‘He doesn’t exactly go out of his way to endear himself to others, does he?’
‘As I said before, he’s a sociopath; he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him.’
‘Do you feel nothing for him? Not even a scrap of affection?’
‘If you want my honest opinion, I despise him. Sometimes I look at him and wish he’d just do us all a favour and die. Oh, don’t look so shocked. I’m sure there are plenty of people here this evening who would wish the same thing.’
‘Julia and your stepbrother might think differently.’
Ralph scoffed. ‘Julia is nothing but a slave to him. Do you know, I found her this afternoon taking an inventory of all the food in the kitchen and pantry. Apparently, Dad makes her do that on a weekly basis to make sure nobody is stealing from him. What’s more, she has to mend his clothes and iron his shirts. Have you ever heard of anything more demeaning?’
‘The poor woman.’
They both looked across the crowded dance floor to where Julia was standing alone andglum-faced.
‘I feel sorry for her,’ said Isabella. ‘So much so, I’m going over to talk to her, seeing as nobody else is.’
Ralph held onto Isabella. ‘Not before you’ve promised to let me take you for dinner next week when we’re back in London.’
‘Tell you what,’ she said after a moment’s hesitation, ‘if you agree to dance with Julia and put a smile on her face, you can.’
He frowned and was about to say Julia was the last woman he wanted to be seen dancing with when he thought of his Plan B. ‘You’re on,’ he said.
ChapterTwenty-Six
Meadow Lodge, Melstead St Mary
October 1962
Julia
‘Stop, Ralph, you’re making me dizzy!’
‘Stop when we’re having so much fun, stepmother dearest? Nonsense!’
The band was playing a lively jive number and as Ralph spun Julia round again and again, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. How different to the way she had been feeling before, standing on the edge of the dance floor in the marquee with nobody to talk to. She had always been a wallflower when it came to these social occasions, and so she had been grateful to Ralph when he had asked her to dance. Even if it had been an offer made out of pity.
‘See,’ he said with a charming smile as they continued dancing, ‘you didn’t mean it when you told me to stop.’
‘But I’m afraid I’ll fall over and make a spectacle of myself,’ she said with another giggle.
He winked. ‘Then you’d better hold on tight so that doesn’t happen!’
When the music did come to a stop, and with her head spinning, Ralph suggested he fetch them both another cooling drink. He led her off the dance floor and went in search of a waitress, leaving her to worry that the punch she had already drunk had gone to her head a little. While she waited for him to return, she caught her breath and tried to locate Arthur amongst the crowd.
She felt guilty that she was having such a good time without him, and he’d gone to so much trouble to buy her this new dress for the evening. It wasn’t really to her liking – the colour was wrong for her pale complexion, and the style made her feel matronly compared to all the other women here. They must think her dreadfully plain and dowdy. She longed to wear something dazzling, or even daring like some of the young girls here, but then she never had before, so why did she think she could now? She had been brought up to dress and act modestly, never to draw attention to herself.
It was one of the things that Arthur said he liked about her, her natural propensity for humility. He said she was very different to his previous wives who he described as vainshow-offs who cared for nothing but their appearance, an attitude he couldn’t abide. It explained why he had such definite ideas on how she should dress.
‘You’re mistress of Melstead Hall,’ he would say, ‘so you need to dress appropriately, not like those young tarts in the village.’
This was why she knew there was no truth in that malicious rumour she’d once heard in the village, that Arthur had forced himself on one of their maids. He simply wasn’t the type of man to chase after young girls. Probably it was the other way round, the maid had thrown herself at him and he’d firmly rebuffed her. Maybe it was the same girl who had sent Julia that anonymous letter.
‘There you go,’ Ralph said, back with her now and passing her a glass that was full to the brim. ‘Bottoms up!’
‘I mustn’t monopolise you,’ she said, after she’d taken a sip of the sweet liquid, taking care not to spill it down her new dress. ‘Not when you should be dancing with girls your own age.’
‘Time for that later,’ he said. ‘For now I want to make you laugh some more. You know, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this jolly. You always give the impression of being so serious.’
