I’ll Bring You Buttercups

‘Then I’ll be back, I shouldn’t wonder, to help out at the wedding.’ Ellen undressed without embarrassment, she and Mary having shared this very room in the old days.

‘Wouldn’t be at all surprised. But I’ll just fill your basin, then you can get washed and changed. And you can use my scented soap, Ellen, and my talcum powder.’

‘Oooh, thanks, love.’ Since she had married, such things were a luxury; though she knew that a parlourmaid, when serving at table and reaching and passing, must never, ever give offence. ‘I’m grateful.’

And oh, wasn’t it going to be just like old times again tonight, and wouldn’t it be grand having five shillings of her own to spend exactly as she pleased?

She plunged her hands into the basin of cold rainwater, made a violet-scented lather on top of it, and sighed with pure pleasure.

‘Are you decent, or in disarray?’ Julia entered Andrew’s bedroom without embarrassment. ‘I’m here to see if you need any help. Sorry we haven’t a valet to help you dress.’

‘Help me dress? Good grief, woman,’ he gasped, ‘I’ve been dressing myself since I was out of napkins, though I’d like fine for you to see to this tie – I’ve made a bit of a mess of it.’

‘Yes, you have, my darling. But don’t worry. Mama always tied Pa’s for him, and Giles is worse at it than you. You’ve got the studs in all right, I see.’ She glanced with approval at the shirt front, sparkling with diamonds.

‘That much I could manage. Don’t they look grand. Are they real?’

‘They are, so you’re very honoured. Mother bought them for Pa as a silver wedding gift and oh, Andrew, you won’t do anything careless and get yourself killed like he did when we’ve only been married twenty-six years, will you?’

‘I won’t. I promise to grow old with you.’ He cupped her upturned face in his hands. ‘I couldn’t bear to leave you, either. And now will you see to this tie, then help me pin on the rose you sent up for me, though I’d heard that in London fashion it’s usually a carnation a man wears.’

‘London is London; here, we wear what we like, and your lady chose a white rosebud, so –’ She gave a final pull to the bow tie, then reached on tiptoe to place her lips gently against his own. ‘There now, doctor,’ she murmured. ‘You’ll be the handsomest man at table and Mrs Mounteagle will faint at your feet. And you’ll remember, when you see her,’ she rushed on, ‘to thank Hawthorn for sponging and pressing your things so beautifully? She’s so pleased you’ve been asked tonight.’

‘I’ll make a special point of it. You care for Hawthorn, don’t you?’ He reached for the smallness of her waist, drawing her closer.

‘Yes, I do.’ She took a step away from his disturbing nearness. ‘She’s fun and she understands about you and me because she’s in love, too. She’s also my friend.’

‘Even though she must call you miss, or Miss Julia, and curtsey to you? Even though you call her Hawthorn, and never Alice?’ he quizzed, eyebrows raised.

‘Even though. It’s the way it is and Hawthorn would be embarrassed to have it differently. It doesn’t change the way she and I trust each other, and anyway, no one here expects to be curtseyed to. This isn’t Pendenys. But let me have another look at you.’ She smiled tenderly, eyes large with love.

‘Will I do, ma’am, in my fine feathers?’

‘You’ll do.’ Dear sweet heaven, but he was good to look at. ‘Tell me, darling,’ she murmured, trying to sound flippant and failing dismally. ‘Why are you twenty-seven, almost, and still unmarried? Because I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay single for so long. Hasn’t there been anyone …?’

‘There has not. I’m a bachelor still, because one thing I’m sure about is that two can’t live as cheaply as one, and because –’ he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose – ‘because you and that hefty constable took so long getting down to fisticuffs in Hyde Park. Heaven help me – there I was, walking in the park day after day. What took you so long?’

‘Darling!’ She slipped her hands beneath his coat, hugging him to her, closing her eyes tightly as happy little tears misted her eyes. ‘I do love you. How will I bear it when you leave me?’

‘Me, too – about loving you so, I mean, and dreading Sunday coming. And I know we aren’t engaged and shouldn’t buy presents for each other, but –’ He dipped into his pocket and brought out a small box. ‘It’s only a bauble, sweetheart, and secondhand into the bargain. But when I saw it, it seemed so right that I had to have it for you.’

‘Andrew!’ Her cheeks flushed red. ‘You shouldn’t have, but darling, I’m glad you did.’ She opened it to show a small, heart-shaped box that held a dainty, heart-shaped brooch.

‘It’s gold, Julia, and look.’ His finger outlined the two letters entwined within the heart. ‘J and A. Julia and Andrew, I thought at once, though maybe it was James who bought it for Anne, or Albert for Joan.’

‘Andrew, it’s beautiful. Your initial and mine. I shall wear it tonight – wear it always. Oh, I wish you knew how much I love you. It’s like a great ache inside me.’ She closed her eyes, because she could hardly bear to look at him.

‘I know. I have a pain just like it,’ he said gravely. ‘And I’m glad to say there is no known cure for it. But should you be in a gentleman’s room, Miss Sutton, and you not married to him? What if anyone saw us? Your reputation would be in shreds.’

‘I know,’ she smiled. ‘It’s quite delightful, isn’t it? You’d have to marry me then, wouldn’t you? But I won’t compromise you, doctor dear. I shall go and see to Giles’s tie. I think I shall feel a lot safer in his room than here,’ she said softly, pinning the brooch to her dress.

‘I understand exactly.’ He took her hand in his, lingering his lips in its upturned palm, kissing it sensuously so that exquisite shivers of delight sliced through her; made her wonder how she would endure a year, almost, until they could rightfully close their bedroom door on the world. And she wondered, too, why just to look at the ordinary double bed in which Andrew would sleep tonight, all at once made it loom so large and tantalizing. ‘I’ll see you in the conservatory,’ she murmured. ‘In five minutes …’

Helen Sutton let go a small sigh of contentment, grateful that her very dear friends – those who had comforted her and been close to her during her years of mourning – were with her tonight. Dear and precious friends, and her family too. There was Judge Mounteagle and his formidable wife; though had Helen been fighting, back to the wall for her very life, it would have been Mrs Mounteagle, truth known, she would have wished at her side. There, too, was Doctor James, and Effie, and the Reverend Luke Parkin, and Jessica, to whom she owed so much; and she was guiltily glad that neither Clementina nor Elliot were coming, though she felt sad that Edward would not be able to enjoy his favourite pudding which Cook had so laboriously prepared for him.

She sat unspeaking, wanting John beside her, yet counting the blessings of this night. The sun, losing its brilliance now, lit the glass room softly, showing off the display of vines that climbed to the roof; exotic shrubs that could never have survived outdoors, and pots of flowers, grown specially for such an occasion in heated glasshouses, and carried inside to give pleasure. Orchids of every colour, save creamy-white; brilliant geraniums, sweet-scented jasmine and campanulas, blazing blue as a summer sky, all weeks before their time.

‘I see,’ remarked Mrs Mounteagle tartly, ‘that Pendenys is late, as usual.’

‘Ah – no. My sister-in-law,’ said Helen softly, ‘is a little unwell and cannot be here.’

‘Ha!’ the lady shrugged, the look of satisfaction ill-disguised on her face. ‘It comes to us all, I suppose – that certain age, I mean.’

She slanted her gaze at Mrs James who, caught off balance by such directness, could only glance appealingly at her husband.

‘Mrs Sutton is – er – a little under the weather; a little, that is all. Tomorrow, when I call, I fully expect her to be her old self again …’ the doctor offered reluctantly.

‘I see.’ Mrs Mounteagle was in no way convinced, and made a mental note to discover exactly what ‘a little under the weather’ embraced. ‘I shall leave my card when passing,’ she said without so much as a blush. ‘When will that son of hers be finished with Cambridge? Nathan, isn’t he called?’

‘Soon, now. We hope to have him back in just a few weeks. He’s a fine young man,’ Helen smiled, eager to be rid of the subject of Pendenys’s absence. ‘Giles particularly will be pleased.’

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