All Too Handsome

All Too Handsome

Chapter Six

It was presumably Cassy who had dissuaded her brother from leaving, because when Catherine Graham decided five minutes later that all girls must change partners, nobody left the group. Julia moved on towards Mr. Ainsley. She had no objection to any man in the party, as long as they did not have mysterious intentions. Neville's presumed intentions still gave her pause. She had refused the man. For reasons that were not exactly clear to her at the time, but that did not mean they had changed.

Fortunately Mr. Ainsley seemed to have no intentions other than being an agreeable riding partner. Julia was distracted for a while. She hardly noticed that there was no switch for miles, but Catherine was not keen on changing positions again now that she could talk to Neville and the other girls did not really understand what had gone on.

Harry Thompson had very politely accepted her invitation to look at her family's library, but he had not pursued the subject, nor had he said a word about her ungratefulness. Julia wondered if this meant that he had indeed considered her ungrateful but that he was too polite to say so. It bothered her a little, but she hoped she would soon be able to make up for it by letting him look at maps. She was not naturally ungrateful, but sometimes propriety got in the way.

Neville came by, shouting. "If anybody is tired, we can have a little stop here. There is a charming little field coming up."

The gentlemen were most attentive in helping the ladies down from their horses. Julia stretched her legs. It was indeed a charming little field, but the incessant rain of the last week had made it muddy and wet. There was no place for anybody to sit, unless one of the gentlemen sacrificed a coat. It would not be wearable afterwards and she did not think any of them would risk it. Instead, after some deliberation they cleaned off a stretch of wall with their handkerchiefs, but not all of the six girls could sit there. From a trip with a few ladies for company it had become one where the girls were in the majority.

Julia remained on her feet, as did Hannah and Catherine. They remained in the lane because the field was muddy, but she felt it was possible to walk a little if one paid attention to the ground. After sitting on her horse she would rather walk.

Neville, of course, was concerned. "Mind where you put your feet, Julia. Your shoes."

She did not care, or pretended not to. "Worse has happened to me."

"Oh, indeed!" Richmond exclaimed. "Have you recovered?"

She chuckled. "It has been a few days and moreover there have been a ball and a riding trip in between." Of course she had recovered. She had already visibly recovered by the time of the ball, which had been that same day. His concern was kind, but a little unnecessary by now.

"That is true, but -- and how did your father take it?"

"No different from how he took it in front of you." This reply earned her a frown from Thompson. She wondered if he had not been told about Richmond and Ainsley seeing her in her wet clothes. It appeared not. She did not want to make it look as if she had been telling the other men all about it. She casually walked in his direction, although she kept her eyes on something else. "They saw me go home, but that is all they know."

"Good lord," he said under his breath. "You make it sound as if we were up to all kinds of sinful activities under the bridge." Julia Graham might be the eldest and most womanly of their female companions, but if she could be this silly at her age, there was no hope for womankind. He remembered that she had very seriously refused a man because he was too handsome. That too had been silly.

Julia was glad he said that under his breath. She looked alarmed nevertheless, but that was for another reason. "Were we not?"

"If that is what you think you might be surprised if Nev gets his way."

This was even more alarming, but Julia did not think this was the right moment to ask him if he was speaking the truth and if so, what he meant. She walked on and then turned back, but again without looking at him. This time she would not speak to him either. Men were most vexing. Perhaps it was preferable to become a spinster, but if she became a spinster she could not have any children. She did want children, even if she did not want any of these men.

Julia suddenly had little desire to stay with the group. Her head began to throb and she began to feel decidedly dissatisfied. If she stayed it would only get worse. "I have a headache. I am turning back."

"Alone?" Richmond cried.

"Alone. We are only five miles from home." It was probably more, but the exact distance would not be to her advantage. Not in their opinion.

"What is this?" Neville almost came running when he overheard. "Are you going back? Alone?"

"Alone," Julia repeated. She had to stay firm.

"I will not have it."

Yes, her headache was getting worse. "Pity," she mumbled while thinking of a more polite retort. It was also a pity she was not a very good actress. She had to strike a balance between appearing too unwell to go on and too well to be accompanied. It was difficult. How did other people have their way?

"I will go with you."

"That will not be necessary. You had best stay with your friends. It is not far -- and I am bad company with a headache." She lied there, because she rarely had any headaches, certainly not often enough to have established any sort of effect on her mood.

"I love bad company," Cassy Thompson grinned. "I shall go with you."

Neville did apparently not want to form a threesome, for he ceased his urgings. Julia mounted her horse and Cassy did the same with some help from her brother. They said goodbye to the company and rode off.

"Do you really have a headache?" Cassy asked a little timidly. She remembered that her brother had called Miss Graham too full of herself and while she had never seen any evidence of it, she was on her guard now.

"I might get one."

Cassy ventured a guess at the reason. "Annoying men."

"Indeed."

"He was obviously referring to an incident earlier, but it was not kind of him to do so in company."

"Incident?" Julia wondered what Cassy could have understood. Not much had been said about it. It would have been very obscure to anyone who had not been involved.

"Something from which you had to recover and that your father might be angry about. Something that involved Richmond. You do not have to tell me what it was, but I thought it particularly unkind of him to refer to it in such covert ways, yet making it clear that something had occurred."

"I agree there was little need for mentioning it, but simply because so much time has already passed since then. It was not so very bad. I fell off the bridge and they saw me with my wet clothes. They took me home. My father had no reason to be angry with anybody." Julia hesitated. It could be that Harry Thompson had not told his sister anything about the incident. "Is this all you heard about it?"

"Yes, why? They do sometimes come over to our house, but the rain has been preventing them. I am sure they would have boasted of seeing you wet if they had come," she said a little derisively.

"Is your brother good friends with them?" She was still hesitant. Harry might not have boasted to his sister, but he might have boasted to his friends if he had been given the opportunity. She did not yet know what to think of him. They were friends, after all.

"Tolerably. I have recently begun to think he is a cut above them."

Julia laughed. "Only recently? You are always supposed to think that of your own brother." She did not think that of her own brothers either, but they were younger. An older brother might have been someone she could revere.

"I meant I have recently begun to notice the shortcomings of his friends. I am sure he has some himself, but in the areas I consider important his friends have more. He would never boast of seeing you in wet clothes, I am sure!"

Julia tried to look blank. It was exactly what he had seen -- and more -- but he did indeed appear not to have boasted. "Why did you not stay with the others?"

"Oh, I heard something about a picnic and walking and I thought I should spare myself the aggravation," Cassy said lightly. "I do not always want to hang onto Harry and be in his way. He might want to speak to somebody else for a change."

Julia felt sorry for her, because although the girl spoke lightly, she was not taking it very lightly at all. Walking through fields might indeed become a problem if such an activity were suddenly proposed. She would indeed have to depend on her brother, although he might not mind. "Would he have taken you if you were a burden?"

"We did not know there would be a picnic and walking. I was really excited about being able to go..." she said with a wistful sigh. She could ride like everyone else.

"I saw that."

"It is not that I cannot walk, but I should slow everyone down and I do not like it. Or they would leave me behind and I do not like that either."

Julia made up her mind in an instant. "We shall ride a really long way the other way." That way Cassy and she could both have their ride, without having to fear the company or long walks. It was a perfect plan.

"But you have a headache."

"No, I do not." She smiled. "But we shall tell my family we have gone in another direction, so they will not be worried. Perhaps my other brothers will be allowed to go. You and I cannot be a bad influence on them. I think it was the young men that my father was worried about when he said Edward and Andrew were not allowed to go."

Julia had done as she had said. She had stopped briefly at home to say she was riding out with Cassy. Her youngest brothers had immediately wanted to come when she asked them and they even received permission. They were very proud to be asked as escorts, even if the girls did not think they needed any.

They paused in a nearby village and had some refreshments. Julia thought she enjoyed that more than Neville's undoubtedly splendid picnic, but she did not quite like the way her preferences were developing. It was as if she suddenly rejected everything she had done before, even if she had only gone away from one riding excursion and they had not even had them in the past. She could not say whether she would have liked them two years ago, although it was possible she might have. Perhaps it was simply that she was growing older.

Cassy had expressed her surprise that Julia would rather be out with a few children than with people her own age, but that remark had only amused her. Cassy was not a child and the boys were on the verge of growing up. Besides, she liked children.

"I want six well-behaved children and a comfortable home," she heard herself say.

"And a man," said Edward, the eldest of the two brothers who were with her. "Do not ask me how I know, but I have heard men are indispensable when it comes to having children."

"Unfortunately." That was unfair and she knew it. She was not disposed to hate men at all, but she did not know what else to say.

"You could kill him after the sixth child," said Andrew, the youngest. He thought it was a mighty good joke.

"But by then I should have spent a decade with him already," Julia protested. Perhaps she had been a little optimistic about their growing up. That she wanted her husband killed would now become the same sort of truth as that she wanted an ugly man. The ugly men would soon surface; she was sure of that. She considered mentioning them herself.

Andrew did not fail her. He pulled his best serious face. "Oh, I agree. That is far too much to spend with an ugly man. I suppose it is a choice between the children and the ugly man then."

"Why ugly?" Cassy wondered. "You are not being kind to your sister. She can get better."

"She can, but she does not want to! She does not want a handsome man. She said so herself!"

Julia rolled her eyes. "And I have also said that not handsome does not equal ugly, but is life not amazingly simple at fourteen?"

Chapter Seven

It had been a good day, dry, and when Julia left Cassy at the Thompsons' home, they found that Henry had not yet returned. Her sisters and brother had also not yet come home, but of course Neville's picnic might be a lengthy affair. Julia wondered if they sat on the lawn.

Mr. Graham appeared very satisfied with the long absence of his offspring. It did not often happen that they were all out and by late August he always became a little eager for the schools to start up again. It seemed he never had a moment to himself, certainly not by the end of the holidays, but today they had been good by being away.

"Are you really not worried about the girls?" Julia was worried herself. She had left them alone, when they had only been allowed to go on the condition that she did too, yet she had abandoned them. Her father might think her careless and indifferent, but she really did not think anything would happen. He had not voiced any protests earlier, but one never knew.

"They will be fine. Who knows, too much exposure to Mr. Neville might cure them."

Too much exposure had certainly cured her, she thought, but she knew more of him than Catherine. Or did she? She did not recall ever having spoken of anything very important with him. It had been enough for a rough sketch of his character, but she did not know his essence. He might not have any. Her father did not seem to think so. "What do you think of him?"

"It is a nice enough fellow."

"But..."

"But not very substantial. He had better not marry within the next five years. Certainly not one of my girls."

She bit her lip. If that was so, he might find her information disconcerting. "I have heard that he may propose to me again."

Mr. Graham raised his eyebrows. "Really? Who told you so?"

She was loath to reveal his name -- again -- but she must. It was really a coincidence. "Mr. Thompson."

"Why?"

"I do not know. I refused him."

"No, why did Mr. Thompson -- the younger, I presume, whom you did not refuse, I presume likewise -- tell you? Henry Thompson is a sensible young man, I believe, but that was a strange thing for him to say. I cannot think he is prone to gossiping, considering how little he always tells me."

"Indeed, because I cannot think it is true. As to why, er..." Julia tried to remember it correctly. "Because Mr. Neville wanted to ride next to me and I wondered why. Mr. Thompson gave me his theory as to why. I thought it was highly improbable, although Mr. Neville has increased his attentions and civilities to me and that puzzled me. But why should anybody doubt my refusals?"

"My dear," Mr. Graham began and then paused to clear his throat. "Indeed. You were unequivocally clear about your reasons -- at the time and even more so now."

She looked at him doubtfully, for it sounded rather a lot like mockery. Had she not been clear? Perhaps not. "A refusal is a refusal, whether the reasons are clear or not. I am not even obliged to give any. I find that the clearer one is, the more one is doubted."

"Really?"

"If I say my future husband must have a particular quality I am instantly suspected of wanting everyone with all the qualities I did not name." Julia looked frustrated. It was better to remain vague than to be pinned down on anything in particular.

"That is true -- when you cannot have everyone, but only one."

"It gets worse. I want none." She hoped she did not pout.

"My dear, you sound troubled."

"Indeed, because I do want children and Edward told me I need a man for that."

"Well, your mother did." He observed his eldest, glad that she could still joke. Her stupidity in other instances was a cause for concern, however. She had always been a clever girl, but now she exhibited a complete inability to interpret the behaviour of men. It had worked in her favour so far, but it might not continue to do so -- unless she was absolutely serious when she said she wanted no husband. "Does becoming a spinster sound appealing?"

"It does."

"I am sure you will change your mind about that."

Julia did not say he was wrong. It was too early to tell if he was. At any rate it was not a matter she ought to dwell on when there were so many more things to think about. It would not do. She ought to think of the less fortunate or something.

With no ball to anticipate they had all returned to the business of the day. Her poor, ripped gown had been washed and she examined it closely. It was useless to her now and she knew their servants too well to think they wanted to be seen in anything that was so clearly mended in several places. It could, however, be turned into something small.

Mrs. Kane in the village was amazing with fabric. She could take it to Mrs. Kane and let her turn it into a dress for girls. It was relatively simple day wear and thus it would not look too much out of place on a poor girl. Today was too late to go there, but Julia laid the gown aside so she could take it tomorrow.

"Where did Cassy go?" Hannah wondered when the party broke up.

"Do you miss her only now?" Henry inquired sharply.

"No, no, but I never heard where she went. Where did she and Miss Graham go?"

"They did not say." He supposed they had both gone home. There was not much else they could have done. Why Cassy had volunteered to accompany Miss Graham, he did not know and she had not wanted to tell him. He had shrugged and let her go.

Considering the subsequent activities Neville had suggested, he wondered if his sister had had good foresight or if Neville had come up with more strenuous things to do now that there was nobody who could not follow. In any case it might have been for the best that she had left, although it left him a little sad when he thought of how much she had been looking forward to the outing. It had promised to be something in which she could participate without the usual restraints. He hoped she was not disappointed.

He had enjoyed himself well enough. Things to do were scarce since he had left university. His father was always busy and would not involve him in the business anyhow. If it were not for friends the only things he would do were with Cassy and Hannah, if he did not count his solitary pursuits, in which he had yet to discover a real purpose.

There was equally no purpose in looking at old maps, but again it would give him something to do. He wondered whether Julia Graham would keep her word and how she would arrange for him to come to their library. Such arrangements were easier made and kept among men. He had never wondered then, but now with a girl he did not know what to think.

Of course he could always remind her of it if she forgot, but he might be too proud to beg for access. Or he could ask Mr. Graham. It was his library and not his daughter's. At the Thompsons' house it was the opposite: it was Henry's and not his father's. His father did not have time to read or to buy books. The only books he read were useful ones for his business and even those were few and far between. It was a pity they were not building any sort of collection this way. Henry was a little envious of families who had those.

These musings kept him distracted until they arrived home, although he had been vaguely aware of Hannah blathering in his vicinity. She had been sent to live with them for a while, presumably with the hopes of attracting the interest of her rich cousin. Why his father had consented to this scheme Henry did not understand. Perhaps it was not as apparent to his father, or he felt he had a duty towards his sister.

The rich cousin, however, had absolutely no interest in Hannah. He never had and he never would. It would have been tolerable had Hannah not developed exactly the preference for him that her mother had wanted her to develop. She could have been a friend for Cassy, but she was not much of a friend now. Besides, in his desire to evade her he grew more and more irritated with her, something she probably did not deserve. Perhaps he was mostly irritated with how well that scheme was working on one side.

"Have you been home all this while?" he asked his sister. If she had, he would feel guilty that he had not gone to keep her company. She was all alone. But she did not look disappointed or put out, so it might be all right.

"No, of course not. We simply picked up some other boys and rode in the other direction," she said with a grin.

That must be rather close to the truth than it ought to be. Cassy did not invent stories. Henry looked suspicious. "Other boys?"

"Did you not know there were other boys in the village? I know some think they are the only ones, but really, there are some more."

"Well, as long as you had fun," he decided. He would not be manoeuvred into asking for the names of those boys, which he had no doubt was exactly what she would like -- and then she would laugh at him for being worried because they were very innocent.

"We did, thank you."

"How long have you been back?"

"Less than an hour."

Henry was amazed. "But that means you stayed away for very long. Did you go to the Grahams'?"

Cassy gave herself away. "No, they said goodbye to me here."

"They?"

"Julia and the boys. Did you know she does not want a handsome man?"

He could only admit it. It was not his fault for knowing; it was entirely Julia Graham's fault for divulging it. "It may surprise you, but I did. It does not surprise me that she told you. She seems rather indiscreet about it."

"Indiscreet!" Cassy giggled. "Does one have to be discreet about one's preferences?"

"No, but it is advisable to be discreet about one's stupidity."

She giggled even more. "I am sure her brothers agree with you."

"Ah, were they those boys you were speaking of?" He was glad he had not asked instantly. Those boys could only be young and his asking about them would have been an opportunity to tease him.

"Of course. Very respectable and respectful boys. To me. They laughed at their sister, though. But really, I think I was better off."

"I am glad. I was worried."

"It was magnificent!" Catherine gushed.

"Where have you been?" Mr. Graham inquired. He had been glad they were all out, but now he found himself equally glad they were all back and available for teasing. Perhaps Julia's wish to stay here was not so bad after all, although she was not his favourite object.

This simple question confused Catherine. "I beg your pardon? We went riding. You gave us permission, Papa." She shot Julia a worried look, not yet sure how her sister's departure would have affected the situation. That was something she had not considered at all.

"Where did you ride?" he clarified.

She still looked confused, but now at the fact that he would ask. Was it important? "Oh, here and there. I did not pay attention to it."

"Then what was magnificent?"

"Er..."

"I thought the picnic was magnificent," Frank said. "I am not sure I can eat much of my dinner."

"I wonder what Fanny would think of your stuffing yourself," Alexandra commented. "You could have had no time to entertain her."

"Fanny sounds suspiciously much like a girl." Mr. Graham had of course heard of Fanny before, but he chose to have forgotten. Six children had far too many friends and acquaintances for him to remember all of them, he told himself. "Frank entertaining a girl? Was I wrong to think the danger of this trip was in young men entertaining my daughters? Was it instead my son entertaining a young lady?"

Frank coloured and said nothing.

"Mr. Graham." Mrs. Graham believed that sometimes their offspring deserved a little assistance.

Chapter Eight

Julia did not think she had missed very much by going away, although Catherine had declared she had never been out with a wittier or more entertaining set of people. Julia had not either, because she had been out with remarkably few sets of people, witty or not. The next morning she was content to go out alone again, her torn gown rolled up under her arm. She would take it to Mrs. Kane and ask for it to be made into something else. After that she would run an errand for her mother and go back. Her mother needed help making shirts for the boys. They would soon be back to school and they had outgrown their old shirts.

She walked towards the stepping stones automatically, forgetting that they might still be submerged. When she got to them they were half above the water, but very wet and slippery. She would rather not use the bridge again, because it was untrustworthy and because there were half-naked men working on it. This was very shocking, although rationally she knew that it was hot and the water was wet and nobody else would come here to see them.

But if nobody else came here, how did they know the bridge needed to be fixed? Was it one of the young men who had told them? But Richmond had not spoken as if he was going to do anything about it; he had implied that someone else should. This was quite puzzling.

As she stood debating which other bridge was nearest, one of the half-naked men threw down his tools and approached her. Julia averted her eyes. She knew what he was going to say: that the bridge was impassable, but she knew that already. She had been the cause of it, she supposed.

"Would you like to cross?" the man asked.

He did not sound like a workman, which was surprising, but she did not look at him. "Would you like to dress?"

He let out a laugh. "You can look. I am dressed."

Julia turned. It was Henry Thompson, of course. "Oh, not again!" escaped her, but he had thrown on a shirt between starting in her direction and reaching her. Although it was but a shirt, this was an immense relief. "Thank you for dressing. The majority of our encounters should be with clothes on, I think. I do not think men without clothes at all exciting."

"If you do not think them exciting, you have no need to look away," he reasoned. "You could look upon them in indifference."

She raised her eyebrows. "That makes some odd sense. But keep on the shirt. Why are you working on the bridge?"

"Because you broke it."

"Oh! I did not do it on purpose! But why you?"

"Tell me what else I have to do all day?" he asked a little tersely. "Had you wanted to cross?"

"Yes, but the stones look slippery." She hoped they really were. She would look silly if they were not. It would look as if she had purposely waited here for help -- from half-naked men.

"They are. I simply waded across."

"Oh! I hope you are not suggesting I do the same? I have a delivery and an errand to make and I cannot go into the village all wet."

"No, suppose you met some gentlemen. They would not stop talking of it for the next year at least."

"I do not consider that a particularly gentlemanly thing to do," Julia said haughtily. "To boast of having seen a lady in distress."

"I do not think they would even notice your distress," he said in a sarcastic voice. "Distress is visible in the face and their eyes would be more fixed upon your figure. You are right that they would boast, but it is of rather more indecent things."

She was shocked.

"Get on the first stone," he said, stepping into the water. "And take my hand."

"I am very shocked," Miss Graham said when they had reached the other side of the river. "Did they say indecent things about me?"

"I should not have spoken so thoughtlessly. Of you they only said you had a pleasing figure. I have known young men at university, however, who would have said much more and who did indeed say much more about other girls. And they were titled. It is no guarantee for good behaviour, is it? But I should not bother you with my ideas." He regretted that he had said so much at all. She might think him envious and bitter, and he did not think he was. "I was thinking predominantly of them and not of any gentlemen you know in particular."

"Well, I am glad, because I should have felt very uncomfortable if I saw them next."

"Yes, I have heard you are exemplary." He supposed it was exemplary for young ladies to be so afraid of men who had removed some clothing.

"And you obviously feel that a good girl should not follow my example." She sounded curious.

It was her curiosity that encouraged him. "Being the undressed man in question here, I think not. Shirt or no shirt, how does that change me? How does it put you in any danger at all? A man with designs on you does not undress himself, but you."

Julia Graham gave him a suspicious and doubtful look. "Titled men at university again?"

"Of course." He wondered if she believed that he had no personal experience at all with having designs on girls. It might sound as if he knew too much about it, but it was all hearsay.

"Well, it seems we have the same opinion of such men -- titled, handsome, rich, fashionable -- but you at least are spared the inconvenience of receiving proposals from them left and right." She curtseyed, gathered up her skirts and climbed further onto the river bank.

Henry shook his head as he began to wade back. Proposals left and right! He knew she had received two -- Neville and Richmond -- but that hardly amounted to left and right. A bit full of herself and her attractiveness, was she not? But Neville and Richmond were also not titled, so perhaps there had been more men. And she said they had the same opinion of such men. Evidently, since she had refused them, she must not be too fond of them, but why not?

"Mr. Thompson!" she called.

He had forgotten to correct that. He did not feel the name suited him. Mr. Thompson was his father. "You do not have to call me that. Before I become Mr. Thompson I should like to go through a lengthy phase of being Henry."

"You are very odd. I wanted to discuss the maps. I do not know when you are coming to have a look. I am usually home. Simply ask for me."

Henry wondered if that was normal at the Grahams'. Mr. Graham would certainly enjoy men openly calling on his daughter, he suspected. The man did not seem to mind such unusual happenings. He returned to the bridge and continued working.

Julia realised as she was too far to turn back that she had not discussed her return. The stones had been slippery enough for her not to dare crossing alone, yet all the men might be gone when she came back. Henry Thompson had been very kind in lending a hand -- and getting dressed first -- but making use of him again might border on the improper.

She hurried nonetheless and when she reached the river again the men were still at work. She had wondered why Henry had engaged them so quickly and who was paying for them. Whose land was this? But she supposed the Thompsons had money enough even if it might not be their land. It was kind, though, if it was not.

He had said he had nothing else to do all day. If she thought of it, neither did Frank, but her brother would never dream of handling a hammer. Henry, on the other hand, seemed to think it ordinary, although he had known she would not.

He had not seen her now, assuming she was looking at the right man. Two of them had their backs turned towards her. Only one was facing her direction, but he was not looking at her. She would have to stand here until someone noticed her and notified Henry. In the meanwhile she had looked at them for far too long. Julia turned away with a blush.

It did not take long before someone spoke behind her. "You have a greater choice now."

"I beg your pardon?" Julia half turned to see if it was safe to look. It seemed to be.

"We can take the stones or the bridge, so it is either wet feet or a glimpse of the workmen. They will not dress for you. In fact, were I to suggest it, they would probably think it highly amusing to refuse."

"You could order them if they work for you."

"No," Henry said very determinedly. "I have no reason to do so. The most offensive body parts are covered, you see."

"I have no idea what offensive body parts are, or where," Julia said with a red face. She realised she was talking herself into a corner. If she had no idea, why did she insist on covering them? He had better not be astute, but he probably was. "I find your conversation quite coarse."

"I find you quite a puzzle. You seek out the bridge with the half-naked men on them and yet you insist..."

"I did not -- all right, I did, but the bridge at Sandham is at least two miles away."

"Do remind me when I come to look at your maps to show you that Sandham is no more than half a mile that way."

Julia thought him most annoying. She was not going to wait for him to help her across the stones; she could try it herself if she walked very carefully. The first stone from this side was a little higher than the others and consequently dry. This gave her courage and she stepped onto it. Now she could not turn back. She was too proud to do so. She did not even look to see what Henry was doing, but she heard no splashing.

Her shoes had become wet on the first crossing and the soles had not had a good grip on the stones. She took them off. She also took off her stockings. This was a little difficult, balancing on the stone, but she managed to do it without falling in. Then she tied her stockings around her waist and stuck her shoes and her parcel into this belt. Yes, she probably looked very odd, she thought, but no less odd than a man in shirtsleeves and wet trousers.

She stepped on. Amazingly it went much better on her bare feet and she reached the other side without losing her balance. When she turned around, feeling incredibly smug, Henry Thompson was looking on with his hands on his hips. He raised one to wave at her, but she did not wave back. It would not do to be so familiar.

"What happened to you, Julia?" Mrs. Graham said in dismay. She had opened the window and was leaning out to address her eldest. "Why are you barefoot?"

"Because I took off my shoes and stockings." If she had not stepped on too many small pebbles, she would have said she rather liked walking barefoot. "Here is the package, Mama. I cannot join you immediately; I should like to wash my feet first."

"I hope you did not hurt your feet."

"Not very much."

"I am glad. Go and wash them then. I have been waiting for you. Your hand is steadier than mine." Mrs. Graham retreated into the room.

Julia shook her head. She would have expected more questions, but her parents were surprisingly accepting of everything odd. She might as well have told her mother the entire story. Her mother would probably have offered practical suggestions as to how to cross -- the bridge at Sandham, perhaps, which might not be two miles off. But was she not allowed some exaggeration?

She went to her room to wash her feet. They were very dirty and she was glad she had not been seen by anybody. She looked like a beggar. Miss Graham scampering about like a beggar! Lately she had not been looking very dignified outside. What would men say about her bare feet? If Henry Thompson was right, her wet dress had given rise to comments on her figure. She should have asked him if he was only telling on other people or if he had participated himself. Neither reflected terribly well on his character.

Well, he was too handsome, of course. His character could not be good.

With her shoes and stockings back on, she returned to her mother.

"I wish Edward would not grow so fast," Mrs. Graham sighed as she sorted through piles of white fabric. "He has outgrown all his shirts and though he would happily wear his old ones, I cannot possibly let him. I am glad you are here to hold him still, Julia."

Edward, who was forced to be present, shrugged.

"Hold him still?" As far as she could tell he was very still.

"He does not like to be measured."

"Do not be so silly, Edward," said his sister. "You are no longer a baby. Take off your shirt." As she spoke, she wondered how much of a hypocrite she really was.

Chapter Nine

After having worked on the bridge for three days, Henry Thompson walked to the Grahams' estate. Not to the front gate and drive, for that would be a bit far, but he crossed the bridge and took the path onto which Julia had kept disappearing. He knew the way; in his youth every child in the village had trespassed here sooner or later. The apple orchard of Bellfield Park was renowned for its tasty apples. Everyone had been into the Grahams' orchard, even Henry. He amended that to everyone except Cassy, although she had certainly tasted those apples. Nobody had ever been caught, which at the time had been ascribed to their extreme cleverness, but now he wondered if Mr. Graham had not simply turned a blind eye to children's mischief.

This time he walked across the park with more confidence. He was no longer trespassing. This side of the park was one he had never seen since he had outgrown the age of apple-stealing and he had never noticed the beauty of it. Perhaps this was what a gentleman did all day: maintaining the beauty of his grounds. His father would like him to purchase an estate of this nature and now he was almost persuaded he would like the same. It would be too large, of course. He still did not know what to do with so much land.

Although Julia had said to ask for her, he found it impossible when he was let in. He asked for Mr. Graham. He did not know why he could not bring himself to ask for a girl; perhaps it was the disapproving or curious reaction he expected. Asking for the master of the house inspired no reaction whatsoever and he was taken to Mr. Graham forthwith.

"What can I do for you?" Mr. Graham said amiably.

"Sir. Well. Actually..." Perhaps this was not so different from stealing apples after all. He felt the same apprehension. "I was told to ask for someone else, but I thought that was very strange and not the business of the servant."

Mr. Graham studied him with interest. It was a while before he reacted. "Are you saying you have come to warn me that you have been invited to an illicit rendez-vous with one of my daughters in her bedroom? You did the right thing, young man. It is not the servants' business, but it is mine. Now off you go."

Henry did not instantly know what to say. "Home?" he finally dared to ask. It was possible he was being dismissed before he had stated the purpose of his visit. What a way to punish him for his proper and honest approach!

"No, I meant to your assignation."

"You may have the wrong impression." He was not certain of Mr. Graham's seriousness, but it was best not to joke or it might appear as if he made such visits on other occasions. "I do not have an assignation as such. One of your daughters told me I could have a look at your library."

"In my experience the place matters little. When you were all out riding I had an assignation with Mrs. Graham in the library."

Henry looked embarrassed at such a revelation, even though it was probably a lie. "It matters rather a lot, I should say. I am interested in books. Not in women."

"Especially not pretty women."

"No, sir. You do not even have to call your daughter for me. If you allow me to look at your books I should be very grateful. She said it was all right and she said you have old maps of this area. I am interested in those."

"I could leave you in my library, naturally, but you may not find what you are looking for without my librarian."

Henry was impressed. "Do you have a librarian?" The two bookcases in his father's house would never warrant the same.

Mr. Graham took pity on his visitor. "Let me take you to the library. Why are you interested in old maps, Mr. Thompson?"

"Henry, please, if you do not consider my request very odd. Mr. Thompson is my father. I cannot get used to be addressed like that." He was pleased they were moving. This might end all references to assignations. "I do not know why I should like such an odd thing as old maps, but history and geography interest me."

"It is only considered an odd thing if you associate with odd people. Ask Miss Graham to come to the library," he said to a servant in passing.

"How did you know it was Miss Graham?"

"She is my librarian. I did not know you had spoken of books to her. She only related the improper bits. Tell me about Neville."

Henry had been wrong; moving did not put an end to the questions. He wished he would be left alone in the library, but unfortunately Mr. Graham was determined to quiz him. He supposed he was being asked to shed light on Neville's plans with regard to Julia. "I know only that he said she refused him, but that he would try again."

"Wounded vanity or does he in fact love her?"

"All vanity, I should imagine. But you should not presume that I know very much about it."

"Enough to tell Julia."

"Yes, because she wondered why he wanted to ride beside her and I thought I knew why." Something bothered him. What could be the other improper bits Julia had related? Some could be misconstrued. "You mentioned improper..."

"Bats, Henry. Was there more?"

"Not if she did not say so." He was loath to reveal their last meeting at the bridge, but he had probably just implied there was much more. "Your daughter is extremely proper, sir."

"Which is why I should also have condoned assignations upstairs." Henry's face betrayed that he thought that very negligent of a father, something that amused Mr. Graham. "Not with Mr. Neville, naturally. Would your father not condone it?"

"I have no idea. Firstly, neither my sister nor I have ever tried. And secondly, he is too busy to pay us much attention, so he would not notice."

Julia was not long in coming. She greeted Henry very politely, not at all as if a secret rendez-vous had been prevented. Mr. Graham was rather pleased. "Julia, you will let Henry climb to the upper shelves, will you not?"

"Perhaps. It is not very convenient if he does not know what he is looking for. And Papa, you never cared at all about my safety when I rearranged all the shelves in May." She did not understand it and looked at him with a frown.

"Forget I said anything," he smiled. "I doubt it matters."

Julia decided not to waste any time when her father left the room. She placed the ladder against one of the bookcases and began to climb. "The old books are all at the top because nobody wants them. If you wish you could already look into the drawers under the globe. That is where I put the maps."

"Are you sure you are all right up there?" It looked as if she did not need his help, but he wanted to be certain.

"The ladder will not break."

He shrugged and pulled open the bottom drawer first. Old maps would be in the least convenient place, just like the old books. He was right and he was soon engrossed in examining them. Although he had said he was interested in maps of their area, he found himself looking at others with equal interest. "This is brilliant," he said to himself.

"Brilliant. My ancestor's only achievement was never to have thrown anything away and by that I really mean nothing at all. That cabinet behind you is full of letters and documents. I have not yet sorted through them."

Apparently Henry had forgotten that Julia was still present, because he looked startled. She supposed he had equally well forgotten that there were such things as tables and chairs, because he was sitting on the floor. She had been spinning the globe idly above him for at least ten minutes and he had not once glanced up.

"Even maps of Italy!"

She rested her chin in her hand and looked down. "Yes, we even have newer ones. My father has been. I think those you are looking at now were brought back by my grandfather's grandfather. Or someone like that."

"I want to go to Italy, but I have not yet planned my journey. Perhaps my father will surprise me yet and take me." He laid the Italian maps aside. "I should not be so distracted. I was interested in the history of our neighbourhood, not in that of Italy at the moment. I am sure I do not need to do any difficult research if I wished to know more about Italy. Plenty of people have written about it, whereas none have written about Bellford."

"Well, you could," Julia replied, spinning the globe again.

"What do you mean?"

"You could write about it. Then you could look it up very easily because it would be in a book, not in different maps and documents scattered about in our library."

"Write about it," he repeated. "To whom?"

"To whomever would like to buy such a book. Someone might. I might."

"But one cannot write a book for only two people. There needs to be a market."

"Can you only write about villages that have a market?" Julia was confused.

"No! The market means the people who are going to buy it. You cannot produce something for only a handful of people. You invest a lot of money in the production and you would like to make a profit, which comes from selling your product. Otherwise you are merely giving it away."

"Oh." Julia supposed he knew all about this, having a father in trade. It did not sound so difficult, though, and she wondered why she had not known. "But what is wrong with giving it away? You are rich enough. Do you still need the profit?"

Henry looked up at her reflectively. "Well, not per se, I suppose. And people waste their money on stupider things like the last fashions in furniture. I suppose money should not matter to me."

"Bellford and surroundings are beautiful enough to sell," Julia mused. "Who knows, other people might think it as beautiful as I do. I never want to leave here. I think you could really write some nice things."

"Assuming I could write nicely." He had no idea if he could. It sounded easy, but he suspected it was not.

"Can you not?"

"Can you?" he shot back.

"I could make nice drawings of the beautiful sights. I could also check if your writing is nice, but I have never tried to write anything myself beyond letters."

"I thought they taught all girls to write nicely."

"Politely and in a nice hand, but my hand disappears in print and who wants to read a book that seems to be addressed to my great aunt?"

Henry laughed. "All right. But we need a plan."

When Mr. Graham looked around the dinner table several hours later, he counted only five children and a wife. One was missing and Julia had never been late to anything in her life -- until the last week, that was. "My dear, Mrs. Graham," he said to his spouse. "Has Julia said to you that she would not come to dinner?"

"I have not seen her since midday. I do not suppose she could fall off a bridge twice, so I expect she is fine. "

"Excuse me." Mr. Graham pushed back his chair.

"Why do you not send someone?" cried Mrs. Graham, who had seen that all three of her boys were very hungry. She would never allow them to start without their father.

He would have sent a servant on any other occasion, but in this particular case he really needed to do it himself. He went to the library and opened the door. Julia was there, of course, not lying in a broken heap at the foot of the ladder, nor in a passionate embrace with Henry Thompson on the rug, but sitting upright at the table, writing at a furious pace. Henry Thompson was leafing through a book. Occasionally he said something to Julia, whereupon she paused her writing for an instant.

Mr. Graham watched this all for a few minutes and then proceeded further into the room. They had been as oblivious to his entrance as they had been to the rumbling of their stomachs. "Is everything progressing according to plan?"

Julia was startled. "Oh, you scared me by coming up behind us so stealthily!"

"I did not open the door very stealthily, yet you did not hear that either. You appear to be engrossed in your work, but what sort of work is it?" He tried to peek over his daughter's shoulder, but he could not make out what she had written.

"We are writing a book," she announced very seriously.

"Together?" He looked from one to the other in astonishment.

"Why, yes. We hardly have the same talents."

"Oh." Mr. Graham was nonplussed. They were writing a book together. It sounded simple, but he still did not understand a word of it. "A book. Together."

"I am not sure I could write. Perhaps I should stick to supplying ideas," said Henry.

"Nonsense. I am already doing other work. If you cannot write, you must learn how," said his partner. She was not at all concerned about his abilities. The little he had written so far had all been very decently constructed. Their outline was not meant to be entertaining, but the basics of his writing were good.

"And what would this be, a novel? Hero saves heroine from a bat-infested castle and evil father?" Mr. Graham wondered. He could not imagine them writing such a thing, but he could not imagine them writing anything at all, yet he saw clearly before him that they were truly writing.

"Perhaps we can make that our second book, but this is not a novel. This will be a travel guide." They had not yet decided on the exact amount of history to be contained therein, but perhaps it could be a mixture of both. They had been examining other books of roughly the same nature and they were still working on their outline.

"A travel guide. Julia! You have been to London six times and nowhere else. You never go beyond what you can walk."

"Exactly and thus I know it very well. But Papa, we are far from having decided precisely on the contents. That is what we are still researching."

She gave him such an earnestly enthusiastic, yet absolutely serious look that Mr. Graham felt he must sit down. "And maps?"

"Of course. There must be maps. And drawings of beautiful places."

"It sounds -- " Perhaps he ought to withhold his comments until it was a little more finished. He knew Julia liked to draw non-existent houses, but he supposed she would not include those. "And is this book to be finished before a particular hour tomorrow morning?"

"No, why?"

"Because you are missing dinner."

Chapter Ten

Mrs Graham had let Julia's late arrival pass. She knew better than to ask any questions at dinner, especially considering that her eldest was already under fire from the younger ones for not wanting a handsome man. She had not quite understood this statement herself, but Julia had been very determined about it. There was nothing wrong with handsome men. Their looks had nothing to do with their character, although Mrs Graham would say that next to a good character some attractiveness came in really useful.

Nevertheless, strange things had happened to Julia lately -- falling off a bridge, walking barefoot, missing dinner -- and such things had never happened before. This might all be connected to her sudden dislike of handsome men, but why? "Come and help me," Mrs Graham said after dinner. That would give her the chance to ask questions.

"What were you doing before dinner?" she asked when they had taken their work to a room on the west side of the house.

"Writing a book in the library."

"Writing a book?" Mrs Graham looked astonished. That was something for writers to do, not for her children.

"Yes, a book about this region. I think it will be a very enjoyable pastime."

She would believe that instantly if her daughter said so, but she was always very practical. "My dear, I hope you will not be shutting yourself up in the library all day now. You will come out and talk to people still?"

"Yes, Mama. Besides, I am writing it together with Harry, I mean Henry, Thompson, so I do not lack for company. And I think we may need to take trips around the neighbourhood to have a good look at what we are describing, so we shall be out and getting fresh air and exercise."

"This sounds rather ideal." But Mrs Graham was not completely convinced and her expression and tone betrayed it. "But Henry Thompson is a young man." And Julia would be taking him on trips. Or he would be taking Julia on trips. The neighbourhood might have opinions on that, because it was likely that they would not know about a book if they saw them from afar. He was furthermore a handsome young man, the sort Julia now professed to dislike. This was quite a mystery.

"It would seem so."

"It would seem so? I thought you had got a good look at him. Or so your father told me." She tried to remember whether the dislike of handsome men had come into existence before or after this good look at Henry Thompson. It probably all depended on how much of him she had seen, but Mrs Graham had enough delicacy not to ask directly.

Julia was mortified. "Mama! Papa is lying if he told you that, because it is not true! I looked the other way."

"Never mind. I am sure you saw enough."

"Mama!" Julia was still mortified.

"Fine, I shall say no more about it. Here, cut this while I hold it."

Henry Thompson had no parents who were interested in where he had been. His father rarely dined at home and today was no exception. Cassy and Hannah had been busy learning a piece of music and they had not missed him. Sometimes he was glad Hannah had come to stay with them, although that would undoubtedly change if she displayed too much interest in him again. It almost made him feel a good catch.

Thinking of people who were too full of themselves, perhaps he should revise his opinion of Julia Graham. There had been no indication that she was one of those. Instead she had been perfectly unassuming and he had been surprised by the soundness of her suggestions. She was rather better at writing a book than at dealing with undressed young men. That was not a bad quality, he had to admit, and he expected that their collaboration would be pleasant.

For someone who did not really know what to do with himself it was also very agreeable that he had found something that could keep him busy for weeks or months. He had no idea how long it would take them. Every chapter would take them at least a week and they might have to visit places to see if a description needed to be included. He was very happy with such a project.

He had but one reservation and that was about telling his sister and his cousin. Cassy, who only knew he had gone to look at maps, might have something to say and Hannah would undoubtedly want to come on their research trips. He could not imagine that Hannah would be at all useful.

His father came home just when the girls were showing him how much they had mastered of their new music. Although hearing the same bits over and over again did not really captivate Henry, it was more interesting than being questioned. His father's return put an end to either thing.

Mr Thompson's character puzzled his son. Sometimes Henry thought his father did not care for his children very much, yet at other times he believed that all of his father's hard work had only one aim: to give his children an easy life. It was for them, he supposed, since his father himself hardly took the time to enjoy his wealth. But at the same time his father hardly took an interest in what his children did all day. They might as well be up to no good, Henry sometimes thought in indignation, and his father would never know.

"I spoke to a fellow today who knows about machines that could make our production faster and cheaper," said Mr Thompson. He was evidently very excited by the prospect. "I am going to see him tomorrow to see whether we could implement such innovations."

"Machines?" Henry had never known their businesses could have anything to do with machines, but contrary to his father he was not very interested in finding out how they could be of use. If he was not allowed to do anything, he would prefer not to hear anything either. But this was his father and he was forced to listen and ask a few polite questions.

Cassy slid into his room at bedtime. She had gone upstairs much earlier, but she had been waiting. "So, they had a lot of maps..." she began, finding a comfortable spot in his lazy chair. "Lots and lots of maps."

"Indeed they did." He began to brush his teeth.

"I can wait until you have finished brushing," his sister said with an irritatingly sweet smile. "What did Mr Graham say when you came there to look at maps, of all things?"

He gave her a look and was glad he had his mouth full. It gave him time to decide whether it was politic to tell her or not.

"I can imagine that nobody ever came there with such a request before," Cassy continued.

Henry rinsed his mouth. He could brush for longer, but she would very likely not give up. He did not think the precise nature of a request would matter much to Mr Graham. The man seemed to allow everything, as long as it allowed him some sport. "He would even have granted me access if I had come to see one of his daughters in secret."

Cassy instantly leant forwards in her chair. "Did he think that was why you had come?"

"Cassy dear, I should hardly present myself at the front door and ask for her father, if that were the case. And whose father precisely? Which daughter?"

"I do not know," she said pensively. "It would be a perfect way to win his trust and to do as you please behind his back without him suspecting it. Not, you know, that I advocate such a sly method, or even that I advocate your meeting girls in secret without my approval."

"Must I ask your approval and permission first?"

She looked at him very seriously. "Well, I have been giving your eventual marriage some thought, of course, as I am the one who is to benefit least from it -- not at all, in fact."

"Really?" He had never given that any thought himself, because there had never been any question of him marrying so far. She was right. There were no other brothers or sisters to keep her company if he was gone and as such she might think it a sad prospect. She would be all alone. Hannah might not even remain here if he was gone.

"You would presumably get a house of your own," Cassy explained. "And leave me here. Either you will take me with you, if you could endure it, or I shall visit often, if I could endure it. In both cases your wife will need to be a nice girl. Of course you must ask my opinion before you start having secret meetings with anybody. As a man you probably have no idea that there are girls who have two completely different personalities -- one to display to men and one to display to women -- and you run the risk of falling into a trap."

"And let me guess, we get the nicer one?" It sounded far-fetched to him, but when it came to people Cassy's judgement was usually right. She could be speaking of Hannah, although it sounded worse than Hannah's neglect of Cassy when Henry was near.

"Of course."

"Actually, I know someone who is the complete opposite of that. You get the nicer behaviour and I do not, because I am a man." It might not be true anymore, since he could not recall one instance of strangeness today.

"If she is a nice girl, she will indeed not be nice to you if you try to set up secret meetings with her." She laughed. "We are taught to disapprove of having meetings with young men, if they are secret especially."

"I did not even meet her in secret, but..." Henry glanced at her, not quite sure yet that he was ready to reveal anything. He had to say something, though. "I was working on the bridge, so I was not fully dressed."

Cassy gave him a mocking smile. "Is that logic?"

"It was hot. That is logic. And it was also logic that someone would be working on that bridge after she fell off it." He still did not quite understand why she had come that way if she knew there was a hole in the bridge.

"So the nice girl did not fall off the bridge in shock because you were not fully dressed?"

"Had she been actually on the bridge she might have. I think she was shocked enough."

Cassy did not think so. "Is there anyone around here who would do such a thing without affecting her distress? Is there anyone in the village who could not bear to look at you? I can think of a few who would jump in so you could save them. That is far more likely."

He was horrified to think there might be creatures worse than Hannah, who he was sure would not risk her clothes for him. He was equally horrified to think he might never have noticed them. He might have spoken to them and narrowly escaped having to rescue them from some self-induced predicament. "A few? Who? I have never noticed such a thing."

"I cannot believe you are so obtuse, Harry. Would you like names?"

"I cannot believe you know so much about people's dishonourable motives."

"It is a question of paying close attention, but you must not think all that many people have dishonourable motives."

"And you must not think girls fall off a bridge because I am so ugly." He did not think the sight of him was unbearable. Compared to the carpenter and his apprentice he had certainly looked much better -- if anyone had cared to look long enough for a comparison.

"Oh, that relieves me. Why did Julia fall off?"

Henry was suspicious now, although the conclusion might have been obvious. "I never gave you a name."

"Neither did she, but both of you mentioned falling off a bridge. Was she not the only girl who did?"

"Cassy, go to bed."

"No, no! Why did she fall? She never told me. Did you push her?"

Somehow he could not imagine pushing girls into the water anymore, annoying though they might be, but he could also not imagine Julia Graham inventing such a story. It must be Cassy teasing him. "What did she tell you?"

"Not much, only that Richmond saw her in her wet clothes and took her home."

Richmond would have jumped at the chance to escort a wet girl, he thought. "He would. I was not there when she fell. I merely found her hanging."

"Hanging?"

"Under the bridge." He was pleased to note that this, at least, appeared to be news to her. Nothing else seemed to be. "Did she not tell you that?"

"No, she never even mentioned you." Cassy looked at him with interest.

"Well, I was not on my best behaviour." And neither had she been, which might have come to light if she had said too much about it. She might even have sensed that Cassy was extremely curious and sharp. "But I did not push her."

"Is not having been on your best behaviour not ample reason for anyone else to mention you?"

"Oh, go to bed. I rescued her and then I was treated to lots of silliness. Of course I was not on my best behaviour."

Cassy rolled out of her chair.

In the morning Henry walked to the Grahams' estate again. Cassy had never got to asking him why he had wanted to look at maps or what he had done with them, he had realised smugly. She still did not know why he went now, but she had at least been kind enough not to ask him in front of Hannah. He was not sure why she had not and why he was glad about that. Hannah would not have dared to invite herself to someone else's library.

Mr Graham had said he could come at any time during the day and Henry hoped it was not too eager of him to return already the morning after. He had not asked Julia anything -- her father's interruption had thrown them a little off balance -- and he had no idea how she spent her days. She might be busy. Nevertheless, there was enough to do without Julia as well.

When he was shown into the library, however, Julia was already there. She showed him what she had done. "I have copied our notes and structured them."

Henry gave her an odd look.

"Why do you look as if I ought to be incapable of such a thing?" she wondered.

"Perhaps you were not very logical before yesterday," he mumbled. "But I shall have to revise my opinion."

She smiled. "Thank you. I have to say I revised my opinion as well yesterday."

And she had revised her opinion indeed. He had not once said anything shocking or improper yesterday and she had had to conclude he did not usually speak like that, except perhaps when faced with silly girls. His comment today also pointed to his not being very fond of silly girls, but she could not find fault with that. Silly girls were tiresome.

Catherine burst into the room at precisely that moment, as if she knew silly girls were being thought of. "Oh!" she cried, looking from one to the other.

"Take off your shirt and scare her off," Julia muttered.

"That would scare you off and bring your sister hither," Henry muttered back.

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