Chapter Thirteen #2
“Ah, there you are!” Aldous, Julian’s father, got to his feet as they approached, prompting those seated with him to do the same. “We were about to send out a search party.”
“We were with Uncle Isaac and Aunt Eleanor. Aunt Eleanor told us where to find you.” Julian gave Annabelle a surreptitious wink.
“Papa, Mama, everyone, may I present Miss Annabelle Fairfax, the young lady I met several weeks ago in London. I had assumed our meeting to be a singular event, but it seems fate has decided otherwise. It turns out Miss Fairfax is currently recuperating a few miles from here following the recent death of her father. Miss Fairfax, this is my father, Captain Aldous Northcott, and my mother, the Honorable Grace Northcott. These two young ladies are my sisters, Miss Evie and Miss Clara, and this young fellow is Master Arthur Northcott, my brother.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Fairfax,” Aldous said, inclining his head. “And please accept our sincere condolences on the loss of your father.”
“Thank you, Captain Northcott,” Annabelle replied. “You’re very kind. I’m honored to meet you all, and perhaps a little overwhelmed as well, in truth.”
To Julian’s surprise and delight, Grace stepped forward and took Annabelle’s hand. “I’m not in the least surprised, my dear, under the circumstances. Come and sit beside me. Would you like a drink? There’s some lemonade left.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Northcott, but no,” Annabelle replied, a sweet blush on her cheeks as she settled onto the cushioned seat of the large lattice settee. “What a remarkable space this is. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It is rather splendid,” Grace replied, glancing about.
“It’s also eternally summer, which is probably why I enjoy it most in the winter, when the weather is miserable and the days short.
Sitting in here at such times lifts the spirits.
How are you finding the countryside, dear?
Have you spent time outside of the city before? ”
“I have, yes, and somewhere up here in the north, though I don’t remember the actual location,” Annabelle replied. “It was many years ago, when I was a child.”
Julian, sensing his father’s scrutiny, exchanged glances with him.
Aldous raised a brow that implied he was equally impressed, and perhaps surprised, by Grace’s sweet response to Annabelle.
Julian responded with a slight shrug and took his seat beside Evie.
Then he watched and listened as his mother’s propensity for easy chit-chat proceeded to put Annabelle at ease.
Within minutes, the tension on her face disappeared, the stiffness in her shoulders softened, and she settled back, obviously relaxed, into the cushions.
Incredulity lifted its head once more. Not in a million years—at least, a few hours ago—could Julian have imagined Annabelle Fairfax would be seated beneath a palm tree in Myddleton’s conservatory, having a conversation with his mother. It truly beggared belief.
Evie leaned in. “Your lady friend is very pretty, Jules,” she muttered, ventriloquist-fashion through a stiff smile.
“Yes, she is,” he replied, quietly. “Why are you smiling like that? Is something wrong with your mouth?”
“You remind me of Jester, my old pony,” Arthur said. “Remember him? When it was close to feeding time, he’d stick his nose over the gate and show his teeth.”
Seated on the other side of Evie, Clara stifled a giggle. “Don’t worry, Evie,” she said. “The luncheon gong is going to sound any minute now.”
“I doubt they’ll have fresh hay on the menu, however,” Julian added, which drew another giggle from Clara.
Evie’s smile dissolved. “I was trying to be discreet,” she said, scowling.
Julian tutted. “Don’t know about discreet, but it was definitely amusing.”
Evie cocked her head, leaned in again, and peered at him through narrowed eyes. “I’m curious, dear brother,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “does this mean the musical Miss Aitken has been set aside?”
Julian gave her a stern look. “That’s enough, Evie.”
A smug smile appeared. “Which means yes,” she replied, sitting back. “Not that it’s a catastrophe, mind you. We’re not overly keen, right, Clara?”
Clara gave a nod. “Right.”
“What are you chittering about over there?” Grace asked. “Not ‘overly keen’ about what?”
Evie opened her mouth, but Julian interrupted. “Nothing of note, Mama. Evie is hungry, apparently, so we’re speculating about what’ll be on the luncheon menu.”
Arthur chuckled, Clara snorted, Evie scowled again, and Grace sighed as she turned back to Annabelle. “I understand you are an only child, Miss Fairfax.”
“I am, yes,” Annabelle replied, giving Julian an amused glance.
“Hmm.” Grace winced. “Then I should probably warn you about my children’s frequently questionable behavior.”
“Indeed,” Aldous added. “Please accept our apologies in advance.”
Annabelle laughed. “I’m sure they won’t be required, Captain. That is—Mr. Northcott—your eldest son speaks very highly of his siblings.”
“He does?” Evie leaned forward. “What does he say about me, Miss Fairfax?”
“Nothing at all,” Julian said. “I never speak of you individually, Evie. You and your sister are, in my opinion, one entity. When and if I voice an observation, it generally applies to both of you.”
“So, what did you tell Miss Fairfax about us, then, Julian?” Clara demanded.
“Hmm.” He frowned. “I believe I told Miss Fairfax the next Season will undoubtedly be one of the most memorable in Northcott history and that London will never be the same.”
Arthur sniggered, while the twins regarded each other for a moment and then looked at Julian. “You did not say that!” they exclaimed, in perfect unison.
There followed laughter all round. “No,” Annabelle said, with a shake of her head, “your brother did not say that. The truth is, he hasn’t told me anything specific about either of you, or any of his siblings for that matter. But I definitely get the impression he cares about you all very much.”
“We quite like him as well.” Clara wrinkled her nose. “Most of the time, anyway.”
Evie snorted and was rewarded with a disapproving glance from Grace.
“You have no close family at all, Miss Fairfax?” Aldous asked.
“None, Captain,” Annabelle replied. “Upon consideration, I suppose I’ve led a sheltered life, but not an unhappy one. My father made sure I had a broad education. As a child, I had an excellent governess, and my maid, Hattie, has been like a mother to me.”
“Do you have a favorite pursuit?” Evie asked. “Do you ride, play the pianoforte, perhaps, or do needlework?”
“Actually, I do recall riding a pony when I was little, though I’m not sure where that was,” she replied, frowning.
“But my answer must be no, I do not ride. I play the pianoforte rather poorly, but I play anyway because I enjoy it. Needlework is not a favorite pastime, but I pick it up on occasion. I enjoy walking and I love to read. I read a lot, and all kinds of books. My father encouraged it, and he had quite an extensive library. Nothing compared to Myddleton’s of course. ”
“You have that in common with our sister, Louisa,” Clara said. “She always has a book in her hands.”
“Your brother mentioned her to me.” Annabelle glanced at Julian. “She and her husband are not here, though, I understand.”
“Louisa is in an interesting condition,” Grace explained, “so she and Maxwell thought it best to remain home.”
“Ah, I see.” Annabelle nodded. “And there is also another brother, I believe.”
“Josiah.” Aldous shifted in his seat. “He’s an artist. Lives in London, prefers it to the country.”
Annabelle’s eyes widened. “An artist. How fascinating. What does he paint?”
Aldous smiled. “Portraits, mostly.”
“Really?” She appeared to ponder a moment. “Are any of them on display here?”
“No. At least, not yet. He specializes in private commissions.” Aldous’s gaze flicked briefly to Julian. “He’s in great demand, apparently.”
Immediately, the image of the duchess arose in Julian’s mind. He suppressed a smile and wondered, vaguely, where Her Grace was. In her room, most likely, given that His Grace had obviously awoken and vacated the library.
The sound of Annabelle’s laughter shifted Julian’s focus back to the present, where he watched and listened as the conversation continued around him.
It wasn’t possible, he thought, a short while later, to love someone you hardly knew.
Someone with whom you’d spent so little time.
It simply wasn’t possible. So, whatever had taken up residence in an empty corner of his heart couldn’t be love.
But perhaps it was the prospect of it, or even the precursor to it.
Watching Annabelle Fairfax with his family for these past twenty minutes had convinced him that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
She was genuinely animated, her cheeks sweetly pink, eyes bright as she listened, hands moving as she chatted.
Not a hint of nerves or shyness remained.
She belonged with them. She belonged with him.
Smiling to himself, his gaze drifted away from Annabelle and met that of his mother.
She responded to his smile with one of her own and gave her head a slight shake.
But it wasn’t a contradictory message. Rather, it implied an understanding of what lay behind Julian’s recent excursion to London, and perhaps an acknowledgment of what now lay in his heart.
At that same moment, as if calling an end to their meeting, the luncheon gong sounded a cacophonous summons.
“Will you be joining us for luncheon, Miss Fairfax?” Grace asked, rising to her feet, with everyone else following suit.
Julian hoped she’d say yes, but expected a refusal, which came instantly.
“It’s exceedingly tempting,” Annabelle replied, “but I really must return to Miss Caldridge. I promised not to leave her alone with her task. It has, however, been an absolute pleasure to meet you all. Thank you so much for your kindness and hospitality.”
Aldous gave a nod. “The pleasure is ours, Miss Fairfax. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
“No doubt,” Grace added, with a quick glance at Julian.
“Indeed.” Julian moved to Annabelle’s side. “If you’ll excuse me, Mama, Papa, I’ll escort Miss Fairfax back to the gallery, or wherever Miss Caldridge happens to be. I won’t be long.”