Page 62 of Times Four Maybe that was something that I should remember to do because Lord Henry has certainly taken care of everything else. He is a brilliant tactician. Perhaps William is right, predicting that this young man would one day be made a Field Marshall. I pause, forgetting to hand Miss Patricia another flower as I am caught up in the beauty of a new idea. “Sally?” queries Miss Patricia softly, so I apologize and keep handing her flowers, stem by stem, as my brain plans another Gretna elopement. After all, Miss Patricia was talking about just that when I first entered the church. I am willing to wager my best china teapot on that, I am so sure. It is only the Vicar’s scruples that prevent their wedding, and surely Lord Henry will encourage David to put his doubts aside and follow Lord Henry’s example. I remember with glee that the Vicar came to our parish because of Lord Henry’s influence. Lord Henry serves with those older brothers of the Vicar in the Army and is friendly with them all, but most especially with the oldest brother James who often visits Lord Henry. It will be natural now for Lord Henry to take a hand in this romance and after all, what else can the Vicar do? We do not have a spare Vicar around to marry our Vicar to his bride. This is a perfect plan, and my William can provide the coach and the horses. When Mrs. Adams finally leaves I am in such a hurry to get back to William to warn him to have a carriage and four good horses ready, that I forgot to put water in the vase for my poor misused flowers. Thankfully Lord Henry remembers, as Patricia confides to me later that night at the inn before she and her Vicar leave for Gretna Green. William and I are very amused when we imagine Lord Henry calmly pouring water into that vase crammed willy-nilly with my flowers, as he talks sense to the Vicar. As I snuggle down beside William into the comfort of our bed, I think sleepily that Lord Henry really is a competent leader as well as being a sweet young man and smile to myself at how well my nursling has developed as I drift into sleep. On the road again I came back to this time laughing at Lord Henry’s clever management of what could have been a grievous discovery. That clever young man manipulated us all like puppets, until he achieved the best possible outcome. My belief up to now was that the nursemaid Sally stage-manages what happens in that sleepy village in the 19th century, but really it is the Lord Henry who has his finger on the pulse of village life. I suspect that the Sally of that time, clever though she is, is also only another one of Henry’s puppets. She just has not realised it, because Henry is so sweet. Just like our Harry, I realise. I had named our Harry well, as I acknowledge that our Harry does manage both Bill and me as adroitly as he manages his now large staff, in our now booming family business.
Posted on: Thu, 06 Mar 2014 00:42:04 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015