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

“Perry?”

“My twin. He apprentices with Mr Nicholas Sneed, Father’s accountant. Perry is to work with Father, and he insists my brother understand all facets of the company. Currently it is bookkeeping and accountancy he must study.”

“What kind of business does your father have?” I asked, then instantly regretted my ignorance as she smiled at me as though I had been living on the moon and was the only person who did not know.

“Why, he is a shipbuilder. Tell me, have you never heard of LaVelle Shipping?”

I shook my head to the negative.

Evergreen giggled. “How amusing. My father is a self-made millionaire, Jillian, and I do believe you are the first person I have ever met who did not know of him. He is called the working-class man’s hero,” she exclaimed with a note of disdain. “Father has not a drop of blue blood in his veins, but he was clever enough to become filthy rich.” She shrugged. “I am fortunate indeed to want for nothing, yet my father plans to marry me to a wretched title, probably one in need of a sound financial investment. I am a mere bargaining tool for him to auction off to the highest peerage.”

I was lost for words. I had nothing to compare to Evergreen’s statement, as my life seemed on an opposite hemisphere from her own. Did she want my sympathy? I cleared my throat.

“Miss LaVelle, I am unsure what you expect me to say? Am I supposed to empathise for one as fortunate as yourself?” I continued, oblivious of her reaction to my words. “I come from a social class whose main concern is whether they will afford one hot meal a day or lose their life from the black lung. Your concern of which wealthy husband you may have the misfortune to marry seems trivial in comparison. I am sorry, but if it is my pity you seek, I cannot give it honestly.”

Much to my amazement, she burst into a peal of laughter. “Oh my—how refreshing you are, Jillian Farraday. I am constantly surrounded by people only too happy to agree with every word I say.” Her face shone with pleasure. “Thank goodness you had the misfortune to be knocked over by my coach. To think,” she grasped one of my hands. “I should never have met you otherwise.”

“Evergreen?” A tall, dark-haired woman came into the room. Dressed in black bombazine, the style appeared harsh and too severe for one who appeared to be in her late twenties—not much older than myself.

“Marabelle.” Evergreen rose, and I followed suit. “Jillian Farraday, this is my cousin, Marabelle Pike. She lives here at Hollyfield and is in charge of running the house. Cousin, meet my newest friend from Ambleside.”

She assessed me with eyes black as pitch, and none too friendly.

I smiled and nodded a greeting. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Pike.”

“Likewise.” Her voice carried blatant disinterest. She turned her attention back to Evergreen. “Luncheon is served for you and your,” she hesitated and glanced at me, “new friend.”

The food looked delicious, but I derived no pleasure from the dainty sandwiches and fancy petit fours. I was entirely too uncomfortable being seated across from Miss Pike, who occasionally glanced up to look at me with a curious expression painted on her face. Evergreen monopolized the entire conversation, which suited me. I spent my time studying the two women at every opportunity.

Miss Pike resembled her name. Thin and serious, her face sullen, in direct contrast to her cousin Evergreen, who was all sunshine and brightness. We made decidedly odd companions.

I was relieved when the table was cleared, and Miss Pike rose first and excused herself. I was not sorry to see her depart. Evergreen invited me to take a turn around the gardens, and it was while doing this, I explained more about my uncle.

“How interesting to have a scientist in your family,” she said. “I should like to meet the fellow. He sounds rather fun.”

“Oh, he is that and more,” I smiled. “I did not know him well as he was my mother’s uncle. But when she died, Uncle Jasper invited me here to live with him as I have no other relatives. A kinder man I’ve yet to meet. I would be lost without him—in the poor house too.”

We wandered down a narrow path away from the house which led to a small copse of trees alongside a boathouse, and beyond it, the lake. I was quite taken by the beauty of the place. It was peaceful here and most serene. We neared the lake with its inky waters lapping gently at the sandy shoreline. Though not the repetitious sound of an ocean’s tide, I was nevertheless still soothed by it. I was a coastal girl born and bred, and there was naught I loved more than the sound of the tide. A gentle breeze stirred, tickling the fresh new leaves on the trees, and in the distance, I made out the call of a swan.

“I find the water here revolting. It is so muddy and dirty. I much prefer Brighton, and the sea.” Evergreen complained. “Salty air is so much fresher, don’t you agree?”

“It is certainly different. I have never been to Brighton, though I have always lived near the ocean.”

“Oh yes, I remember. Didn’t you say your family was from Devonshire?”

“Yes. Except Uncle Jasper moved away for his studies long before I was born. My family remained in Devon as Father worked in the tin mines.” We stared out at the water, at small yachts bobbing about in the lake. I thought of my father and imagined what he might have said were he stood beside me.

“When did your father die, Jillian?”

“He was killed in a mining accident when I was eight years old.” His face flashed in my head, an image so beloved.

“I am sorry,” Evergreen said. “I know what it is like to lose a parent when you are young.”