Kent jumped to his feet. “I beg your pardon! How rag-mannered of me. Mr Kent Atherton at your service, ma’am.” He made her a respectful bow.
“Oh, MrAtherton?MrKentAtherton? The earl’s youngest son, then. Oh, I’ve heard all about you, and how kind you were to Katy when she first arrived.‘May you find some small ray of hope every day to enchant you and relieve your sadness for a while.’That was what you said to her. Oh, don’t colour up like that, Katy dear, that letter’s been read by everyone in Branton. Mrs Tybald was moved to tears by it. All Katy’s letters are read out loud to all our friends, Mr Atherton, and we was all shocked to pieces to hear of the trouble that’s come to your family. A murder! Such wickedness in the world, and now it turns out the clergyman was never ordained, seemingly. Is that so, sir? For Katy won’t talk about that, says it’s all gossip and she don’t like to trade in gossip. But you live in the castle, don’t you? What a fine thing! And here you are, unpicking knots, and you the son of an earl. Well, everyone will be so interested when I tell them back in Branton.”
“Branton… is that where you come from, Miss Parish?”
She nodded.
“Strange. For some reason, I thought it was Lancaster.” In fact, he recalled Mrs Cathcart saying so.
“Near…” she began, her voice a whisper. “Lancaster is the nearest large town.”
He so much wanted to see that animated face again that he said impulsively, “Tell me about Branton, Miss Parish.”
She blushed even more strongly, if such a thing were possible, then gave the tiniest shake of her head.
“A fine town, sir, very fine,” Mrs Vance said robustly. “Very forward looking.”
Amused, Kent’s hands stilled on the current knot and looked up at her. “Forward looking? In what way?”
“Very modern,” she said firmly. “Is there any more of this delicious wine?”
Laughing, he jumped to his feet and took the empty glass from her hand. “Would you like a piece of cake as well?”
“Now, that would be most agreeable, sir.”
He returned to the drawing room, the hum of conversation lapsing into silence as he entered.
“Mr Atherton,” Mrs Cathcart trilled. “So glad you could join us again. Would you care to—?”
“I am only here momentarily,” Kent said smoothly. “I find that in all the excitement, Mrs Vance’s refreshments have been overlooked.”
He filled a plate with an array of cakes and pastries, refilled the glass and then, with some juggling from hand to hand, tucked the decanter under one arm and strode out of the room, trying very hard not to laugh at the shock on Mrs Cathcart’s face.
Reaching the closed parlour door, he stopped, daunted. There was no servant to be seen. Instead, he found Olivia behind him. “You are wicked!” she whispered, grinning at him.
She had remembered to bring her plate with her, he noticed, still laden with cake. “Is that your third slice or fourth?”
“Third… I think. I have lost count rather. It is very good. Is she dreadfully vulgar? Mrs Cathcart looks as if she has eaten a whole lemon.”
“Mrs Cathcart is unspeakably rude to a friend of Miss Parish’s. Sister, are you going to stand there all day, or shall you open this door? My hands are rather full.”
Giggling, she opened it and followed him into the parlour. Mrs Vance’s eyes brightened at the mound of food on the plate and the nearly full decanter.
“Ah, you are a gentleman, sir. How very kind of you. Oh!” Her eye fell on Olivia. “Now let me guess… small, dark, beautifully proportioned and pretty as paint — you must be the Lady Olivia, my dear.”
Olivia actually blushed.
“What a delightful compliment,” Kent said, amused. “I must suppose that is from another of your letters, Miss Parish?”
But that only made Miss Parish blush even harder. While he had been gone, she had loosened several more knots, and as Olivia sat down to discuss the cake with Mrs Vance, as one connoisseur to another, Kent released the final few lengths of cord, and gently unwrapped the gift. It was a small cabinet in the delicate modern style, with two doors that concealed an array of drawers within. Miss Parish uttered a cry of delight.
“My music cabinet… and all the music still within! Oh, Mrs Vance, how came you by it? For the bailiffs took it, I saw them.”
And she burst into tears.
“There was a great auction of all the household items, dearie, and Mr Vance authorised Mr Monteath to buy a few pieces that I’d set my heart on. That lovely black and gold table you had in the hall, and the two vases that always stood there — they are in my hall now, and very much admired, I can tell you. And I bought a silver coffee set that I gave your mama and papa when they married, or at least, it may not be the exact one, but very like it. Mr Monteath bought your pianoforte for Annabelle, so you knowthat’sgone to a good home. Mr Moreton bought the whole dining set, and some of the pictures, too, and Mr Ridwell bought some paintings, too. Oh, and John Dyson bought the portrait of your mama with Harold as a baby. He always was sweet on her, you know, and now he’s going to have her hanging in his study.”
And all the time Miss Parish was weeping, and pulling out favourite pieces of music, murmuring, “Haydn… Mozart… Boccherini… Bach…”
