Page 49 of The House of Hopes and Dreams
‘Books. The more I see, the more I realize that restoring and looking after Mossby will be my life-work.’
‘But will you be happy staying in one place for very long?’ I asked.
‘I would here, because this ismyplace,’ he explained. ‘I expect I’ll take commissions to work on other properties later, but I’ll always want to come back home.’
The muniment room was a long chamber which, despite the dark panelling and large fireplace, was not entirely in period with the rest of the house. There were several fairly recent additions, like a lamp, a roll-top desk, a large Turkish rug and a wall of bookcases, some glazed.
‘My uncle liked to hang out here before his last illness. He was allegedly writing a family history, but he was working back and had only got as far as the wealthy but plebeian mill owner who married the last Revell in the middle of the nineteenth century and changed his surname to hers.’
‘That would be … the father of the Ralph Revell who married Jessie Kaye?’ I ventured.
‘I think so – I’ll have to go into it later. There must be a family tree in here somewhere.’
I looked round. ‘Don’t you haveanyidea where the secret hiding place is, then?’
‘No, not even a hint. I’ll have to contain myself till tomorrow. Usually the secret is passed directly down from one heir to the other, but in this case, Mr Wilmslow is the middleman.’
But now I’d spotted the samplers on the darkest wall, some framed and some simply on stretchers, and Carey had to drag me away.
‘Like the windows, those will have to wait for another day,’ he said firmly. ‘It feels like hours since lunch and I’m ravenous!’
I was sure he was also tired, so I didn’t protest, and we returned via the turret to the twenty-first century.
‘I don’t know about you,’ I said, ‘but I’m bushed and I want to unpack a few things and then just chill for a while.’
‘OK, but why don’t we go along the road to that pub – hotel – whatever it is, and have dinner, in a bit? I noticed a sign saying they served food.’
‘The Screaming Skull? Yes, we could do that. I’ll drive so you can get legless.’
Then I realized what I’d said and looked at him, appalled at my slip of the tongue.
Carey grinned wryly. ‘Laugh, and the world laughs with you.’
During luncheon we discussed what might be the subject of the windows in the inner hall and Miss Revell suggested roses. They appear to be her great passion and, though at this time of year there was nothing to show me in her rose garden on the first terrace, she described each variety that grew there in great detail.
Father, who is not much interested in horticulture, went off with Mr Revell to view the gas-producing plant, which was in a building near the stables, and I confess I had an unladylike interest in seeing it for myself.
However, Miss Revell has inspired me with ideas based around her beloved roses and I will have some designs ready to show her brother on his next visit to London.
For the rest of our stay, Mr Revell barely left my side and even accompanied us to the station when we departed after lunch the following day.
Of course, I completely understood his passion for Mossby and his striving to have everything perfect, down to the very smallest detail, so we had much to talk about. This does make one lose track of the time …
I don’t think Honoria shared his interests, but behind her severe façade she clearly doted on her handsome younger brother – even more than on her beloved roses!
While Mr Revell had shown me great attention during our visit, it had merely been on the friendly basis we had established in London. If sometimes my breath caught and my heart beat a little faster when heturned those wonderful eyes on me, glowing with enthusiasm, that was hardly to be surprised at.
But I could see Father was uneasy as we travelled home and after some harrumphing warned me not to put the wrong interpretation on to Mr Revell’s attentions to me during our stay.
‘Oh, no, Father,’ I assured him briskly. ‘I am sure that with his friend Mr Browne away, he was simply missing a sympathetic ear to discuss his grand schemes with. In fact, Miss Revell more or less told me so, soon after we arrived.’
I did not add that since he was tall, handsome and a member of the gentry, while I was an insignificant dab of a tradesman’s daughter, it would have been silly indeed for me to cherish hopes in that direction!
‘I thought that you and Michael would make a match of it,’ Father said.
‘I love my cousin like a brother and am delighted that he and Lily are to marry,’ I said. ‘They are perfect for each other – and as for me, I love my work and am entirely contented with my single state.’
Which I was, especially since I had begun to take a much greater role in the business. Few husbands, I fancied, would be likely to tolerate such involvement from their wives.
