Read Online The Flight of Swallows by Audrey Howard - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Audrey Howard
Ads: Link
would tell the others. In the kitchen, I mean, then . . .’
‘Oh, my lass . . .’
5
Their new King, to be called Edward VII, was to be crowned on 26 June so Brooke asked his bride-to-be if she would like to spend a few days in London after the wedding and watch the procession. They were to go on to Paris and perhaps she would care to travel to Italy; Florence was lovely at this time of the year but it was up to her, he added, struggling to fetch the girl who was to be his wife on 23 June out of the polite passivity that seemed to have come over her since he had presented her with the puppy. She was not the same warm, lively person who had been so rapturous about his gift.
He had not seen her for ten days after the conversation he had had with her father, the explanation given that she was unwell, a slight summer cold, which surprised him since she had not struck him as the sort of young woman who would take to her bed on such a slight indisposition. Arthur Drummond had been most hearty when he had called at King’s Meadow to tell Brooke that his daughter was agreeable to being his wife and had wanted, naturally, to come with him to tell Armstrong herself. As soon as she was recovered she would drive over with her maid to discuss the arrangements for the big day. He could not stay long, he said, since he was off to York with his older boys to see them safely installed at Barton Meade, a public school with a good reputation, but he had just wanted to inform Brooke that all was well. He went on to explain.
‘My sons have had a good grounding with Miss Price but I feel they need the rough and tumble of living with other boys to finish off their education. Yes, thank you, a quick whisky, if you don’t mind, and the preparations for my own marriage are taking up some of my time but as soon as she is improved my daughter will be in touch with you. I beg your pardon? . . . My youngest son? He is to go to the grammar school in Dewsbury until he is eight when he will join his brothers at Barton Meade. I believe my daughter has a request of you, Brooke – I may call you Brooke, mayn’t I, since we are to be related? Thank you – but Charlotte will speak to you very soon, I’m sure.’
She drove over with her maid a few days later, ostensibly to be shown her new home and to tell him how honoured she was by his proposal but it seemed to Brooke she was distant, cool, as though she had been well rehearsed in the pretty speech. She was very correct, gracious even, but she appeared to be totally disinterested until he was forced to ask her outright, as was his way she was to find out later, if she was certain that this was what she wanted.
‘When I spoke to your father it was with the intention of . . . in the future, asking you to be my wife. He was somewhat precipitate in speaking to you since we barely know one another and you are very young. I want you to know that if this . . . if I’m not to your . . . well, no one is forcing you, Miss . . . no, I shall call you Charlotte and you must call me Brooke. We can become friends, if you are willing but I will not . . . not . . .’ He ran his hands through his dark curling hair which was already dishevelled, and Charlotte felt her frozen heart move a little, for this man was not an enemy and was doing his best. ‘I do not wish you to be made . . . your father is . . .’
He was leading her across the gravel from the carriage. There was a circle of grass in front of the house with a statue of some sort in the middle and the carriage had driven round it, coming to a stop by the front door. Kizzie followed them, decently dressed in a plain outfit as befitted a maidservant. She liked him. This was the first time she had met him and when Miss Charlotte had said vaguely that ‘this is my maid’ he had turned and smiled and asked her her name. She liked him and thought that Miss Charlotte would be all right with him.
‘Dost tha’ want ter
‘Oh, my lass . . .’
5
Their new King, to be called Edward VII, was to be crowned on 26 June so Brooke asked his bride-to-be if she would like to spend a few days in London after the wedding and watch the procession. They were to go on to Paris and perhaps she would care to travel to Italy; Florence was lovely at this time of the year but it was up to her, he added, struggling to fetch the girl who was to be his wife on 23 June out of the polite passivity that seemed to have come over her since he had presented her with the puppy. She was not the same warm, lively person who had been so rapturous about his gift.
He had not seen her for ten days after the conversation he had had with her father, the explanation given that she was unwell, a slight summer cold, which surprised him since she had not struck him as the sort of young woman who would take to her bed on such a slight indisposition. Arthur Drummond had been most hearty when he had called at King’s Meadow to tell Brooke that his daughter was agreeable to being his wife and had wanted, naturally, to come with him to tell Armstrong herself. As soon as she was recovered she would drive over with her maid to discuss the arrangements for the big day. He could not stay long, he said, since he was off to York with his older boys to see them safely installed at Barton Meade, a public school with a good reputation, but he had just wanted to inform Brooke that all was well. He went on to explain.
‘My sons have had a good grounding with Miss Price but I feel they need the rough and tumble of living with other boys to finish off their education. Yes, thank you, a quick whisky, if you don’t mind, and the preparations for my own marriage are taking up some of my time but as soon as she is improved my daughter will be in touch with you. I beg your pardon? . . . My youngest son? He is to go to the grammar school in Dewsbury until he is eight when he will join his brothers at Barton Meade. I believe my daughter has a request of you, Brooke – I may call you Brooke, mayn’t I, since we are to be related? Thank you – but Charlotte will speak to you very soon, I’m sure.’
She drove over with her maid a few days later, ostensibly to be shown her new home and to tell him how honoured she was by his proposal but it seemed to Brooke she was distant, cool, as though she had been well rehearsed in the pretty speech. She was very correct, gracious even, but she appeared to be totally disinterested until he was forced to ask her outright, as was his way she was to find out later, if she was certain that this was what she wanted.
‘When I spoke to your father it was with the intention of . . . in the future, asking you to be my wife. He was somewhat precipitate in speaking to you since we barely know one another and you are very young. I want you to know that if this . . . if I’m not to your . . . well, no one is forcing you, Miss . . . no, I shall call you Charlotte and you must call me Brooke. We can become friends, if you are willing but I will not . . . not . . .’ He ran his hands through his dark curling hair which was already dishevelled, and Charlotte felt her frozen heart move a little, for this man was not an enemy and was doing his best. ‘I do not wish you to be made . . . your father is . . .’
He was leading her across the gravel from the carriage. There was a circle of grass in front of the house with a statue of some sort in the middle and the carriage had driven round it, coming to a stop by the front door. Kizzie followed them, decently dressed in a plain outfit as befitted a maidservant. She liked him. This was the first time she had met him and when Miss Charlotte had said vaguely that ‘this is my maid’ he had turned and smiled and asked her her name. She liked him and thought that Miss Charlotte would be all right with him.
‘Dost tha’ want ter
Similar Books
