beyond him were two older ladies, and their host turned to them to make the introductions.
“Kit, you know my mother, of course. Miss Maitland, this is my mother, Lady Lindsay, and her sister, Mrs. Jepson.”
Lady Lindsay was a fine-looking woman in an elegant gown and with her neatly dressed greying hair still tinged with the red that her son had inherited. Mrs. Jepson, by contrast, had faded brown curls, which were arranged in a rather untidy style, and to Julia’s eyes she was wearing a rather fussy and old-fashioned dress.
“Kit, congratulations on your new inheritance! I was so delighted to hear the news from James. I know of the estate, although I have never been there.”
“Thank you, ma’am. It is all very new to me at present, but I look forward to welcoming you to Morancourt. I am hoping that James can advise me on various matters relating to the use of the land, once I have had time to discover what needs to be done.”
Lady Lindsay turned to Julia.
“I should be delighted to be your chaperone in Beaminster on Saturday evening, Miss Maitland. I dare say that you will not need much protection amongst the pleasant group of young people who will be attending the occasion, but I shall be very pleased to be of assistance. My sister is staying with me for a few days, before returning to her home near Yeovil, and so will be accompanying us.”
Mrs. Jepson said very little, but seemed to be a pleasant woman, although of no great intellect. After a few more minutes of conversation, Lady Lindsay suggested that her son might show Miss Maitland parts of the house, and so Julia went with Mr. Hatton and his friend back into the hall.
“I understand, Sir James, that you went to school with Mr. Hatton. I would dearly love to know what kind of a schoolboy he was!”
“Very determined, Miss Maitland, and very good at his books, too, unlike me.”
“You are too hard on yourself, my friend,” said Mr. Hatton, “for you gained a place at Oxford at the same time as I did.”
Julia looked surprised, but, before she could put the question, Mr. Hatton answered her. “I decided not to go to Oxford, Miss Maitland, much to my mother’s regret, but to take up a commission in the regiment instead. I saw little future for myself as a clergyman, and the benefit of a degree in any other profession that I might pursue seemed very limited.”
“Does your aunt have any children, Sir James? Jepson is an unusual name, and I met a young man of that surname in Bath a little while ago.”
“Yes, Miss Maitland, I have three cousins. Patrick is the youngest; his two elder sisters are both married and living some distance away now.”
On the way back to Morancourt, Mr. Hatton said, “Why did you ask whether my aunt had any children?”
Julia thought quickly. “As I said, Jepson seems rather an unusual name.”
Mr. Hatton gave her a long look, and Julia realised that he was well aware that she had not told him the whole story, but he didn’t question her anymore.
Eight
The rest of that day was rather wet, and Julia spent most of the evening with her aunt. They jointly composed a letter to Emily Brandon, for she was due to return to Cressborough Castle within the next few days. From that activity, her aunt moved on to ask about more details of the Brandon family, but fortunately Mr. Hatton had left them by that time to attend to some business in his study, so that Julia did not have to take too much care in what she said.
The next day was Friday, and Mr. Hatton proposed that he and Julia should take the carriage to Eggardon Hill, an earthwork some distance to the east of Morancourt that was thought to be very old, and from which he said fine views could be obtained.
The journey did not take too long. Mr. Hatton explained that the farm there below Eggardon Hill was reputed to have been bought at the end of the previous century by one of the most successful smugglers in Dorset, Isaac Gulliver. A group of trees was said to have been planted on the hilltop to act as a beacon for ships coming along the Channel to bring contraband goods ashore.
“That was what Mr. Henry Hatton told me when I was young, but I don’t know whether it’s true. The Gulliver family may still own the farm, and I thought that it might be useful to have a look, although we can pretend that we have just come to observe the scenery.”
This, thought Julia, is much more interesting than sitting at home in Derbyshire doing needlework, or reading a book in my father’s library.
As though being aware of her thoughts, Mr. Hatton said, “It might be very dangerous if we encounter the wrong people, so please do be careful what you say if we should meet anyone.”
However, when they had left the carriage at the end of the track and walked up to the highest point, at first they found only the stumps of a group of trees, and visible in the distance at a lower level, there was an old farmhouse, which seemed to be defended by a group of barking dogs. Mr. Hatton did not venture in that direction, but pointed out to Julia various landmarks that could be seen from the vantage point, including a wide panorama of the coastline.
It was as they turned to walk back to the carriage that they found a broad-shouldered man of middle height and with sparse grey hair standing on the path some distance ahead, looking directly at them. As they came closer, Julia could see that his coat was of good quality, buttoned high against the wind, and his hands were well kept, as though he was not used to manual labour.
“Good day to you, sir,” he said in a local accent, entering into conversation with Mr. Hatton and introducing himself as the priest from the village church in Burton Bradstock. He acknowledged some acquaintance with the Lindsay family, and after some time Mr. Hatton turned the discussion adroitly towards the subject of smuggling.
“Don’t you believe everything that you have heard about Isaac Gulliver, sir. He is in late middle age now, but was never a dangerous or violent man, just very skilful at his trade. It is some of those others in a new group operating closer to Bridport who are causing more trouble now.”
Julia took more interest in the conversation at this point, since Mr. Hatton’s expression remained calm and apparently disinterested.
“Why is that?” she asked.
“They seem to be in a hurry to make a lot of money very quickly, Miss, and I’ve heard that anyone getting in their way can find that they get a very sore head for their pains!”
“Oh! I see.”
“And they are going for the very valuable fancy stuff, wines and silks—not tobacco or any of the other goods that sell so well around here.” The stranger suddenly recollected himself and changed the subject, inquiring where Mr. Hatton and his lady companion had come from. Mr. Hatton made a noncommittal reply, and shortly afterwards, they parted, with the priest making his way on towards the top of the hill.
After Mr. Hatton had handed her back into the carriage, Julia remarked that she had noticed that all the tracks visible from the top of the hill had seemed to be very well used.
“Yes,” said Mr. Hatton, “and I wonder who by—our new acquaintance, perhaps?”
“Do you mean that he was not the priest, but a smuggler?”
“Perhaps it doesn’t matter, Miss Maitland. But it was interesting what he said about a new group near Bridport. I think I shall make some discreet enquiries of James Lindsay tomorrow.”
In their absence, Dr. Bulman had called to see Aunt Lucy, and the news was good. If her ankle continued to improve, she could consider returning home in a few days’ time.
Julia had almost forgotten about the social event to which Lady Lindsay had invited her on Saturday evening, but Aunt Lucy definitely had not. Although she was not as managing as Julia’s mother, she did ask her niece all the details of what she was proposing to wear, including which dress, which shoes, and which jewellery.
On the following evening, Martha was summoned to dress Julia’s curls in a fashionable style, and all the fussing over her appearance caused her to think that the enjoyment of the evening might be destroyed. However,
