Page 4 of Loyalty (The Chaplain’s Legacy #5)

K ent waited a few days before raising the subject again. The family was in turmoil and he had no wish to add to it, but surely now, when everything had changed, was the time for him to set his feet on the path that drew him?

It was not an auspicious time. His mother had left the castle, insisting that his father should marry a younger woman who could give him legitimate heirs, Walter had gone off to London in search of employment and even Tess Nicholson had vanished. Aunt Alice still kept to her room, and Captain Edgerton and his Hartlepool crew seemed to be everywhere.

But if not now, then when? Walter had seemingly accepted the need for a career, and how much more should that apply to Kent, the third son? He had no inheritance to drop on his head, as had happened to Eustace, and he was not handsome enough or wealthy enough to attract the attention of a marriageable heiress, so a career it had to be.

He found his father in his study, his desk spread with papers, but he was standing by the window, a glass of brandy in his hand, and since it was barely noon, it was not a good sign.

“Ah, Kent, there you are,” the earl said, running a hand distractedly through his greying hair. “I hardly know whether I am coming or going, with everyone taking off like this. Your mother gone… what am I to do without her, eh? And Walter off to town. Eustace is never here, and even Nicholson… not that he was a particular friend, but family, you know. Ah, but let us not speak of that. At least I still have you and Olivia. You will still bear me company, my two youngest.”

Definitely a bad time to raise the subject of leaving Corland, but would there ever be a good time? He could not postpone the moment indefinitely. “Father…”

“Sit down and have a drink with me. God knows, I need company just now.”

“Father, Walter is not the only one in need of a career, so—”

“No, no, do not speak of need . There was no call for Walter to go, but Alfred Strong persuaded him, and a trip to town will do him no harm — a distraction just now, that will do him a world of good. But as for employment, my sons may be gentlemen at my expense as long as they wish. I make you an adequate allowance, I believe?”

“Perfectly adequate, Father. You have always been more than generous, but if I am to be truthful, I should like something more productive to do than simply being a gentleman.”

“Kent, you are not going to talk about being an engineer again, are you? You are a gentleman, after all.”

“It is the future, Father,” Kent said mildly. “One day, engines will power all the manufacturing in the country, and mill owners will not be tied to waterways to drive their machinery. If you are set against it, then I will engage not to become an engineer myself, but I should like to learn about engines… as a gentlemanly interest, if you like. There is a place in Birmingham—”

“Birmingham! Good heavens!”

“A foundry, where they make beam engines of all types. I should love to go there and see how they are made, and the principles under which they operate. Not as a career, if you truly dislike the idea, but just as… a distraction.”

“But not just now, surely? You would not desert me just now, when everything is so…”

He rubbed his forehead tiredly, and Kent had not the heart to persist.

One day, surely, he would be able to leave home and follow his heart’s desire. One day soon.

***

K atherine did not know what to make of her conversation with Mr Kent Atherton. There had been a glorious intimacy about it — he had reposed such confidence in her, and revealed his family’s tragedy. Yet then he had told her to forget it had ever happened, as if he were ashamed of himself for saying such things to a stranger. It was hard to understand, but inside her a little flame burned, a flame of hope that perhaps things would be different between them now. Perhaps he would finally notice her, talk to her, reveal more of his inner feelings.

Yet he did not. Whenever they met afterwards, which was seldom for they moved in somewhat different circles, he treated her no differently from before. He was always friendly, always showing her that wide, beaming smile that so warmed her inside. After exchanging a few commonplaces, however, he moved on to other, more fertile pastures, to girls who could manage more than two words at a time in his presence, and not stutter over them. How she envied Aveline her easy manners in society! There was not much in Aveline that she would wish to emulate, but that ability to chatter away and always find something to say was such a help, and Katherine’s shyness such a hindrance. Her aunt chided her gently for it, and even gave her tips to help her improve, but nothing seemed to work, and especially not with Mr Kent Atherton.

Katherine had left off her blacks, apart from the gloves, so her life felt more normal. Her days fell into a placid routine, with music, Bible studies and long letters to Branton friends before breakfast. The music room was quiet at that hour, being situated off the drawing room and rarely used in the mornings, so she had an hour or two of solitude before the rest of the family rose and engulfed her with chatter and bustle.

Later in the day, if her aunt had no other plans for her, she joined the sewing circle at the rectory. Lately, there had been an exciting new addition to the little circle. Miss Peach was a middle-aged spinster, but she was also the companion to Mrs Edgerton, whose husband, Captain Edgerton, was investigating the troubles at Corland Castle.

No matter how terrified Katherine was of the earl and his grand family, just now they were simply a group of very unhappy people, after a brutal murder and now the discovery that the earl’s marriage had been invalid. The latter was not generally known, but the murder was of endless fascination to the ladies of Mrs Dewar’s sewing circle, so the addition of Miss Peach to their number was thrilling. Not that she revealed anything at all about Captain Edgerton’s investigations. She seemed like a twittery lady of middle-age, and her conversation was inclined to meander alarmingly off the point, but there was a shrewdness in her pale eyes that made Katherine suspect that there was more going on under her grey hair and no-nonsense spinster’s cap than there seemed at first glance.

Certainly, the ladies soon gave up their excited questions, as they found they received no clear answers. An enquiry about the captain’s interview with the Lady Alice Nicholson, widow of the chaplain, somehow veered into a discussion of quince jelly. A remark about how odd it was that the castle dogs in the basement did not bark at the murderous intruder was deflected onto the subject of partridge raising. And somehow, almost every subject, no matter how innocuous, became a recitation of the perfections of Mrs Edgerton, to whom Miss Peach had been governess, and who was, seemingly, a paragon of virtue.

Katherine watched it appreciatively, admiring the way Miss Peach was swiftly dismissed as being of no consequence and therefore left to sit quietly in a corner with her stitchery, saying little but listening intently. Since Katherine liked to sit quietly in a corner, too, she often found herself beside the elderly governess. They said little that did not relate to their needlework, but occasionally Miss Peach would ask a perceptive question.

“How delightful for you to be a part of the most superior society in this neighbourhood,” Miss Peach said to Katherine one day. “The earl’s family… so gracious and condescending, so kind to my poor self, even in the midst of all their difficulties. The countess pressed me many times to join the family for dinner. Not that I do, of course! Good heavens, no! Someone in my humble position cannot mingle with the nobility, not as my dear Mrs Edgerton so gracefully can. I eat with the servants, as is only fitting. But you, my dear… you must enjoy the experience, I am sure.”

How to answer her? Enjoy mingling with a peer of the realm? Katherine felt herself to be in just as humble a position as Miss Peach, but she was not allowed to eat with the servants, or to stay quietly at home while the rest of the family went off to be impressed by the size of the dining room at Corland Castle, the number of footmen and the vast array of dishes laid out on the table. Instead, she had been dragged unwillingly along, stuffed into a gown that was far too revealing, her hair elaborately coiffed, and expected to play the part of a fashionable young lady, like Aveline. She made no complaint, since it was her duty to be a credit to her aunt and uncle, but she hated every minute, was terrified of making a dreadful mistake and could never find a word to say to the fine ladies and gentlemen she met there. The only comfort such evenings afforded were the glimpses of Mr Kent Atherton and his perpetually smiling countenance.

But she could put none of that into words, so she murmured, “Oh, yes,” and bent industriously to her needlework.

Another time, Miss Peach said, “How lucky for you to find yourself part of such a large family! After the tragedy in your own family, and I do most sincerely feel for you, my dear, for I lost my own excellent father at a young age, and my dear Mama when I was but fifteen, but now you are surrounded by loving relations. And your cousins must be like sisters and brothers to you. You never had a sister, I understand?”

“No.”

“And one brother, who joined His Majesty’s splendid navy, and was tragically lost at sea, poor young man. In battle, I believe?”

“Yes. Cape St Vincent.”

“Then he died a hero, which must be the greatest comfort to you, I am sure, and now he is reunited with his papa and mama in Heaven. Such a great loss to the country, these battles and wars! Why can men not stay safely at home and not grieve their womenfolk by going off to be heroes? We would much rather they were a trifle less heroic and stayed comfortably in the arms of their family, do you not agree? But now you have three sisters, and Miss Cathcart so close to you in age that you must be the best of friends, I am sure.”

The best of friends? That was not how Katherine would describe it. Aveline had never been especially welcoming, but her attitude had quickly turned to open hostility after the discussion on dowries. Even though that had been settled in Aveline’s favour, she had never quite forgiven Katherine.

Aveline’s other cause for resentment was, Katherine felt, less justified. There was often a time in those dreadful evenings out when the ladies were called upon to play. It was a relief to hide herself behind the instrument for a few minutes, but there was a difficulty, too. Having the lowest rank, Katherine was usually the last to be called upon, but that made it worse, somehow. Having listened to the bumbling efforts of Aveline earlier, her own performance was often greeted with relief. It was of no use to tell her cousin that the difference was not due to any innate talent, but rather to hours and hours of assiduous practice on her part and a far greater interest in bonnets and ribbons on Aveline’s. So she had to hear herself praised, and her aunt say, “There, Aveline! You could play just as well as your cousin, I am sure, if you put some effort into it.” It was mortifying.

Katherine had long since given up hope of making a friend of Aveline, and she was too shy in company to attract the attention of any other young ladies, even if she had felt herself to be a suitable companion for the daughters of the nobility or gentry. The earl and his brother both had daughters, but Katherine could not conceive of befriending them. Sir Hubert Strong, the local magistrate, had daughters, too, and Lady Strong and her eldest daughter, in particular, had been very welcoming, but her utter lack of conversation was such a handicap. She saw others chattering away and wished with all her heart that she could talk so easily, but somehow her mind emptied and her tongue froze in such elevated company, and even the most determined talker would eventually give up the struggle to extract more than a single word from her.

That evening saw another trial, for the Cathcarts were invited to dinner at Highwood Place with the Franklyns. Mr Franklyn, she had been told, was a former attorney who had inherited vast wealth, and that should have made him more approachable to the daughter of a mill owner. Yet somehow he was even more gentlemanlike than Uncle Cathcart, always immaculately dressed and his accent with no hint of his Newcastle origins. And his wife was an even more terrifying prospect, for the Lady Esther Franklyn was the daughter of the Duke of Camberley, and although she was perfectly civil to Katherine, there was a ducal haughtiness in her bearing that made Katherine feel like a worm in her presence.

Nor was she at all sure how to address so elevated a personage, for she had got it wrong once and her cousins had all tittered. Aunt Cathcart had explained it to her, but she could not remember. Was it Lady Esther or Lady Franklyn? She would have to listen to everyone else to understand how it was done.

The drive to Highwood Place was enlivened by a monologue from Aunt Cathcart to Katherine on the correct behaviour to be expected.

“You have managed well enough at Corland, for the earl’s family are relaxed about protocol, but the Franklyns are another matter. Your deepest curtsy to her ladyship… you may follow Aveline’s example. Do not speak unless spoken to, especially to her ladyship, or to any of the gentlemen. No reaching across the table for food. Always wait for a gentleman to serve you. And Katherine, dear, do try your best to make conversation with whoever is sitting next to you. You will never attract a husband if you never open your mouth, you know. There are no likely prospects for you here — the Athertons are well above our touch — but it will be useful practice for when we go to York next year. You may watch Aveline’s behaviour for guidance, for she has a delicate way of not quite flirting but showing a young man that she is interested in him, and that is what you must learn to do.”

Katherine said nothing beyond “Yes, aunt” and “No, aunt” , but she had no intention of taking Aveline as her guide in any aspect of her behaviour. Besides, if her simpering and fluttering and fan waving was not flirtation, she did not know what it was.

They were the first to arrive, ushered past a long line of liveried and bewigged footmen into the Gold Saloon, one of several splendid apartments recently added to the house. The Franklyns moved amongst them, making the usual polite enquiries of newly arrived guests. Aunt Cathcart addressed their hostess as ‘Lady Esther’ , but perhaps that was because they were of a similar age? If Katherine used the same term, would that be too forward? Terrified that she might be called upon to speak, she tucked herself out of sight behind the broad shoulders of James, Alex and Neil, hoping fervently to escape notice from their formidable hosts. Happily, they were soon drawn away by new arrivals to be greeted in the hall.

Gradually the room filled up, natural groupings appeared and the level of conversation rose to a point where Katherine felt tolerably safe in retreating to a seat. Lady Esther Franklyn’s saloon was too well-lit to permit any shadowy corners, but there was a chair tucked away between a pillar and an ornate bureau where a terrified girl could safely hide. She could catch glimpses of the door between the moving sea of silk gowns and knee breeches, so she knew at once when Mr Kent Atherton arrived. There was something in that cheerful face that lifted her spirits instantly. How could she be afraid when Mr Atherton was so full of bonhomie?

His presence stirred her to rise to her feet and drift a little closer to the safety of her aunt, who was talking to another unthreatening guest, Lady Strong. She was a motherly person who smiled kindly at her, and hoped she would have an opportunity to hear Katherine play later. If she was Lady Strong, surely it must be correct to call their hostess Lady Franklyn, not Lady Esther? How difficult it all was! She was so distracted she could not even begin to formulate a suitable response to Lady Strong.

“Oh, but there is to be dancing,” Aunt Cathcart said, happily jumping into the conversation. “Mrs Dewar is to play for us, and there will be dancing. Although my niece does not yet dance.”

“No, of course not,” Lady Strong said sympathetically. “So soon after your dear father’s demise, you would hardly wish to do so.”

Katherine opened her mouth to say… she knew not what. How could she explain that she had never learnt the formal dances that graced the gentry’s ballrooms? A reel or a simple country dance she could manage, but the complicated steps and movements were beyond her. She loved to watch, but could never imagine herself moving with the graceful ease she had seen in her cousins and their neighbours.

Just as the long-case clock in the hall sonorously sounded the hour, the butler announced loudly, “Dinner is served, my lady.” Naturally, meals would occur at precisely the appointed time in the well-regulated home of a duke’s daughter. There was a little genteel bustle at the door furthest from the hall, as guests paired up for the procession to the dining room. All the older guests drifted in that direction, following instructions from their hostess, and Mr Bertram Atherton, eldest son of the earl’s younger brother, followed them with Miss Franklyn on one arm and Lady Olivia Atherton on the other. Only a few of the younger guests were left to make their own arrangements.

Mr Kent Atherton was one of them! Sudden hope flared in Katherine’s heart as his gaze swept over those left behind. Only two ladies remained… surely he would—?

“Miss Cathcart?” he murmured to Aveline, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

With a smirk of satisfaction, she laid her hand on his arm and they set off at a sedate pace after the others. Katherine could not suppress the disappointment that speared painfully through her. Now only Alex and Neil remained, and they turned away as one. Only when they reached the door to the next room did they think to turn to her.

“Come along, cousin,” Alex said.

“You will not want to miss dinner, I am sure,” Neil said.

They both grinned at her, those wide smiles that were so similar but not quite alike. Then they turned again and passed through the door side by side, leaving Katherine alone, to scurry after them as best she could.