Free The Land of Summer by Charlotte Bingham Page B

first place he’ll be taking you to will be your future home, and about time too, I expect you will be feeling by then!’
    In fact, true to form, Julius did not put in an appearance the following day, nor indeed the day after, finally showing his face after dinner on the Saturday evening. During the intervening period, however, on the advice of the good Mrs Shannon, Emmaline made splendid use of his lack of attention by walking about Bamford and getting to appreciate the feel of it, before returning to the comfort of Mrs Shannon’s lodging house, not to mention her splendid home cooking.
    ‘It is the way of men, you know, dear,’ Mrs Shannon told her at one point. ‘Before they marry they can’t see any reason to think of the feelings of others, let alone the girl they are to wed. Mr Shannon did at least turn up at the church, but I always think my father had something to do with that.’ She gave a rich laugh. ‘There’s nothing like having a father who is a gunsmith to get a man to the church on time!’
    At last there was Julius, looking tall and handsome, and beautifully dressed, reminding Emmaline exactly why she had consented to come to England to marry him. And yet, divine-looking though he might be, and fine though his manners undoubtedly were, nevertheless, deep down inside, she could not help feeling bewildered.
    ‘Was there no way of getting word to me that you had perhaps been delayed?’ Emmaline quietly enquired when they sat on either side of the fire in Mrs Shannon’s drawing room after Julius’s unannounced arrival, with Mrs Shannon placed discreetly at a table in the bay of the window playing a hand of cards with another of her guests. ‘It really is so strange not to know from one moment to the next what I may or may not be doing.’
    ‘Is that so? I am most apologetic,’ Julius replied, staring at the toes of his highly polished shoes. ‘Does this place not suit you, Emma?’
    ‘It suits me admirably, truly it does. But its suitability has nothing to do with your manners, Julius.’ Emmaline looked round discreetly to make sure her landlady was not visibly eavesdropping. ‘This is a very comfortable establishment and I am more than perfectly suited here, thank you.’
    ‘Then what is the cause of your unease, I wonder?’
    ‘The cause of my unease is that I am seemingly without purpose, Julius. As far as I can see I could well be sitting here waiting for you to arrive or not to arrive indefinitely, until the end of the world, until God himself appears on a cloud.’
    ‘I see.’ Julius nodded, tightened his mouth and breathed in slowly and deeply, before rising from his chair. ‘Perhaps your mind may become easier tomorrow when we attend church and the banns are read. I shall be here to collect you in plenty of time, have no fear. So until then, Emma, I bid you farewell.’
    He leaned forward to take her hand and shake it, but then, with a quick look at the window, he raised his fingers and once again touched her cheek, a look of sudden longing coming into his eyes.
    They walked to the church in company with what appeared to Emmaline to be the entire population of the town, all dressed in their Sunday best. On arrival, Julius and Emmaline were shown to the Aubrey family pew, one of a select number of box pews set to one side of the nave at right angles to the rest of the congregation, who were taking their places under the supervision of the churchwardens. Every seat in the large building was filled, the overspill having to stand at the back. To Emmaline’s surprise, and somewhat to her dismay, Matins was celebrated by the Reverend Archibald Welton, who, it transpired, had been invited to Hartley Abbey by the Earl and Countess of Parham in the mistaken belief that, coming from the same town, Julius must find their old friend as congenial as they did. Emmaline noticed that he adopted a completely different voice from the one he had used – albeit sparingly – over dinner at Hartley