Dear Bartleby, page 13
I had to laugh. “But you’re so very domestic now.”
He rolled his eyes. “If by ‘domestic,’ you mean having my own study in which to read without anyone bothering me, then yes.”
“Oh, stuff,” I said. “Look at yourself: you have all sorts of papers and things all over your desk.”
He riffled the papers into a stack. “Yes, well. Menus have to be approved and whatnot, haven’t they?”
I smirked.
“At any rate,” he said. “Gerry was the one who persuaded me to reconsider my position on marriage. And Charles—well, when Charles proposed I realized I might be cut out for marriage after all. But I was convinced I would never find anyone...” He cleared his throat. “Anyone to love me enough to want to marry me.” He was silent for a moment, looking as though he were lost in the memories. “Anyway, you’re only twenty and have a respectable occupation. So, I daresay you’re off to a good start.”
So, Bartleby, it would appear I have decided to stay in Tutting-on-Cress for a while. Is it not strange?
6 September 1817
Dear Bartleby,
Was granted the morning off for studies as well, so I practiced my tea spell a bit until lunch. At lunch, Charles announced he was taking the carriage with Gerry and Pip when they returned to work so he could do some shopping in the village.
“Would either of you care to join me?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I can,” Gavin said. “I promised Mrs. Thornsby I’d approve the linen schedule for her today. And Aunt Lily asked me to come to tea.”
Charles smiled at Gavin fondly. “Very good, my darling. Anything you need picked up in town?”
Gavin shook his head. “Nothing comes to mind.”
Charles turned to me. “What about you, Seb? Care to join me for a little shopping trip? Get out of the house a bit?”
“I’d like that.”
He grinned. “Lovely. We’ll get you a new pair of boots, too. I fancy your current pair is looking a little worn.”
We took the carriage together with Gerry and Pip into Tutting-on-Cress and Charles had the driver wait while he and I went shopping. He stashed all of our parcels in the carriage and sent it back home.
“You don’t mind the walk, do you?” he asked. “I’d like Gavin to have the carriage to visit your aunt.”
I assured him I didn’t mind and fell into step. “Charles?”
“Mm?”
“Did you know when you married Gavin that you might also be taking on a whole lot of other people?”
He grinned.
“I know you said you like spoiling people,” I went on. “But you’re housing Gerry and Pip, as well as me. I’m fairly sure you’re paying for all of our clothes, too.” I hesitated. “Do you mind at all?”
He chuckled. “Not a bit of it, darling,” he said. “We won’t be having children, so I have no need to save for that eventuality. I have no doubt that the three of you will be settled in the next few years. I can easily afford to take care of you until that happens.”
“Oh,” I said. “Are you disappointed that you won’t be having children?”
“Not particularly,” he said. “Mind you, I do adore children, and I’m convinced Gavin would make a darling father. But I’ve known from the beginning of our courtship—quite frankly, before Gavin even realized it was a courtship—that he wasn’t interested in raising a family. It would hardly be fair for me to do so with the intention of trying to change his mind. Besides, I love Gavin more than I love the prospect of parenthood.”
“Oh,” I said again. “That’s good.”
He smiled. “It is sweet of you to worry about it, though.”
I shrugged. “Just something I’ve wondered about. Ever since Gavin mentioned I ought to be thinking about the future…I don’t know…it occurred to me to wonder about it.”
“Would you like to have children?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’ve never really thought about it much, to be honest. I like children.”
“And you do like to keep busy,” Charles said.
“Yes,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Children would definitely keep you occupied.”
“Yes…” I said. “I suppose I would be like Mama and be in charge of the nursery and everything when I get married?”
“Most likely,” Charles said. “Unless you marry another nextborn.”
“Somehow I don’t think my work with Bertie would support an entire family.”
He chuckled. “Unlikely.” He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Mr. Ayles is a firstborn, you know.”
I sighed. “Yes, thank you. I am aware.”
“If you were courted by a gentleman who wanted children, would that please you or concern you?” he pressed.
I considered. “I suppose I could go either way on the matter.”
“Not a bad perspective,” he said. “Do you mind a slight detour, dear? I’d like to make a social call while we’re in the vicinity.”
“I have no plans for the day,” I replied.
When we approached a small house, I asked him where we were going.
“This is Copperage Farm,” he said. “The Ayles family property.”
I stopped. “Oh, no. You didn’t.”
He smirked and slung an arm around my shoulders. “I did, darling. It was very underhanded and I do apologize. However, even if you are simply looking to know the gentleman as a friend, it would do well for you to know his parents, wouldn’t it?”
“You’re intolerable,” I said, fussing at my coat and wishing I’d worn something a mite nicer.
A maid took our things and we were ushered into a cozy parlor where a gentleman was sitting. He was in his mid to late forties, had dark brown skin, no hair on his head, and bushy eyebrows. He was of a stocky sort of build, well dressed, and looked to be of a cheerful disposition. He smiled as we came into the room.
“Mr. Kentworthy,” he said, stepping forward to greet us. “How nice to see you again.”
“Mr. Ayles, a pleasure as always,” Charles said. “We were on our way back from the village and thought we’d pay you a visit. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Ayles said, beaming. “Please stay for tea.”
“We would be delighted. Allow me to introduce my brother-in-law, Mr. Hartford.”
Mr. Ayles took my hand warmly. “Mr. Hartford? My, it is a pleasure, young sir. My son has talked of you often.”
“He has?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “Do, please be seated.” He sent the maid to fetch some tea. “He has told us much about all of the friends he’s made since he’s been training with his lordship. I daresay he thinks very highly of you.”
I felt a little flutter in my chest at the thought of Mr. Ayles speaking of me as if I was a friend, and, what’s more, a well-regarded one. “That’s very kind of him,” I said.
The door opened and another gentleman strode in. “Algie,” he said as he walked in. “Where are my—oh,” he said, seeing us. “I beg your pardon. I did not know we had company.”
Charles stood and I hastily followed suit.
“My apologies, Mr. Ayles,” Charles said. “We dropped in unexpectedly. Your husband was kind enough to invite us to stay for tea.”
He waved his hand. “No need for apologies, Mr. Kentworthy. You’re welcome any time.” Mr. Robert Ayles was of a less cheerful manner than his husband, and much more soft-spoken. But he did seem to be a good-humored sort of person. He looked a little older, with frizzy grey hair, keen eyes, and pale skin. A pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. He noticed me and gave a friendly smile.
“Ah,” Charles said, leading me forward. “Allow me to introduce my brother-in-law, Mr. Hartford.”
Mr. Ayles shook my hand. “A pleasure, young man. I’m glad to finally meet you. I must admit we’ve been wanting to for quite some time.”
“Oh, er, you have?”
We all sat back down again, Charles and I took a pair of chairs and both Mr. Ayleses sat together on a sofa. Quite frankly, Bartleby, it is too confusing trying to discuss two men with the same name. I shall henceforth describe them as Mr. Robert and Mr. Algernon, but you ought to know I was thoroughly proper the entire time.
“Well,” Mr. Robert said. “Our son talks of nothing these days but his experiences at his lordship’s house.”
“We’ve been excessively curious about both you and Lord Finlington,” Mr. Algernon said. “Of course,” he added. “I’m not sure we’ll have an opportunity to meet his lordship. He is a rather grand person.”
Charles smiled. “He’s one of my oldest friends. I know he would be delighted to have your acquaintance. Perhaps when this is all over, you can all join us for dinner.”
“Oh, that would be lovely,” Mr. Algernon said.
“Very kind,” Mr. Robert said.
“And the ball,” I put in.
They all turned to look at me.
“Er, I believe there is to be a ball at the end of the process. Where Bertie will announce the three finalists.”
“Yes,” Charles said, smiling at me. “I do believe you’re right, dear.” He turned back to the gentlemen. “So you will have an opportunity to meet him soon.”
“Delightful,” said Mr. Algernon.
“How are your studies coming along, Mr. Hartford?” Mr. Robert said. “Laury tells us you’ve been learning magic from the viscount.”
“They’re coming along nicely, sir,” I said. “Thank you.”
The tea was brought in and Mr. Algernon poured out for everybody. “How long do you intend to stay in Tutting-on-Cress, Mr. Hartford?” he asked after everyone was served.
“Well—”
The door opened and Mr. Ayles, my Mr. Ayles—well, dash it all, Bartleby, I mean to say, Mr. Laurence Ayles—walked in. He stopped at the sight of us (I feel as though I ought to refer to him as Mr. Laurence to keep consistent, but, well, I do think of him as Mr. Ayles. You will indulge me, I hope, if I name people as I see fit.).
“Oh,” he said, smiling. “Good to see you. No, please don’t get up,” he added as Charles and I prepared to stand.
“You’re home early, aren’t you?” Mr. Robert asked.
“Yes,” Mr. Ayles said, walking across the room. He walked behind the sofa and leaned down to give each of his fathers a kiss on the cheek. “Today was the last day of theory. We had to recite the list of Constitutional Properties in private. His lordship was kind enough to have me go first, so I was able to leave sooner.”
“How did you do?” I asked.
He grinned at me as he took a seat. “Very well, thank you. Your suggestion for the spells was most helpful.”
“I cannot believe you memorized the whole thing in a week,” I said. “It took me over a month to get it all done.”
He accepted a cup of tea from Mr. Algernon. “Yes, well, I had a more pressing need, I expect.” He flashed me a smile. “So I had an incentive to memorize it right away. And Father helped, of course,” he added.
Mr. Robert chuckled. “I now know far more about Constitutional Properties than I ever wished to.”
“Mr. Hartford,” Mr. Algernon said after some silence had passed. “I do apologize. You never had a chance to finish your answer. How long do you intend to stay in Tutting-on-Cress? I understand your sojourn here is temporary.”
I glanced at Charles, who was looking at me in that amused way of his. Curse him. “Well,” I said. “As it happens, I believe I shall be staying here for quite some time. Bertie, I mean Lord Finlington, has agreed to keep me as his assistant for the foreseeable future. Charles and Gavin, my brother, have agreed that I may stay.”
“That is good news,” Mr. Algernon said. “It’s always nice to have young people come into the neighborhood.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Robert said. “Most people your age gravitate toward London at this phase, at least for a short while.”
“I have always wanted to go to London,” I admitted. “But I don’t know that I’d like to go there for a Season…at this time. Besides, my father…er, well I’m not sure I’d be permitted. Alone, at least.”
“He’ll probably relent in a few years,” Charles said, chuckling. “Give him time. He needs to forget your time at Oxford first.”
“Trouble-maker, were you, young man?” Mr. Robert said.
“Oh, very much, yes,” said Charles.
“Charles!” I whispered.
Mr. Algernon laughed. “Not to worry, Mr. Hartford. I was too, back in my day.”
“Really?” said Mr. Ayles. “That surprises me.”
“It shouldn’t,” Mr. Robert said.
His husband grinned. “Rode a horse through the library once. Almost got sent down for it.”
“You didn’t, Papa!”
“What about you, Mr. Hartford? What manner of trouble did you stir up?”
I was frightfully embarrassed by the direction of the conversation. “Well,” I said. “I played a few pranks.”
“A few?” Charles said. “This rascal was always sending my husband all sorts of stories. Let me think now, there were the bubbles in the fountain, the missing bust in the garden, the invisible lectern, the—”
“Yes, yes, Charles. I think they get the point,” I said. “Father was not best pleased about it all. That’s why I was sent here.”
“And are you still up to your usual tricks, Mr. Hartford?” Mr. Algernon said.
“As a matter of fact,” Charles said, “he is not. I daresay Gavin and I are quite proud of the young man he’s turning out to be.”
I looked at him. “Really?” I said quietly.
“Of course, darling,” he replied.
“I’m not at all surprised to hear that,” Mr. Robert said. “I find the most mischievous young men often grow up to be the kindest-hearted ones.” He looked fondly at his husband. “I daresay there’s something to be said about understanding human nature or what have you.”
“Oh, really, Robert. You give me far too much credit,” Mr. Algernon said, patting his husband on the knee.
Everyone turned to me as if I ought to say something then. I squirmed in my seat, uncomfortable with the sudden attention and completely unsure of what to say.
“Mr. Hartford,” Mr. Ayles said. “Would you care to take a stroll around the garden with me? It is nothing to his lordship’s, of course, but I think you’ll find it very fine.”
I blushed, but quickly set my teacup aside. “I would be delighted.”
When we stepped out of the house, he said, “You looked a bit uncomfortable. I fancy all the talk about your pranks was not something you wished to discuss.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Oh, dear,” I said. “Was it so very obvious?”
He chuckled. “That is one good thing about being an only child,” he said. “No older siblings to tease me.”
“Very lucky for you.” I hesitated. “Thank you,” I added. “That was considerate.”
He smiled at me. “Don’t mention it.”
We walked in silence for a bit. The garden was very nice. It was less manicured than Charles’s or Bertie’s and there were vegetables mixed in with the flowers. Not that Charles doesn’t have fruit and veg, but the kitchen has its own little garden plot by the chicken coop. Although I don’t walk by it very often these days.
“This is a lovely garden,” I said at last.
He grinned. “Thank you. I love it. I have plans, you know. I want to expand it. Look here,” he said, taking my arm and walking me to a wide empty space. “There’s this lovely area. Papa had it cleared out for a pond he thought to put in, but then he never did it. I would very much like to use it for my own purposes. I’ve been talking to his lordship about growing magical plants and plants good for spellwork. Can you imagine it? We could have mint and rosemary and mugwort. I could even fit a willow tree just over there. Maybe even a witch hazel tree. And his lordship gave me all sorts of suggestions for growing things like dragon’s breath, frostblossom, and Oberon’s Wrath. You know, plants that have to be treated and such. It would be marvelous.”
He was so animated during this speech. For all the times I’ve talked to him and all the time I’ve spent with him, it occurred to me that I was seeing a new version of the gentleman, here in his own home. It was a nice sensation. I realized I want to see more of that version of him.
“Indeed it would,” I said. “It’s like your two favorite things blended together in one project, magic and plant-life.”
“Exactly! I shall be able to experiment as much as I’d like. Everything from potatoes to cardamom—”
“Potatoes? What on earth can they do?”
“You’d be surprised. And all of the treated plants I can grow here would be useful as well. I want to see if using dragon’s breath in my fertilizer will keep plants healthy during the winter and—” He broke off and chuckled. “Well, I have all sorts of ideas. I suppose I don’t need to tell you all of them.”
“I don’t mind,” I said. “You’re not boring me.”
“Thank you. I’m glad to hear it. But it would be better for me to save some topics for later conversations. Keep you in suspense, you know.” He gave me a little wink.
I felt my face get hot and I turned away. “Well, I must say it’s impressive that you have so many ideas. I confess I’ve only recently begun to think about my future. You seem to have a talent for it. Do you have any plans beyond the garden?”
His grin widened and he held out his hand. “Come with me.”
Taking his hand shouldn’t have been exciting, Bartleby. But it was.
He led me away from the garden and to a tall tree. There were wooden planks nailed to the tree like a ladder and at the top was a treehouse, partially built.
I looked up at it. “Did you build this?”
“Papa’s been helping me, but yes. It isn’t done yet, but it’s stable to walk on. Fancy a look?”
I nodded.
He climbed up and I tried not to admire the view. I waited a moment before following.
As soon as I reached the house, he took my hand again and walked me inside. “We still have to finish the roof, you see,” he said. “This side is done, but the other half needs more added. And I would like to give it more polish. You know, sand down the rough edges. That sort of thing.”
