by Rose Meddon
More than anything, Kate longed for the power to wind back time – to withdraw her hastily-made confession. Not only did she feel no better for supposedly unburdening herself, she had probably ruined Miss Naomi’s opinion of her. How much better to have just drawn her own conclusion about Ned’s feelings and then suffered in silence. It wasn’t as though knowing how he had – or hadn’t – felt about her was going to change that she was related to him.
‘It’s my fault, miss,’ she said quietly. ‘Clearly, I was wrong to think he liked me. It was just my mazed imaginings and I should never have troubled you with them. I was wrong about the whole thing. Wrong and foolish.’
‘Oh, my dear Kate, no. Please don’t think that way. I can quite see why you might fall for him. People often remark upon how terribly easy he is to like. He’s one of the few people who is entirely without nastiness. And that’s without considering his lovely looks.’
Already knowing all of that, Kate sighed heavily. ‘So why, then, did he leave without even saying goodbye?’
Although a largely pointless question, to her mind there were only two possible reasons: either, when he had learned of her parentage, he had been so sickened that he had wanted only to get away as quickly as possible, or else – and in a way, she preferred to think of this as the more likely – when it became evident what had been going on, his parents had forbidden him to go anywhere near her. It did feel like the sort of thing they would do – brush it under the carpet for the sake of appearances.
Recalling her last sighting of him – sitting in the back of the station cab, staring fixedly ahead – Kate felt her grief finally overflow. She started to cry, making no effort to stop, even when she felt Naomi’s arm about her shoulders.
‘Oh, my dear Kate, I am so truly, truly sorry. You must be heartbroken.’
Somehow, Naomi’s kindness only made her feel worse. ‘I… am,’ she mumbled between sobs. ‘Though he might not be dead, I do feel the grief as surely as though he were.’
‘Yes, I imagine you must.’
‘He liked me. I know he did.’
‘I’m sure he did… does.’ Withdrawing her arm from Kate’s shoulders, Naomi Russell reached into her evening bag and pulled out a pristine handkerchief. ‘Here, take this.’
‘Thank you, miss.’
‘I do wish there was something I could do. I hate to see you so upset.’
‘Grateful though I am for the thought, miss, there’s nothing to be done – not by you nor anyone. Right this very moment, I curse my sister for her – I curse Edith for her stupidity and wish I’d never been born.’
‘Come,’ Naomi said, once again raising her arm to Kate’s heaving shoulders. ‘I know it feels that way at the moment… and I know you didn’t choose for any of this to be brought upon you — but one advantage of having my father’s blood in your veins is that with it comes his strength and determination. That very wilfulness of yours will help you to one day look back upon this and see it for the upset that it is. Not immediately, I don’t mean, but soon. I just know it.’
‘But that’s just it! I don’t want to see it as an upset. I want things to go back to the way they were. To feel the joy… and the hope.’
Against her shoulder, Kate heard Naomi give a long sigh. Then she felt her removing her arm.
‘Kate, dear Kate, look at me for a moment.’ When she made no effort to raise her head, Naomi Russell went on, ‘Do, please.’ She gave in and looked up. What did it matter? What did any of it matter? ‘I wish I had known how you felt about Ned because I might have been able to spare you some of this dreadful pain. You see, the fact is, even had you not turned out to be related, there would have been other, equally insurmountable obstacles—’
‘I know that,’ Kate interjected. ‘But I thought that if he liked me, we would be able to overcome all sorts of things.’
‘And I’m sure some of them, you would. But, even had Ned fallen head-over-heels in love with you, it’s highly unlikely anything would have come of it. I know we’re not in the dark ages any more but some things haven’t changed. We might not be a titled family, nor even a landed one. Even so, with the differences in your stations in life, the two of you would never have been able to marry. And, deep down, Ned would have known that.’
It wasn’t what Kate wanted to hear. But who would want to hear the truth if it was going to hurt so very much? ‘We might have been able to,’ she said, determined not to let go of the vestiges of her dream just yet.
‘No, Kate. Believe me. At the first whiff of such a thing, Mamma would have gone all out to prevent it. And Papa, for all he can be open-minded at times, would have fallen in line with her wishes. Yes, I know that both of you would have been old enough to marry without needing consent but, denied the money from his trust – because that’s what Mamma would have ensured, the funds coming largely from her family’s wealth – Ned would have faced a very difficult choice. Mamma would also have seen to it that he didn’t get to follow Papa into the business. Now, that might not seem a great loss – especially since I know Ned is undecided on that as his future course anyway – and yes, I also know everyone says that money doesn’t buy happiness. But glib sayings don’t alter the fact that it would have been very hard for him. Were he to one day find himself struggling to provide the sort of life he felt you and his family deserved, it would be only natural for him to look back and remember all he’d given up for you. From there, it would be but a short step to resentment, which, trust me, is enough to ruin any marriage. One only has to look to Mamma to see that. Love might have tremendous power, Kate, but, when faced with hardship and resentment on that scale, it can dissolve quicker than a lump of sugar in a cup of coffee.’
‘But—’
‘I know it isn’t what you want to hear. I also know it’s moot – one can’t marry one’s brother, half or otherwise.’
‘No,’ Kate persisted. ‘I know that – all of it. But that don’t stop me from wanting to do harm to those who kept the secret from me. Because, had I known, then I would only ever have looked upon him as a family member. I would never have let myself get carried away with what ifs. More than anything, I would never have been made to feel so… so… foolish!’
When Naomi reached for her hand, Kate let her take it.
‘Kate, you’ve no need to feel foolish. Were our fortunes reversed, I could just as easily have made the same mistake. Why, for instance, would I ever think to wonder whether Lawrence might be my half-brother?’
With a little scoffing noise, Kate raised an ironic smile. Naomi was right, of course. Not that it eased her pain. ‘I see that. But—’
‘Kate, I know. It doesn’t make the outcome any easier to bear. You’ve no need to tell me that. But, one way or another, I shall try to think of a way to make it up to you.’
At Naomi’s thoughtfulness, Kate sighed. ‘It’s not your doing to make up for, miss.’
‘No, and I know that too. But it was my father’s. In his shoes, I doubt I’d have had the gall – knowing what I’d done all those years back – to come here again, chance of a holiday on the coast or no. So, one way or another, I will try to think of something that will help you.’
At this, Kate gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘I don’t see what, miss. You can’t make me un-hate my family. And believe me, I hate them with a passion that quite frightens me. They told a lie – a most tremendous lie – and then they let me grow up never doubting it to be anything but the truth.’
‘I know.’
‘I never knew Thomas Bratton. I have no memory of him at all. By all accounts he was a gentle and a placid man, hardworking and as honest as the day is long. My anger has nothing to do with having been led to believe that he was my father. It’s not even, in itself, that my real father has turned out to be Hugh Russell. It’s that through allowing the lie to persist – long after it need have – they’ve brought me pain of the sort I would never have thought it possible to feel. And please, if you really care for me at all, do
n’t spout the sort of nonsense Edith would – words such as “that which don’t kill you makes you stronger”.’
‘Kate, I wouldn’t—’
‘Because even were that true, which, after this, I highly doubt, it doesn’t help. I hate what they did to me and I hate them too.’
‘And I understand, truly, I do,’ Naomi said, gently letting go of Kate’s hand. ‘But might you not feel differently, were you to picture how it must have been for them?’
‘Why should I? It was their doing.’
‘Well, because, through very little fault of her own, there was a young woman, barely out of girlhood, who fell for a sweet-talking stranger. And there was her family, with little or no recourse for the fix in which she ended up. If I try stepping into their shoes, I see only heartache. And shame. So, I choose to believe they did what they felt was for the best. They clung to what was important – their family, their home, their work, and their good name. And, with nothing more than love and affection, they raised the child who had been foisted upon them. Yes, they concealed your true identity and yes, perhaps, once you were old enough to understand, they could have explained some of it to you. But when? When was there ever going to be the right moment to tell you something like that? You’re an adult now, yet still you struggle to understand how they could have fostered such a lie. And that’s without considering that they couldn’t possibly have foreseen what would go on to happen more than two decades later.’
Kate remained silent. While it didn’t sit easily with her, Naomi had a point. There were even chilling similarities between Edith’s position all of those years ago and her own now. After all, had Ned returned her feelings – had he responded amorously towards her – would she have found the will to refuse him? Would she, thinking herself on the verge of making her dreamed-of marriage, have managed to keep Ned at bay? Might she not, instead, have ended up the same as Edith? Hand on heart, she couldn’t say no. And, even had they not turned out to be siblings, once she had found herself with child, she had to concede it unlikely that Ned would have married her. So, above everything else – and she really couldn’t believe she was even thinking this – thank goodness Edith had intervened. Thank goodness, she had spotted the resemblance and had gone on to work out that Hugh Russell was the same Bertie for whom she’d fallen all those years previously. And, while she couldn’t bring herself to muster any compassion right now, she did wonder how on earth Edith must be feeling to have the details of her sordid mistake raked up and picked over.
Surprisingly, the realization left her feeling a little calmer. ‘Yes,’ she said eventually. ‘You’re right. Although it’ll be a good while yet afore I can find it in myself to forgive them.’
‘Of course it will be.’
‘As regards the rest of my life, well, I don’t see now what I shall do with it. I thought to have it all worked out—’
‘And one day, you shall have it all worked out again, I’m sure of it – a strong-minded young woman like you—’
‘—I was going to London to do something important for the war.’
‘—with that streak of Russell determination.’
‘But now I fear ending up like Edith – sour and bitter at the hand life has seen fit to deal me.’
‘But you needn’t, Kate. You’re not Edith. Nor are you in her position.’
‘Hmm.’
‘And, while we’re talking of forgiveness, don’t you think perhaps you could find it in your heart to apologize to that young man of yours?’
‘Luke?’
‘I’ve seen him about the grounds. Terribly handsome, isn’t he?’
‘I won’t deny he’s handsome, but he’s not my young man – not no more. And I don’t see why you think he warrants an apology. You know nothing about it. Or him. Or us.’
‘That’s true, I don’t. But I do remember some time back, you told me how much he cares for you – how he would do almost anything for you.’
‘He would. And I won’t hear no one say otherwise.’
‘Then just tell him you’re sorry for the way things have turned out.’ When Naomi smiled, Kate tried to do the same. ‘If he’s the decent man you say he is, then he deserves a little graciousness in return, wouldn’t you say?’
Minded that Naomi was right, Kate made a little huffing sound. ‘I suppose. But only so long as that’s all you’re expecting. As long as you’re not angling to get us back together, because I’ll tell you now that won’t be a-happening.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do.’
‘Very well then.’
Exhaling a long breath and beginning to feel less fraught, Kate realized this was her opportunity to make known her views on another matter that had been playing on her mind. ‘On the subject of things not happening, miss, I do think you should find a way to be rid of Mr Aubrey, once and for all, and to be with Mr Lawrence. It’s one thing to escape marriage to a man you don’t want, but quite another to secure for yourself the man you do.’ And trust me, Kate thought, I should know.
When Naomi responded, it was with a wry smile. ‘I quite agree. And so it should please you to learn that even without you here to chide me, I haven’t been letting the grass grow under my feet.’
Kate frowned. ‘I’m not sure I understand, miss.’
‘Well, with Aubrey forced to maintain a respectable distance these last few days, I’ve found myself with rather more opportunities to talk to Lawrence. He’s positively charming, you know – so unlike his brother.’
Although pleased to learn of Miss Naomi’s progress, Kate was surprised to feel a tinge of jealousy. Nevertheless, she raised a smile and said, ‘Well, good for you, miss.’
‘In addition to which,’ Naomi went on, ‘I draw comfort from the words of our friend Sybil, the prophetess.’
Wide-eyed and disbelieving, Kate shook her head. ‘For truth? You believe her?’
‘I didn’t say I believed her. But I do think she’s right to say that things have a habit of turning out precisely how they are meant to.’
‘Hmm,’ Kate replied, remembering snatches from her own reading with Sybil. Your true path is already known to you. Look into your heart and you will see it for yourself – or thin words to that effect. Clearly, on this occasion, Miss Naomi’s faith was badly misplaced because, as it had turned out, that so-called prophetess couldn’t possibly have got it more wrong.
Chapter Nine
Family Affairs
Kate ran her eyes back over the loopy handwriting. It was the following evening, and in her hand, was a note from Miss Naomi, the folded sheet of paper having been slipped to her by Aunt Diana a few hours earlier. It beseeched her to be at the summerhouse after supper, there being a proposal she wanted to put to her – one that she was certain would be of interest.
Folding the note back in half and pushing it to the bottom of her pocket, Kate peered across to her little clock. It would be at least another hour before supper was over and done with – time enough for her to decide what to do. She tried to picture what Miss Naomi might mean by a proposal. In her experience, proposals were what people made when they intended an arrangement, usually in connection with either a matter of business or else a marriage – which, in some cases, she had lately come to decide, seemed to amount to much the same thing.
Looking out through her window, she wondered whether to do as the note urged. What could Miss Naomi’s proposal be? She sincerely hoped she wasn’t intending to meddle. Having come to know her, it was apparent that Miss Naomi liked things tied up all nice and neatly. But life, as she had so recently learned, rarely fell into line. She wouldn’t entirely put it past Miss Naomi to have decided that she should take up with Luke again. Well, as she’d told her on more than one occasion, that wasn’t going to happen. Luke wouldn’t have her now, anyway; she’d ruined her chances there. She’d lied to him and disappointed him. Where a future with him was concerned, she had well and truly burnt her bridges. But what else could Miss Naomi have in mind?<
br />
Turning away from the window, she let out a long sigh. It had been a day of departures. The Rattray-Smyths had set off back to their cottage on Exmoor, from where, by all accounts, they intended heading straight back to London; their tramping holiday curtailed by the announcement of war and the need for Donald Rattray-Smyth to return to Whitehall. The Fillinghams, too, had left. Unlike Mr Rattray-Smyth, Dr Fillingham couldn’t claim to have urgent war business – a fact Pamela Russell had pounced upon, having been overheard begging them not to cut short their stay.
‘With all the gloomy grumps gone,’ she had entreated, ‘we shall once again be free to make merry. Just you see.’
To the dismay of their hostess, her guests had held fast to their plan, Cordelia Fillingham muttering something about ‘needing to see to family matters’.
And so, the household had come full circle: just Pamela and Naomi Russell, Aunt Diana and the Colbornes, the same as it had been at the outset – although obviously, without Ned. Oh, how she missed looking forward to seeing him! Despite everything, the loss of his companionship was still hard to bear. And that was on top of the pain of losing her dream.
Eventually, with the sun starting to slip towards the westerly horizon, and her curiosity making her restless, Kate decided she would go and meet Miss Naomi: in truth, she had nothing to lose.
On her way to the door, she glanced in the mirror, her dishevelled state causing her to cast about for her hairbrush. But then it struck her: it didn’t matter. She no longer had anyone to impress. There was no one to care how she looked. There was no point.
With a scowl on her face that she had no care to soften, she made her way out of the house and across the lawns. She had been hoping to find Miss Naomi already there; that she wasn’t, was mildly irksome. As she drew closer to the summerhouse, she thought it a peculiar choice for a secret assignation, the little cabin sitting as it did on a bank above the lawns, in plain view of most of the house and much of the grounds. Not that anyone else appeared to be about.
