by Janet Aylmer
Julia smiled to herself—a new name! Would she be able to remember that?
She could not realise what effect her infectious smile was having on him. He waited, regarding her gravely, admiring her neat figure, the way that her hair curled at the nape of her neck, and her clear grey eyes.
“How long will you be staying in Bath, sir?”
Suddenly, he smiled at her in return. “That depends, I suppose, on the company that I might keep, and what else I might find to do. Are you planning to be here with your aunt for long?”
Julia’s mood rapidly sobered.
“I don’t know. I am anxious for any news that comes about my father from Derbyshire. I am very concerned for his health, and only came to visit Aunt Lucy because he insisted that I should.”
They heard in the distance that the voices in discussion at the front door had ceased, and her aunt came back into the drawing room.
“Please excuse me, Mr. Hatton, for that unfortunate diversion—only a domestic matter. I really do think that my butler could have dealt with it himself. However, now, where were we?”
“I suppose that we were about to discuss how and when you might visit my godmother’s home to choose your gift. You will recall that Morancourt is more than a day’s drive from here. I have kept on her servants at the property, and I should be delighted to offer you hospitality for as long as you might wish to stay.”
“That is most generous of you, sir. I have my own travelling chaise, so I could use that for the journey. But at present I have Julia staying with me, and her friend Emily also. Julia was to return to Derbyshire with her. Do you have a particular date in mind?”
Julia could see that Kit Douglas—no, she should think of him as Mr. Hatton—was considering the options. Before he could speak, her aunt continued.
“Of course, sir, Julia could accompany me if you did not object to that.”
Julia said nothing, but he read her expression accurately.
“Miss Maitland may prefer to continue in Bath. I cannot offer her any comparable social delights at Morancourt, delighted though I would be if she were to visit.”
She was grateful for his thoughtfulness, and amused at the different levels on which his words were being received by her aunt and by herself.
Aunt Lucy, unaware of this, clearly considered that a visit to Dorset would be a pleasant diversion for her niece. She looked to Julia, but could see that for some reason she was not keen to accept the invitation.
“Let me leave you now, ma’am, and I can return when you have considered the matter further. There is no particular urgency, from my point of view, to have a decision now.”
The subject was pursued no longer and, after a few more
minutes of easy conversation, he left.
“What a most agreeable young man, Julia. So cultured and with such a stylish manner—so superior to some of the young men you will have met in Bath. I do appreciate that it was your intention just to visit me here, but a few days away in Dorset might be very pleasant as a change of scene.”
“I came to Bath to visit you, dear aunt, not to endure another long journey and spend my time in a dusty old house with someone I don’t know.”
Her aunt made a face but decided not to argue, and the matter was left until Emily came back from the dressmakers. Then Aunt Lucy told her all about the visit from the Master of Morancourt, how handsome he was, how pleasant, and about the suggested visit.
Emily could see that Julia did not agree with her aunt about travelling to Dorset, but it was not until later, when they were alone, that she asked her friend what the problem was. By this time, Julia had had the opportunity to decide on her reply.
“He was pleasant, certainly, but I don’t want to go down to Dorset when I could be here with you, enjoying the delights of Bath, which is what I came to do.”
“Very well, let us be as gay as we may, for certainly life back in Derbyshire will not be so interesting or as lively when we return there.”
Over the next days, the two young ladies made the most of the social activities available in Bath. They took the waters in the Pump Room and met friends for tea at both the Upper and Lower Assembly Rooms. Accompanied by Aunt Lucy, they attended a concert on the Monday and a dress ball on the Thursday evening, where they met several young gentlemen who had arrived just that week in the city.
One of these, Patrick Jepson, had been introduced to them by the master of ceremonies earlier in the evening, and he came across the room to speak to Aunt Lucy. The tails of his long dress coat fell well below the backs of his knees, and the padding on the shoulders of his coat jacket was so exaggerated that it rivalled the height of his intricately folded neck cloth. He had prominent and unusually shaped ears, and his hair was curled and overdressed in the latest style. The view of this apparition caused Emily to giggle behind her hand and Julia to turn briefly away towards the wall to compose herself.
Mr. Jepson inquired of Emily, “Miss Brandon, do you come from the family living at Cressborough Castle in Derbyshire?”
Julia observed with amusement Emily’s cautious reply, asking the reason for his question.
“Well, in that case I know your brother Dominic, he’s a friend of mine in town.”
He can’t know the family very well, Julia thought.
“Dominic is my cousin, Mr. Jepson, not my brother. How do you know him?”
“We go around together in London with some other fellows, visiting the clubs, playing cards, going to the races—things like that.”
Emily said nothing, but he went on. “Would you do me the honour of the next dance, Miss Brandon?” he said, looking at Aunt Lucy as he did so.
She nodded imperceptibly at Emily, who gave Julia a private smile before she inclined her head briefly to Mr. Jepson and allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor.
“I don’t like that young man,” said Julia.
“No, I agree, but Emily is well able to take care of herself with us nearby.” Then she pointed across the room. “Why look, Julia, there is Mr. Hatton.”
She turned and saw across the room that Kit Douglas—no, she must remember to say Mr. Hatton—was looking towards her with a small smile, and then making his way around the edge of the dancers in the centre of the room to reach them.
“Mrs. Harrison, Miss Maitland, I was beginning to think that there was no really pleasant company here this evening!”
“That is a little harsh, sir.”
“Maybe, ma’am, but you must agree that there are some very gaudy coxcombs on the floor, and some very overdressed young ladies.”
Julia could not conceal an involuntary laugh at her aunt’s expression.
Mr. Hatton himself was wearing a well-cut jacket in the latest fashion, with a neatly tied neck cloth matching his shirt. His long cream pantaloons above the mirror shine of his shoes made him look even taller than he was. His dark hair was properly dressed, but without the extremity of style exhibited by some of the other young blades in the room.
“Miss Maitland, if your aunt will permit it, will you do me the honour of dancing the next?”
Julia did not need to look at Aunt Lucy. “I should be delighted, Mr. Hatton.”
As they stood at the side of the room waiting for the dance to finish in the centre of the floor, Mr. Hatton said, “Have you heard of the continental dance—the waltz—Miss Maitland? I was introduced to it whilst I was in Spain last year.”
“I have heard only,” Julia smiled, “that the dowagers do not approve of it, for I understand that the couples dance very close together and almost in an embrace, and that the older ladies, and some mothers, do not agree with that?”
“Yes, that is true, but I have seen the dance myself, and the waltz is a most graceful spectacle if done well. I took a few lessons whilst I was in Spain and, now that my leg is mending, I should love to try the waltz again.”
“I have heard,” Julia said, “that the dance has been introduced in Almack’s in London. If that is so, pe
rhaps we provincials may be allowed to try it out soon.”
He laughed as he replied, “True, it takes time for those of us who live outside town to learn new habits. But now that I have a ballroom of my own—”
“A ballroom! You must have a very large house in Dorset, sir?”
“No—not very large, but the wife of the gentleman who built the manor at Morancourt was very fond of dancing—so the house has a modest-sized ballroom.”
But then, before they could continue their conversation, it was time for them to take their places for the next dance.
Once they were out of earshot of others, he said, “Miss Maitland, I had been hoping to have the chance to speak with you privately before I visit your aunt’s house again. I know that you have doubts about making the journey to Dorset. I certainly do not wish you to think that I am trying to dictate what you should do.”
His words brought to mind his conversation at Norton Place a few weeks earlier.
“We share that view, sir, I believe.”
“Yes. But I would very much value your opinion if you were to be willing to come with her. The estate at Morancourt has been allowed to run down considerably. My godmother was very wealthy, and money was not a problem. But she did not have the energy in her last years to take any interest in renovating the house or the grounds. But now that I find myself in charge, and able to afford to do as I like, there are many things that I would like to alter. But I have had no experience in taking such a property in hand.”
Julia looked at him blankly, for he must know that she had no such experience either. It must be, therefore, that he sought to have her company, and that her aunt’s visit would be a good excuse for achieving that.
“Aunt Lucy has good taste, so I’m sure that she would be willing to help you.”
He looked at her warily, not sure whether that was intended to be a firm negative.
They continued in the dance for several minutes until the music came to an end.
Then he said, “I should be honest with you, Miss Maitland. I would particularly like you to assist me. It is very important to me that you should.”
As he spoke, they had been walking across the room towards the refreshments, and now they came upon Aunt Lucy and Emily, who were looking for Julia.
Before Julia could answer him, Emily interrupted.
“I had a very odd conversation during the dance with Mr. Jepson, Julia. He said that Dominic has been down here in Bath, and travelling in the West Country and further south near the coast on some kind of business venture. What kind of venture could that be? I don’t recall Freddie saying anything about it.”
“Well, there may be no truth in it or, more likely, Dominic doesn’t tell Freddie everything. Indeed, that may be just as well.”
And she introduced her friend to Mr. Hatton. Mr. Hatton gave a discreet cough. “Perhaps these are private family matters, Miss Brandon. If you will excuse me, I will go and fetch a glass of cordial for Miss Maitland, and some for you and Mrs. Harrison also, if I may.”
When he returned, he handed the glasses of cordial to the ladies, and then addressed Aunt Lucy.
“Mrs. Harrison, you have lived in Bath for many years, I believe? Now that the new canal is open between Bath and Reading, journeys by boat are being offered from the canal junction with the River Avon here in the city to the rear entrance to the Sydney Pleasure Gardens. Would you allow me to escort you and these two young ladies on such an expedition—perhaps later this week?”
“Mr. Hatton, that is most kind. I have been to the Sydney Gardens many times over the years, of course. I am not personally anxious to make a journey on the canal, but I am sure that Julia and Emily would be very delighted to accept your invitation. Is that not so, my dears?”
Emily clapped her hands together with glee, and Julia replied for them both.
“Mr. Hatton, that would an expedition that we could never have the opportunity to enjoy at home. I have not been on a canal, and I have heard a great deal about the Sydney Gardens. We really enjoyed our trip last month to the Vauxhall Gardens with Emily’s cousin.”
“Oh, I did not realise that Lord Brandon had taken you there?” He suddenly appeared very downcast.
“Not Dominic Brandon, we did not meet him in London. It was Freddie, his younger brother, who took time out from his regiment to take us to Vauxhall. That is a very much larger and busier place. I am sure that Sydney Gardens will be very different, but just as enjoyable.”
Mr. Hatton’s mood seemed to lift as quickly as it had fallen, and the arrangements were made for him to call at Aunt Lucy’s house later in the week to walk with them to the beginning of the canal. He continued his conversation with Julia’s aunt for a few more minutes before excusing himself.
Aunt Lucy watched him go, and then turned to Emily.
“I do not know your cousins, but I do think that it might be better if you were more discreet in discussing matters concerning them in front of strangers.”
“Mr. Hatton isn’t really a stranger to you, Mrs. Harrison, and anyway, it’s his own fault if Dominic chooses friends who go round telling anybody and everybody what he is getting up to!”
To prevent an argument developing with her guest, Aunt Lucy changed the subject quickly, and no further private discussion took place that evening.
The boat was full of excited passengers as Mr. Hatton and the young ladies set off on the boat to go through the canal locks at Widcombe. To begin with, they stood together on the stern, but then Emily walked towards the front of the vessel and fell into conversation with a party who was visiting from London.
Julia stood in companionable silence with Mr. Hatton as the horses on the towpath pulled the boat past the rear gardens of tall houses in golden stone on the eastern side of the canal and the view towards Bath Abbey and the centre of the city to the west. As she watched the houses go by, it seemed to Julia that at last there was an opportunity for her to find out what she so much wanted to know.
“Might I ask you a question, Mr. Hatton?”
He turned towards her and nodded, his eyes alert.
“The red shoes—why did you give them to me?”
There was a long pause before he answered her.
“At the time, I hardly knew. It was almost involuntary. And I need not have delivered them in person, of course. But I have had plenty of time since then to think about it, to remember your visit to Norton Place, and you, Miss Maitland.”
There was so much in his green eyes that spoke to her as he continued.
“Only since then have I been able to be honest with myself. I wanted to see your home at Banford Hall and to let you have something very personal to me. I had heard that your parents, perhaps in particular your mother, want you to marry someone quite above my social circle—Lord Brandon, perhaps—and I knew that I might never see you again.”
Her grey eyes looked at him without wavering for a moment.
Then she said, “Men have more freedom than women in such matters, Mr. Hatton, as I have been finding to my cost.”
“True, but I will always be the younger son of a self-made man who made his fortune in trade. The fact that my mother was the daughter of a baronet does not seem to compensate for that.”
“But your father made his fortune by his own efforts—surely many people would say that is praiseworthy?”
“Maybe, but not enough to make me or my brother respectable in the highest circles, removed as we are only one generation from a grandfather who was a small farmer.”
She looked out over the side of the boat, then back to face him.
“I appreciated your gift very much, Mr. Hatton, then and now, and I’m very happy to be able to thank you. I should have done so before. As to the future, so much depends on my father’s health. The doctor has told us that he has serious problems with his heart, and that there is little that can be done. As long as he lives, I should not be forced to marry someone I dislike or despise. But if anything happens to him, my mot
her might have very different priorities.”
“There must be an expert physician here who could help him? Or someone from London? Sir William Knighton treated my godmother successfully in Bath for her heart affliction for several years with a carefully measured dosage of digitalis, made from the leaves of the foxglove plant. He is very well recommended.”
“Bath and London are a long way from Derbyshire, Mr. Hatton. Papa is not well enough to travel any distance, and the cost of taking a doctor to him would be very considerable, even if that could be arranged.”
“Do you have the red shoes with you?”
“No, sir.” She saw his expression change and he turned his head away. Almost without knowing why, she added, “I could not risk losing them.”
The change in his face was wonderful to see as he looked back at Julia, and he was about to reply when Emily returned, saying that they were approaching the lock on the canal. She stood between Mr. Hatton and Julia as they watched with careful attention the raising of the water and the boat in the confined space of the lock up to the next level of the canal.
“You are interested in how things work, Miss Brandon?” he said. “It seems a very elegant solution to moving the boat around the contours of the hill, and that presumably means less work in digging the canal.”
“Julia would be more anxious than I to know the exact details, Mr. Hatton,” said Emily, smiling at her friend.
“Yes. It’s true that I am more interested in how problems can be solved, Mr. Hatton. So was my brother, for he told me that, without change, there can be no progress.”
He laughed. “Yes, that is very true, although not everyone would agree with you, Miss Maitland. And the next change lies ahead of us, for now we can see the Chinese bridge ahead.”
“Was that made of iron in the foundry at Coalbrookdale started by Abraham Darby? My father has told me about the factory there.”