The Secret of Hollyfield House, Jude Bayton [books for 20 year olds txt] 📗

She chuckled. “Jillian, you are so forthright with your manner of speech. ’Tis a little off-putting at times.” She shook her head, “Still, I am sure you mean no harm. I have a request. Would you be willing to come out to the house while I sit for the painting? ’Tis improper for me to be alone with a young man—even an artist.”

I shook my head at her ridiculous request. “I am sorry, but that is impossible. I have far too much work here to be spared. Can you not ask your cousin, Marabelle? She lives with you, after all.”

“Absolutely not,” Evergreen snapped, and all warmth flew from her pretty eyes. “I detest the woman. Besides, she thinks me vain to have the painting done at all.”

Clutching my hands together on my lap I laced my fingers and struggled for a response. “Miss LaVelle—”

“Evergreen,” she interrupted.

“Evergreen, surely you understand I am not in the same position as you to do as I please. My uncle depends upon my work, and I cannot ignore my responsibilities to spend time with you, especially when there is much expected of me here.” My words sounded feeble even to my ears, for though I did have many duties, Mrs Stackpoole took care of cleaning the house and all the cooking.

“Jillian, please,” she injected a pleading note to her voice. “I would be so grateful if you could find the time to help me in this matter. Hollyfield is such a dull and boring place. I shall go mad if left to my own resources.”

“I am truly sorry for your unhappiness,” I replied. “But I cannot leave my uncle—”

“What’s that you say?” Uncle Jasper rejoined us. He held a small cabbage in his hand and granules of dirt fell to the floor.

“Professor Alexander,” Evergreen rose to her feet, her blue eyes shining in earnest. “I have asked Jillian to assist me in a small matter at Hollyfield while Dominic paints my likeness as a surprise for Father. Not only would it help me, but I should like to get to know her better. However, she insists she cannot leave her duties here with you.”

Uncle Jasper set the cabbage down upon his desk. “What’s this, Jilly? You shouldn’t turn down a request for help, my girl. Wouldn’t be polite. No, not one bit.”

I stifled the groan trapped in my chest. “Uncle Jasper, ’tis not that I am unwilling to help, but my time is limited with all I need to do each day. What about your lecture notes?” I knew that would rally him to my way of thinking.

“Mrs Stackpoole can help,” he suggested.

“What?” I was amazed. As intelligent as the housekeeper might be, she was not proficient in interpreting Uncle Jasper’s technical work.

“Perhaps not.” He had apparently come to the same conclusion. “But you should help Miss LaVelle, Jilly. ’Tis what a friend would do.”

I looked at the wealthy woman who glanced from my uncle to me in anticipation of a final answer.

“It would only be every other weekday for three hours in the morning, for the next few weeks, Jillian. And I would be forever in your debt.” Evergreen turned her beautiful smile upon Uncle Jasper. “Father will be so pleased with the portrait. And I shall tell him of your kindness, Professor. Of course, you could accompany your niece whenever you felt the inclination to spend time in our gardens and park. Not just for the specimens Perry granted you, but to procure anything which takes your fancy.”

With that, my fate was sealed. Uncle Jasper was completely on the hook.

“What an excellent notion, Miss LaVelle, and a generous offer indeed. I should be delighted for Jilly to spend time with people of her own age. It will do her the world of good. Consider me in agreement. ’Tis all right with you, is it not?” he asked me as an afterthought.

I felt Evergreen’s perusal. I had no choice but to comply, though I was not at all pleased with the outcome.

Uncle Jasper made small talk until Evergreen took leave of us, with my promise to attend her the next morning at ten o’clock. She would sit for her portrait for two hours, and then I would be given luncheon before returning home. I watched her step into her carriage and then I closed the front door. My new responsibility felt like a burden upon my shoulders. The only consolation was I would see Dominic Wolfe again.

THE NEXT MORNING, THE SULLEN grey sky reflected my mood. In the carriage, my mind knotted itself into a muddle of irritation. Though I had examined the reason for feeling so out of sorts, I determined it was from being at everyone else’s beck and call. Seldom did my time belong to me, always to my family—and now, Miss Evergreen LaVelle, as well.

At Hollyfield, I rapped the knocker and was ushered inside by the same girl as before. But this time she led me through a library and out into an enormous glass conservatory. It was a veritable jungle, teeming with pots and baskets full of lush green plants, and all manner of flowers. Many were unfamiliar, but I recognised the pungent scent of honeysuckle blossom, which permeated each breath I took. The maid escorted me through a maze of gravel pathways, the plants brushing against me as we passed.

The far end of the conservatory opened into a broad area, filled with white wicker furniture, adorned with ornate pillows of bold green satin. Semi-reclined upon a chaise longue lay Evergreen, and my step faltered as I absorbed the picture she presented.

She could pass for a Roman empress in her gown of pure white silk. Several layers of sheer taffeta fell from underneath the bodice, and the square-cut neckline plunged to reveal Evergreen’s creamy décolletage. I was so captivated by her appearance I failed to see she was not alone, so when Dominic Wolfe stepped out from behind a large easel,