by Dilys Xavier
‘I wonder if I can ask a favour? One of my girls has caught a bad dose of flu and I need help to exercise some of the horses. Could you help out for a few days?’ After she agreed, he offered to show her around the stables again. ‘Just to refresh your memory.’
When she trotted back into the yard after a gallop the following morning, Liam was waiting. He had just returned from taking his daughter, Eilis, to school, and explained that the woman who exercised his horses him usually took care of that chore as well. When he hinted that Catherine might like to help out in that area, too, she pretended not to hear. He unsaddled the mare and then pointed out a horse that she had not previously seen in the yard.
‘I’m schooling him over the jumps.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘He’s a bit of a handful, but I daresay I’ll straighten him out.’
Although unwilling to become too involved in his activities Catherine had very little else to do with her time. Louise refused to allow her to do any housework and Seamus had been aghast when she offered to help with the livestock. She looked at the bay gelding and then back at Liam.
‘Why don’t you give me a chance to train him. A woman’s touch is better at times.’
‘Yes, by all means, if you feel confident enough to do it.’
She had just walked the horse back into the yard when Liam returned from collecting his daughter from school. The little girl skipped out of the car and ran towards her, but as Catherine turned around she stopped and stared up into her face.
‘You look just like my Mummy. She’s got blonde hair just like yours, and blue eyes.’ She turned towards Liam as he reached her side and added. ‘But she doesn’t wear glasses.’
Embarrassed by the outburst he took the child’s hand and led her towards the house. Catherine noticed that he seemed to take an inordinate interest in everything the girl said as she prattled on about what had happened during the day. It was quite obvious that little Eilis was the apple of her father’s eye. She wondered how he had managed to spend so much time with her on the last visit, and then remembered that the child had been visiting her grandparents.
She declined his invitation to join them for dinner, because she did not want have anything further to do with the child until she had talked to Liam, and fortunately he had not pushed her to accept. He had explained that he had to do everything for Eilis while the nanny was visiting a sick relative. However he was adamant that they should have a night out together when the young woman returned to take up her duties.
Two days later he joined her for the morning exercise.
‘The nanny came home last night,’ he explained. He reined up the horse and turned towards her. ‘Shall we dine out tonight? We could drive over to Killarney and have dinner at that little restaurant you were so impressed with on your last visit.’
Catherine welcomed the idea; it would make a nice change from Louise and her family. They chatted about the weather, the price of yearlings, and the general outlook for the country and its links to Europe. It was as if he were sounding out her feelings about the place.
‘What will you do if you return to England?’ Liam asked, as the coffee was served.
‘I’ll get on with my life as best I can,’ Catherine replied. ‘I have some very supportive friends there who will help me adjust to my new circumstances. It may take some time, but I can’t turn the clock back, so I must put my life at the manor behind me and start again.’
‘Have you thought of settling here, in Ireland? You’ve said yourself, it’s a lovely place.’ He watched her keenly as he spoke. ‘You have a great deal of experience with horses and you could start your own stables. This is the land of opportunity you know; people with money to spend are coming here.’
‘You could be right, but at this stage I don’t want to make any hard and fast decisions. It’s too soon, and I need time to adjust.’
‘I’m sure you’d be in clover if you stayed here,’ he said, patting her hand. ‘If you don’t give it a try, you’ll never know.’
He had already hinted at a deeper relationship, but had not pursued the subject to any degree. She thought about Eilis, a typically spoilt little girl accustomed to having her own way, and whose father obviously adored her almost to the exclusion of everyone else. Catherine knew that if she stayed she would inevitably become involved with the child with the likelihood that she would, in effect, be in danger of becoming a surrogate mother. And this was something she would not want.
Even so, later that night, Catherine thought about what Liam had said. If she did decide to stay in Ireland, he would be the right person to help her become established. He had a lot of influence; he knew where to look for new stock and he would know who was in the market for a well-bred horse. Maybe that was a better option than returning to Britain and living alone in an empty house with nothing in particular to occupy her mind. The idea seemed sound, as long as she could avoid becoming too involved with Liam and his child.
Catherine mentally reviewed the situation. They had developed a friendly rapport, and although she did not feel any romantic stirring within her heart, she was genuinely fond of him. He always kissed her goodnight after a date, but it was more perfunctory than anything else. She mentioned his offer of help to her cousin the next day.
‘Why don’t you take his advice, and buy a place here?’
‘Yes, I suppose I could,’ she replied, ‘but I just don’t know if it would be wise.’
The following weeks passed very quickly. Catherine continued to ride every day and Liam joined her whenever he had the opportunity. On two occasions she accompanied him to the local races to see his horses run and they also attended a couple of sales together. She had accepted Eilis’ role in Liam’s life, but realised that life would be less complicated if she did not encourage the child to become attached to her for any reason.
Louise handed her a letter when she returned from exercising the horses one morning.
‘Oh dear,’ Catherine said, as she scanned the contents. ‘I’ve lost out on that property. The owner couldn’t get what he wanted and he’s withdrawn it from sale.’ She dropped the letter on the table. ‘That makes things awkward. I’ll have to go back to look for something else.’
‘But why?’
‘Because I ...’ She stopped. ‘You’re right, there’s no rush; my horses are in good hands at the manor. I’ll give the estate agency ring and ask them to forward me particulars of any other suitable properties they have on their books.’
‘But you’ll still go to the Curragh on Saturday with Liam?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The British Airways flight from Auckland touched down at Heathrow and taxied to a stop within minutes of its scheduled arrival. After Richard had cleared customs he phoned Agnes Frobisher to say he was home and that he would drop over to see her later that day. She accepted his kiss on the cheek when she opened the door that afternoon and then, chattering with obvious excitement at seeing him again, she led the way into the kitchen.
‘You look well dear,’ she remarked, as he sat down. ‘That holiday did you the world of good.’ She placed a chocolate cake on the table. ‘I thought I’d give you a surprise.’ She chuckled as he picked up a slice. ‘Now tell me all about your travels.’
He outlined the itinerary that he had followed in New Zealand, explaining that it had encompassed both North and South Islands, and promised to show her the snapshots when they were developed.
‘Anyway, now tell me when you are planning to move into the manor?’
Richard hesitated, and then described the feelings he had experienced as he walked through the building on his last visit, and laid emphasis on those generated when he had looked into Catherine’s apartment.
‘I felt quite disturbed about it,’ he said, and sighed. ‘It’s as though there was something wrong about my being there at all.’
Agnes watched him closely as he went on to talk about Catherine’s reaction when he told her that i
n hindsight he felt that maybe he should have left things alone and not claimed the inheritance.
‘Her life at the manor wouldn’t have been disrupted,’ he said. ‘She’d have been saved a lot of heart-ache if I hadn’t acted on impulse on the day of Sinclaire’s funeral, because then I’d never have learned about my link to the place. I was doing well in my business, so I didn’t need the inheritance. But I’m afraid I’ve mucked up her life and I feel a bit guilty – and rather selfish.’
‘Well, what’s done is done,’ Agnes said, softly. ‘But, there has to be a reason why it all happened and that you found the documents in time. I believe in fate; what’s meant to happen will happen.’ She patted his hand. ‘Now what about this Cecile woman? Is that all over?’
‘Yes, I guess so.’
‘Then that was meant to happen too,’ Agnes said, with conviction.
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right,’ he said quietly. Then he brightened up. ‘I’m going over to the manor in the morning. Would you like to come with me? You can be my first guest.’
After they had said goodbye he headed back to his house and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening going through his mail. When he checked with the answerphone service there were several messages for him.
He listened to Cecile’s decidedly icy remarks about her repeated failure to contact him.
‘I’ve tried your house – the phone just rings and rings. You’ve evidently turned off your mobile, and the man at Langley Hall said he didn’t know where you were, but when I insisted he gave me this number to ring.’ Her final words were; ‘I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t get in touch with me before you went on holiday.’
Richard wondered what excuse she would give for not contacting him sooner. Not that it mattered now, he thought, we’ve crossed the Rubicon, there’s no going back. He toyed with the idea of phoning her straight away to explain his feelings, and then decided to do it another day.
Agnes Frobisher was almost ready when he arrived to pick her up the next morning. As she settled into the car she insisted that he retract the hood so that she could enjoy being in a convertible. But after two minutes she asked him to put it up again; the weather was too cold to have the top down. When they arrived at the manor, she climbed out of the Saab and tugged her coat tighter as she gazed silently at the imposing building. Richard wondered what thoughts were passing through her mind at that moment. Her brother Dickie had taken his mother away from this grandeur and condemned her to a life of uncertainty, hardship and widowhood – all in the name of love.
Grasping her arm gently he steered her towards the house and into the sitting room where Pippa served tea. Afterward the tray had been cleared away he took her on a tour of the house.
‘I’d be lost in a place like this,’ she said, gazing admiringly around the study. ‘How will you manage on your own? I think you’ll get a bit lonely here all by yourself.’ Agnes’ eyes searched his face. ‘You’ll need to find someone who’s accustomed to living in a house like this.’
‘Like Catherine?’
‘Well, it’s a pity that you didn’t ... I mean she would have ...’ She involuntary covered her mouth with her hand. ‘Oh dear, I’ve said too much now, haven’t I?’
‘It’s okay. Maybe I should run an advertisement in Harper’s magazine.’ Richard gave a small laugh. ‘Something like; Baronet seeks a wife to share his manor. Must be well bred, but not too snooty. Able to ride to hounds, and reasonably proficient in bed.’
When she laughed he took her by the arm and guided her outside to look at the grounds. It soon became clear that she was not very interested in the rest of the estate so he suggested that they should leave. Richard drove away from the Hall with the same feeling as he had done previously; that Catherine Lowestoffe belonged in the house. He wondered if she would be interested in returning to the manor, not as his wife, but rather as a companion-in-arms so to speak. Even as the idea crossed his mind he decided it was ridiculous, but the thought would not go away.
Cecile rang that evening. Her voice was not as strident as in the message on his answering service, but she was still rather brusque. When she had done with complaining about his lack of attention, he asked her point blank why she had ignored him. She gave a light-hearted laugh.
‘But I phoned to tell you that I was going to Paris,’ she said. ‘You weren’t at home, so I left a message on your answer-phone.’ When Richard told her that it was unintelligible, she laughed again. ‘Never mind, I’m here now.’
‘Well, I’m sorry, Cecile, but I can’t just pick up things again as though nothing has happened.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that everything has changed since we last met. I’ve signed away my rights to Carlisle Enterprises and I’m just about take up my responsibilities at Langley Hall.’
‘So?’
‘You told me that you had no intention of having anything to do with the manor when Catherine moved out.’ He waited for her to say something, but when she remained silent he continued. ‘So you effectively ruled out any further contact between us by making that decision.’
‘And is that the only reason, or have you found someone more interesting?’
Richard gave a short sharp laugh before he answered. ‘The only women I’ve had anything to do with prior to my holiday was my aunt and Catherine. I haven’t had time to look the field over again, nor frankly do I have the inclination.’
‘So you’ve been spending some time with Catherine?’
‘We’ve had things to discuss, arrangements to make, obviously, and of course I helped her with the charity appeal a few weeks ago.’ He paused and then almost against his will he blurted out. ‘You were right, of course, it is her home and I wish ...’ He stopped unable to complete the sentence.
‘You wish what?’
‘Never mind, but I think we should just call it quits, admit it was nice while it lasted, but that it wasn’t meant to be. Okay?’
‘Yes, we shouldn’t end things on a bad note,’ she said, softly. ‘We had some lovely times together and I enjoyed you.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘Although, I always thought you were the right one for Catherine. And I still do.’
Before he could respond the phone line went dead. He continued to stare at the instrument for a long time before he put it back on the cradle. Why hadn’t Cecile voiced her opinion about him and Catherine earlier? Why had she pursued him with such vigour if she thought he would be a more suitable match for her friend? And why did she agree to the engagement if she had already made up her mind not to live at Langley Hall. He sighed deeply. There were just too many questions that couldn’t be answered with any degree of satisfaction.
Without thinking, he sat down at the table, pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write the words that tumbled over each other in his mind.
‘Dear Catherine,
I’m not sure how to begin this letter because I find it rather hard to put into words what I want to say. I haven’t moved into the manor yet because I wanted to allow some time between your departure and my arrival. I took the opportunity to enjoy a holiday in New Zealand and I have only just returned.
I’m feeling somewhat reluctant to take over my responsibility, not because I feel inadequate, but because of what I experienced when I looked around the house recently. I became aware that something is missing. I don’t mean furniture or anything like that, but of a presence. Your presence. You will recall my saying that I should have let you keep the house because I felt it was yours - if not by inheritance, then by the very essence of your imprint on the place.’
Richard read what he had written, and was about to tear it up when something made him continue.
‘I know this sounds bizarre, but I wonder if you would consider some kind of arrangement whereby you could resume your position at the Hall to take care of all the social occasions when they arise. Naturally I would be prepared to take full responsibility for everything else, and you would be free to do what
ever you wished in between times.
I do not feel that I can uphold up the traditions of the past successfully, or live there on my own, and you are well aware that two families could live at the Hall independent of each other. I would appreciate a reply even if it is just to say no.’
He scribbled his name across the bottom of the page.
The addressed letter sat on the table by the front door for a few days. He was unsure whether to send it or not, but without realising it, he picked it up with some other letters that needed posting and slipped them all into the post box. When he discovered that he had accidentally posted the letter, he was tempted to contact Catherine though her cousin Louise, to tell her to ignore it, but in the end, he did nothing about it. As he reviewed the situation, the family motto came to mind. Quid Nunc. Yes, indeed. What Now?
*
Liam’s yearling runner pulled up lame so he decided to go home rather than stay for the rest of the races. As they pulled out of the car park, he invited Catherine back to his home for dinner. After he had poured her a drink he rifled quickly through his mail and opened a bulky envelope marked, ‘Photographs do not bend.’
‘You and Eilis both take a good photo,’ he said, handing her one of the prints. ‘And this one. She looks just like you; she must be copying your expressions.’
Catherine gazed at the snapshots with mixed feelings. She had not wanted to become too involved with the little girl, but it seemed to be unavoidable. It was impossible to spend so much time with Liam without doing so. Of course, the nanny took care of her in the evenings, but it seemed that the child went everywhere with them on the weekends. More than once, Liam had commented about Catherine’s likeness to his deceased wife, and that concerned her too.
However, she had to admit that life would be very dull without his company. Seamus had never been very sociable; he preferred to watch television than talk. Derek had stopped following her around like a lovesick calf, now that he’d found himself a girlfriend, and the other boy was too interested in his computer. Even Louise was less talkative now, and seemed very pleased that she spent so much time with Liam.
