by Anne Hampson
Delia’s eyelids fluttered down, and for some reason Kathryn went over what she had just said, wondering if there were any words at all which Delia could twist. She could not discover anything and she dismissed the idea that Delia was silently endeavouring to commit every word to memory.
‘I still maintain he’s doing it entirely for you,’ Delia said. ‘And if you allow him to ruin his life in this way, then you’re asking for trouble. He’s bound to regret it—and before very long.’ The merest pause followed, and Kathryn waited breathlessly for Delia to continue.
‘You must have guessed, Kathryn, that John and I were about to announce our engagement very soon?’
‘I—I had heard—rumours,’ Kathryn quivered, her composure beginning to desert her in spite of her determination to retain it. ‘But if—if John cared so very much for you he—couldn’t—couldn’t marry someone else, whatever had happened.’
‘John’s a gentleman; he firmly believes he owes you marriage. I think you’ve learned enough about him to realize he would never put himself first in a situation of this kind. No, Kathryn, he’ll forfeit his own happiness, but, as I’ve said, he’ll regret it ... and so will you if you continue with this ridiculous engagement.’
Kathryn stared at her, wondering if she were as white as she felt. Even her lips felt drained of colour and a dryness had gripped her throat, making speech impossible for the moment. She stood up, turning her back to Delia, her eyes wandering over the lovely undulating lawns and over to the high tilting ground above which came a glimpse of the fringe-like line of ancient trees bordering the far boundary of the Great Park. Was this all really for her? Would she find happiness?—or would John eventually come to regret his action, as Delia so emphatically maintained?
Had the engagement between Delia and John been a certainty? Rumours usually had some factual basis, although in this case they could easily have stemmed from the local gossip of the servants, for Delia was a fairly regular visitor to the Hall, and John often dined at the Slades’.
Delia sighed impatiently and Kathryn turned; unconsciously she twisted the lovely diamond and ruby ring on her finger ... and her eyes opened wide at the malevolence of Delia’s gaze as it became fixed on her hand before, lowering her head, Delia strove to hide her expression. Kathryn gasped; she knew, without any doubt at all, that this girl would harm her if she could; yes, and she would go to any lengths in order to do so.
‘Are you going to adopt the sensible course and take my advice?’ Delia’s voice was brittle, her eyes narrowed half expectantly.
Kathryn raised her brows.
‘You haven’t proffered any advice, Delia.’
The older girl’s eyes raked Kathryn’s slender figure arrogantly.
‘How cool you are—or pretend to be. Here’s my advice, Kathryn, and it will be to your cost if you don’t take it: give John up!’
Kathryn shook her head.
‘I’ll not take your advice, Delia. I’m staying engaged to John for as long as he wants me to.’
‘And you’ll marry him, knowing he loves me?’
‘I’ll marry him—’ Kathryn’s voice quivered off into silence, despite her supreme effort at composure. For all the animosity that existed between them, Kathryn had never thought to endure a scene such as this.
‘You won’t marry him, I’ll see to that!’ Delia spoke impulsively, regretting her words on the instant. But she had said them, and Kathryn stared in blank bewilderment, expecting some further explanation. Delia remained silent and Kathryn said at last,
‘Aren’t you being rather ridiculous, Delia? You’re in no position to prevent our marriage.’
‘No?’ Even that softly spoken word held a threat and Kathryn waited breathlessly for Delia to continue. ‘John knows quite a lot about you—for example he knows you deliberately ingratiated yourself with Mr. Southon. He also knows you’re grasping and greedy, that you used your own methods of persuading an old man to part with treasures that should never have been taken out of the collection—’
‘Persuade! How dare you suggest I persuaded him? I never so much as hinted that I wanted those presents!’
‘John knows differently. But there’s a great deal he doesn’t know about you—things that I can tell him, Kathryn.’ Her narrowed gaze became fixed significantly on Kathryn’s face. ‘And if you don’t agree to give him up, then I shall most certainly let him know exactly what kind of a girl you really are.’
‘I think you must be mad.’ The disdain returned to Kathryn’s eyes. ‘There’s absolutely nothing you can tell John about me—of rather, about my character, as you are obviously insinuating.’
‘Oh, but there is,’ returned Delia with undisguised triumph. ‘For instance, will you deny that you know those moors extremely well?’
‘I do know them well; yes, I know them very well.’ Kathryn stared in some bewilderment. ‘What has that to do with it?’
‘You know them well ... and yet you got lost?’ The low and hateful tones revealed far more than the words and Kathryn actually stared in amazement.
‘You think ...?’ She shook her head in a dazed sort of fashion, ‘You can’t think I—I did it deliberately—oh, you’re hateful!’ She quivered with anger and for a second or two this anger blocked her throat. ‘The fog was dense; we couldn’t see a hand in front of us. Anyone would get lost in that, no matter how well they knew the moors!’
‘But anyone who knew the moors wouldn’t have been so far from civilization at that time of the day—not in the month of October. You knew that if the fog came down you’d have difficulty, and yet you took no precautions?’ A sneer of satisfaction curved her lips at Kathryn’s rather frightened expression. ‘John hasn’t thought about this,’ she went on insidiously. ‘But then he wouldn’t ... unless someone brought it to his notice.’
‘John w-would never believe you,’ Kathryn faltered. ‘Why, we could have died up there, had the fog persisted!’
‘Rubbish! A search party would have been sent out. No one ever dies simply from being lost in the fog!’
‘He won’t believe you,’ Kathryn whispered again, shaking her head weakly. ‘I know he won’t.’
‘You don’t sound too sure, for all that,’ Delia sneered. ‘However, Kathryn, we’ll see whether or not he believes it.’ Rising, she picked up her bag and gloves. ‘There are other things he might like to know about you,’ she added, still in that sneering, triumphant tone. ‘I should give him up, Kathryn, if I were you—before he decides to give you up!’ She put on her gloves, slowly, pressing out each crease in the soft, expensive kid. ‘Incidentally, John knew you hated the idea of leaving here; you proved that to him by your insistence on his conforming to the terms of Mr. Southon’s will. So the knowledge that you’d go to any lengths to remain here won’t altogether come as a surprise, will it?’ And with that parting shot she moved to the door; a moment later it closed softly behind her.
Going to the window, Kathryn watched her get into the car and drive away. Then, turning, she walked slowly to the fire and stood gazing down into the glowing coals. John knew she was grasping and greedy, Delia had said; he knew she had persuaded Mr. Southon to part with items from the Marbeck collection. Kathryn’s mouth trembled convulsively and in spite of herself tears started to her eyes. These spiteful words of Delia’s proved without doubt that John had talked about her, had said disparaging things in regard to her relationship with Mr. Southon. He must have disliked her intensely to have discussed her in this way, must have despised her for accepting gifts which, in his opinion, belonged to the estate rather than to Mr. Southon personally.
In spite of the contention that had existed between them as a result of that first disastrous meeting, Kathryn had always admired and respected John; never would she have believed him capable of discussing her—or any of his employees—in this way. The knowledge that he had done so weakened him in her eyes. He should have been above such petty spite, should have kept his conclusions regarding her character to himself.
Crushing down her disappointment at this discovery of a flaw in him, she dwelt a little fearfully on certain allusions Delia had made. ‘There are other things he might like to know about you’, she had said. Kathryn frowned through the tears that still lingered in her eyes. What things? There was nothing Delia could say that could in any way blacken her in John’s eyes—In any case, Kathryn thought dejectedly, if Delia were to carry out her threat about bringing to John’s notice the fact that Kathryn knew the moors, and should have known better than stay up there, then anything else she might find to say would surely fade into insignificance! If John really did believe her, the engagement would instantly be at an end.
Would he believe Delia? Perhaps, Kathryn could only wait and see.
CHAPTER VII
At the beginning of the following week John announced his intention of giving a party. Surprised, Kathryn asked him what it was for. He glanced down at her from his great height and although his blue eyes twinkled there was a hint of reproach in their depths which brought a puzzled frown to Kathryn’s wide brow.
‘According to my sister there are two dates a man should never forget or ignore—his wedding day and his wife’s birthday. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a birthday coming on Wednesday?’
‘You have a sister?’ she asked, ignoring his question. ‘But you never said. I’d begun to take it for granted you had no relatives.’ Of course, she reflected, there had been no necessity for him to tell her about his family. Until very recently she had been of no more importance to him than Emily or Burrows, and it was hardly likely he would tell them about his affairs. ‘How old is your sister?’
‘Susan’s twenty-six; she’s the married one—the one who warned me to remember those two dates—or end up a deserted husband!’
‘I’ll never go quite that far,’ she laughed, entering into his mood. ‘Tell me about your family, John. You’ve obviously another sister. What’s her name?’
‘Felicity; she’s just twenty, and engaged. Then I have a brother, Earl, also engaged.’
‘And your parents?’ How odd, she mused, to be asking these questions of the man to whom she was shortly to be married.
‘My parents are in Ohio; that’s where my home is. We’re farmers—as you’ve already heard,’ he added with a hint of amusement. He had said they must forget that first meeting, but such was his present mood that Kathryn ventured to say,
‘Not merely small farmers, apparently.’
He shook his head.
‘My great-grandfather went over from England and started farming in a fairly small way, but gradually he acquired more land—it was easy at that time, as you probably know—and now we do have many thousands of acres, mainly under wheat and maize.’
‘Maize? What do you use that for?’
‘Fattening cattle.’ He paused and added, ‘The canning factories are something over there. The cattle go in at one end and out of the other end comes not only the canned meat, lard and the rest, but fertilizers, leather, and—oh, numerous other commodities. Nothing’s wasted.’
Kathryn frowned. She felt rather revolted at the idea of live creatures going in at one end of a factory and all these products coming out at the other. But she passed that off and asked about his parents again.
‘How old are they? What are they like? Will they be pleased that you’re marrying an English girl?’
‘Which question would you like answered first?’ he inquired with a quizzical lift of his brow. Kathryn blushed adorably; saw his eyes kindle with a strange light and lowered her head, saying,
‘How old are they?’
‘Mother’s fifty-two and Father’s a year older.’ He smiled at her on suddenly reading her thoughts. ‘I’m thirty-one in two months’ time.’
‘I thought you were about that age.’ She then went on to ask again whether his parents would welcome the fact of his marrying an English girl.
‘They’ll be delighted ... so long as I’m happy.’ The slight hesitation, the steadfast gaze he settled upon her... Kathryn’s heart leapt. Was he, like her, desiring to make a complete success of this marriage?
‘I hope you’ll be happy, John,’ she returned seriously. ‘I—I shall try my best...’
‘We’ll both try, I’m thinking, as we’re sensible people. Life could be most unpleasant were we to discover we’d made a mistake. However, you’ve promised to try, and—’ He took her hand, holding it in a firm grip which reminded her of the night up on the moors when she had known the comfort of his strong hand clasping hers, keeping her close in the darkness and the fog. ‘I shall try too, Kathryn. This promise I make you—solemnly.’
She looked up, her eyes bright with emotion. A great joy filled her as she saw his expression; her lips parted in unconscious invitation and in the intimacy of the moment John bent and kissed her, gently, without love or passion, and yet she sensed a promise of something more—a promise of sweet fulfilment, later, when time had given them the opportunity of adjustment.
‘You haven’t answered my question,’ he remarked, releasing her hand. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a birthday coming?’
His words brought back the announcement that they were having a party and, flushing with pleasure in spite of her bewilderment, Kathryn asked how he had come to know about her birthday.
‘I happened to be going through some of Mr. Southon’s papers and found a list of dates headed “Birthdays”; your name was included.’
‘Oh...’ She watched his expression, recalling Delia’s assertion that he had considered her greedy and grasping for accepting the presents Mr. Southon had offered her. How could John say a thing like that? He looked at her most oddly, almost as if he were reading her thoughts. Suddenly Kathryn could not believe he would ever have talked about her in the way described by Delia and on impulse she said,
‘John, did you ever say anything to anybody about my accepting gifts from Mr. Southon?’
‘Say anything?’ he frowned. ‘I don’t think I understand, Kathryn. To whom would I be talking about such things?’ He seemed a trifle angry and Kathryn half wished she had remained silent. But, her desire to know the truth being stronger than her fear of his change of mood, she persisted,
‘You might have mentioned it—er—some time. I think you did wonder about my accepting gifts like the silver brushes, for instance, and you could have mentioned it to someone.’
Her first reaction was one of overwhelming relief. John had not talked about her. Delia had invented the whole thing. Kathryn recalled the incident when, on Delia’s picking up one of her silver brushes, John had in fact made some remark about her, Kathryn, receiving many privileges from Mr. Southon. That would naturally have registered with Delia—and she had used it to make Kathryn believe John had openly discussed her! How spiteful! How could anyone go to such lengths? But Delia would go further than that, Kathryn decided, and made a mental vow always to be on her guard.
Aware of John’s eyes on her, Kathryn glanced up. No doubting his anger now and she instinctively shrank back, profoundly aware for the first time that John could, if he were driven, actually be cruel. It was an astonishing revelation, and a frightening one. Until now his attitude was ever one of superiority, cool, aloof and without any outward sign of a passionate nature within. But now Kathryn acknowledged the warning and resolved to take care, for John’s anger could have most unpleasant consequences for the one foolish enough to arouse it.
‘And who,’ he icily inquired, ‘would the “someone” be, to whom you anonymously refer?’
;No—no one in particular, John,’ she replied in tones meant to pacify. ‘It was just an idea, that’s all.’
He looked amazed.
‘An idea? You expect me to believe that? Who is this person with whom I could have been discussing you? Tell me—at once!’
But she shook her head, beginning to tremble as his face darkened with suppressed anger.
‘There isn’t anyone in particular—’
‘
Answer me, Kathryn. There must be some reason for your question. Why should you assume I’d been in the habit of talking about you in such a disgusting manner? I demand to know why you asked the question.’
Kathryn swallowed hard, fervently wishing she had held her tongue.
‘Please don’t worry about it,’ she began, when he interrupted her.
‘Kathryn,’ he said softly, ‘answer my question.’
She bit her lip, wondering how to frame her words.
‘It was just an idea, as I told you. But I thought you might have said something to—to—Delia, for instance.’ An awful silence followed her words. Kathryn had experienced many uncomfortable moments since the coming of John Hyland, but apart from that first meeting none had been quite so uncomfortable as this. Was this fear owing to the fact that they were engaged? If that were the case, what effect was his displeasure going to have on her after she had become his wife?
‘You actually believe I’d discuss you with another woman?—with Delia?’ he asked harshly. ‘Kindly explain yourself, Kathryn!’
‘John ... don’t heed it,’ she quivered. ‘It isn’t important—’
‘How could you possibly have gained that impression? There must be some foundation for it,’ he cut in wrathfully. ‘I’ll have your explanation, if you please!’ Kathryn took an involuntary step backwards, an action that only served to add fuel to the flame of his wrath.
‘I—we—that is, Delia and I were talking, and it seemed as if you’d—I mean, I had the impression that you might just have made some remark—’ A hand was raised in a light and airy gesture. ‘I’m mistaken, obviously,’ she added, even managing a rather cracked little laugh. ‘Forget it, John; it’s nothing—nothing at all.’
He continued to stare down at her, his eyes slowly narrowing, and with a little gulp of apprehension Kathryn wondered if he would pursue the matter further, would insist on having the truth. But to her profound relief he merely shrugged and within seconds his face had cleared and all anger had left him. Nevertheless, he wasn’t satisfied, and Kathryn had the uncomfortable conviction that he would eventually demand a fully explanation.
