Page 66 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #1)

He must make it up to her, he thought. And remembering how she had raged against him – like a tiny kitten suddenly turned to a tiger – he felt a stirring of desire.

Did that mean he loved her, really? Could he feel that for one woman while loving another?

Had he really been unkind to her? Had he got everything wrong?

Was it really his fault? Thinking these woolly, confused but on the whole willing thoughts, he fell into an exhausted sleep.

The storm did pass by on the south. The clouds had come up in a purple-black bank, like a fist threatening the island, but had moved on, leaving a sky of pale, tender blue behind, and a fresher air, a light wind blowing away the thick, damp heat.

The birds that had fallen silent struck up the afternoon chorus with restored vigour.

The household awoke, rubbed its eyes, and wandered downstairs to regroup and think about evening pleasures.

Giles looked around. ‘Where’s Kitty?’ he asked.

Lucia consulted the other faces. ‘I haven’t seen her. Isn’t she in her room?’

‘I’ve been here for half an hour,’ said Giulia, ‘and she hasn’t come down.’

‘Perhaps she’s gone for a walk,’ said Flavio.

‘Yes, it’s so pleasant now the heat has passed. I expect she’ll be back in a little while,’ said Lucia.

They waited, chatting in a desultory fashion, but Kitty did not appear.

Giulia slipped away to ask the servants if they had seen her.

It was James who came out from the house to hem softly at Giles’s shoulder.

‘I understand you were wondering where her ladyship is,’ he said.

‘I was taking a walk about an hour ago, my lord, once it’d got cooler, and I saw her going down the steps to the beach.

I think she was going to bathe. She had a towel over her arm. ’

‘Thank you,’ Giles said. Everyone was looking relieved. But an hour was a long time to stay in the water, when you were on your own. ‘I think I’ll go down and see how she is,’ he said. ‘She was a bit upset earlier – the heat, you know.’

‘She bathed this morning,’ Lucia said, ‘but she does love it so, I’m not surprised she’s gone again.’

‘All the same,’ Giles said, and went.

James watched him, and when everyone else had turned back to their conversation, he slipped away and followed, keeping a discreet distance.

There’d been something about his master’s expression – and Marie had said her ladyship had seemed upset earlier.

If she was down there, there might be a row, and if there was a row, he wanted to hear it.

You never knew how you might turn something like that to account.

Knowledge was power, as the philosopher said.

The little cove was empty, though a towel, a robe and a pair of slippers lay neatly on the rocks.

Giles was scanning the water and calling when James emerged from the trees behind him, and registered the situation at once. The water was so clear, you could see there was no-one in it.

Giles turned, and stared at him as though he didn’t recognise him.

‘She never goes out far,’ he said. ‘She likes to lie in the water, but she doesn’t swim much.

Never beyond the rocks.’ The rocks made a V-shaped inlet, with the cliffs rising up on either side.

There was a small beach of pebbles, then the water dropped after a few feet into a deep pool.

Perfect for bathing. Beyond the point, the sea was darker, and choppy from the breeze that had followed the storm clouds.

‘Maybe she went up again,’ James said.

‘Without dressing?’

‘She might have wanted to dry off in the sun,’ said James. ‘I’ll go back up, look to either side of the path.’

‘I’ll come too.’

They climbed, checking every place a person might leave the path, every place where the tree cover broke and provided a sunning spot.

Giles called, with increasing anguish. At the top of the path he turned and started down again, like a trapped animal running between two points.

What have I done? What have I done? His thoughts tormented him.

James fathomed them. ‘My lord, she won’t have— I mean, I’m sure it’s not what you think. She’s wandered off somewhere. We’ll find her, safe and sound, you’ll see.’

Giles turned to him, seeing him now. ‘We quarrelled,’ he said starkly.

James looked away. He did not want to witness such feelings in his master’s eyes. Knowing things like that made a relationship awkward later. But he felt a deep dread. There weren’t many places a semi-naked lady might be found. She had gone down to the sea, it seemed, and not come back up.

They searched again, down the path, to either side.

Giles called, and this time James called as well.

He remembered seeing, on his walk, a sort of open headland that he thought might be reached from the path.

A nice place to catch the sun or look at the view.

There had been no-one on it when he was walking back.

But she might not have reached it by that time.

Or, said his deep mind, she might have gone there and – not be there any more. He had stood at the top of a cliff once, looking down, and had felt a strange desire to jump off. And he hadn’t even been unhappy at the time.

He left his lordship to carry on down and, in a moment, heard him calling from the beach, his voice echoing off the rocks.

He found a side path he thought went in the right direction, but it petered out and he had to force his way through.

After some time he finally came out on the headland, but he could tell no-one else had been that way, at least not today.

He paused, looking around, hearing his lordship’s distant shouts, and then a faint reply. A woman’s voice.

He bellowed, ‘Hey!’

Faintly, it came back. ‘Help me!’

He thought it was from below. He stretched himself prone on the short turf, wriggled up to the cliff edge – it looked crumbly to him, and dangerous – and carefully inched forward until he could look down. ‘Is somebody there?’ he shouted.

‘Help! Help me!’ the cry came back.

Definitely down there. The cliff made an overhang: he could not see straight down. He eased forward a bit more. ‘Is that you, my lady?’

‘Yes, yes. Who’s that?’

‘It’s me, James.’

‘James. I’m so cold. I swam round, but I can’t get back.’

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m on a rock, but the waves … I’m afraid I’ll slip off. Oh, help me!’

‘I will,’ he called, oddly moved. ‘I’ll get to you. Stay where you are! Don’t try and swim. I’ll come and find you.’

He wriggled backwards so hastily that he dislodged a lump of something and heard it tumble down.

Hope to God it didn’t hit her, he thought, as he scrambled to his feet and hurried back the way he had come, struggling through the vegetation, getting scratched and snagged in his haste.

When he reached the path, he found his lordship coming back up yet again.

‘She’s there! I heard her!’ James cried. ‘Down the bottom of the cliff. She swam round. She’s sitting on a rock, but she can’t get back.’

‘Oh, God!’ said Giles, and his face paled with shock and relief. ‘How can I get to her? We’ll need a boat.’

‘A boat’d take a long time,’ James said. ‘She must be getting cold. What if she slipped off? What if the wind gets up?’

‘You’re right,’ Giles said. For once, common sense seemed to have abandoned him. He didn’t know what to do.

‘Can you swim, sir?’

‘Yes, yes!’

‘If she got round there, you must be able to. I’d—’ James swallowed ‘—I’d go myself, but I can’t swim worth a farthing. I could—’

Giles was already tearing off his clothes, his paralysis gone. ‘Stay there. I might need your help,’ he said, and plunged in.

James took off his clothes too, and got into the water, going as far as the end of the little cove, holding onto the rocks and treading water.

He didn’t dare go out beyond a hand-hold.

It seemed a long time – an ice age – before he heard splashing sounds coming closer, and the two figures came round the bulk of the headland, both swimming.

The countess looked all in, and was barely making progress, her weary head washed over by a wave every now and then.

The earl was supporting her with one hand and swimming with the other, and seemed to be gasping for breath.

James pushed himself off the rock and swam a stroke or two, reaching her as she sank under the water.

When he grabbed her, she was limp, and her weight pulled him down.

He fought off panic, got his head up out of the water, spluttering, trying to keep a grip on her slippery wetness.

‘On her back,’ Giles gasped. ‘Turn her on her back.’

Between them, the two men turned her over, getting her face clear of the water, and then towed her together into the bay until they could find their feet.

Giles was too exhausted for the moment to do anything more, so it was James who slid his arms under her shoulders and knees, lifted her up, and staggered with her to the dry beach, where he laid her down and then collapsed, panting.

Giles dragged himself out of the water, and hung over her. ‘Kitty,’ he said. ‘Oh, Kitty.’

James had never heard such tenderness in a man’s voice, and he turned his head away, feeling he was intruding.

*

Kitty opened her eyes and looked up into his beloved face . I’m still alive , she thought first. The swim back had been so exhausting, she had thought she wouldn’t make it.

‘Kitty,’ he said. ‘Oh, Kitty.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

She had gone down to the beach in a state of anger, grief and frustration and, casting herself into the sea, had thought she did not care any more whether she lived or died.

She had swum out beyond the headland, and the current had taken hold of her, pushing her away round the outcrop.

When she realised she could not get back, fear had seized her, and she had known that she did not want to die, not yet.

She had struggled and fought until the current had pushed her against the rocks, where she managed to get a hand-hold, and at last was able to pull herself out of the water.

But she was stuck at the bottom of a cliff with no way to climb up, and to get back into the water was unthinkable.

At first it had not been too bad: she had assumed she would be missed.

But then the sun went round and the shadow of the cliff was on her, and she grew cold, and the sea looked darker and more threatening, and no-one came.

She longed and longed for Giles, and was more sure than ever that she had lost him.

When she’d heard the voice calling she had been close to despair.

And then the voice went away! She had waited so long she had thought herself forgotten – or perhaps she had only imagined someone had been there.

But he had come for her, Giles had come for her, and now he was looking at her with an expression she had imagined (in the darkness when they made love) but had never seen.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Oh, Kitty, you didn’t – you didn’t mean to … ?’

She couldn’t answer the implied question – not truthfully. She sighed, a broken, pitiful sound.

‘I don’t care for Giulia, not in that way,’ he said. ‘I never did. Please believe me. She’s no more than a sister to me.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said wearily.

‘It does,’ he insisted. ‘You were right. You’re my wife, and I’ve neglected you. You’ll see a difference from now on, I promise you.’

She was slipping into unconsciousness. ‘I’m cold,’ she said.

He wrapped her in all the clothes he could lay hands to and, with James’s help, carried her up the cliff.

She slept on and off in his arms. He had not said he loved her.

But he had looked at her in that way, and had promised – had promised …

Giles wondered. He supposed he would always wonder.

Had she simply made a mistake, or had unhappiness driven her near to suicide?

Yet, oddly, it was not that which had moved him so much.

It was the ferocity with which earlier she had faced him and told him she was his wife and deserved better.

Where had that courage come from? Because he was sure it had taken courage to speak, when she had always been so meek and shy.

He admired her for that; he felt a warmth towards her, and a curiosity, and wanted her to be well so that he could visit her bedroom again and engage with that passion in a greater knowledge and understanding than before.

There was a different woman inside the meek, child-like Kitty, a woman of spirit and fire. He had got a better bargain when he married her than he had compounded for.