Grace Hardie Read Online Free Page A

Gordon at the same moment that the unkempt state of the land might give a wrong impression, he came to a halt and waited for the other two to catch up before making an announcement. ‘My wife,’ he said to Mr Faraday, ‘is a granddaughter of the late Marquess of Ross. She expects the best.’
    Midge, glancing at her companion, saw his eyes flicker with surprise, and was able to read his thoughts. Presumably he already had some idea for the kind of house which would be suitable for a vintner in a prosperous way of business. But a family connection of a marquess …! Any architect would be familiar with at least the outside appearance of the great house at Castlemere. No doubt Mr Faraday’s head was now swimming with visions of a masterpiece on a palatial scale. A Palladian villa, a Jacobean manor house, a French château? Terraces, double staircases rising from marble entrance halls, libraries and ballrooms and dining rooms to seat fifty guests. His unconscious sigh gave all his hopes away.
    Gordon was as quick as his sister to realize the effect of what he had said. ‘Within reason, of course,’ he added.
    â€˜Of course.’ Mr Faraday took any disappointment like a man. ‘The slope has a south-west aspect. You’ll want tobuild well below the brow of the hill, I imagine, to give the house protection from northerly winds.’
    Gordon shook his head. ‘Come just a little higher,’ he said.
    Midge and the architect joined him at a point from which it was possible to survey the whole generous parcel of land. Seen from above, the grassy slope which they had just climbed gave the impression that it had once been terraced, but that over several hundred years the contours of the flat strips had been blunted by rain and wind. For the first time, too, she could see the movement of water running along the valley at the foot of the woodlands. ‘Is the stream yours?’ she asked.
    â€˜Yes. And the flatter area on its further side, towards the city. Now then.’ Gordon turned towards the architect and pointed down towards a place where the ground appeared to have been scooped away, creating an area of grassland flat enough to suggest that it had provided the base for some earlier habitation, perhaps many centuries ago.
    â€˜I’ve no doubt you see that as the ideal position for the house,’ he said, ‘And so it would be – for any house except the one which is to be built for the benefit of my daughter’s health. She is to live not less than three hundred feet above sea level. The terms of the trust are specific on this. So we must build here, above this beech tree.’
    â€˜Are there any other special requirements?’ The architect was careful not to sound critical.
    â€˜I suggest that a design to enclose three sides of a courtyard would be particularly suitable. We have five children, and there may be more. They could have a wing to themselves, instead of merely a nursery floor. The little girl, Grace, must have a room of her own facing as nearly south as possible. The entertaining rooms could face west, to catch the evening sun, whilst a north aspect would keepthe kitchen quarters cool and provide the best light for a studio. My wife is a talented painter.’
    â€˜And for yourself, Gordon?’ asked Midge, knowing that he devoted all his free time to experiments in plant propagation.
    â€˜I shall require a glasshouse – separate from the ones to be used by the gardeners – and a plant room and study next to it. None of that needs to be part of the main house. They could be lower down the hill.’
    â€˜To keep you away from the hurly-burly!’ laughed Midge. Spending all her life surrounded by children, she was well aware of the noise they made. She and her brother watched as the architect studied the sun and the land, seeming almost to sniff the air as he tried to get the feel of the atmosphere before taking out his