Free Jane Austen’s First Love by Syrie James Page B

to spend all his time in the gun-room now, ever since he had that billiard-table installed. I really do not understand the appeal of—”
    Although her ladyship continued speaking, the balance of her declaration was lost to me, for my full attention was captured by the sight of Edward Taylor within the chamber in question. As he leaned over the billiard-table with his cue, with his gleaming auburn hair casually falling over his forehead, and his dark eyes scrutinizing his shot, the picture he presented was so visually arresting, that I could not prevent myself from pausing in the doorway to watch. With a mighty crack, he struck one of the balls with his cue. Although I was unfamiliar with the rules of the game, from the enthusiastic reactions of the others, I deduced him to be skilled at the sport.
    “Sir Brook!” commanded Lady Bridges. “You promised these children a tour of the gardens.”
    “Forgive me, boys.” Sir Brook reluctantly put down his cue. “I trust you can find a way to play on without me.”
    Edward Taylor bowed; as he glanced in my direction, I perceived a smile. Was it meant for me? As I turned to follow my group across the hall, the memory of that smile and those beautiful dark eyes made my heart beat like a drum, and I looked forward to the time, later that evening, when I knew I should see him again.

Chapter the Sixth
    T he park that you see before you
used
to be formal gardens, in that old, traditional style,” said Lady Bridges as we crossed the great lawn behind the house. “I insisted that Sir Brook tear it out as soon as we took possession.”
    “It was a pretty thing,” said Sir Brook with a regretful sigh. “It put one in the mind of Versailles.”
    “Precisely why we were obliged to do away with it! It was
so
out of fashion,” cried Lady Bridges. “I could not bear all those paths which crossed back and forth, or the tightly manicured flower-beds, with the trees and shrubs sculpted into unnatural shapes.”
    “Our re-landscaped park is ever so much more stylish and picturesque,” agreed Elizabeth.
    “I am sure it is a pleasant place to walk on a fine morning,” enthused I, appreciating the natural look of the landscape, which I favoured; yet I could not help but feel a pang for the poor, departed, formal gardens, which had no doubt required great effort and expense to design and install, and whose inhabitants, due to the whims of a changing taste, had met with such an untimely end.
    As we followed a curving path to another part of the grounds, Lady Bridges described with pride every plant and shrub along the way. We passed through a wooden gate in an ivy-covered wall, and to my delight emerged into a large, enclosed garden, in which a verdant lawn was bordered by a riot of colourful flowers. Through a distant opening in the high brick walls I perceived the entrance to another garden, and beyond that, yet another; farther on stood the graceful stone tower of the church.
    “This is the first of three walled gardens, each of which leads into the other,” explained Lady Bridges. “We have an excellent fruit orchard—quite the best fruit-trees in the country!—and our strawberry beds are superior to anybody’s in the kingdom, and celebrated for their variety and quality. The flower garden dates back to Elizabethan times, and the wisteria and roses are remarkable, for they are imported from the Far East.”
    I wondered what made roses from the Far East particularly remarkable; did they emit a more potent fragrance than roses native to our country, or did they come in a different size or hue? I was saved from posing any such impertinent questions by Sir Brook’s experiencing a sudden coughing fit. Lady Bridges insisted that we retrace our steps in the direction of the house, where our hosts said they would rest before dinner. As they disappeared within, Marianne made a reappearance, and we ladies decided to take a turn in the park.
    “We are so glad to have this interval to