An Innocent Bride

by Betty Neels

  `I'm not supposed to be here,' she said. `Professor Glenville drove me down yesterday. He wanted me to go back with him but I begged him to let me stay. He's so understanding, isn't he? He'll come for me later today-he wanted to be here with me but he simply had to return.'

  `Travelling is difficult on a Sunday, isn't it?' said Katrina politely. `But I expect there was someone to take your place if you were supposed to be on duty.' She smiled sweetly. `No one is indispensable, are they?"

  'That hardly applies to the medical profession,' said Maureen coldly. `I suppose you're at a loose end now that child has gone? You must get bored. Haven't you got a job?"

  'I start in September...'

  `Oh, yes, Simon told me something about it. Anything's better than staying at home turning into a dried-up old spinster.' She added with a sneer, `Though I suppose there are plenty of suitable men you could marry.'

  Katrina kept her temper. `Why, yes, I dare say there are, but I'm very happy as I am. Twenty-four isn't all that old. If I were getting close to thirty I might begin to worry... !'

  She remembered that Maureen was twenty-nine; Lady Truscott had let that slip one day. She had scored a bull'seye and Maureen's mouth looked ugly.

  Lady Truscott had finished her gossip with Mrs Peters and the vicar and she said brightly, `Are you two girls having a nice chat? I'm sure you must have a great deal in common.'

  Katrina thought, Yes, Simon, but she didn't say so, only took a civil leave of Lady Truscott and Maureen and walked to where Dr Peters was waiting with the car. Mrs Peters had insisted that she went back with them for lunch, for that lady wanted a blow-by-blow account of the fire.

  `Lady Truscott is so vague,' she told Katrina. `A dear soul, but never gets anything right, if you see what I mean. And fancy being in the bath... ! And only that dull-witted maid of hers there.'

  So Katrina had to recount the excitements of the previous day, and when she had finished Mrs Peters said, `You went home alone? You poor girl, you must have been tired and awfully dirty by then. Someone should have gone with you.'

  `Well, Professor Glenville called and made tea while I got cleaned up.'

  Dr Peters speared a roast potato. `He drove Maureen Soames down, I'm told. She seems to have got him under her thumb. Her aunt told me that she was actually on duty at the hospital but she coaxed him into bringing her.'

  He shot Katrina a quick glance, but she said nothing. However, his wife observed, `I should have thought he was the last man in the world to be coaxed into doing something unless he wanted to do it. Still, if her aunt is to be believed, they're as good as engaged.'

  She helped herself to horseradish sauce. `She'll lead him a dance... '

  `I believe she's good at her job,' said the doctor. `Talking of jobs, when do you start at the library, Katrina?'

  The talk was back on safe ground. Katrina enlarged upon the prospect of a career at the library, and presently the doctor drove her back home.

  Alone, she changed into an old dress, got into sandals and went into the garden. It was very warm; there had been no rain for some days now and everything would need watering. It took some time, going to and fro with the watering can, and she was glad to sit down with the tea tray and Betsy for company. She had promised herself that she wouldn't think about Simon, but of course she did.

  So he had told Maureen that she had found a job-how dared he discuss her with the wretched girl, as though she were someone to be pitied? Perhaps he did pity her. Perhaps he had told her that he had fallen in love with her just to cheer her up-something said on the spur of the moment and which he was probably regretting. He had been kind and warmly friendly yesterday, but given the circumstances anyone would have behaved in a similar manner.

  And he had left abruptly.

  She must forget him, contrive never to see him again. She has misunderstood him; he had wanted to cheer her up and he had said the first thing which entered his head... A nonsensical idea, but she told herself it was the answer.

  She went to bed presently, telling herself that tomorrow was the beginning of another week-a week in which she would begin, too, to forget him.

  Halfway through the week the weather changed with dramatic suddenness. The hot day was enveloped in black clouds with a nasty yellow tinge to them. They were in for a storm.

  Katrina hurried round the garden, picking the fruit before it should be ruined by rain, tidying away the garden tools in the shed, covering the potatoes she had dug with an old sack. The first great drops were falling as she reached the porch, and a flash of lightning sent her inside with the door shut.

  She was scared of storms, and so was Betsy; they looked at each other, thankful that they had each other for company.

  The storm had come to stay. It rumbled into the distance, then returned with even more noise and vivid lightning. Katrina made tea, and when the lights began to flicker prudently found candles. She was frightened now. Betsy had hidden herself in a corner and Katrina was sitting in a chair facing the door when it was opened. The professor, a vast figure outlined by a flash of lightning, stood there.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KATRINA, who never screamed, screamed now. It wasn't a very loud scream, and it was drowned by the cracking thunder overhead, but next moment the professor was beside her, a large arm flung round her shoulders. He was very wet, and Barker and Jones, wreathing themselves around her legs, were even wetter, but that didn't matter. She buried her face against his vast reassuring chest, her eyes tight shut against the next flash of lightning.

  Even with her eyes shut it was terrifyingly vivid, and the noise of the thunder made speech useless. The silence which followed was uncanny. She opened a cautious eye and the professor said cheerfully, `Hello, have you any candles? I think we might need them.'

  `There's one on the table.' She flinched at another flash of lightning.

  He took one arm away. `Then we'll light it together. Are there any more?"

  'Yes. Two on the shelf by the door.'

  He was lighting the candle when the lights went out. `Just in time,' he observed. `Let's have a cup of tea.'

  She drew away from him reluctantly. `There's a towel hanging on the door, if you want to dry yourself and Barker and Jones. I'll get more towels...'

  He popped her into a chair. `Sit there. We won't go away, and probably the worst of the storm is over.'

  He put the kettle on, dried his face and then towelled the dogs, fetched mugs and milk and made the tea. `You're very handy around the house,' said Katrina, and let out a squeak at another vivid flash.

  `I have a very loving mother and I had a fierce old-fashioned nanny. They both made sure that I would be capable of cherishing a wife in the proper manner, so that meant making a cup of tea, doing the washing up and offering a shoulder to cry on.'

  He put a mug of tea on the table beside her and sat down. The candlelight was soft and dim. He studied her pale face and thought how beautiful she was.

  `Your mother,' said Katrina. `And your father?"

  'Retired now. An orthopaedic surgeon. They live in a village near Huntingdon. I was born there.' He smiled at her over his mug. `I have two sisters and a young brother. My sisters are married; Nick, at the moment, is heart-whole.'

  `A family,' said Katrina wistfully, and gave a squeaky, `Oh,' at a particularly loud clap of thunder. And then, unable to prevent her tongue from uttering, she said, `I expect you're visiting at the Manor with Maureen.'

  The professor put his mug down, putting two and two together at last. He said quietly, `No, and certainly not with Maureen. I came to see you, Katrina. But first of all tell me why you supposed that I would be at the Manor with Maureen?'

  He was smiling a little but he was staring at her hard. She looked away, because it would be easier to talk if she didn't look at him.

  `Well,' she began, `Lady Truscott said that you and Maureen... And Maureen told me... Oh, does it matter?"

  'Very much! Go on.'

  `She talked as though yo
u were going to marry her.' She glanced at his face and then met eyes like blue ice.

  `And you believed her? Even after I had told you that I had fallen in love with you?'

  He sounded so mild that she was emboldened to continue. `Well, I didn't want to, only I thought she's such a suitable wife for you. I mean, you have to think of your future; you'll get more and more well-known, and meet all the right kinds

  of people. Not someone like me, grubbing around in the garden and doing the church flowers and making ends meet.'

  `My darling girl, there is nothing I should enjoy more than grubbing in the garden with you; you may do all the church flowers you wish and we will make sure that ends always meet!'

  `You don't want to marry Maureen?"

  'No. I want to marry you, Katrina. But I have been waiting for you to be sure that you want to marry me. Rid your head of this nonsense about Maureen and think about us. And when you are quite sure of what you want, tell me.'

  When she would have spoken, he said, `No, my dear, give yourself time-only remember that I love you.' He became suddenly brisk. `You need to go to your room and pack a bag. I'll come with you with a candle.'

  `A bag? Why do I need to pack a bag?'

  He glanced at his watch. `We can be in Huntingdon in three hours. You will like my mother, I think, and she very much wants to meet you.'

  At Katrina's surprised look, he added, `Oh, she knows all about you.'

  He was on his feet, holding a candle. `Come on, pack enough for a few days. If you need anything I'm sure someone will lend you whatever it is.'

  He was propelling her towards the stairs. `And has Betsy a basket, or shall I find a box?"

  'A basket. It's in the cupboard under the sink.' Katrina turned round on the stairs and said earnestly, `But, Simon, I can't. I don't know your mother and there's a dreadful storm and I'm frightened.'

  He smiled at her very tenderly. `When I am with you are you frightened, Katrina?'

  She said breathlessly, 'No-no, I'm not.'

  `Good.' He put the candlestick down. `I'm going to get Betsy's basket and see to the windows and doors. If you are frightened I'll come up at once.'

  Katrina told herself that she was in a dream and would wake up presently, but that didn't prevent her packing an overnight bag. She did this in a slapdash fashion which would have shocked Aunt Thirza, before tearing out of the cotton frock she had been wearing in the garden and getting into a cotton jersey dress and jacket. There was no time to do her hair. She brushed it back fiercely, thrust a pair of shoes on top of the contents of the bag and turned round just as the professor reached the small landing.

  `Good girl! Betsy's in her basket. I fed her first.' His gaze raked her. `You look nice.'

  Katrina went pink under the look. `My dressing gown,' she said breathlessly.

  `That's something you can borrow. But bring a mac if you have one.'

  The storm was dying away and, the rain was easing off at last. The sky was a uniform grey, but inside the Bentley it was warm and comfortable. With the dogs and Betsy in the back and her bag in the boot they drove away from Rose Cottage.

  They didn't talk much, and Katrina was glad of that; she had a great deal to think about for her thoughts were in a hopeless muddle. Presently she gave up and settled back into her seat, allowing herself to feel nothing but happiness.

  For all the world as if she had spoken her thoughts out loud, the professor said in a soothing voice, `Don't tease your head with doubts and fancies, my darling. You trust me, don't you?"

  'Yes, Simon, of course I do...'

  `Tomorrow, when you've had a good night's sleep, we will talk. Are you comfortable? And warm enough? I'm going up on the A303, then onto the M25 and north to Huntingdon. We'll stop halfway for coffee. We shall be there some time before eleven o'clock.'

  There was very little traffic, and the Bentley swept along at a speed which made light of the miles. They stopped at a

  service station just before they joined the M25, walked the dogs and made sure that Betsy was quiet in her basket, and had coffee. When they got back into the car the professor picked up the phone and talked to his mother, dropped a kiss on Katrina's cheek and drove on.

  The clocks were striking half past ten as they drove through Huntingdon and took the road to the village of Brampton, silent and dimly lighted now, and then on to Buckden, its wide high street flanked by facing inns, the houses mostly Georgian and Jacobean. At the far end of the village Simon turned the car into a narrow lane which ended at a wide-open gateway. The drive leading to the house was short, and since most of the downstairs windows were lighted Katrina had time to get a glimpse of the house. Brick, Jacobean and of a comfortable size, with, as far ,as she could see, wide lawns and flowerbeds around it.

  The front door was flung open as he stopped the car and an elderly Labrador loped out, barking, followed by an elderly man.

  Simon got out, opened Katrina's door, let the dogs out and took her arm. `I'll get Betsy in a moment.' He shook hands with his father. 'Katrina, this is my father-Father, your future daughter-in-law.'

  Her hand was grasped and she was kissed warmly. `My dear girl, we are so happy to have you here. Come inside. You're not too tired to meet everyone?'

  The hall was square and panelled in a dark wood and seemed full of people.

  The professor had her hand now, and led her to a greyhaired woman, very upright with a pretty smiling face. He bent to kiss her and said simply, `Here she is Mother. Katrina, this is my mother.'

  Mrs Glenville gave her a warm kiss. `My dear, we are so delighted. Can you bear to come into the drawing room and meet the rest of the family?'

  She led the way into the drawing room and everyone followed her, to surround Katrina and Simon-his sisters and his brother, shaking hands and kissing her and declaring how delighted they were.

  `And we simply had to come here to welcome you,' said Miriam, the elder sister. `You must be tired after that drive. We won't stay. Donald and I live in Huntingdon and Becky and John live in Cambridge, and of course Nick's at the hospital there. We're all coming over for lunch tomorrow, but we couldn't wait...'

  They left presently, and Katrina was sat down and plied with coffee and sandwiches, watched over by her future mother-in-law and a small stout woman, Dolly, the housekeeper. Katrina ate and drank obediently, and in between answered Mrs Glenville's kindly questions and looked around her.

  The room was large, with tall narrow windows draped in heavy velvet curtains. It was panelled, like the hall, and there were rugs on the wooden floor. There were Georgian wing armchairs and two magnificent sofas, buttoned and covered in the same rich wine-red of the curtains, and a number of small tables were scattered round. There was a walnut bureau cabinet against one wall, and a glass-fronted display cabinet facing it, and a brass lantern clock above the marble fireplace. A lovely, lived-in room.

  `Tomorrow, if Simon will spare you for an hour, we will go round the house,' said Mrs Glenville comfortably. `And now you are to go to bed, my dear.'

  Simon had been standing by the window, watching the dogs outside, talking to his father. He crossed the room as his mother spoke.

  `Your room has a balcony. You'd like to have Betsy with you, wouldn't you?'

  The small thoughtful kindness brought unexpected tears to Katrina's eyes. `You don't mind? She'll be good...' . `My dear,' declared Mrs Glenville, `cats and dogs wander all over this house, and when the boys were young we had tame rats as well.'

  She kissed Katrina. `Sleep well, Katrina. I'll come to your room with you.'

  Simon's father bade her goodnight too, and Simon went to the door to open it. His mother went past him with a smile, but he caught Katrina in a vast hug and kissed her soundly. She kissed him back, which encouraged him to kiss her again. `Goodnight, my love, my very dear love.'

  She treasured the words as she followed Mrs Glenville upstairs to the wide landing. Mrs Glenville opened a door. `Dolly will have put your things away, dear. Your b
athroom's next door, and if you want anything do ask. I'm sure you came away in a hurry.'

  The room was pretty; when Mrs Glenville had gone Katrina wandered round admiring the chintz curtains and the bedspread, the thick carpet underfoot and the little pink lamps each side of the bed. The furniture was of some light wood, and someone had thoughtfully laid out brush and comb, hairpins and hairspray. The balcony was small, and she found Betsy there, sitting in her basket in a composed fashion. Someone had fed her, for there was a saucer by her. Katrina marvelled at the thoughtfulness of her hostess, and at a moment's notice too.

  She undressed then, and had a bath in the small bathroom leading from her room. And although someone had unpacked her toothbrush and soap, and anything else she had swept into her sponge bag at a moment's notice, there were enough soaps and lotions and bath luxuries there to keep her happy for a week.