Page 79 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #1)

‘But better that we both live comfortably than that I hang round your neck and force you into miserable penny-pinching,’ Nina said.

She felt quite calm now. Her aunt’s words had made up what little was left of her mind to convince.

‘I don’t think it’s an unwise marriage. I think he would be very good to me, and I would be very comfortable.

And just think of the good I could do! He is very rich, Auntie, and he says I can spend whatever I like on charitable works. ’

Aunt Schofield nodded. ‘These are all good points. And I find it encouraging that you are defending him so stoutly. That means you do care for him. But there is no need to decide in a hurry. Take a few weeks, or months. If he really wants you, he will wait.’

‘There is need,’ said Nina. ‘If I’m not to take up the post at Allely’s, I must tell them soon.’

Her aunt was silent a moment. ‘Is that what’s behind it? Do you hate the idea of teaching so very much?’

‘It’s not that. If I had to, I would teach. But don’t you see? I don’t have to. I can be a rich man’s wife, and a great patroness. In a fashionable girls’ school, my mind would dwindle – I would dwindle. I don’t want a small life, Auntie,’ she concluded passionately. ‘I don’t want that.’

Aunt Schofield was silent, thinking. Finally she said, ‘Very well, Nina. You are an intelligent girl, and have the right to choose your own path in life. Will you wait one more day? Sleep on it, and speak to me again tomorrow. And please believe, you will never be homeless. I am not casting you out, and never will.’

Nina smiled affectionately. ‘I know. You’ve always been so good to me.’

Rachel and Alice had a superb day. Going up to Town with Kitty was so different from going with Mama.

Everything was fun, even the train journey.

Kitty did not require them to sit still and be silent – they could jump up and down and stare out of the windows and cry, ‘Oh, look!’ as much as they liked.

There was the visit to Kitty’s parents in Hampstead, but that was interesting.

They always liked seeing inside other people’s houses, even if, like the Bayfields’, it was dark and gloomy and smelt a bit mushroomy.

Lady Bayfield was obviously a Tartar, but they were inured to the breed after their mother, and Sir John seemed very nice, smiled at them and called them pretty, asked in a pleasant way what they would be doing in London, and then – what they always liked best in grown-ups – excused himself and left them alone.

And while they were there, coffee was brought in, and the most delicious little cakes and biscuits – they had nothing like them at home.

The visit did not last long: Kitty, they noticed, did not seem to be enjoying it very much, and seemed to perk up as soon as they left.

They had luncheon not in some dull, terribly proper place, but in Gunter’s, where Kitty let them have poached eggs on toast followed by wonderful ices. When they stepped out again, Alice groaned and said, ‘I’m having such a lovely time! I’m not sure if I can bear any more wonderfulness.’

And Kitty laughed and said, ‘But we’re going shopping!’

‘Oh dear,’ Rachel said. ‘I’m like Alice. I think I shall burst.’

They survived it, even though looking at shops was their favourite activity – they even liked looking at the ones in Canons Ashmore, where they knew everything in the windows by heart.

London shops were bliss, on such a different scale it was like a banquet compared to nursery tea.

Kitty took them to Kensington, which was a place they had heard Mama speak about with scorn, but there were two enormous stores right next door to each other – Barker’s and Derry & Tom’s – with ladies’ clothing departments offering a range of dresses such as they had never dreamed of.

Usually when they had something new to wear, Mama chose it from a pattern and it was made by her dressmaker.

Kitty let them choose for themselves, and they could actually try things on and, best of all, buy them at once instead of having to wait for them to be made and sent home.

They begged her to let them carry the things away right there and then, and she saw the point at once.

The only drawback was that, with all the parcels, they had to take a cab rather than go on the omnibus, which they’d been longing to do.

And so, then, to Berkeley Square and Aunt Caroline’s.

Aunt Caroline was always nice to be with, and Richard was there, and Grandmère, so it was like a delightful party.

Sir Thomas called in, and he spoke to them rather pompously and asked whether they practised every day, which was bad, and demanded Rachel play the piano for them, which was worse, but he very quickly stopped her and said that was enough, and soon afterwards took his departure.

He gave them each half a crown as he left, which mortified Rachel because it meant he thought she was only a child, but Alice pinched her hard and thanked him gushingly for them both.

Half a crown was half a crown, after all, and a fortune to someone who didn’t often have money to spend.

And then tea. Aunt Caroline always did excellent teas, and their light luncheon was nothing but a distant memory.

There were muffins and strawberry jam, and cress sandwiches, and Gentleman’s Relish sandwiches because they were Richard’s favourite and which the girls adored but never had at home, and macaroons, and not just Madeira cake, which one would expect, but actual chocolate cake. What a day!

‘How did your first visit home as Lady Stainton go?’ Richard asked, patting the seat beside him, as Kitty brought him his tea.

Kitty frowned. ‘It was rather odd,’ she said. ‘Papa seemed almost shy with me. He talked in a sort of hearty way as though I was a stranger, and dashed away as soon as he could.’

‘Well, you’re not his timid little girl any more. You’re a grown woman,’ Richard said. ‘I expect you did seem like a stranger. But your mama was pleased to see you, I expect.’

‘It’s hard to tell. She talked a lot about the wedding.

She asked me about the places we visited on the honeymoon, but she didn’t listen to the answers.

She seemed more interested in telling me about all the parties they ’d been to.

They seem to have been having a gay time since I got married,’ she added, a little wistfully.

‘I expect your mama enjoys telling all her friends about her daughter, the countess,’ said Richard, who had a fair idea of what made Lady Bayfield tick. ‘So you’ve given her great pleasure.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Kitty said, but with a sigh.

She was silent a moment, then said, ‘I mentioned something about Christmas, hoping they’d come to the Castle, but she didn’t seem happy about that.

She said they’d have to see – that they already had lots of invitations for the Christmas season. ’

‘Now look here,’ Richard said, ‘do you miss your parents dreadfully?’

‘Well – no,’ Kitty admitted, ashamed. ‘Am I horrible? I’ve hardly thought about them. When I lived at home, I didn’t see much of them. It was only during my come-out that we spent much time together. I’m an unnatural daughter, aren’t I?’

‘Not at all,’ Richard said easily. ‘Believe me, not caring much for your parents is more the rule than the exception. Aunt Caroline is much more of a mother to me than Mama – and Grandmère even more so. And all I really remember of Papa is him thrashing me and telling me it would make me a better man.’

‘Oh dear !’ Kitty cried in sympathy.

Richard leaned close, as if basking in her warmth. ‘I must say, if I ever have a son, I shan’t ever beat him. I shall let him turn out as bad as he wants. I wouldn’t beat a dog the way Papa beat me – and I was his favourite. God knows how Giles survived. It’s no wonder he’s a bit strange.’

Kitty began to protest, then looked at him cannily. ‘I think you’re roasting me, aren’t you?’

‘Just a bit. But when you have a son, do remember my words and persuade Giles to spare the rod. I can imagine him turning into a stern disciplinarian.’

Kitty blushed at the thought of having a son with Giles, then smiled at the remembrance of their night together. Richard observed both reactions, and said, ‘You’ve grown up. You’re not the frightened little mouse I used to see around Town in the Season.’

‘But that’s better, isn’t it?’ Kitty asked.

‘Oh, certainly. Speaking of your Season, have you seen much of Miss Sanderton?’

‘I haven’t since we got back. But I do miss her. I’d have liked to see her today, but there wasn’t time with everything else, and I wanted to take the girls shopping – they really did need new clothes. I must make a separate trip for Nina – we’ll have so much to talk about.’

‘I think you’ll find her changed, too,’ said Richard, wondering if the friendship would survive such upheavals.

‘I suppose it has to happen. People do change,’ said Kitty wistfully.

‘Except me. I stay resolutely the same in all circumstances.’

Grandmère, as Richard called her, beckoned Kitty over, and required her to sit beside her.

Kitty had been admiring her toilette across the room: she was so elegant, the colours so suited to her complexion, the jewels fine without being overpowering.

Kitty wished she could ask her to teach her how to dress.

She had always thought she was part of one homogenous social class – wealthy people who brought their daughters out in style – but she was learning that there were strata within that class, and not only did Lady Stainton think Lady Bayfield was from a different stratum, she actually was .

It made Kitty feel she had married Giles on false pretences, and that she would never really be a countess.