Authors: Beth Trissel
“Yes, she is
.
This is our new assistant, Miss Julia Morrow
.
Julia, this is Paul
Henshaw
.
Paul’s a big help to
Joe in the garden, aren’t you?
”
Will said in the pat
ient tone one used with the dull
-witted.
Taking the hint, Julia bestowed a smile on Paul
.
She wouldn’t ha
ve noticed the nondescript figure
if he hadn’t summoned her.
Scarcely
any taller than she
,
his thin face
dripped with sweat, and he
badly needed a haircut.
Scraggly
brown locks
stuck
to his forehead and his
neck.
The bilious
green shirt and pants he wore li
ke a uniform hung on him
.
The only feature
that caught her atte
ntion was
his tawny
tiger-eyes
,
like finding an exotic orchid in a patch of dandelions.
Her innate sympathy w
ent out to him
and she
extended
her hand. “I’m glad to meet you Paul.
Please call me Julia.”
He
grasped her
fingers in his
grubby
paw
.
“YYY
––
Y
ou’re like the lady in the
picture
.”
S
he cocked her head at him
.
“What picture is that?
”
Will shrugged his lack of knowledge.
“YYY
––
Y
ou’ll see.”
A feline
intensity entered Paul’s
yellowish-brown eyes.
“TTT
––
T
hat Lyle
man
said something bad
about
yyy
––
you
.”
“It’s OK, Paul.
I’m sure
Mr.
McChesney didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.”
“HHH
––
H
e
wants you for
hhh
––
himself,” Paul insisted.
Julia
had no idea what to say
.
Giving
the
awkward youth a pat on his non
existent shoulders, Will interjected,
“Don’t worry, Paul.
W
e’ll take good care of Miss Morrow, won’t we?
”
Paul nodded.
His rapt gaze never left Julia and made her squirm.
“Why don’t you take your
break now,
Paul?
Go get one of those orange sodas
you like from the rest station.
”
Will nudged
Julia
toward the steps.
“Bye, Paul
.
”
She
moun
ted the three brick tiers beside
Will.
“Poor fellow.
You’re kind to employ him.
He seems terribly slow.”
“
He is
,
a
nd he
isn’t.
Paul
learns quickly, has a memory like an elephant.”
“Where does he live?”
“In a run
do
wn trailer with his grandmother
.
Paul’s father took off
after
his
conception,
his mother
soon
after
his
birth
.
Grandma
feeds him junk
and lets him roam the countryside
.
He frightened the life out of some pe
ople appearing in their yards.
After a stint in
Juvie
,
S
ocial services approached me
this spring
about
offering him
part time
work
.
Joe
gives him a ride and
welcome
s
his help in the garden.
Dave tolerates him.
”
“So you
h
ave
three
grounds men
counting Paul
, Lyle laying brick, Charlotte and her husband giving tou
rs of the house
.
Any other employees
I should be aware of
?”
“Another brick mason, Ron Brown
, also does carpentry
.
His
s
isters, Ruth and Evelyn
,
sell tickets for th
e house
and run the gift shop.
Both can do tours in a pinch
.
T
hat’s the staff, counting yo
u.
I cut back in the off season
.”
Julia
squinted up at Will
in the bright sunshine
.
H
ow blindingly
handsome he was
.
“Will you cut me?”
“Do you want to stay on?”
“More than anything, b
ut my parents would have fits.”
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”
“You’re so sensible. I wish I
were
.
”
Julia
was more like the wind
and he the sturdy rock she blew around.
“Life has a way of working out.”
Will
step
ped through the impressive
carved
door
way
into the house.
He swept her
up the passage
way
and into the great hall. Giving a wave to Charlotte and the next tour, he passed through
the assembly
and escorted
Julia
up the
superb
c
urved staircase
.
A sea
of eyes followed their
progress
ion
.
She envied Will’s
elegance
. There was a
natural
grace to his movements that seemed to elude
her.
At least she didn’t trip.
He strode with her down the upstairs hall, past his bedroom, the bathroom, kitchen, living
room and stopped
at the end of
the m
ain passage.
“Here we are.”
The steps
leading to the third level
were
steep
and dimly lit
.
Gesturing
her ahead
of him
, he said,
“Watch yourself
.”
S
he
mounted
carefully
with Will
climbing
just behind to catch her if she fell. She could almost
envision
herself
ascending
a castle turret
, and
stopped before
an aged wooden door
.
“
Allow me. It’s stubborn,
” he said, and reached past her to close his fingers
around the brown marble knob.
He pushed the door open
,
hinges creaking slightly. “Need to oil those.”
Eager to explore
, she
walked
into the
spacious
room
overhung
wit
h broad rafters.
Tiny
dust
motes floated in the light streaming
through the
dormer
windows.
S
he cast her eyes over the array of
trunks
, some leather-bound, others
wooden with inlaid tops, and all
fastened
with iron locks
.
Drop cloths shielded other
intriguing shapes
.
What
a thrill
to be
among the relics
hidden
away
up here
, laden with a
musty scent of bygone days and the faint spiciness of
the
dried herbs
hanging
in bunches from the
darkened
beams overhead
.
“Will, it’s splendid
!
Who knows what we’ll discover.
Have you the keys to these trunks?
”
He
smiled.
“Of cou
rse I know where the keys are.
What kind of lord of the manor would I be without them?”
“Actually, I believe the lady of the manor wore them at her waist on a chatelaine.”
“Trust you to know that. And she wasn’t the only one with access to
the
keys.”
He directed h
er searching eyes to one corner of the treasure trove
.
“Try that rack of costumes first.”
Dodging trunks and boxes, Julia
darted to the spot he indic
ated and snatched away the dusty
shroud.
A collec
tion of period
costumes
emerged. A
pale blue
muslin
dress
with a high waist,
square-necked bodice
edged in
lace
, and capped sleeves
caught her eye.
“This frock
is like something out of Jane
Auste
n
, the early Regency period.”
She
glanced up at him in sudden realization. “The time of Julia Maury.”
He arched an eyeb
row at her.
“Have you studied nineteenth century fashion plates
, as well
?”
“No.
But I’ve seen
Pride and Prejudice
.
”
“Can’t say as I caught that flick
.”
S
he returned her
spellbound
attention to
the velvet jacket
hanging beside
the gown.
The waistline also met just bene
ath the bust
and
was styled with a
smooth front, fairl
y high neck, and long sleeves.
“I believe this is a spencer.”
Next in line
was a ladies cloak
of green velvet, with bishop's sleeves, trimmed
with black lace
.
“Wha
t a lovely pelisse.” She fingered
the green mantle.
“And so beautifully made.
Are all
of
these clothes reproductions?”
“Not all.
A few are
vintage.”
“Marvelous.”
Her
eyes
fell
on a
gorgeous white muslin ball gown
with a high waist, capped sleeves
,
and embroidered
white on
white
train.
It resembled a bridal gown
.
Mor
e frocks
followed
like a stream of colorful
leaves.
“This is a walking
dress.
”
She nodded
at a dress of cambric muslin overhung with an embroidered mantle
.
Touching
a simple white frock paire
d with a plum-colored spencer, she said,
“And t
his is a
day dress.”
“Couldn’t you walk in either?”
She smile
d
and shifted her admiration to a
lavender
gown of
luxurious silken
sarsenet
with a long train, trimmed down
the front and round the bottom in point lace
,
paired with a
violet silk
shawl
.
“
Now this is f
ull evening dress.”