“Does your aunt have any children, Sir James? Jepson is an unusual name, and I met a young man of that surname in Bath a little while ago.”

“Yes, Miss Maitland, I have three cousins. Patrick is the youngest; his two elder sisters are both married and living some distance away now.”

On the way back to Morancourt, Mr. Hatton said, “Why did you ask whether my aunt had any children?”

Julia thought quickly. “As I said, Jepson seems rather an unusual name.”

Mr. Hatton gave her a long look, and Julia realised that he was well aware that she had not told him the whole story, but he didn’t question her anymore.

Eight

The rest of that day was rather wet, and Julia spent most of the evening with her aunt. They jointly composed a letter to Emily Brandon, for she was due to return to Cressborough Castle within the next few days. From that activity, her aunt moved on to ask about more details of the Brandon family, but fortunately Mr. Hatton had left them by that time to attend to some business in his study, so that Julia did not have to take too much care in what she said.

The next day was Friday, and Mr. Hatton proposed that he and Julia should take the carriage to Eggardon Hill, an earthwork some distance to the east of Morancourt that was thought to be very old, and from which he said fine views could be obtained.

The journey did not take too long. Mr. Hatton explained that the farm there below Eggardon Hill was reputed to have been bought at the end of the previous century by one of the most successful smugglers in Dorset, Isaac Gulliver. A group of trees was said to have been planted on the hilltop to act as a beacon for ships coming along the Channel to bring contraband goods ashore.

“That was what Mr. Henry Hatton told me when I was young, but I don’t know whether it’s true. The Gulliver family may still own the farm, and I thought that it might be useful to have a look, although we can pretend that we have just come to observe the scenery.”

This, thought Julia, is much more interesting than sitting at home in Derbyshire doing needlework, or reading a book in my father’s library.

As though being aware of her thoughts, Mr. Hatton said, “It might be very dangerous if we encounter the wrong people, so please do be careful what you say if we should meet anyone.”

However, when they had left the carriage at the end of the track and walked up to the highest point, at first they found only the stumps of a group of trees, and visible in the distance at a lower level, there was an old farmhouse, which seemed to be defended by a group of barking dogs. Mr. Hatton did not venture in that direction, but pointed out to Julia various landmarks that could be seen from the vantage point, including a wide panorama of the coastline.

It was as they turned to walk back to the carriage that they found a broad-shouldered man of middle height and with sparse grey hair standing on the path some distance ahead, looking directly at them. As they came closer, Julia could see that his coat was of good quality, buttoned high against the wind, and his hands were well kept, as though he was not used to manual labour.

“Good day to you, sir,” he said in a local accent, entering into conversation with Mr. Hatton and introducing himself as the priest from the village church in Burton Bradstock. He acknowledged some acquaintance with the Lindsay family, and after some time Mr. Hatton turned the discussion adroitly towards the subject of smuggling.

“Don’t you believe everything that you have heard about Isaac Gulliver, sir. He is in late middle age now, but was never a dangerous or violent man, just very skilful at his trade. It is some of those others in a new group operating closer to Bridport who are causing more trouble now.”

Julia took more interest in the conversation at this point, since Mr. Hatton’s expression remained calm and apparently disinterested.

“Why is that?” she asked.

“They seem to be in a hurry to make a lot of money very quickly, Miss, and I’ve heard that anyone getting in their way can find that they get a very sore head for their pains!”

“Oh! I see.”

“And they are going for the very valuable fancy stuff, wines and silks—not tobacco or any of the other goods that sell so well around here.” The stranger suddenly recollected himself and changed the subject, inquiring where Mr. Hatton and his lady companion had come from. Mr. Hatton made a noncommittal reply, and shortly afterwards, they parted, with the priest making his way on towards the top of the hill.

After Mr. Hatton had handed her back into the carriage, Julia remarked that she had noticed that all the tracks visible from the top of the hill had seemed to be very well used.

“Yes,” said Mr. Hatton, “and I wonder who by—our new acquaintance, perhaps?”

“Do you mean that he was not the priest, but a smuggler?”

“Perhaps it doesn’t matter, Miss Maitland. But it was interesting what he said about a new group near Bridport. I think I shall make some discreet enquiries of James Lindsay tomorrow.”

In their absence, Dr. Bulman had called to see Aunt Lucy, and the news was good. If her ankle continued to improve, she could consider returning home in a few days’ time.

Julia had almost forgotten about the social event to which Lady Lindsay had invited her on Saturday evening, but Aunt Lucy definitely had not. Although she was not as managing as Julia’s mother, she did ask her niece all the details of what she was proposing to wear, including which dress, which shoes, and which jewellery.

On the following evening, Martha was summoned to dress Julia’s curls in a fashionable style, and all the fussing over her appearance caused her to think that the enjoyment of the evening might be destroyed. However, the pleasure of descending the stairs at Morancourt and finding Mr. Hatton waiting for her in the hall also wearing his best hinted at the delights to come.

Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her golden-brown hair was complemented by the colour of her new dress and the handsome necklace that Aunt Lucy had suggested that she should borrow for the evening.

“May I say, Miss Maitland, that you are looking particularly fine this evening?”

“Not ‘very overdressed,’ as you once remarked about some young ladies in Bath, sir?”

He laughed at the recollection, and said, “No, definitely not, Miss Maitland!”

The journey to Beaminster did not seem to take very long, and there they found Lady Lindsay and the rest of her party waiting for them. They ascended to the upper rooms, where a local band was playing a lively jig for the assembled company. Sir James immediately invited Julia to take the floor with him, and he proved to be a good dancer, with a light step and amusing conversation.

“My cousin Patrick often comes to this kind of assembly when he is at home, but he sent a message to my aunt to say that he had been detained.”

“What does your cousin do, Sir James?” Julia said. “Does he manage the family estate, or is he in the army?”

“Neither, Miss Maitland. His father, my uncle by marriage, is still alive and well and in charge of his estate, but he does not often travel to visit us; Mrs. Jepson comes on her own. I’m not sure where my cousin goes. I know that he gets a reasonable allowance from his father, but he was not particularly interested in book learning at school, so did not go to university. I assume that he spends a good part of his time in town.”

All that accords, thought Julia, with what I know already about Mr. Jepson. And maybe he is getting short of money for the same reasons as Dominic Brandon is, too much gambling and high living. That reminded her to ask another question.

“Have you heard of the Brandon family, Sir James? I am friendly with their cousin Emily, who lives with them in Derbyshire.”

“No, I believe not, but Derbyshire is a long way from here, as you will agree. How is my friend Kit finding his new role as Master of Morancourt? He has seemed very contented since he came into his inheritance last month.”

“You know him so much better than I, sir, but it must be a pleasure to find yourself in a situation that you might only have dreamt of previously.”

She then asked Sir James whether he was keen on hunting, for she had heard mention of the South Dorset and the Cattistock as being famous packs of foxhounds in South Dorset.

“That’s true, Miss Maitland. You are well informed. Both hunts are currently led by Squire Farquharson. I do hunt, when I have time, but I’m not so sure that Kit will do so, since he would be better to avoid injuring his leg again. From what he has told me, it is his brother Jack who prefers hunting.”

Julia was about to agree when she remembered that Sir James did not know that she had ever met Jack Douglas, or indeed his father.

“Does anyone in your family hunt in Derbyshire, Miss Maitland?”

“No. My father used to, with my elder brother. But Papa is not well enough now.” She could not go on, but found that she did not need to.

“I was very sorry to hear from Kit that your brother was killed at Badajoz,” he said gravely.

She thanked him for his sentiments, but by this time the dance was coming to an end, and Mr. Hatton came forward to claim her hand for the next.

He was regarding her with an amused expression and, sure enough, he wanted to know why Julia had been questioning his friend with such persistence. She told him what Sir James had said about his cousin Patrick.

“I didn’t think, Miss Maitland, that Mrs. Jepson seemed to be a particularly alert person. Although I had visited the Lindsays several times whilst I was at school with James, I had not met her before. If Patrick Jepson is like her, he may not be very exciting company.”