Somewhere My Love (15 page)

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Authors: Beth Trissel

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She waved a
blue-veined hand
at him
.
Gold b
racelets
jangled and her fingers sparkled with diamonds
.
“The cook
s
can’t poach a proper egg and I despair of the toast
ever
arriving warm, but my biggest
complaint is my age.
You can’t fix that
with a phone call
.
I’m old, boy.

Her thin lips curved in a half smile.

And
when I’m gone you
’ll inherit
Jasper
and not a penny
more
if you
aren’t
worthy.
” 

Upon hearing his name, t
he little dog raised
his h
ead and smiled ingratiatingly.
Mrs.
Wentworth
cocked a rheumy eye at
Julia
.
And i
t
i
mm
ediately became clear that she
was in the presenc
e of a force of nature, the kind
that swept you up in a vortex and swirled you away.
She wanted to latch onto Will but
di
dn’t dare under his grandmother’s
quizzical
regard.
   

The matriarch
arched a pale gray
eyebrow.
“Well,
sir, introduce
this young lady
to me
.
Quiet sort, isn’t she?

“Respectful,”
Will
amended.

“A
n
improvement over most
young people these days.”

“A
vast improvement
.
Nora
Wentworth
, this is
Miss
Julia Morrow.” He gestured at
Julia.
“Our assistant guide and heirloom plant expert.”

Julia
tottered
to the grand dame
like a debutant
e
at
tending
her first ball.
Somehow, the curtsy just came naturally
and she extended her hand
.
  Words tumbled from her mouth.
“I’m honored to meet you, Mrs.
Wentworth
,
and delighted to be in you
r gracious home.
Foxleigh is a
n
historic treasure
,
t
ruly, a treasure.

“So you said.”
The faint smile fl
ickered again at her narrow
lips and she took Ju
lia’s fingers in her bony hand.

British, eh?
And been
to court, by the looks of you.
Yes
, well,
do sit down
, Miss
Morrow
before your knees give way
.
You too, William.

She waved him
off
.

Don’t hover
about
.”

Shooting Julia a bemused look, Will
pulled up a chair
for her
at his grandmother’s right
.
H
e sat on the chair at
the old woman’s
left.
She
formed a barrier between them that her
physical stature alone
didn’t
account
for
.

“I’ve instructed Charlotte to keep the gat
hering at bay while we discuss Midsummer’s E
ve
festivities
,” Mrs. Wentworth said, blotting
her neck with an embroidered handkerchief.
  “There’s much to be done.”
 

Will leaned in
toward his grandmother
. “Yes, Ma’am.
I’m
over
seeing the restoration of the wall and the grounds will be
spotless.
I’ve ordered
lanterns
for the paths.
Foxleigh will be
at all
aglow
, just as you wanted
.

  

Julia widened her eyes
at hi
m.
This was exactly
how
she’d
envisioned
Foxleigh
in her dream of Cole,
if it
had
only
been
a dream
.
 

Mrs.
Wentworth looked hard at her.
“What’
s so sur
prising
about
these preparations
, girl?”
 

Julia didn’t know what to reply.

F
ortunately, Mrs. Wentworth
moved on to another subject.
“It’s over
ly
warm in here
, William
 
Where is Jon with tho
se lemonades?
Jon?

she said
, raising her
voice.
“There are three of us
to serve now
!”

“I hear you!” he called back.

“Let’s see you, then.

A middle-aged man w
ith an ample paunch and diminishing
hair
line puffed into the room bearing
a tray
with three tall beaded glasses.
L
ike his wife,
Charlotte, he’
d donned
Williamsburg-style clo
thes,
a
white
colonial
shirt,
olive green
waistcoat and
knee breeches with stockings and black buckled shoes.

H
is round face
bore the same good-
natured smile
as his wife
.
“D
on’t get your knickers in a twist
.
I’m coming.”
 

“My knickers are none of your busi
ness,” Mrs. Wentworth
said
, but the reproof didn’t
reach
all the way to
her eyes
.
 

He grinned more broadly.
“Now, Nora
, you and I go back a long way,
to the
time when you were a young thing shinnying up the apple tree
with your bloomers on display
.”

Mrs.
Wentworth
smiled despite herself.
“I never shinnied in my life, Jon Hensley
, as you know perfectly well
.
I see you’re still up to your old tricks.”

“What else?” he
chuckled
, and
passed out the refreshment with
a
wink
at Julia
. His pale blue eyes twinkled.
“So you’re the new guide
, eh
?
I heard about
your tour of the herb garden.
You were
quite
a sensation.”

Julia choked on her lemonade and
covered her mouth. 

A
slight grimace cross
ed
Will’s face.
He pressed th
e
tips
of his fingers
to his forehead
as if he had
a headache
.

His grandmother
angled a sidelong look at Julia.
“Wh
at’s
all
this
about
?”

Jon
smiled
.

Nothing.
The visitors adored her.
Ask anyone.

Mrs. Wentworth frowned. 
“As if I would indulge i
n such ridiculous interviews. 
If you are
quite fin
ished with your shenanigans
now
,
sir,
we shall
get
down
to business.”
 

Tugging
his sparse forelock in imitation of age-old servants
, he said,
  “Aye,
yer
ladyship.
I’ll
git
on back
to the scullery
now
.”

She
held up her hand, bracelets clinking
.
“Just a moment
.
You are
a
n
essential
part of the festivity.”

“In what way
?
A
part from serving drinks, I mean
?”

“The play.
You’ll make a fine Polonius.”

“Good Lo
rd.”
J
on sat down heavily on a chair.
“We’re doing
Hamlet
?”

Laying
his
hand on
the old woman’s
thin
shoulder
, Will asked,  “On Midsummer’s E
ve?”

She raised her eyes heavenward, gesturing with her lemonade
.
“Not the entire play
, gentlemen
.
Selections
, of course
.
We
’ll have the costume ball too
and that does restrict our time.”

“Yes.  It does,” Will emphasized, as if grasping this
glimmer of sense.  “
Don’t you think
it might be better to perform the play
another evening
if we’re having the ball
?”

“Dear me, no.  It’ll have to be then. 
And no ifs
about the ball.  I never go out at night
anymore and
shan’t again
after this
grand affair
.  Besides, eve
ryone
who’s anyone will be in attenda
nce
.
  Think of it as a living memorial to me,

she added with an arched
look at him. 
 

Will appeared
to be struggling with
a
twitch
in
his
eye
lid
.  “Quite.  How exactly do you envision the progression of the evening’s activities?”

She
gave his hand a tap.  “
You
sound like a cruise d
irector.  It’s simple, really.
Guests arrive at 7:00 for dancing and light refreshments lasting until 9:00 when they will be seated, as many as may be, for scenes from Hamlet.”

“To be given
where?”

She
surveyed her grandson as though he’
d missed the obvious.
“Why he
re, in the great hall
.
Where
else?
We’ll open
the other ro
oms for onlookers
.
  Really, William.
I should have thought
you’d
have
worked that out.

“Forgive me for lagging behind,” he said, with a slight edge to his voice.

But s
he
didn’t
seem to
take any notice.
“You’ll play Hamlet,
as usual.
O
ld Joe has done
the
dead
king
before
.
I’m not
sure about the uncle
yet
, but
Miss Morrow
wi
ll do quite well
as Ophelia.
Why, she
has that mad look about her
eyes
already
––

Julia gulped. 

Will broke in.
“We don’t
even
know
if she’s performed Shakespeare
, Ma’am.”

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