The Secret of Hollyfield House by Jude Bayton (first ebook reader TXT) 📕

to this railway station I had come on my way to Ambleside. I had not returned to Kendal in the few short weeks since moving in with Uncle Jasper.

As we left Evergreen’s carriage, I felt a rush of excitement joining the hustle and bustle of a busy, well-populated place. The air was charged with an energy absent in Ambleside Village. We alighted onto the main street, which was bordered with shops of many types.

“There now, are you not pleased you came along?” Evergreen smirked as she saw me smiling. I was rather pleased. In the weeks since I had lived in Ambleside, I had forgotten how exciting it felt to be among so many people. The sights, smells and sounds of a hamlet were a welcome change from the quiet of my new home—at least for a short while.

Our first stop was a Milliners, where Evergreen tried on several garish hats which I thought looked ridiculous. She bought three, much to my horror and the shopkeeper’s delight. From there we went into a shoe shop. The lady who assisted us gave a brief history of the shoe industry and how important it was to the area.

“Kendal manufactures shoes which are exported all over England,” she bragged. “You won’t find a better-quality shoe made anywhere.” Evergreen agreed and promptly purchased several pairs. After another hour, this time in a dressmaker's, I begged for a reprieve.

“You aren’t used to all this shopping, are you?” Evergreen said, handing her parcels to the coachman as we made our way to a nearby tearoom.

“No, I am not. It is more exhausting than washing laundry or tending the vegetable garden. I do not know how you manage to decide what to buy and what not to?”

“Hah,” she giggled. “’Tis such a heavy burden for me to bear—but I manage.” We both laughed out loud.

“Here we are,” Evergreen announced and opened the door to a small tearoom. We were seated near a window. There, we could watch the shoppers going by. Sandwiches and cakes were ordered, and by the time our pot of tea arrived, I was both thirsty and hungry. Our conversation lagged while we ate and sipped our drinks to revive ourselves.

“Jillian, have you always been poor?” My companion asked as she took a bite of a delicious custard tart. I almost choked on my mouthful of Victoria Sponge.

“That is rather a blunt way to ask.” I dabbed at my mouth with a serviette. “For all your wealth and education, Miss LaVelle, your manners are somewhat lacking.” I said sternly. I glared at her and then noticed a large dollop of custard hanging from her top lip. She looked ridiculous, and I burst out laughing.

“What?” she asked, brows drawn. I gestured to her face, and she wiped it away. “I didn’t mean anything bad, Jillian. I am simply curious. You are such an odd duck. You don’t come from a wealthy family, yet you are educated and intelligent.”

“And you are typical of the upper-class, Evergreen, who must equate intelligence with financial status.” I took another sip of tea. “It may shock you to learn that money does not necessarily relate to being clever. You of all people should know that. Look at what your father has accomplished.”

“Oh, you mean his rags to riches story?” She put down her fork. “There is some truth to that, but if he had not married Mother, he would never have been so successful.” She sat back in her chair. “Father is an adept businessman, but it was my mother’s fortune which founded his company. So, you see—” she arched one brow. “There is a correlation between money and brains, after all.”

“Perhaps,” I replied. “Yet your father’s acumen was there long before his fortune. I do not equate wealth with intelligence whatsoever. I argue intellect is either there to be nurtured through education, or absent. I have met many rich people who are as ignorant as a tree stump.”

“Do you count me as one?” she said quickly.

I shrugged. “Only when it comes to your taste in hats.”

UNCLE JASPER AND MRS STACKPOOLE had already supped when the carriage dropped me home. I made myself a sandwich, and once I had finished eating, joined my uncle. He was alone in the parlour with his snifter of whisky. Mrs Stackpoole had popped next door to have a word with our neighbour, Mrs Parker. I sat down on the sofa and loosened my shoelaces.

“Well, how was it?” he asked as I removed my shoes and sat back with a sigh.

“My feet ache as though I have been dancing a jig all afternoon. Goodness, Uncle, Evergreen LaVelle shops like a starved dog in a butcher shop. I should not care if I saw one more milliner in this lifetime.”

Uncle Jasper laughed as he lit his pipe, then relaxed back in his chair as aromatic smoke spun into the air. “I am sorry you had no coin to purchase anything pretty for yourself, Jilly dear.” His wrinkled face was apologetic, and I felt a twinge of guilt.

“I did not have need of anything, Uncle,” I soothed. “Truly, there was nothing I saw I could not live without. Though I did enjoy the tea and cakes more than I ought.” As he smiled, I pulled out a small box from my pocket. It was true I had little money to buy a fancy hat or fashionable dress, but I had enough to purchase a small gift for him. I passed it over, and he looked up in question.

“What is this?”

“A present for you.” He began to speak, but I held up my hand to silence him. “Please, do not say anything, just open it. ’Tis only a little thing, but it is a large thank you for all you have done to make me feel I have a home once more.”

His chubby fingers clumsily opened the box, and then he glanced up at me in utter delight. My heart swelled with happiness. I had been thrilled to