Without a Summer Read Online Free PDF

corners of his mouth turned down in disdain at the mistake. “We shall have to pull all of these out. Unless there is something you wish to keep?”
    The tone of his voice left no doubt that he assumed that good taste would not allow them to keep any of the current glamour. Lord and Lady Stratton hastened to assure him that they wanted the room completely refashioned.
    Jane studied the balcony and made notes as they went. In the course of their examination, they discovered that there was a door leading off the back of the balcony onto a servants’ hall. The challenge with such things was to mask them in a manner that allowed one to find them again—a trick that the previous glamourist had also not employed.
    For the next quarter hour, they talked over the broader points of the design, defining the ideas that they had put forth in their correspondence. The glamural was to create the illusion of a forest creeping into the ballroom. Rather than attempting to fully mask the room, this would cause it to appear that the wood panelling on the walls was reverting to its natural state. Branches would spring forth from between panels. The frames of the windows would resemble twisted vines, and tremble with verdant greenery, even in winter. Throughout the whole, songbirds would perch and flit, and in some cases fly in arcs across the ceiling.
    After agreeing upon the general plan, Jane and Vincent left the Stratton household. As soon as they were in the carriage, Jane said, “Do you know what I was thinking?”
    “That the previous glamourist should be drawn and quartered? Using nœuds de vache for tying off? No wonder everything was unravelling.” Vincent drew the curtains and put his arm around her shoulders.
    “I agree with you there, but I was thinking of a different matter.” Jane could not expect his thoughts to always run in the same vein as hers. She snuggled into his warmth, tucking her hands inside his coat front. “I was thinking that we should introduce Melody to their son when he arrives.”
    “Eh? Why?”
    “He might be a good match.”
    “I am surprised that you think so.”
    “It is true that I have yet to meet the young man, but with his age and situation, it is at least a possibility.”
    Vincent peered down at her. “The fact that they are Irish Catholics does not trouble you?”
    Jane pushed away from him, all astonishment. “What can you mean? Irish Catholic? They have no accents, no brogue. Nothing aside from Lady Stratton’s red hair could mark them so.”
    “Beyond the crucifix in the library and their name, you mean?” Vincent peeked through the curtains, which showed a glimpse of Whitehall. “As for the accent, the sons of Irish nobility that I went to school with had the brogue beaten out of them.”
    “But what about their name? Stratton is not a particularly Irish name, I think.”
    “He is Baron Conall O’Brien of Stratton.”
    Doubtful, Jane tried again. “I do not recall a crucifix.”
    “It hung on the right wall of the library, near the door. It is possible that only I saw it because you were on my right, so I faced that direction, while you faced the windows.” Vincent shrugged. “You may look when we return.”
    “No … no, I believe you.” She frowned, considering. “Do we need to ask them for payment in advance?”
    “What? Why?”
    “Well … you said they were Irish. I thought there might be concern about payment.”
    Vincent laughed. “No more so than with any other nobleman. In my experience, Irishmen are more prompt with payment than others, because they are aware of their reputation.” He kissed the top of her head. “Do not fret about that.”
    In spite of Vincent’s assurances, Jane was hesitant to recommend an Irishman and a Catholic to her sister’s attention. Even if she were not concerned that a Papist would place loyalty to Rome over England, the Irish reputation for being dissipated was too well known to be entirely unfounded. Still, she would have