone pillars on each side, panelled doors could be seen leading to several spacious reception rooms, and straight ahead the park outside was visible through several tall windows. Large paintings hung on the walls above more velvet chairs, and a large Turkish carpet occupied the centre of the floor. Mama would be impressed by all this, Julia thought.
The soles of her shoes echoed on the wooden floor as they were led along a wide corridor to the left, passing a large formal dining room, and they were about to enter the main salon at the end when Julia caught sight of a library on the right side of the corridor. Mr. Douglas paused and spoke to someone within.
“Kit, here are Lewis Maitland and his two daughters.” And he led the way into the room. The library was large and lined with tall bookshelves on every side, which were full of volumes from floor to ceiling.
Sitting at a table on the far side of the room was a young man with dark hair who looked up as they came in. He laid down his pen on a list that he had been writing and, rising from his seat, came forward to meet them, limping slightly. His clear green eyes met Julia’s grey ones as their host made the introductions.
“Mr. Lewis Maitland, Miss Maitland, Miss Sophie, this is my son Kit Douglas,” and to his son, he continued, “Miss Maitland, I am told, is very fond of books.”
Turning to Julia, he added, “Is that not so?”
“Yes, sir—what a well-stocked library! Perhaps I might be allowed to have a look at some of the books later on? It’s true, I am fond of reading.”
“But of course,” said Mr. Douglas, looking at his son who, after a slight pause, said, “Miss Maitland, would you like to look at the list of our latest acquisitions now?”
“Oh, I should love to do that. Would you excuse me, Mr. Douglas, for a short while?”
“But of course, my dear. I rarely look at a book, being much more of a practical man myself. The library here was created by my wife, who brought some of the books from her family’s home. And our son Kit here has continued her interest.”
Behind them, Sophie fidgeted at the delay. Noticing this, her host said to Julia, “Lewis and I will take your sister into the drawing room for some light refreshments before you both go riding.”
And he led his other guests out through the panelled double doors towards the corridor, leaving Julia with Kit Douglas.
“Miss Maitland, if you will come to the table, you can look at my list of books and choose some volumes to see.”
Julia crossed the room and sat down on a chair that he had pulled forward next to him. There were several sheets of paper filled with neat writing, which he explained listed the titles and authors of a pile of books on the far side of the table.
“These are some volumes that I purchased on the Continent, before I came home. Which ones will you choose?”
Kit Douglas handed the sheets to her and she looked through them quickly. Then she pointed at three books on the list.
“You have unusual tastes in literature, Miss Maitland.”
She looked at him rather warily, and then caught a hint of humour in his expression, so she said, “My father has always encouraged me to read widely. You consider that inappropriate for a young lady?”
This time he smiled quite broadly. “If I had any sisters, Miss Maitland, I’m sure that they should have access to the same range of volumes as I do.”
He chose the books that she had indicated from the pile and handed them to her. “I purchased two of these whilst I was in Spain, for my regiment was quartered in an old town where there was a very interesting bookshop.”
“Oh, have you been to the Peninsula? Did you meet my brother David there?”
“No, I did not have that pleasure. My father said that he was in the same regiment as the Brandon brothers.”
His manner seemed to her to be rather serious, but that was more to Julia’s liking than the brasher style of many young men.
“You, too, like books very much? Are these all from the Continent?”
“Yes, all those here on the side table—but we have many others on the shelves, as you can see.”
Julia looked quickly through two of the books, conscious of being scrutinised with a clear gaze. When she came to the last volume, the smallest one, she opened it carefully, and then cried out with delight. For it was a Book of Hours, bound in pale brown leather and beautifully illustrated with pictures in many colours highlighted with gold leaf, and with the text written in Latin on cream-colored calfskin.
“So you like La Passerelle?” he said.
“Oh yes, very much. Is that the French title?”
He took the book and opened it towards the end of the volume.
“Not the title—perhaps you would call it a nickname. If you look at this picture, can you see that there is a bridge, reaching across to the next world? See how the artist has coloured the details of the bridge very carefully, using extra detail in gold leaf as it reaches towards heaven?”
“Oh, of course—bridge, gangway—that is la passerelle in French!”
“Yes, exactly right. I came across the book by chance, and I had to buy it.”
She smiled at him. “I can quite understand why.”
He hesitated, and then said, “I purchased it as a gift, but I was unable to deliver the book to the person for whom it was intended.”
There was something in his manner that prevented her from asking more. In any case, it was none of her business.
He coughed politely, and Julia remembered where she was.
“Perhaps we should join the others in the salon now, Miss Maitland. Otherwise, you may not have time for any refreshments before our ride. I hope that you will allow me to accompany you and your sister?”
She inclined her head without speaking, and followed him along the corridor to where her father was sitting with Mr. Douglas and Sophie in the salon, eating some small cakes with a glass of cordial.
“Please excuse the delay, Mr. Douglas, it was entirely my fault,” said Julia, as she sat down to join them.
“Not at all, my dear, I am pleased that you enjoyed yourself,” said her host.
Before they could make any more conversation, there was a commotion at the other end of the corridor, and a thick-set young man of middle height, wearing riding boots and carrying a whip in his hand, came rushing into the room, followed by the groom.
He came up to Sophie, who was sitting next to Mr. Douglas, and said, “I’m here now, Father. Are you Miss Maitland? I hope that you are ready?”
“Jack!” exclaimed his father, but Sophie, unabashed, said, “No, I am Sophie Maitland. That is my elder sister, Julia, over there, with your brother.”
Harry Douglas interrupted them. “Here you are at last, Jack! Introduce yourself properly to our guests, for goodness’ sake. You should have been at the front door some twenty minutes ago to greet them.”
Julia was surprised at his impatience, for she had persuaded herself in advance of the visit that Jack, as the elder son, would be his father’s favourite. But the tone of voice Harry Douglas had just employed was very much more demanding than that he had used a few minutes earlier to his younger son.
Jack Douglas had his father’s broad frame and red face, his loud voice and his rather rough way of speaking. His style of dress was untidy, his fair hair unruly, and his hands large. By comparison, his younger brother was nearly a head taller, and his clothes, though not in the very latest fashion, were neat and well kept, his complexion tanned by the sun, and his wavy dark hair carefully combed.
Sophie was not going to be deterred much longer from her purpose. “Papa, Papa, may I go and put on my boots now—please let me—then we can go riding? Please!”
Sensing the inevitable, her father smiled wearily at Julia, and he and Sophie left the room with Jack Douglas. His brother, Kit, excused himself and went after them with the groom, leaving Julia in the library with his father.
Before she could follow, Mr. Douglas said in a quieter voice, “Miss Maitland? Your father, Lewis, how is he? I had heard that his heart had been troubling him again. He looks rather worn. That concerns me very much.”
“It’s true that he is still not well, sir, and he worries so about the future for all of us, now that the estate will go to our cousin after him.”
Julia might have hesitated, but his kind manner encouraged her to continue. “It is very kind of you to try to help by introducing me to Jack, though it seems that I may need to compete with Sophie for his attention!”
“Jack is twenty-seven years old now but, unless he acquires more gentlemanly manners, he may never be what I had hoped. My sons are very different and it is Kit who takes after my late wife. She was always quietly considerate of others.”
As he spoke, he looked up at the portrait hanging on the wall of a tall dark-haired woman who bore a strong resemblance to his younger son.
“As the owner of Norton Place, I have a local living here where I control the choice of the new curate, but Kit was never interested in entering the church, so I encouraged him to join the regiment, and he did very well. I had purchased him a commission in the Hussars, and then he was off to Spain. But all too soon he was wounded in an engagement with the French and, before he came home, my wife died suddenly.”
Mr. Douglas paused and blew his nose loudly on a large spotted handkerchief.
“Your family’s loss in the next battle was much greater than ours, but both young men were unlucky, for in each case the army had won a great victory—celebrated, of course, by those officers and men who survived.”
“You are right, sir, for Dominic Brandon returned with the sad news of my brother’s death in the war with Napoléon.”
“Yes. But for your father, for that to be followed so soon by his losses because of the bank failing in Derby, it was such bad timing.” And he patted her shoulder in a fatherly way.
It is very odd, Julia thought. She had been so prepared to be wary of this man, and yet she now found that they were quite in sympathy with each other. Perhaps the common bond was her father and their affection for him, or maybe it was that she just felt confident that Harry Douglas was not pretentious but genuine, and keen to act in her best interests.
A quiet voice from the doorway intervened. Kit Douglas had returned and was standing watching them both.
“Father, we must go now to catch up with Jack and Miss Sophie, or they will leave on the ride without us. I fear that Jack might lead Miss Maitland’s sister on a dangerous route without thinking of the consequences.”
Turning towards Julia with a slow smile, he added, “Your sister seems to be a determined young lady.”
“Perhaps you really mean headstrong?”
“I did not choose to put it that way, for fear of being rebuked.”
“I must remember to be careful what words I use in your company, Mr. Douglas.”
“I rather believe, Kit,” said his father, laughing, “that you might have met your match at last in this young lady.”
“Perhaps, sir,” said his son, “but we really must go now before they leave for the ride.” He added, “Your sister asked me to tell you, Miss Maitland, that she has taken the tapestry bag and will leave it in the carriage, but your own riding boots await you in the hall.”
Escorted by Kit Douglas to the hall, Julia took off her red shoes, gave them to the butler, and laced up her boots. By the time they had reached the stables, Jack Douglas and Sophie were already mounted. Her sister’s pretty bay was just the right size for a girl of middle height and, to Julia’s relief, did not seem to be too skittish. Jack had a fine chestnut stallion, which was already pawing the ground with impatience to be off.
The stable lad was holding the reins of two more horses, and Reuben helped Julia to mount and settle comfortably side saddle on a grey roan. Kit Douglas was soon astride his large stallion, and the four young people rode out of the stable yard. On their way, they passed the steps to the main entrance of the house, where Harry Douglas and Julia’s father were standing by the front door to wave them on their way.
“I suggest that we take the route up the valley, Jack, and then once we have emerged from the trees, go along the ridge where there will be a pleasant view over the park. I am sure that the young ladies would enjoy seeing that panorama.”
“I suppose that we could go that way, Kit,” said his brother, “but it would be much more fun, once we reach the higher ground, if we take the longer route across the fields and down the valley on the far side. There are some good jumps over the low stone walls there.”
Julia could see that his brother did not favour this idea, but Sophie exclaimed, “Oh, yes please, Mr. Douglas, I do enjoy jumping!”
Before either Julia or Jack’s brother could protest, their companions set off at a fast trot up the slope, and only paused to wait for them once they had reached the very top of the hill. Julia rode behind with Kit Douglas at a more steady pace but, just as they were going to reach the others, Jack turned his mount to the left and Sophie followed him, cantering along and then out of sight over the ridge.
“You don’t like that route, Mr. Douglas?”
“No, Miss Maitland. The walls are not as low as my brother suggests. Is your sister a safe rider in a tight situation? If not, she could come to grief. I suggest that we ride a little further this way, and then we shall have a good view of them as they reach the jump over the first wall.”
They rode as Kit Douglas had suggested, and paused at a viewpoint overlooking the further valley. Quite soon, Jack and his companion came into view, and Julia could see that they were heading for a stout stone wall at the far side of a large field. Kit Douglas was right, the wall was quite high, and Sophie was riding a small mare. However, that did not deter her.
Julia held her breath and almost closed her eyes in concentration as the moment came for Sophie’s mount to jump the wall.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she said, “she’s over safely.”
“Yes—she did very well. But my brother did not. Look to the right, can you see—his mount refused and he was tangled in the reins as he fell.”
“Oh, I do apologise. I had quite forgotten about your brother. Is he hurt?”
“Probably not, but he will not be pleased that your young sister has shown him up. Perhaps one day he will learn not to show off. My father will be delighted that your sister had such success compared to Jack!”
He turned in the saddle as he spoke and caught her surprised expression.
“I can see that you disapprove?”
“I would not speak of my father like that,” said Julia slowly.
“But it’s true. Am I being harsh? Perhaps so—Jack usually does what he wants to, whether it is sensible or not. He will not help our father manage the rest of the estate. I would love to do that, but I am not the elder son. That is one reason why I went off to make my career in Spain, as an officer in Wellington’s army, but this wretched wound will probably prevent me from continuing that career—and anyway, now my father really wants me to stay in England.”
Julia was still annoyed with him, but she tried not to show it.
“Why would your father be delighted that Jack fell?” said Julia.
“Have you noticed, Miss Maitland, that when two people are quite alike in some ways, they sometimes take pleasure in each other’s misfortunes? That is how it is with my father and Jack, and I suppose it always will be. My father would have preferred to have had a daughter like you.”
“Like me? I don’t believe that he knows very much about me.”
“He already has a very good opinion of you, gained from your father. He knows how much Mr. Maitland depends on you since the loss of your brother.”
Julia was quite taken aback to find that tears came so quickly to her eyes at the mention of David’s death, and even more upset to realise that her companion had noticed.
He now spoke in quite a different tone of voice. “Please forgive me, Miss Maitland, I do apologise for mentioning a subject so painful to you. I never met your brother, but I heard an account of the battle, passed on by your father from Freddie Brandon.”
“It was not Freddie, but Dominic, the elder brother,” Julia said quietly. “I know Freddie quite well, as he is the same age as his cousin Emily, who is a great friend of mine. She has lived with their family since her parents died. We are visiting the castle next week, although I don’t know if Emily will be there.”
“So that will not be the reason for your visit?”
“No, but my mother insists that we go. She is too easily impressed by people with titles, and she is very determined that I should be.”
“We at least seem to have one thing in common then, Miss Maitland.”
“What is that?”
“That we are both getting rather tired of other people trying to take control of our lives. I would guess, from the way you put it, that you are not anxious to marry the son of an earl?”
“Freddie is good fun, but of course he is the younger brother, and not the person that my mama has in mind for me.” Then she remembered where she was, and why. “Should we not find out how your brother and Sophie are getting on down there?”
“Yes—you are quite right. If you will follow me, we can take another way from theirs, which is just as picturesque but not so likely to bring us to harm.” And he suddenly gave her a warm smile, which made her feel rather breathless.
Perhaps fortunately, at that moment they came around a bluff and then had a better view of the two riders. Riding steadily down the slope, she followed her companion until they reached the stone wall where Jack Douglas was still untangling himself from the reins and muttering under his breath.
Sophie had turned her own mount on the far side of the wall, and was riding back towards Jack Douglas as Julia asked him how he was.
“I’m all right, Miss Maitland, just a bit winded,” he said with more than a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “Your sister is a brave rider, and especially so on such a small mare.”
He remounted his horse rather painfully, and they all continued together. Julia noticed that, from then on, he did not try so hard to impress Sophie with his riding prowess.
The rest of the outing was uneventful, and after about two hours they returned to the stables where Reuben the groom awaited them with a message from their host. A light collation was ready in the dining room, where Mr. Douglas and Mr. Maitland were anxious to start their meal without delay.
“Well, Miss Sophie,” said her host, “have you enjoyed your ride, and meeting Jack and Kit?”
“Oh, yes, thank you so much, Mr. Douglas.”
“And you, Miss Maitland? Have you enjoyed your visit?”
Julia acknowledged that she had had a very pleasant afternoon.
“Your father was telling me that you have been reading books about the improvements to farming practice being introduced by Mr. Coke in Norfolk? I had been hoping that Jack would travel to Holkham Hall for the same reason.”
“I’m not interested,” Jack said. “We are doing well enough the way we are running the farm now.”
His father looked displeased. “Jack is not keen on anything new. You don’t see it that way, Miss Maitland?”
“No, sir, for the changes to the farm that our manager has made since he went there, to learn about the best crop strains and changes to the types of stock that we should use, have made quite a difference to the income from our estate land.”
“That is an unusual interest,” interjected Kit Douglas.
Julia jibbed at this. “You mean for a young lady, Mr. Douglas?”
She could see from the amused expression in his eyes that she had scored a hit.
But his father answered for her. “Lewis tells me that Miss Maitland is doing her best to help him in her brother’s place.”
Kit looked chagrined. “I do apologise, Miss Maitland—please forgive me, for a moment I had forgotten your very sad circumstances.”
“Perhaps you would not have me read books on that particular subject?” Julia said to him, with a wicked smile.
He acknowledged his error. “Touché, Miss Maitland! Are you going to confound me with my own remarks earlier this afternoon?”
“Although we shall not be able to stay on at Banford Hall after my father’s cousin inherits the estate.”
He nodded in understanding.
“You could say that I am wasting my time.”
“I doubt very much if you ever waste your time, Miss Maitland.”
Julia’s father smiled at this, but suggested that they should be on their way home soon.
“I do hope that you will both come again,” Mr. Douglas said, looking at his elder son. But Jack was too busy enjoying his plate of cakes and said nothing.
The journey back home was full of cheerful chatter between the sisters, whilst their father listened with approval. It was only when they entered the house that Julia suddenly remembered that she had left her old red shoes behind at the mansion.