Page 10 of Loyalty (The Chaplain’s Legacy #5)
T his conversation powerfully affected Kent. If he were to have any chance of marrying Katherine, then he needed to be the kind of man she wanted… the kind she deserved, and honesty compelled him to admit that he fell short in several aspects. Praying… he did not pray nearly enough, or go to church very often. In fact, since Nicholson had died and his little services in the castle chapel had ceased, Kent had rarely attended church at all. In that, he was no different from many others of his class, and no one thought any the worse of him for it. Except Katherine, of course. Perhaps her religious bent was a little too zealous, but it would do him no harm to improve his own observances.
As for honesty and integrity… he thought he was as honest as most people. He did not lie or cheat, he was respectful towards women, and he treated servants and tradesmen fairly. At this point the smuggling enterprise rose unbidden in his mind, and how easy it was to justify in his own mind! Yes, it was not strictly legal, but, as Eustace tirelessly pointed out, everyone benefited by it. The gentry and local inns were supplied with good, cheap brandy, the smugglers themselves made a little money from it and only the Excise men lost out by way of collecting a little less duty than they should have done. So he reasoned with himself, and ruthlessly suppressed the twinges of conscience that assailed him now and then.
And it was fun, he had to admit that. There was little enough for an active young man to do, so remote as Corland was situated, so how could he resist the chance for a little excitement now and then, with the added amusement of putting one over on the Excise men. If he could not go to Birmingham and learn about engines, then he would just have to find entertainment nearer to home.
Besides, just now he had no inclination to leave home at all. His rides with Katherine, and the delicate business of drawing her out of her shell and wondering whether he should marry her, kept any regrets for Birmingham at bay. And since Olivia had taken up the idea of a dinner with dancing afterwards, Kent was determined to show Katherine off to advantage in front of his father.
“I shall see you on Friday night, of course,” he said casually one day as they drew near to Birchall again after a ride.
“Friday night?”
“This dinner that Olivia is organising. The Cathcarts are invited… everyone for miles around is invited.”
“Oh, that. I was invited, but I have declined.”
“Declined? But why? There will be no one sensible to talk to if you are not there.”
The colour bloomed in her cheeks but she answered composedly. “You are very kind to say so, sir, but you know I am not comfortable in such company.”
“Does your aunt wish you not to go? Or your cousin? Miss Cathcart can be… capricious, sometimes.”
“Oh, no, no! It is my own wish! I told my aunt when I first came here that I did not wish to move in the grand society that prevails here, and although at first she insisted, she has come to see that I was right and no longer presses me.”
“Then it falls to me to press you instead. Miss Parish, you will not overcome your shyness in society if you never leave your own hearth. May I entreat you to be of the company on Friday? I shall undertake to sit beside you at table and carry the conversation single-handed if you prefer not to speak.”
She smiled a little wanly. “How kind you are, but I must decline.”
Kent could feel his face falling. He had not realised until that moment how much he had depended on seeing her there. “There will be no pleasure in the evening if you are not there,” he said glumly.
“I believe you exaggerate, sir.”
“No, indeed, for if I cannot depend on you to protect me, your cousin will attach herself to me like a limpet, and there will be no getting rid of her. Since there is to be dancing as well, I shall not even be able to escape to the safety of the card table.”
Colour flared in her cheeks again, and this time there was a definite chill in her voice. “Mr Atherton, you are cruel to tease me in this way.”
“Tease you? No, no, I do not mean to tease you. Pray forgive me if I have offended you, but I speak the absolute truth. Do but consider my doleful situation, Miss Parish. I am obliged by my position as a young, unmarried male to do the pretty to young, unmarried females. Normally, this makes such evenings an exercise in tedium, and listening to an endless stream of inanities on the subject of bonnets and lace and ribbons and then more bonnets. What is it about bonnets that so fascinates girls of that age? And why should they suppose that the subject is of the slightest interest to me? But with you, Miss Parish, I can spend the evening talking about beam engines and the price of wool and brown lung disease and… oh, a thousand other subjects far more interesting than bonnets.”
She threw him an amused glance. “Perhaps I am interested in bonnets, too, Mr Atherton.”
“Ah. Now I am appropriately chastened, for I have never asked you about bonnets, have I? Very well. If you will dine at Corland Castle on Friday, I shall pledge myself to talk about bonnets all night, if that would please you.”
She burst out laughing. “No, no! That would indeed be too tedious for words. I should sooner talk about… oh, almost anything. The Duke of Portland, the French alliance with Russia, the Oystermouth Railway… you do not know about the Oystermouth Railway? Then that is what we shall talk about on Friday.”
A burst of happiness ran through him. “Then you will come?”
“I will come, but no dancing, if you please. I do not dance.”
“Why not, when you have all the requisite limbs and lungs for the exercise? You are out of mourning, after all.”
“I do not know the steps.”
“Does no one dance in Branton? Are there no balls, no assemblies, no carpets enthusiastically rolled up on a whim?”
“Of course, but it is only simple country dances and reels and the like. I have never been taught the elegant movements of your sort of dance. I love to watch, but that is all.”
“But if there were to be a reel… would you dance a reel with me? Please?”
There was the blush again, and the delicately lowered eyes, but he thought she seemed pleased. “If there is a reel, and… and if you should ask me, then yes, I would.”
He cheered so loudly that his horse half reared in alarm, and he was hard pressed to control it.
***
K atherine was so bubbling with happiness after this exchange that she could not wait to inform Aunt Cathcart of her change of plan. Learning from Davis that her aunt was in the still room, she went straight there.
“Aunt, I have been thinking about the invitation from Corland for Friday, and if it will not be too much trouble, I should like to go after all.”
Her aunt looked up from the jar she was examining, and said expressionlessly, “It is too late for that. I have already sent my response, refusing on your behalf, and undoubtedly Lady Alice has now made alternative arrangements. There is a deal of planning goes into an occasion like this, and it would be such an inconvenience if guests were to change their minds whenever they liked.”
Katherine’s excitement drained away in an instant. “Oh. Of course. I beg your pardon.”
Her aunt smiled at her. “There now, do not look so sorry for yourself. You cannot know, brought up in the casual way that you were, how things are done in a more superior society. There will be other invitations, I make no doubt.”
Bobbing a quick curtsy, Katherine crept away to her room and sent for Daisy to help her out of her riding habit. How stupid of her to imagine that she could simply change her mind. In Branton, no one would have minded a bit — in fact they would have said how glad they were that she could come after all. But she was not in Branton any longer, and must play by different, stricter, rules now. Lady Alice had no doubt already invited someone else to fill her place.
It was a pity she had listened to Mr Kent Atherton. Had she been more circumspect, she would have said that she would ask her aunt… could not say for sure… and such like. Instead, she had as good as promised, and now she would not be there and what would he think of her then?
Could she possibly get word to him that she would not be there? She could not write to Mr Atherton herself, but a note to Lady Alice… or Lady Olivia, perhaps? But how presumptuous of her that would be, when her acquaintance was of the slightest, and they were so far above her in rank. She could have wept to have all her hopes crushed in an instant.
But Aunt Cathcart was not a person to let go of a subject, and especially not when there was a possibility of instructing Katherine in the ways of her betters. When they were all gathered at the dinner table that evening, she related the story to the entire family, not to mention the butler and footmen standing impassively in the background. Katherine was mortified to be so publicly discussed, but her aunt was impervious.
“I suppose she wants to see Mr Kent Atherton,” Aveline said waspishly. “She is violently in love with him, after all.”
“Enough,” Uncle Cathcart said, frowning at her. “Such personal remarks ill become you, Aveline, nor is this discussion a fit topic for the dinner table.”
It was not clear whether this latter comment was aimed solely at Aveline, or whether it encompassed Aunt Cathcart too, but she looked dismayed and turned to more general subjects while they ate. But when the servants had withdrawn, Uncle Cathcart resurrected the matter himself.
“I am sorry that you should not be able to accompany us on Friday, niece,” he said, with a gentle smile in Katherine’s direction. “It would do you good to mingle more with our neighbours, but I suppose we must not insist on overthrowing all their plans at this late stage.”
Surprisingly, it was James who came to Katherine’s defence. “Well, I do not see why she should not go, if she wishes it,” he said stoutly. “The Athertons are not fussy about numbers — the earl likes to invite as many people as can be squeezed in, so one more is neither here nor there.”
“But I have already sent Katherine’s refusal,” Aunt Cathcart said.
“You could write to ask if Cousin Kate can be accommodated at this late stage,” James said. “With suitable apologies, naturally.”
“You do not appreciate how abominably rude it is to expect others to bend to every passing whim,” Aunt Cathcart said.
“It is not an expectation if one asks politely,” James said robustly. “Lady Alice can say no if she wishes, but she might say yes.”
“Really, James, must you argue with me on every point?” Aunt Cathcart said. “You must take my word for it that such behaviour is simply not done. Whatever would people think of us if we change our minds every time the wind blows?”
“But Cousin Kate was riding today with Emily, Lucas and Kent Atherton, and no doubt they expect to see her there, and look forward to her company, so friendly as they all are now.”
“Is that so, Katherine?” Uncle Cathcart said gently.
Speech was entirely beyond her, but she was able to nod her head, for James was not so far out in his supposition.
Aunt Cathcart glowered at him, and would have rebutted his point at once, but Uncle Cathcart held up one hand.
“Even so, I believe we must accept your mother’s greater experience in such matters, James,” he said. “No more of this, if you please.”
Katherine bowed her head and said nothing, glad when Aunt Cathcart rose to lead the ladies to the saloon and she was able to retreat into her music until the gentlemen joined them. James, Alex and Neil drew her into a game of whist after that, and kept up a light patter of amusing anecdotes until she was able to retreat to her room and the solitude that brought only anguished thoughts. Her prayers that night were impassioned, and it was many hours before she was composed enough to sleep at last.
The morning, however, brought a new perspective, for not long after noon, a carriage emblazoned with the earl’s coat of arms arrived bearing the Lady Olivia Atherton.
“I am come to beg for Miss Parish to favour us with her company on Friday,” she said as soon as she had sat down. “Kent tells me that there was some discussion on the subject yesterday, and Miss Parish expressed a desire to attend, but now I find that there is a refusal set against her name on Aunt Alice’s list. I hope, therefore, that you will change your mind, Miss Parish, for I assure you, I am quite determined that you should come, and no answer will satisfy me but a positive one. What do you say? Will you honour us with your company?”
Katherine threw a desperate glance at Aunt Cathcart, but was astonished to find her smiling broadly.
“Of course Katherine will come! She would be delighted, will you not, dear?”
“Yes, I—”
“Some confusion arose, but it is a relief to have the matter cleared up. Yes, we shall all be there on Friday. Should you care for some tea, Lady Olivia? And perhaps a slice of cake?”
“How very kind! I might just manage a little something.”
Katherine said nothing, but exhilaration bubbled up inside her. She was to go after all! How kind of Lady Olivia to visit, specifically to reissue the invitation. And yet… surely it must be Mr Kent’s doing? He would have asked Lady Olivia to call, knowing that such an appeal could not be refused. Even Aunt Cathcart could not stop Katherine from attending when the earl’s daughter herself insisted on it.
The first matter to be settled was what she should wear. Aveline’s gown had already been settled — she was to wear pink with a spangled net overgown and heavy trimming on bodice and hem. Katherine determined at once that she would go in a different direction. Her new gowns, chosen for her by Aunt Cathcart, were very much in the same style, but her Branton gowns, most of them still languishing in their travel box in a corner of her room, were plainer and more in keeping with her more reticent character.
She drew out two that appealed to her, a pale green silk with elegant sleeves and a delicately embroidered bodice, and a pretty cream satin with a net overskirt embroidered with tiny rosebuds in palest pink.
“What do you think, Daisy?” she said, when the maid came to dress her for dinner, holding both against her. “Which one for Corland Castle on Friday?”
“The green,” the girl said at once. “It picks up something in your eyes.”
“Does it? But my eyes are brown!”
“No, there’s green in them, too, miss, and that gown’s so clever — the way it’s all folded over round the— well, at the top there.”
“The bodice,” Katherine said. “That part is the bodice. Very well, the green it is. You know how to press silk?”
“I’ll ask Miss Rathbone. She’s a bit sniffy about the likes of me pretending to be a lady’s maid but she’ll explain things if I ask nice. She’s taught me ever so much.”
“You are getting on very well, Daisy,” Katherine said. “Do you like it here?”
“Ooh, yes, miss. I have me own room which I’ve never had before, and so much food to eat I’m sure I’ll get as fat as a pig.”
Katherine could not help laughing at this image. “I am sure all the running up and down stairs will keep you slim. And is your conscience troubling you less now?”
“Conscience, miss?”
“Remember when we first met? You were in great distress because of some untruth you had told.”
“Oh… that. It don’t bother me no more, miss.”
She looked a little conscious, so Katherine forbore to ask about it any further. Apart from reminding the girl to say her prayers each day and ensuring that she went to church, she could only trust to time and the girl’s own sense of morality to bring her to the point of confessing her sin.
Katherine had expected Aunt Cathcart to try to impose her own choice of gown on her, but nothing at all was said and so she descended the stairs on Friday in the green silk, quite without hindrance. She had dressed her hair with ribbons of the same material, interspersed with tiny silk flowers, and wore only her mother’s silver cross at her throat, just as she had done many times at Branton but never before here. Aunt Cathcart’s eyebrows rose as she looked Katherine up and down assessingly, but she made no comment. It was Aveline who giggled.
“That must be one of your Branton fashions, cousin.”
“Katherine looks very well,” Uncle Cathcart said repressively.
James was one of the last down. “Here we all are, ready for a night of pleasure.” His eyes fell on Katherine, and his face lit up in a most unexpected way. “Well! You look delightful, Cousin Kate. What an elegant gown.”
“But very plain,” Aveline spat.
Happily for Katherine’s blushes, the carriage drew up at the door just then, ready to take the first group of revellers to the castle, and in the bustle of donning evening cloaks and getting themselves out to the carriage door, nothing more was said. The first journey was to take Uncle and Aunt Cathcart, Aveline and Katherine, with the three young men following later. Katherine, naturally, was the last to ascend the steps, but as she did so, James materialised by her side and offered his hand to help her into the carriage.
“I shall see you again very soon,” he said, and there was that glow in his eyes that she had seen before. That would never do! Katherine dropped her gaze and squeezed herself into the small space that Aveline had left for her. James folded away the steps, closed the door and called to the coachman, and in moments they were rolling away down the drive and into the blessed darkness that hid Katherine’s flaming cheeks.