They twisted globs of dough around sticks and roasted them over the open fire, turning the sticks slowly until the bread turned brown and crusty, while remaining fluffy inside. The smell of wood, smoke, and freshly baked bread suffused the air.
“Don’t hold it directly into the fire, or else it’ll burn,” Philip warned, as he helped Joy turn her stick. “Next time use less dough, then it bakes faster.”
“But I’m so hungry, Papa.” Joy licked her lips in anticipation.
Arabella picked the crispy crust off the stick with her fingers and popped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes. She’s never eaten anything so good.
They gathered around the fire, the Merivales, huddled in their towels, with strands of wet hair plastered to their faces, munching with open mouths, while talking at the same time. Robin explained his flying machine, which he wanted to get patented. Philip listened and nodded.
He didn’t brush him off or tell him it was impossible. He was taking his children’s flights of fancy seriously.
The orange golden flames flickered over Philip’s face as he talked, animated, using both his hands to explain.
“Robin is onto something great, here. I know it is difficult to believe, Miss Weston, but one day we will be able to invent machines of such perfection, anything will be possible. We’ll be able to fly.”
Arabella, in a dream-like state, looked up, saw the stars twinkle down on her. “Even to the moon?”
He leaned on his elbow and lifted his face. “Certainly. To the moon. And beyond.”
“In a flying machine.” Robin sighed. “I wish I could be in it.”
“Me too,” she heard herself say. “I’d join you in a jiffy.”
Philip, his hair sticking out in all directions, turned to her with a smile so boyishly happy her heart stopped. Only to resume a moment later, hammering away in a rhythm that was alarming. She pressed her hand over it, afraid the others would hear it.
A feeling of golden honey warmth flooded through her body.
That night, Arabella couldn’t sleep. Her mind was a heated jumble of the day’s events. She’d been living with the Merivales for six weeks. Not a day had gone by that hadn’t been eventful. But today had been quite different. It had been magical.
It had been so easy, so natural to talk to him. He’d listened as if he’d been truly interested in what she had to say. There’d been admiration in his eyes. And humour. When he laughed, they turned a shade greener. But in the house or in the shadow, they took on a greyish hue.
How easy it was to love them, she thought as she looked at the rays of moonlight that made silvery crinkles on her bedsheet. How easy it was to love him.
She sat up straight in bed.
Love?
She fell back and stared with a dry mouth at the ceiling.
Oh, no, no no no.
Oh yes, whispered her heart.
Oh yes.
Chapter 16
The next day was Arabella’s day off and she welcomed it. She needed to get away from the Merivales, their energy, ideas, chaos, and charm. Her mind was too heated and jumbled. She needed to escape that constant sizzling feeling between her and Philip. She rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. Could one be hot and cold at the same time? If so, that was how Philip Merivale made her feel.
She hurried across the meadow behind the cottage, without any particular destination in mind. Her steps slowed when she reached the gate where the children had said they shouldn’t enter. The place where Katy said the people considered them riffraff.
Overcome with curiosity, she stepped into the entrance drive and walked up the avenue lined with chestnut trees.
After a few minutes of vigorous walking, the trees cleared and a mansion appeared. Thornton Hall. It didn’t exhibit the same kind of neoclassical pomp as Ashmore Hall, but it was sufficiently impressive. With turrets and towers of grey stone, it looked gothic and gloomy. The surrounding park was meticulously tended but had a soulless, deserted feeling, as if people had not been promenading there for a long time.
Arabella knew that it was common for housekeepers to give random guests a tour of the house if they asked for it. She decided that she would do precisely that.
The butler, who opened the door, looked as high in the instep as the butler at Ashmore Hall. Oh, but she knew how to deal with people like that. She’d done so her entire life. Arabella put on a sweet but slightly condescending smile.
