A Sense of Duty

by Sheelagh Kelly

  ‘I’ll tell Denaby you have no wish to meet him then, shall I?’

  Kit’s heart fluttered even faster. Her mouth fell open. ‘What does a gentleman want with me?’

  ‘A question I have asked myself,’ came Wyndham’s rude reply.

  Kit had an awful thought. ‘If he’s hoping to take liberties like you did —’

  ‘Do you wish to meet Denaby or don’t you?’ Suddenly impatient, Wyndham pushed his hair straight with his uninjured arm.

  ‘Yes, I do!’ How could Kit miss such an opportunity, dangerous or no?

  Wyndham turned on his heel. ‘Very well, be in the grotto where you saw us last, at four tomorrow.’

  ‘But I might not be able to sneak out!’

  ‘Then hard luck! Heaven knows what he sees in you anyway.’ Wyndham left.

  Her bosom fizzing with excitement, Kit slumped on the bed. Could it really be that she had an admirer? The very thought made her breathless. Spirits dancing, she cast her mind back, remembering Ossie Postgate’s teasing statement that Denaby seemed most taken with her. Apart from the vague impression of a dark-haired beanpole, it was hard to recall his looks in detail – but then it did not really matter what he looked like. This would be Kit’s first romantic assignation! Oh, how she wanted to run and tell someone. But who would believe her?

  Only after a long, imaginative interlude did she eventually change into her night attire, knowing as she climbed into bed that she would never sleep a wink.

  10

  The lack of sleep proved a terrible hindrance. Throughout the day Kit received constant reprimand for her lackadaisical efforts, though it had little effect on her performance, what energy she had being focused on getting to her rendezvous on time.

  Counting to five, she sneaked out through a door in the main house, and pelted as light-footedly as possible across a narrow strip of gravel, leaping for the cover of bushes before anyone detected so much as a crunch. The day was fine and hot. Adhering to the labyrinth of honeysuckled walls and laurel hedges she hurried to her trysting place, bundling up her apron along the way and shoving it under a hedge, all the while casting apprehensive glances about her, for to be caught today of all days would be disaster.

  The grotto was empty when she arrived – but not for long. No sooner had Kit let out a sigh of disappointment than Denaby appeared as if by magic, a blushing beanpole who whipped off his straw hat and extended his hand to greet her. ‘How do you do?’

  ‘Mr Denaby!’ It seemed inappropriate to call him master, for his height made him appear older than he was. A gushing Kit accepted his handshake, the contact with his bare flesh reminding her of her own inelegance. She should have worn gloves.

  Equal in height, the youth smiled into her face for long unsettling moments, then indicated the bench and blurted, ‘Do sit down!’

  Kit sat beside him, hands folded demurely on her lap. After which, a long silence ensued, the couple merely turning to snatch the occasional smile. An invading bumble bee droned amongst the foxgloves, his buzzing intermittent as he bumbled from one flower to the next. For a moment there was complete hush as he landed to investigate the pink mottled interior of a bell, only his furry rump protruding. Then once again the sound of his vibrating wings punctuated the silence. After a full five minutes had elapsed, Kit began to worry that she would be forced to return to work and nothing had yet been said. The concern showed on her face.

  Though only sixteen, it was not lack of confidence that stilted Denaby’s tongue but lack of practice. This he sought to explain to Kit, turning awkwardly towards her in his stiff collar, his straw hat balanced on his knee. ‘I’m afraid you may find this very silly, but this is the first opportunity I’ve had to be alone with a female companion and I’m not quite sure how to entertain you. You may find my conversation very boring.’

  ‘No, of course I won’t!’ Kit reassured him. ‘I’ve been really looking forward to meeting you.’

  ‘Have you?’ Immediately, Denaby laid his hat to one side and showed great attentiveness. ‘Why?’

  This response unanticipated, Kit looked taken aback. She shrugged. ‘Well, because – you being a gentleman, like—’

  It was the wrong answer to give. Denaby looked somewhat crestfallen. ‘Would I be unappealing if I were of a lesser station?’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you, Mr Denaby!’ Kit was anxious to put things right. ‘I just meant what could a gentleman possibly see in me?’

  He seemed pacified. ‘I beg you, don’t demean yourself! You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.’

  Kit’s heart leaped, yet unaccustomed to such compliments she almost ruined it with a jest. ‘I’m probably the only girl you’ve met that’s been tall enough for you.’

  Denaby was sensitive about his height and her comment brought a flush to his cheeks. Kit grew alarmed as the rendezvous came close to ending in disaster and tried to salve things with an explanation. ‘My family are always making jokes at me!’

  ‘Are they really?’ Denaby looked relieved. ‘Mine too – and the fellows at school.’ In fact he had suffered greatly at their hands, which accounted for his stooped posture, a practice which in fact drew more attention to himself.

  ‘But it’s fine to be tall if you’re a man.’ cried Kit. ‘The taller the better – but girls are expected to be dainty and I’m afraid I’ve never been that, or so I’m told.’

  ‘Oh, who cares what others think?’ Denaby smiled.

  Kit noticed that his teeth were somewhat crooked, and that his eyes were the same shade of brown as his hair. Enthralled by his enthusiastic grin she decided there and then that even if he were not the most handsome of men she was in love with him.

  ‘That’s what I always say!’ she told him, and the two of them gazed into each other’s eyes for a time, before Kit said she could not stay for very much longer as she must return to her work.

  He entreated her to remain, grabbing hold of her hand as if to keep her here. Heart fluttering, Kit said she must go or she’d invoke another castigation – she had been getting them all day.

  Reluctantly he released her. ‘Go if you must. I should hate to get you into trouble.’

  There was spluttered laughter. Immediately Denaby sprang up and called out, ‘Who’s there? Dolphin, you beast, show yourself!’

  Found out, Wyndham, Tish and Ossie Postgate emerged from their hiding place behind the wall, only one of them shamefaced.

  ‘Postgate, I’m surprised at you!’ accused Kit’s companion, whilst she too stood and glared at them.

  ‘Sorry, old chap!’ Ossie’s apology was genuine. ‘It was this one.’ He indicated Wyndham. ‘He’s so ignorant of how to behave in female company that he sought to take an example from you. I shall drag him away forthwith. Do excuse this intrusion, Kit. We won’t bother you again, I give you my word.’ And he piloted the others away.

  Kit felt her afternoon rather spoiled and it showed on her face. ‘I really have to go too, Mr Denaby.’

  He gave a heavy sigh. ‘Very well – but we must arrange to spend a much longer period together.’ Warming to this idea, he added, ‘Every day if possible.’

  Kit cheered up. ‘Oh, I’d dearly love to, but I couldn’t possibly get away at a regular hour. And I’m also not keen on Master Wyndham fetching messages to my room.’

  ‘Nor am I,’ agreed Denaby. ‘I don’t want any other man to come near you.’ And he planted an impulsive kiss on her lips.

  Taken by surprise, Kit experienced a sudden influx of warmth as if hot syrup surged into every vein of her body. More surprising was that he smelled no different from any working man.

  It was over as unexpectedly as it had started. Denaby’s lips were now drawn back in a grin, seemingly as pleased with himself as he was with her. ‘Will I see you again tomorrow?’ Told that Kit would probably be bringing his morning tea, he showed delight. ‘Wonderful! I shall look forward to it so much.’

  She beheld him cautiously, wondering if he sought to imitat
e Wyndham’s example. ‘But it wouldn’t be proper for me to stay long.’

  ‘Oh, I totally agree.’ Then he sensed her true reservation. ‘You don’t seriously think I would treat you so badly as Wyndham? Oh, I beg you—’

  ‘No! I know you’re much more of a gentleman than Master Wyndham. I was merely telling you not to expect me to stay long, as my services’ll be required in the dining room.’

  ‘Then can we arrange to meet here again tomorrow, same time?’ He begged. ‘Oh, say you will!’

  ‘But what if I can’t get away? I’d hate to think of you standing here alone, thinking I’ve deserted you – and then how would I know when I’d see you again?’ Kit’s response showed him that it really mattered.

  ‘I know! If you’re not here I’ll write you a letter and leave it tucked in one of these crannies – this one!’ Denaby bent and inserted his fingers into a gap between two of the slabs that supported the bench. ‘Then when you can escape you must come and collect it and leave your reply in its stead.’

  Kit dubbed this a splendidly romantic idea. ‘And I can definitely meet you on my afternoon off!’ She held him with her excited gaze for a moment, her clear blue eyes reflecting the sky, before crying, ‘Oh, Mr Denaby I really must go now – no, you must bide here a while!’ He had been about to accompany her. ‘It wouldn’t do for anyone else to see us together.’

  He nodded and went with her only as far as the ivy-clad entrance to the bower. ‘I detest letting you go.’

  ‘So do I!’ Kit had one last question to ask, turning rather awkward again. ‘If I have to send you a letter, who do I address it to?’

  He looked perplexed, then realized that she was asking for his Christian name. ‘Oh! How silly of me, it’s so rarely used that I’d almost forgotten. It’s Thomas.’

  Satisfied, Kit held out her hand. ‘That’s a nice name. Goodbye then, Thomas. Ooh, it feels very strange addressing a gentleman like that!’

  The youth was unwilling to relinquish his hold on her. ‘Don’t think of it like that, I beg you. We are just Tom and Kit.’ Planting another brief kiss on her cheek he finally allowed her to leave.

  Kit scurried back to work, wondering if anyone would comment upon the heightened colour she could feel in her face.

  * * *

  As luck would have it, she did manage to keep their next tryst, rushing to it as eagerly as did Thomas. This time, the conversation not so hesitant, she was to find out much more about him. Whilst Kit would have preferred to spend the whole time hugging and kissing, it was not the done thing for a girl to initiate proceedings, and she must content herself with being fed snippets of information, which were in fact very interesting. Not only did he and Wyndham go to the same school, but Thomas’s father was a very important man in the commercial world, being the owner of the famous pickle company where Kit had once worked, though she did not tell him this, and in addition was friends with Mr Dolphin – which meant that the future between Thomas and Kit looked promising, for he had every excuse to make a visit.

  Kit expressed pleasure, then asked were both men acquainted with Ossie’s father too?

  Thomas seemed put out. ‘Ossie?’

  She blushed, assuming she was being censured for the lack of respect. ‘I mean Viscount Postgate.’

  ‘I know who you mean! What’s your interest in him?’

  Kit was alarmed at his response. ‘Well, only that he saved my bacon from Wyndham—’

  ‘I wouldn’t have allowed Dolphin to harm you, you know!’

  ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t!’

  ‘Just because his father is an earl …’

  Ah, so that was it! Understanding that Thomas thought she was using him as a stepping stone, she tried to appease. ‘I don’t care who his father is, you’re the one I love.’

  This was sufficient to mend the fracture. ‘Do you really?’

  ‘Yes!’ She wrapped tender arms about him. ‘Don’t let’s fall out.’

  Fighting his inhibited emotions, he embraced her awkwardly. ‘We won’t! I was just being an ass. Forgive me!’

  With Kit’s forgiveness came another kiss, then an even more encouraging event.

  ‘I love you too – desperately!’ His face was earnest. ‘Will you marry me?’

  Even whilst recognizing that his impulsiveness was sparked by youth, Kit was not about to spurn such an offer, could already picture herself with his babies. ‘Oh yes, Tom! But are you old enough?’

  Again her thoughtlessness over the difference in their ages upset him. ‘I soon will be!’

  ‘Then I will!’ What would her family have to say now, thought a gleeful Kit!

  Denaby looked rather overwhelmed. ‘Oh gosh, isn’t it exciting! Does this mean we’re betrothed?’

  Kit said it must do, and pressed his thin body to her bosom, hardly able to believe that in the space of two days she had embarked upon the path to realizing her dream. ‘Of course, we can’t tell anyone yet – there’d be such trouble!’

  ‘I don’t care!’ Learning from her example, Thomas returned the hug with enthusiasm.

  ‘Neither do I! But your parents might want you to finish your education.’

  ‘I rather think they might – though I shall refuse to go on to university.’

  Kit sighed and told him how clever he was. ‘It would be such a shame to waste such good schooling. I wish I were brainy.’ She told him, though he knew already, about the books she borrowed from Mr Dolphin’s library. ‘I so love reading but I’ve had no proper education, you see, and I can’t understand a lot of what’s in them. A couple of bits especially I want to know more about. If I bring them out with me next time, could you help me with them? I did think about taking them home to ask our Owen to explain, but he’s such a know-all he’d end up making me feel more stupid than ever and anyway, I might get caught sneaking them out.’

  Thomas said he would be happy to assist. ‘Now, enough talk of education! I’ve got two months before I go back, and two whole weeks here to spend with you! Here I am offering marriage and all you want is to talk about books!’

  Assuring him she didn’t, Kit displaced further conversation with a lengthy kiss.

  * * *

  There was to be bitter disappointment at their next arranged rendezvous, for with Kit unavoidably detained a good hour in the servants’ quarters, Thomas had grown tired of waiting and had gone. He had, however, left her a note. Kit prised the scrap of paper from its dark cranny and read it excitedly – her first love letter! In actual fact its main purpose was to tell her that Thomas would wait here at the same time next day, but as it was signed ‘Your passionate admirer’, Kit felt entitled to adjudge it a billet-doux and thus held it between her mountainous breasts, yearning for tomorrow to come quickly.

  Over the next fortnight the sweethearts continued to meet sporadically, countless letters passing between them, each more florid than the last, both writers hopelessly infatuated. Up until now, Kit’s enquiries over Mr Dolphin’s books had gone unanswered, but today, as it was her afternoon off, she felt less compelled to rush and was able to bring the chosen books along.

  After their initial passionate embrace, she sat down on the bench close to Thomas, pulling a small brown leather volume from the side pocket of her dress. ‘This is one of the books I’d like you to look at and tell me – oh, don’t snatch!’

  ‘What are we wasting time with this for?’ Thomas riffled the pages. ‘Anyway, we hardly touch on English History. If it were Greece or Rome you wanted to know about—’

  ‘Oh, tell me about that then!’ begged Kit, eager for a glimpse of foreign parts. ‘I’d love to go to either of those places.’

  ‘I’ll take you one day, but I’m afraid my knowledge is limited to the ancient world, and that’s rather a dry topic for a sunny afternoon.’ He put the book aside and lunged for her.

  ‘Hang on!’ Avoiding him, Kit pulled out the second book and, opening it at a marker, pointed at the page. ‘This is a really good story but there’
s a few bits I don’t understand – such as this line here.’

  Thomas pretended to study the page, and made an effort to enlighten her, but it was evident from his manner that he would rather concentrate on Kit’s voluptuous curves. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. I’m afraid we do very little English Literature either.’

  Irked by his obvious lack of interest, Kit grabbed the book off him, wanting to know, ‘What exactly do you do at that swanky school?’ Thomas ceased his attempts to nuzzle her neck and reflected her annoyance. ‘You wouldn’t be any the wiser if I told you. What’s the matter with you today? I thought you loved me.’

  ‘I do! And I love to kiss and cuddle too, but nice though that is it isn’t all I want to do.’

  Thomas was about to demand what more could there be, but the look on Kit’s face told him he had better show some respect. Trying to explain an exclusively intellectual education to someone of her humble station was virtually impossible, but in order to find common ground the young scholar tried to bring himself down to her level. ‘Very well, you want to know what I do all day? Classics, Classics, Classics – and I’m hopeless at that too. There, see what a dunce you’ve chosen? I would have had to drop out last year, were I not in the team.’

  ‘Team?’

  ‘Football,’ came his succinct reply. ‘I’m not bad at cricket too, though I say so myself.’

  Kit displayed astonishment. ‘Do you mean to tell me your father pays good money for you to play games all day?’

  Thomas had the grace to laugh at himself. ‘That’s what it sounds like, I know.’

  His companion continued to be amazed. ‘You must do Mathematics?’ ‘Mm, yes, and a few foreign languages. Or rather, I do French but not German any more. I opted to do Science instead – the last refuge of an incompetent!’ The latter part was delivered in brilliant imitation of his housemaster, but as Kit didn’t know the man concerned this fell flat.

  ‘Oh, say something to me in French!’ she begged.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly!’ Thomas said that it was never spoken, only taught by means of grammar and translation.