Love is an Archer

5. Hameldown

In its prime, Hameldown house was a country estate full of splendour and grace. The grounds upon which it sat were as green and verdant as Eden itself, surrounded by woodland and faced by a great lake upon which it was customary for the Cressley-Archers to invite their guests to boat. The house itself, meanwhile, made for a cosy wintery retreat and the hub of social activity in the summer, its sprawling ballroom illuminated by the grandest chandelier north of Versailles. During my time in attendance at many a seasonal event, this author has enjoyed the privilege of at least one playful summer evening being hosted at Hameldown – like most of the Ton, I too coveted an invitation to the Cressley-Archer ball, held towards the end of the season. For those attending on the arms of their matches, the ball was historically an opportunity to flaunt the successes and riches of the season; for those without, there was still a chance under the roof of the Cressley-Archers to set a more satisfying course for their romantic ventures.

Lady Callista Cressley-Archer – the esteemed matriarch of our protagonist's family – was famed for the quality of her events. In particular, the decoration drew much merit each year; this season's ball would be no exception. From the surrounding woodlands and gardens, Lady Callista had ordered wildflowers be plucked and dried at the start of the summer, so that by the time the week before the ball came forth, they had plentiful arrangements of dried flowers with which to adorn the tables.

Elsewhere, the gardeners had carefully sawed the heartiest of branches from nearby trees – the branches that could still sustain flowers and leaves days after their severance. The branches were hung high in the ballroom to give the impression of a forest canopy sprawling overhead, while also serving a second purpose: they obscured the nets filled with pale pink rose petals that would rain down upon the guests with the pull of a rope towards the end of the evening.

The combination of flowers – both dry and fresh – and branches and candles gave the room the exact scent that Lady Callista imagined when she stood in view of the summer sky on an evening late the previous August, when the sun had been waning and the warmth had drawn the floral scents from every corner of the garden. She had inhaled the moment, closed her eyes, felt the opulent blush of a fading sun against her skin, and decided that it would be captured, bottled, and replicated at the next Cressley-Archer late season ball.

Lady Callista had succeeded in her venture. Indeed, it was the first impression that greeted the Cressley-Archers' guests as they passed through the double doors of Hameldown, the siblings arm-in-arm and gasping in wonder.

"What a beautiful sight," Dickie said in awe, drawing attention from Tristan, who was just ahead with Lydia on his arm. Tristan turned back to thank Mr Barrows, noting that his sister's suitor had shorn his hair to a respectable length, and shaved his jaw clean to cast off any assumptions of being anything but the scion of a notable family. Clearly, he was intent on impressing; Tristan counted himself the first to feel such a way.

The foursome continued across the entrance, from which two grand staircases swept upwards on opposing sides, two swirling gusts of wind carrying the eye wherever they pleased. Beneath the staircases – and the landing upon which they joined – was another set of double doors, through which various servants and workmen passed in a steady formation. Lydia relinquished her grip on Tristan's arm and bounded through the door, taking her chance to slip in between a gardener and a harassed-looking maid.

"Is your sister already here?" Robin asked Tristan as he watched Lydia vanish into the ballroom on the other side of the doors. He turned his attention fully to his guests, noticing the glistening of sweat on Dickie's forehead from where the heavy summer heat was weighing upon him.

"She is, Miss Barrows. I believe she's just settling in and helping to prepare your rooms."

"How industrious. I am reminded of somebody else," Dickie said, smirking sideways in Robin's direction.