Maybe he could calm himself at his little house on the river. Its simple confines might help contain his restlessness. But without a stimulating subject to write about, he would still be in this frustrating situation .
Then he thought about Diana’s books. He had promised to read them and that might be just what he needed to distract himself from his own confusion. He went to his desk and picked up her first book, The Flowers of Farthingale .
He slipped the book into his coat pocket. He opened the doors from the library and headed down the path that led along the side of the lake. A fish jumped from a portion of the lake covered with lily pads where new lilies were just starting to bloom. He walked until he came to the Roman temple at the far end .
A gentle and warm early May breeze wafted through the pillars and Robert pulled up a comfortable chair, stretched out his legs, opened the book, and began to read .
It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon by the time he checked his pocket watch. How was that possible? He was nearly three-quarters through the book and had become so entranced, he read through lunch and it was now tea time .
He realized he was hungry and thirsty and headed back toward the house. But his mind was buzzing with the pleasant sensations he had experienced while reading .
Diana’s book was not a tale of adventure—but a tale of the heart. But it was far from boring as he thought it might be. It thrilled him. Rarely had he experienced such deep emotion, as he recognized Diana in the character of the heroine. It gave him even deeper insight into this marvelous woman whom he so admired and respected. He was proud that she was to be the face of his book .
But it set him to thinking about her book as opposed to his book. Would her readers accept his masculine adventure from the author of such a gentle and touching story as Flowers was? That gave him pause and he thought he ought to meet with her and discuss the disparity in their content and styles .
But first, he wanted to finish her book. He sat in his favorite chair in the library, as Sithens served him tea and scones, and lost himself once again in the rest of Diana’s book .
By the time he finished his tea he had also finished the book. He put it down on his lap and folded his hands resting them on the book .
Splendid. Simply splendid. His first thought was to dash over to Cambridge and corral Diana and pump her for information about her writing. But it was already late afternoon, and it would soon be suppertime at the Browning household. No. It would need to be another time .
But the reading had accomplished what he had hoped it would. He felt calmer and more at ease. His anxiety over his writing frustrations had lessened and he knew that he could be patient until he was ready to write again—even if it meant he would need to wait until he was able to travel .
Chapter 15
F inally, Diana had a clear morning of writing in front of her. No Adam. No Goodwin sisters. No Mother. No Father. All seemed to be occupied with their own tasks .
Diana reread what she had written on her Christmas story and picked up where she left off .
Mother came home from the mill exhausted as she usually was. On her way home, she had spent a few pennies on some cabbage, carrots and a few parsnips to make a soup for their supper. As usual, there would be no meat. However, a neighbor had given her several beef bones she could cook up into a broth as a base for the soup .
Tommy ran into the room with the happy news of his new job at the butcher’s and the promise of tripe for Christmas dinner .
“What a fine boy you are, Tommy,” Mother said as she patted his head. “It will be a very fine Christmas, indeed .”
Tommy threw himself on the bed beside his sister. He put his hand on her head .
“Are you sad?” he asked, whispering in her ear so mother would not hear .
Doris turned her head toward her brother and whispered back, “There was not a single tree to be had for the little I had saved .”
“You saved money?” Tommy asked in wonderment, not knowing about her selling flowers to fine ladies on the street until she told him what she had been doing .
“Maybe you could sell a few more before Christmas. Ladies love flowers at Christmas time,” he encouraged .
“I will try .”
Tommy was afraid he would not wake up in time to be at the butcher’s on time, so he ran a thread out the window by the bed and tied the far end to a pipe across the alley where Mrs. Cartwright always passed by in the morning on her way to work at the bakery. He knew she went to work at four o’clock. He tied the other end to his finger and hoped that when she passed down the alley she would break the thread, which would pull on his finger and wake him up .
He was sound asleep when his hand was violently yanked and he awoke. He heard the church bells ringing three and heard Mr. Cartwright returning home drunk and banging into the trash bins. Tommy had forgotten about Mrs. Cartwright’s drunk husband and now he dare not fall asleep again in case he not wake up in time to go to his new job .
There was an unexpected knocking at the front door and Diana was jerked out of her writing reverie .
“Oh bother,” she said, as she put down her pen and headed downstairs to see who was calling .
She threw open the door a little too forcefully and it knocked against the wall .
“Oh,” she exclaimed, as she was surprised to see Robert standing before her. “Did we have an appointment ?”
“We did not,” he said beaming. “But I read your first novel and I wanted to come and say how much I enjoyed it .
“You did?” she asked with some surprise .
“It is such a lovely May morning. Come, let us take a walk in your meadow. I should like to talk to you about it .”
“Well…” she hesitated .
“Oh, I have interrupted your writing, have I not? I am so sorry .”
“Robert, no. It is quite all right. I can use a break anyway,” she lied. “But yes, it is a lovely morning .”
Diana had to admit to herself that she was a little thrilled that Robert had liked her book. She had not expected him to. She grabbed a shawl from a peg in the front hall and closed the door behind her .
“I must stop by the gallery to let Mother know I shall be out if she comes looking for me .”
Diana opened the gallery, and the little bell rang .
“I am going walking with the Earl .”
“Very well, dear,” Mother responded .
Robert waved to Mrs. Browning and then the two of them headed down the street toward the meadow .
“As part of my duties as the local Earl, I host a local fete each June. Might we stop by to see your Sinclair friends? I should like to invite you and them to be my honored guests that afternoon. Sort of honorary lords and ladies of the fete, if you will .”
Diana laughed. “Oh, my. The Sinclair twins as lords of the fete? That should be a sight. Now if you were inviting them to be honorary clowns I might understand .”
They came to the stile, crossed over and began walking. The field was filled with new spring flowers and Diana stooped to pick some as they leisurely walked along the path .