Page 41 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #1)

The day passed in a dream: luncheon; a walk round the walled gardens for the ladies, and a visit to the stables for the gentlemen.

Conversation, music, cards. She was not at any time particularly near him, but she knew where he was in the room.

She chatted with other people, listened, lubricated the conversation as she always did, but was not really aware of what anyone said.

She knew without looking when he went out of the room to play billiards, saw without seeing when he came back.

She knew, without having to verify it, when he was looking at her: his eyes on her face were like a physical touch.

And when their eyes met, it caused a pang deep in her stomach.

Tea-time. More conversation.

She found herself alone on a settle with Kitty, balancing teacup and plate. For the moment, no-one else was nearby.

Kitty said, ‘I envied you your walk back from church.’

‘Were your mama and papa difficult?’ Nina asked. The words seemed to arrive at random, as though some other Nina – the one in the Before world – were sending them through.

‘They asked me about the people I danced with last night. That’s all. Wanted to know what they’d said to me. Really, they want to know if anyone wants to marry me,’ she concluded abruptly.

‘My Mr Cowling admired you greatly,’ Nina said. ‘He said you reminded him of his wife, whom he loved.’

‘Oh, Nina, don’t,’ Kitty said, hurt. ‘Don’t make fun.’

‘I didn’t mean to. Does anyone want to marry you?’

‘If they do, they never say so, not to me. I don’t even know if they like me. They like you . They’re so easy with you. Why are you so different?’

‘It’s because I don’t matter,’ Nina said, ‘so they can say anything they like. But they do like you, Kitty, only I suppose they have to be careful what they say, because marriage is an important thing for people like them, and like you.’

‘I hate being people like me,’ Kitty said passionately. ‘I wish I could swap lives with you. You’d be so good at mine. What use is all this money to me if I can’t have the person I want – or even speak to him?’

‘So there is someone you fancy?’ Nina said.

‘I don’t think he even knows I’m there. When I dance with him, I can’t think of a single thing to say, and we go round and round in silence. But you – I’ve seen him talking to you. He’s like a different person. Annabel Courtlandt said you never stopped talking all the way back from church.’

Nina felt a cold chill on the back of her neck. ‘Lord Stainton?’ she said in a faint voice. ‘You’re in love with Lord Stainton?’

‘You see? You say it as if it’s the silliest thing ever,’ Kitty said bitterly.

‘No, no – just that you’ve never said anything.’

‘What would be the point?’ Kitty said. She stood up. ‘I’m going up to dress.’

‘The bell hasn’t gone yet,’ Nina said automatically.

‘I just want to be alone for a bit,’ Kitty said, and was gone.

Nina sat for a moment, rigid. Why should she be surprised that it was Stainton Kitty preferred? Wasn’t he the most worthy of being loved? And hadn’t he always been kind to Kitty – gentle and thoughtful of her – when they were all together?

Kitty loved Stainton. Something twisted bitterly inside her.

She might have enjoyed her newly discovered love for a while, even if it was hopeless, thought about him secretly, talked to him when opportunity arose.

But Kitty loved him, and loyalty to Kitty dictated that she must not think of him at all, not any more.

She was only here for Kitty – otherwise, she would never have met him.

She couldn’t remain where she was, with the danger that someone would join her.

She felt she simply could not bear to talk to anyone else just then.

She put down her cup and plate, and drifted casually away.

The orangery was likely to be empty at this time of day, and if anyone came in, it would not raise eyebrows that she should choose to wander there alone to refresh herself.

It was empty, and she walked between the pots and plantings, breathing the intense scents of damp earth, moss, gardenia and orange blossom.

Her mind was tense with trouble but her thoughts were completely locked and wordless.

She couldn’t even think what it was she wanted to think about.

And before she’d had the chance to sort it out, she heard footsteps approaching, and felt almost tearful at being interrupted.

But then the hair stood up on the back of her neck and she turned to see Lord Stainton.

‘I saw you leave,’ he said. ‘You looked troubled. I …’ He paused, seeming at a loss.

She moved away, deeper into the foliage, and he followed. In a bower of ferns and palms, hidden from sight, she turned and looked up at him, and caught her breath. Just to be this close to him …

They were silent a long time. At last she said, ‘What do you want of me?’

He let out a shaky breath he had been holding. ‘Nothing. Everything,’ he said. ‘I didn’t believe … I hadn’t expected ever to feel like this. You feel it too, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she said. It was a relief to have the words said. ‘But it’s no good, is it?’ she added unhappily.

He looked pained, as though at a blow. ‘I can’t—’ he began, and had to try again. ‘I am in a hateful situation. I feel like the worst, the lowest—’

‘Don’t,’ she protested quietly.

‘I can’t marry where I want.’

‘I know.’

‘If I could … But I have – responsibilities. To the estate. My mother. My sisters. So much depends on me.’

‘The boulder.’

‘Yes.’ He clenched his fists, a movement of frustration. The words burst out, ‘I wish I could run away with you. Never come back. Go where no-one knows us.’

Just for an instant she allowed herself to imagine it. The heaven of it! To see Abroad – with him . But the flash of glory fizzled out all too quickly. ‘It wouldn’t work,’ she said at last. ‘You’d think about it all the time – the thing you should have done and didn’t. You’d be miserable.’

‘What makes you so wise?’ His voice sounded strange.

‘I’m not,’ she protested, shocked that he was agreeing with her. Don’t make me make your decisions , she wanted to cry out. I’m not wise. Not even sensible. You’re older than me, you’re a man!

‘I have to marry for money,’ he said bitterly. ‘That’s the sort of cad I am.’

‘You’re not—’ she began, and stopped. When he had followed her into the orangery, a small part of her hoped he might be going to claim her in spite of everything.

But he was going to let her go. She saw it as clearly as she saw him standing there.

Being in love didn’t matter. In the world of the grown-ups, other things were more important.

Well, she could be grown-up too. I’m just Miss Bayfield’s friend , she thought.

‘Kitty Bayfield is very rich,’ she said. Her voice seemed to be coming from a great distance.

‘I know,’ he said, and added bitterly, ‘She was on my aunt’s “list” of suitable girls.’

‘Marry her , then.’ He looked shocked, and she said, ‘She likes you. I care about her, and I know you’d be good to her. Some of the others, I wouldn’t want her to end up with them. They’d trample her, crush her. Marry Kitty. Let some good come out of it.’

He shook his head. ‘How can you talk like that?’

She didn’t answer. She didn’t know. She was drowning.

He took her hands. She was astonished at how much it meant, that touch. They both heard the distant bell.

‘Dressing bell,’ he said.

‘I should go,’ she said, wishing with all her heart he would defy the world and say they would run away together. But she didn’t know what it was to have people depend on you. Perhaps the world felt very different from that place.

He stepped closer. ‘Just this one time …’ he said. ‘If I can never be with you like this again, let me kiss you, just this once.’

She had no words. She wanted it just then more than breath or life. He bent his head towards her. Their mouths met. It was a joy shot through with such pain. It went on for ever, and lasted less than an instant.

She rocked as their lips parted, and he set her tenderly back on her feet and held her until she had her balance. Then he released her. Never again , her mind said. She would never kiss him again.

‘I’ll go first,’ he said. ‘You wait here until you’re ready.’

‘Yes,’ she said. It was all she could manage.

‘Oh, Nina,’ he said, by way of goodbye. And was gone.

Nina stood staring at nothing, waiting for life to start up again. Whatever sort of life it would be for her now.

Dawn comes early at the end of May. After a largely sleepless night, Giles got up and put on his dressing-gown, went to sit in the window and watch the long light slip across the night-chilled grass.

His mind was full of Nina, like a song and a river of tears intermingled.

But when the first blackbird fluted, tentatively, then strongly, his thoughts hardened.

He knew what he had to do. His feelings changed nothing.

He must put her from his mind and never think of her again.

Crooks came in, surprised to see where he was sitting. ‘Is everything all right, my lord?’ he asked anxiously.

‘Is any thing all right?’ Giles replied bitterly. ‘Will it ever be again?’

‘My lord?’

‘How does one go about proposing, Crooks? To a very young lady barely out of the schoolroom?’

Crooks settled his weight carefully, as though he feared that somewhere down the line his master might swing at him. ‘Well, my lord,’ he said, ‘there are forms and precedents.’

‘I knew you would know,’ Giles said, but not as though it were a compliment.

Crooks blinked, but continued, ‘It would probably be tactful, my lord, given the financial circumstances, for you to approach the young lady’s father first, and ask permission to address her. Less embarrassing than gaining her approval only to have her parent forbid the match.’