Katharine wasn’t sure whether to be delighted or appalled at the thought of sitting next to Adam for a journey of an hour or more. She hesitated, the colour rising in her cheeks, before saying in a restricted tone, ‘Of course not.’ His expression grew even more remote.
Promising to see her very soon, Mrs Calthorpe kissed Katharine and hoped that she had good news at the other end of her journey. ‘Remember, my love, that you can send for me at any time! Adam and I will be here for you whenever you want us.’ Then she whispered, ‘And try to be kind to my poor son.’
Katharine pulled a face and whispered back, ‘I doubt he’ll allow me! But I’ll try.’
They drove in silence for a while, then Adam seemed to make up his mind. He sat up and said, ‘I wonder if we might talk a little about your future?’
Katharine’s heart missed a beat. ‘Of course!’ she said as calmly as she could.
‘Since you don’t as yet seem to have formed any attachment—’ He stopped and asked, ‘Am I right to assume so?’
Katharine had difficulty in finding her voice. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
Adam showed neither approval or disapproval. He simply nodded and went on, ‘And since you have also rejected the solution I put forward a week or two ago—’
‘Adam, I—’
‘Please! The last thing I want is to cause you embarrassment. I don’t intend to go further into that. But…since that is so, would you like me to talk to Sir James while I am here?’
‘To say what?’
‘To support your original plan of setting up house with Miss Tillyard. You are obviously very attached to her, and, from what her neighbour says, Miss Tillyard will find it difficult to live by herself much longer. You could provide her with a more comfortable home, and servants to look after her. Now that you have established yourself in the eyes of Society, I think it would no longer damage your social position. You could…you could look for somewhere with some life in it, where you might make new…friends. You would be wrong to cut yourself off from the possibility of a future marriage. I would suggest that you remove from Hampshire, however.’
To hear Adam talking of her future in this impersonal manner was painful in the extreme. The plan, which had seemed so desirable just a few months before, now seemed sterile. But what else was there for her? It was most unlikely that she would ever marry, and it seemed that Tilly needed her. More than anyone else did. But she was reluctant to shut the door completely. She said, ‘Can we wait a day or two, Adam? I must first see how Tilly is. But I agree with you. Whatever I decide, I don’t wish to stay anywhere near Herriards.’
‘Agreement at last!’ said Adam with a wry smile.
‘I have never wished to disagree with you,’ Katharine said in a low voice.
‘Haven’t you? I’m disappointed. I found it one of your most refreshing characteristics.’
‘How can you say that? You always seemed impatient when I did.’
‘Perhaps. But I still enjoyed it.’
Katharine hardly dared to breathe. Adam was at last talking almost normally once again. He sat back against the squabs of the carriage and mused, almost as if he was talking to himself, working things out as he went.
‘You see, I spent almost ten years in the Army, and, except for the first year or two, nearly always in a position of command. I hope I had a good relationship with the men under me, but they didn’t answer back. Or, if they did, I soon saw to it that they stopped. I never thought of myself as a tyrant, merely as someone who worked out the best strategy and saw that it was carried out. I gave the orders. And then I met you.’ He looked at her. ‘I didn’t like you at first, you know.’
‘Any more than I liked you,’ said Katharine.
‘I know. But I changed my mind.’
‘So did I.’
‘Did you? Did you, Kate? Never wholly, I think.’
‘You made it so clear that I was not the sort of woman you admired. My cousin—’
‘Kate, you’ve seen Julia Redshaw. I am aware that you don’t like her, but, just for one moment, forget the way she acts, just think of the way she looks. She was and is still exquisitely beautiful—can you not agree?’
‘Perfectly.’
‘Your cousin is just like her. At twenty I idolised Julia Redshaw. To me she was the epitome of female beauty. For years I judged all other women by her. And though I no longer loved her, I still thought I would one day marry someone who looked something like her. I knew exactly what I sought—Julia’s looks, small, perhaps a little clinging, delightfully dependent on me, in need of my protection… After all the years of dirt and noise and warfare, I wanted a peaceful life. I wanted someone who wouldn’t argue…and then I met you.’
‘Why did you take so much trouble with me?’
‘I had given my word to Tom.’
‘I don’t think that is the whole story at all. You saw I was desperate. If Tilly had been in the same straits you would have done the same for her.’
‘Some of it. But not all. You became a thorn in my flesh, an ever-present source of irritation, someone I had to do something about before I was driven mad. You became, not Tom’s responsibility, but mine.’
‘I didn’t want to be anyone’s responsibility!’
‘I know. That was what made it all so intriguing. I had intended to look for a beautiful, delicate clinging vine, and what did I find? A girl who is fiercely independent, a girl who has a spirit like Sholto’s, and is as tricky to handle.’
‘You don’t handle—’
‘Shh! I haven’t finished.’ Adam settled himself more comfortably and went on, ‘The lady of my choice was to be a soothing influence in the home, full of patience and forbearance, an example to our children. And what was I presented with? A girl who plays tricks, who would rather fight than give in, who becomes belligerent when she is nervous, or thinks she might be in the wrong, who is even prepared to use her fists when she is angry enough.’
‘I wonder you spent any time at all on such a virago,’ said Katharine sourly.
‘Ah, but this same girl has such courage! Such a determination not to evoke anyone’s sympathy by a parade of feeling when she is hurt. I have met many courageous men in my time, but she is as courageous as any of them, and as loyal. She is intelligent, too. And when she smiles she can charm the world. Do you want me to go on?’
‘Why are you saying these things?’
‘I’m trying to explain why I’ve made so many mistakes. How it is that I have made you dislike me so?’
‘I don’t dislike you.’
‘Not even…after the way I treated you when we were together in the library.’
‘It was partly my own fault. You’re right. I do play tricks, I do get belligerent. I must take some of the blame for what happened. Adam, if you only knew how I’ve reproached myself for the way I goaded you, gave you and Walter Payne an entirely false impression on the night of Lady Marchmont’s ball. So much evil came of it.’
‘I know what I did. What did Payne do?’
‘He came that same day, just after…after you had gone. He asked me to marry him, said I had encouraged him.’ She turned to the man beside her. ‘That was not so, Adam! But I had invited him to join us at the table…’
‘Why did you?’
‘Oh, I wanted company. Lord Trenchard hadn’t yet appeared and…and you and Julia Redshaw seemed to want a tête-à-tête.’
‘I remember feeling annoyed with Julia. And later I saw for the first time what she was really like. But go on. Payne thought you had encouraged him and was disappointed when his hopes were dashed…’
‘He wasn’t just disappointed. He was beside himself. He…he raved like a madman.’
‘What did he say?’ Adam, who had been leaning back, now sat up sharply. ‘What did he say?’ he repeated urgently.
‘I really don’t remember. I was still…still upset. He threatened me, I think. Nothing specific. He said something about making new plans. Something like that…
I really can’t remember.’
‘Kate, if Walter Payne ever comes near you, you must send for me, do you understand? No independence, no thinking you can deal with him alone.’
‘Very well.’ She paused, then said hesitantly, ‘Will you be there, Adam?’
‘Whether you want me or not.’
They were entering Herriard Stoke. Speaking rapidly Adam said, ‘Kate, you say you don’t dislike me. If that is indeed so, won’t you at least consider my proposal? I still think we could have a happy life together. You need a home, and I need a wife. And we have neither of us found anyone else we should wish to marry. It isn’t a question of necessity or otherwise. I’m asking you to marry me.’
Chapter Fourteen
Katharine was torn. It was far from a declaration of love, but Adam had come closer in the last hour to showing genuine admiration for her. Was it enough? She looked at him, her doubts and anxieties clearly revealed.
Adam shook his head. ‘I’m a fool! Of course you’re upset at the moment. This isn’t the time to make important decisions, and I shouldn’t have asked you. But may I hope that while you’re here you’ll consider what I’ve just said?’
‘I…I will, Adam. And I am very happy that we are…friends again.’
‘Friends?’ he said with a smile. The carriage was drawing up at Tilly’s gate. Adam took her hand and kissed it, then leapt out. He helped her out of the carriage and they went up the path together. Tilly’s little maidservant showed them in.
Tilly was lying on a day bed, but her eyes were bright and she had colour in her cheeks. Katharine went over and hugged her, then plied her with questions about her health.
‘I’m better for seeing you, Katharine. And Lord Calthorpe, too! Good evening, sir. How kind you are!’
The next half-hour was engaged in bringing Katharine’s luggage in from the chaise, and discussing plans for the next few days. Tilly had clearly been more seriously ill than Katharine had realised, but it looked as if she might at last be on the mend.
Adam went next door to spend a few minutes with the surgeon, who assured him that Miss Tillyard was no longer in any danger, but would benefit from company. He finished by saying, ‘That servant of hers is a good, sensible little girl, but Miss Tillyard sometimes gets bored with her chatter, and that’s when she gets up and tries to do too much. Miss Payne will keep her in order. It’s very pleasant to see her again. I’m afraid things here aren’t quite the same as they were when her grandfather was alive.’
When Adam returned they had some of Tilly’s favourite cordial, then it was time for him to go.
Katharine went to the gate with him. ‘After we had met for the first time, I looked back from here and saw you waiting at the corner,’ she said. ‘I thought you overbearing even then.’
‘And later I went back to the Quentins and described how I had met a shrew.’
‘We make a fine pair,’ Katharine said, smiling ruefully.
‘I think we do,’ Adam replied, looking serious. He took her hand in his. ‘Let go of the past, Kate. Think of the future.’
Katharine sighed. ‘I know you’re right. Whatever happens, Tilly and I will leave Herriard Stoke when she is well enough, and we shan’t come back. I shall use the time I’m here now to visit all the places I knew with Tom—and bid them a final farewell.’
‘Ah! I almost forgot. Cintra and her groom will arrive tomorrow. I’ve arranged for her to be stabled at the inn down the road. But…’ He seemed to be at a loss. ‘I hardly dare say this! You’ll take care, won’t you?’
Katharine’s face lit up with laughter. ‘You needn’t look so worried, Adam. I promise not to snap at you any more when you try to look after me. But, in any case, I know this place and its people like the back of my hand. I won’t come to any harm round Herriards.’
Adam was driven off, and Katharine went back into the cottage. She was still smiling.
‘You’re looking cheerful, Katharine.’
‘Tilly, Lord Calthorpe has taken the trouble to have Cintra delivered to Herriard Stoke for me to use while I’m here. Isn’t that thoughtful?’
‘I think he’s a very thoughtful man. You seem to be on better terms with him than when I last saw you together?’
‘It varies, it varies!’ Katharine found herself unwilling to discuss her relationship with Adam Calthorpe, even with Tilly. She was still confused about it herself. ‘We seem to be friends at the moment. Now, how shall we set about making you absolutely well again?’
In the days that followed Katharine looked after Tilly and caught up with the news of the district. It wasn’t all good. The Paynes had till now had a reputation for looking after their own, but Henry Payne was failing to live up to it. The good impression he had created on his arrival had been dissipated by broken promises and blatant neglect of his obligations. He was no longer as popular in the area as he had been, even among the gentry. Katharine could only commiserate and try to comfort. She was powerless to help.
After two days Adam brought Mrs Calthorpe over to see Tilly. They came laden with gifts and good wishes and stayed for several hours. Adam made no attempt to have private conversation with Katharine. It would have been difficult in any case, but she felt it was more than that. He was deliberately giving her time to think things through, and she was grateful. Just occasionally she had to chide herself for being idiotic enough to daydream, foolishly imagining a day when Adam would appear and demand her answer, swear undying devotion, tell her that he was desperate, he could wait no longer for her reply… Of course, that would never, never happen. Adam liked her, they were friends. Not lovers.
Cintra was regularly exercised, but at first Katharine did not go very far, because she did not like to leave Tilly alone for too long at a time. But then, as Tilly progressed, she took to riding further afield, doing as she had said she would, bidding the scenes of her childhood farewell. Now, after a year of freedom from the stress his death had caused her, she could remember Tom with a love free of resentment, could look back on their adventures and games in and around Herriards with fond amusement.
She returned regularly to their favourite haunt—the remnants of the old castle which had been the first dwelling of the Paynes of Herriards. She and Tom had been whipped more than once for climbing among its ruins, for the masonry was unstable, and the ground was dangerously uneven. Her grandfather had had its old well partially filled up and covered over after twelve-year-old Tom had climbed down and found himself stuck. It had taken a team of farm hands several hours to bring him out, and there had been moments when rescue had seemed impossible. Tom had boasted of it afterwards. He claimed he could have saved himself by climbing up the series of rungs on the side, which had once formed part of the ladder that went all the way down. But it was as well he hadn’t tried. The rungs were rusted and brittle. It wouldn’t have taken much for them to give way, and Tom would have fallen all the way to the bottom.
They had both kept clear of the place for a long time afterwards. And now, Katharine tied Cintra to a tree well clear of the castle, and herself walked with caution along the paths through the ruins. Dangerous it might be, but the place was beautiful. The air was full of herby fragrances, birds and small animals of all kinds had their homes in the ruined chimney stacks, in the scrub, in the thick ivy which covered the walls left standing, and summer flowers were beginning to appear in the overgrown heaps of stone. She sat here, remembering the past, thinking of the future, trying to come to terms with the reality of her relationship with Adam. And after a while she reached a decision. She would marry him. Life with him had so much to offer. She must learn to be happy with what there was, and not to dream of having the moon.
Meanwhile Catherine Payne, up in Bedfordshire with the rest of her family, was being fêted, complimented and admired to her heart’s content. Lord Acheson was a gregarious character and, moreover, he wished to show off his latest acquisition, his future bride—lovely, young and fresh as a rose. So the house party at Souldrop Cour
t was a large one, and numbers of visitors came and went. Some of the guests envied Catherine the match, for Lord Acheson was a very rich man. Very few dared to express doubts about its suitability, for he was also a bad-tempered one.
Henry Payne and his wife basked in their daughter’s reflected glory, and enjoyed the luxury of life at Souldrop. For a while at least they could forget their financial embarrassments and join in the many entertainments offered by their prospective son-in-law. Only Walter was finding it less than enjoyable. His sister’s success made his own failure the more obvious. In private his father lost no opportunity to rail at him, to remind him of his boastful promise to marry Katharine Payne and her fortune.
‘But why do I expect anything of you, Walter? You always were a great talker, but a poor doer! You’re a fine fellow with the housemaids and farm girls from what I’ve heard, but you don’t seem to be such a success where it matters! I warn you, if you don’t do something about this money, I shall be sunk! And you along with me! We’ve spent far more than we ought in impressing Acheson. What do you suppose he’ll do when his betrothed’s father is declared bankrupt? I can’t see that bag of conceit sticking to Catherine when the family is in disgrace, can you?’
Walter, still smarting at Katharine’s contemptuous rejection, had not yet told his father how hopeless his case was. He said with as much bravado as he could muster, ‘Don’t worry, Pa! I’ll see that Kate comes round. Something will come of it yet.’
‘I’ll be glad to see some evidence of that! Perhaps you’d better get back to town. You’re wasting your time here when Kate Payne is in London! For God’s sake go and do what you said you would!’
Sylvia Andrew Page 21
