by Janet Aylmer
“Yes, as well as the second and wider iron bridge beyond. And can you see the entrance to Sydney Gardens coming into sight between them, on the left?”
Once disembarked at the Gardens, the three young people followed the other groups of visitors around the gravel walk. Music was being provided by the Pandean Band—several exotically dressed musicians playing pan pipes together with percussion instruments, making sounds the likes of which Emily and Julia had never heard before.
On the other side of the path, there was a sign advertising the new Cascade, with water making a tinkling noise, and appearing to rush down a village street.
“That is powered by clockwork and, if you look closely, the ‘water’ is really moving bits of tin plate.”
“You are very knowledgeable, sir,” said Emily, impressed.
“Perhaps, Mr. Hatton, you might have read about it in this week’s edition of the Bath Chronicle,” said Julia, laughing at their host, and he had to acknowledge that she was right.
“It is very difficult to gain much personal credit with either of you ladies around, Miss Brandon! But let me divert you, for I understand that there is to be a balloon ascent in a few minutes at the other end of the Gardens.”
Julia and Emily walked across the gravel with Mr. Hatton, watching with amazement as the aeronaut lit the fire under the canopy and his passenger looked on as the assistants released the ropes securing the basket below to the ground. Then the balloon rose steadily above the upturned faces of the crowd as the fire roared, and it was blown southwards away from them above the city. Afterwards, they walked back together towards Pulteney Bridge and the centre of Bath, enjoying the view in each direction after they had crossed the river.
Aunt Lucy was highly entertained by their account of these events at the breakfast table on the next day, but refused to promise that she would take a canal trip herself, although they assured her that she would not feel seasick.
Over the next few days, Emily continued to encourage Julia to accept Mr. Hatton’s invitation to accompany her aunt.
“You have never been to Dorset, and I am told that it is very beautiful and quite different from Derbyshire. Why don’t you go? Your aunt would be delighted to have your company. I won’t be able to stay here much longer now that I need to go back to London, as I have had a letter to say that my aunt and uncle will be arriving at their town house soon.”
Julia promised to think carefully about what she should do. In fact, she realised now, she knew exactly what she wanted and, for once, she could not think of any reason why she should make a different decision.
The day came when the Master of Morancourt kept his appointment to visit Aunt Lucy. She had not pressed Julia any further, and so it was with some curiosity that she waited to hear what her niece’s reply would be.
Mr. Hatton repeated what he had said to Julia in private in the Assembly Rooms, that he would value her opinion on what he should do at Morancourt.
“Very well, sir, since you are so very persuasive, and Aunt Lucy has made it clear that she would like to have my company during her visit. My only proviso must be that, if I have any message about my father’s health, I might need to cut short my stay to return to Derbyshire.”
Aunt Lucy was delighted at this news, and smiled at Emily, who was sitting quietly in a chair on the other side of the room.
Julia was more interested in Mr. Hatton’s reaction, but that was only confirmed as he left. He took her hand in farewell and, as he did so, he whispered, “I shall be so delighted to have your company, Miss Maitland. Thank you.”
He was escorted from the room by her aunt and, as soon as they had left, Emily said, “Bravo, Julia, well done. I haven’t dared say so before, but he is quite the most agreeable young man that we have met during our stay here. But how will you return home, Julia, if you do not travel with me?”
“Aunt Lucy has said that she will take me home to Derbyshire herself. It is some time since she visited my parents, and so she has very kindly said that she will bring forward her next visit to the north.”
Julia could have added that she suspected Aunt Lucy of some curiosity to meet the heir to an earldom that Julia’s mama had in mind as a suitor for her niece, although they had had very little discussion about it.
However, her friend then changed the subject to quite a different matter.
“Do you remember, Julia, when we met Mr. Hatton at the Assembly Rooms, that I told you about my conversation with Mr. Jepson. But I didn’t tell you about everything that was said.”
Julia looked at her curiously.
“He said that Dominic is very short of money. That is despite the very generous allowance I know he gets every month from my uncle and aunt. If that’s the case, he must be spending a very great deal on Christina, or other young women, or on gaming, or must have very large debts of some other kind.”
“Well, Emily, that’s not unusual for young men of quality—they seem to think that it’s fashionable to waste as much money as they can in as short a time as possible.”
“Maybe, but why would he make a journey down to this part of the country, and what kind of venture would he get involved in? As far as I know, he has no business experience of any kind. After he left Oxford, he served for two years in the regiment, but he has done nothing else that I’m aware of.”
“Well, all we can hope for is that most of his friends are more sensible, and less stupidly dressed, than Mr. Jepson, not to mention those unusual ears.”
“I do wish that I thought you were right, Julia.”
That evening as she fell asleep, she thought to herself what a difficult situation she would find herself in if she agreed to marry Dominic Brandon. However keen Mama might be on the match, Julia didn’t want to believe that she would insist that her daughter’s future should be in the hands of someone who seemed likely to be unfaithful, profligate, and, by the sound of it, not very good at anything except spending money.
The next day Julia wrote to her parents to advise them of the change of plan, saying that Mr. Hatton, as the new owner of Morancourt, was going to be their host for several days. She doubted whether either Papa or Mama would be worried about the idea, but Aunt Lucy had advised her that they ought to know of it. Only a few days now remained before they were planning to go to Dorset.
“Mr. Hatton has told me that he is leaving for Morancourt tomorrow, Julia. I have invited him to dine with us tonight, I hope that you don’t object.”
“No, of course not, Aunt. And it will be a pleasant way of saying good-bye to Emily, too.”
The two young ladies asked that Aunt Lucy’s dresser, Martha Fisher, should help them both with their toilette for the evening. She was a local girl who had been working in the house for several years as a maid before Aunt Lucy had decided to promote her to a more responsible position, looking after her mistress and her clothes.
“If you please, Miss Julia,” Martha said, “my mistress suggested that you might like to borrow her sapphire necklace to go with your new dress? And for Miss Emily, there are several other jewels that you might like to choose from.”
“How very generous of Mrs. Harrison, and thank you, Martha. Perhaps you could bring the box to me so that I can choose something to go with the grey dress that I brought with me from the castle.”
It took the two young ladies nearly an hour to complete their toilette and all the details, but Aunt Lucy’s pleasure in their appearance when they arrived in the drawing room made it all worthwhile.
Mr. Hatton arrived at the appointed time, looking immaculate in his evening dress, and bearing a small gift for his hostess that was beautifully wrapped in silver coloured paper tied with a red ribbon.
“You are very generous, sir. Please take a seat. We shall be dining in about half an hour. In the meantime, perhaps you would be kind enough to tell us all a little more about Morancourt, for neither of the young ladies has been there.”
“Well, ma’am, I am a biased observer, but I will do my b
est. The house itself is looking tired and much in need of redecoration and new furnishings. You may remember that it is neither too small nor too large but, towards the end of her life, my godmother only lived in two rooms on the ground floor because of her heart condition. Her servants cared for her very well, in particular the housekeeper, Mrs. Jones. Her husband has been looking after the grounds around the house for my godmother, but had been given no instructions to do anything apart from keeping the grass cut with the help of the gardeners. Mr. Whitaker is a younger man who has been in charge of the farm stock and the rest of the land, which is generally in good condition, although there is a need for investment in new buildings.”
“How much land is there, Mr. Hatton?” asked Emily.
“About five hundred acres, Miss Brandon, plus the park immediately around the house, which has an area of about forty acres. Mrs. Harrison will remember that the manor house is about five miles from the sea, on one side of the Marshwood Vale, which is a very attractive rural area between Lyme Regis and Dorchester. I believe that you have not been in Dorset yourself, Miss Brandon?”
“No, although I am beginning to wish that I may have the opportunity sometime in the future.”
“I think you said, Mr. Hatton,” said Julia, “that your godmother was a widow with no children?”
“Yes, her husband, Henry, was given the house many years ago by an uncle who had been one of a large family. You can see that, in some of the bedrooms, the children’s toys are still stored in cupboards, as though they might come back at any time. When I visited the house with my mother as a child I used to play with some of them.”
Aunt Lucy was obviously charmed by this idea, but at that moment the butler entered the drawing room to announce that dinner was served. The rest of the evening passed with pleasant conversation before their guest took his leave.
The following day was Wednesday, the last day that the young ladies would have together before Emily had to leave for London. The Brandon’s carriage arrived early in the morning from town with Annette Labonne, the Countess’s maid. After luncheon, she was to pack Emily’s clothes for the journey back to London the next day.
Julia and Emily went out in the sunshine and spent most of the morning shopping in Milsom Street, where they paused at Mollands’ pastry shop for a few minutes to take tea and cakes. They were seated at a table inside the window, watching the crowds pass by, when Emily suddenly exclaimed to her friend, “Look, Julia, isn’t that Dominic on the other side of the road?”
They both peered through the glass and, between the various people passing by, saw that it was indeed Dominic Brandon, talking to Mr. Jepson.
“I wonder if Mr. Jepson will tell him that I’m here?” Emily leant back in her chair. “I don’t really want to know what Dominic is up to.”
“Nor I. We will not make ourselves known to him, for I am sure that I do not want to meet Dominic myself,” said Julia.
At that moment, they were amazed to see Annette Labonne approaching the two gentlemen along the pavement and, when they met, Dominic and his friend were clearly not surprised to see her. For several minutes, the three were engaged in deep conversation, oblivious to their surroundings and the two young ladies watching from the shop across the street.
At last Dominic and Mr. Jepson doffed their hats to Annette, and she walked quickly away in the direction of Aunt Lucy’s house. Emily and Julia looked on as the two young men then turned away and proceeded together down the road towards the Abbey.
“How extraordinary,” said Julia at last. “What can they have been discussing?”
“I have no idea, but I won’t say anything about it to her at present, or to the Countess when I see her in town. But nor will I forget, for Dominic and Mr. Jepson were not surprised to see Annette and must have arranged to meet her there. Something very odd is going on.”
“Well, Mr. Jepson was right about your cousin Dominic visiting the city. When Freddie is next on leave, Emily, try to speak to him about it. And please don’t tell my aunt anything.”
“Of course not.”
“I hope that I don’t see Dominic again whilst I’m here. I really do not want to think about anything to do with Derbyshire whilst I’m here in Bath.”
As soon as she had spoken, Julia realised that there was an exception to that. Mr. Hatton might not have been part of her life in Derbyshire, but Kit Douglas certainly had been.
Six
The next day, the friends said an emotional farewell to each other and promised to meet again as soon as Julia had returned to Derbyshire. Emily had a large number of new purchases to accommodate in the outside box at the back of the Brandon family’s carriage, as well as inside next to Annette Labonne, and she also took with her some gifts that Julia had purchased for her younger sisters.
At her aunt’s suggestion, Julia rested after luncheon before they set to work to pack their trunks for their journey.
Aunt Lucy spent the next two hours choosing and then changing the clothes that they would take with them to Dorset. “We may not find ourselves in fine company, Julia, but it is possible that we should be invited to some social events whilst we are staying with Mr. Hatton. So make sure, my dear, that you have at least two of your best dresses with you. I will send Martha now to help you, so that we are ready to leave in the morning soon after breakfast. She can do my trunk after yours.”
The weather proved to be rather grey as they left Bath the next day. It had rained during the night, and the carriage wheels kept slipping on the cobbled surface as the horses pulled the carriage towards the bridge over the River Avon. Julia gazed wide-eyed at the poorly dressed people at this end of the city, for she had heard that it was the rougher part of town, and Aunt Lucy had warned her not to venture there on her own.
“You see what I meant, Julia?”
She did indeed, although to assume that everyone who was rather poorly dressed must be unpleasant or threatening seemed to Julia to be going rather too far.
“Have you ever come to this end of Bath, Martha?” asked Julia.
“Yes, Miss, but never on my own, and only during the day time. I would not risk it at night, for I have heard some terrible tales of robbery.”
“And worse,” said Aunt Lucy.
The locality did not seem much improved on the other side of the river, as the carriage passed by the mean houses huddled together along the street, and was pulled by the horses up the Holloway Hill on the far side of the city.
However, once beyond the edge of Bath, the dilapidated yellow stone houses gave way to open green fields as they made their way along the Wells Road and on through pleasant countryside and then down the slope into Norton Radstock. There they stopped to rest the horses for a few minutes at the coaching inn.
Whilst they waited, Martha ventured to say that her elder brother Jem had worked in the town.
“What does he do?” asked Julia.
“He is a coal miner, Miss. There has been mining in the area in Somerset, especially around Radstock, for a long time. Those strange pointed hills that you can see over there are not natural; they are made from the coal waste.”
Julia was surprised, for she had not realised that there was any mining in Somerset. She looked at the conical shapes with interest, for she was familiar with coal mining near Derby, for fluorspar for decorative objects and iron smelting on the Brandons’ land near Cressborough Castle, and in the lead mines on other estates nearby in Derbyshire.
“Is your brother working here now, Martha?”
“No, Miss, he has got a new job with some of the other men. They are busy down by the coast. But I don’t know exactly where. He only comes back home every month or so. But my mother says that he’s getting good money.”
Aunt Lucy looked at her maid with surprise, then at Julia, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. But she didn’t say anything until they stopped for the night at an inn near Yeovil, and she came into Julia’s bedchamber to make sure that she was comfortable for the night.
“Martha must have got that wrong, Julia, about her brother, I mean, for I don’t know of any mining taking place down near the coast. She’s a nice girl, but not always very bright.”
Sometimes her aunt could be rather dogmatic, thought Julia, just like Mama. Martha seemed to her to be as bright as anyone in her aunt’s employment.
The following morning, the weather seemed better and the carriage made good progress past Yeovil and towards Halstock. The colour of the local stone in the buildings now was tinged with brown amongst the yellow, and most of the roofs were thatched, although many were in a state of disrepair. The tumbled green fields were so small that Julia thought that they must be quite difficult to farm, but the wild hedgerows seemed to be full of singing birds as they passed by, with some of the branches almost meeting across the narrow lanes above the top of the carriage.
Julia had brought a book with her for the journey, but trying to read as the carriage shook from side to side on the rough surface was almost impossible. Aunt Lucy dozed fitfully opposite her. Martha gripped the seat rather tightly with her hands, and just managed to smile at Julia.
“I was interested in what you mentioned yesterday about your brother, Martha. Did you say he was down here, mining near the coast?”
“I didn’t say mining, Miss, for I don’t know exactly what Jem’s doing. Only that he and some of his mates were offered work with very good pay at the end of last year, and he’s been down there ever since. I haven’t seen him on any of my days off since then.”
“Do you have any other family, Martha?”
“Yes, Miss. My widowed mother still lives in Radstock with the younger children, but my elder sister is married. She and her husband have a cottage in a village near Gloucester, to the northwest near the River Severn. And one of my younger brothers is working in a woollen mill, and he lives with an aunt in Trowbridge, a few miles to the east of Bath.”
The carriage stopped to rest the horses for a few minutes at the Fox Inn, hidden in the green valley at Corscombe, before making its way up the narrow lane beyond to reach the crossroads with the main route from the county town of Dorchester at the top of the hill. Once safely across, they continued for about a mile across Beaminster Down. Then the coachman asked them to alight and walk behind the carriage for the next mile to lighten the load, as he held back the horses and drove with great care down the long steep slope. At the foot of the hill, they took their seats again and the carriage continued on a little further before they reached the centre of the small stone-built town of Beaminster. There, the carriage paused opposite the stone cross that indicated the location for the market. All around the centre of the little town square, honey-coloured hamstone houses with thatched roofs and shop fronts at ground-floor level were crowded together side by side with several inns, and all was bustle and activity in the market as the local people went about their business.
