“There now, I knew you’d be glad to have it back,” Mrs Vance said with a smile of satisfaction. “My, this cake is so good. This will put me on beautifully till dinner, I declare.”
“A little more Madeira, ma’am?”
“I don’t mind if I do. Thirsty work, all this talking, don’t you think?”
Kent agreed to it, and topped up her glass again, and wondered if Miss Parish would ever stop crying. At least she was not blushing any more, and he could admire her smooth cheeks while they were pale, for once. Yes, definitely prettier than the Cathcart girls.
6: Horses And Engines
Katherinefoundtherewasa subtle change in the house after Mrs Vance’s visit. Nothing was said openly, at least not by Aunt Cathcart, and Aveline’s hostility still smouldered, but there was some shift in the air. It was hard to pin down, but was definitely there.
The first tangible sign was when Aunt Cathcart took Katherine to Helmsley to be fitted for a new riding habit. She had brought two with her, but they were not fashionable enough for Aunt Cathcart.
“All this walking about is all very well, but for proper exercise you need to ride more,” she told Katherine as the carriage brought them home. “There is a very docile mare in the stables that the girls no longer need, so you can have exclusive use of that.”
“Thank you, aunt. I should like that very much, if you can spare me now and then.”
Her aunt smiled and patted her gloved hand. “Well, now, Katherine, I believe I can. It seems to me that you are not at all comfortable with the formality of our life here — the morning calls and so forth, and perhaps I have been too hard on you, expecting you to join in everything, just as Aveline does. You need a little more time to accustom yourself to our ways. So from now on, you may choose whether to make or receive calls, and if you prefer not to, why then you may ride on those afternoons, and no one will think anything of it. We may tell our friends that it is for your health, for we would not want anyone to imagine that we have quarrelled, or anything of that nature.”
“No, indeed, aunt!”
“Besides, who knows who you might meet if you are out and about,” she added, with a sly smile. “If you go out at two o’clock, you will have time to ride for a couple of hours, and leave yourself plenty of time to dress for dinner. You can take Marlowe with you. He knows all the routes safe for a lady.”
“Very well, aunt,” Katherine said. This was better! She would be up on the hills in the clean, fresh air instead of trying to hide in a corner of the drawing room, or, even worse, attempting to make conversation. Two or three times a week she would have two hours entirely to herself, to think her own thoughts and not have to pretend that she belonged in this strange, rigid society, where every day brought new challenges and the possibility of some misstep that would bring censure down on her head. Her aunt was very kind, but Katherine was still terrified of putting a foot wrong.
And she could think happier thoughts, too, like remembering the glorious day when Mr Kent Atherton had spent half an hour with her in the parlour, unwrapping her music cabinet and talking in the most civil manner to Mrs Vance, which was more than Aunt Cathcart could bring herself to do.
Sadly, the docile mare was exactly as described, so there was no possibility of getting up a turn of speed. Nor could she wander where she wanted, for Aunt Cathcart gave the groom strict instructions for each outing, which seemed to be limited to the two villages of Birchall and Corland, and their immediate environs.
The second change was entirely accidental. She had gone to the rectory to sew one afternoon, and ended with a visit to the church to pray for a while. There was someone there already, a young girl in homespun clothing weeping piteously at the Lady Chapel altar rail.
“Oh, my dear, whatever is the matter?” Katherine said gently, kneeling beside her. “Is life so troublesome just now?”
“Oh! Oh, no, I’m very lucky, miss… I live with me uncle now, and he’s very kind to me.” With a convulsive sob, she wiped her face with her sleeve, a rather grubby sleeve, it had to be said.
“I know what that is like,” Katherine said, with a little smile. “I live with my uncle too, and he is also very kind. But it is not like one’s own family, is it? Are your parents dead?”
“Oh, no, miss! Me pa’s a farmer out Welwood way, but… it were best for me to come away, and me uncle said I could stay wi’ him for a while. Just until… well, when everything’s quietened down a bit.”
Katherine pondered this artless but rather baffling information, not liking to pry too much into the‘everything’that needed to quieten down before the girl could return home.
“Y’see, miss, I did a bad thing,” the girl went on.
“Oh, so your conscience is troubling you?” Katherine said. That, too, she could understand. One tried very hard to be good and avoid evil thoughts, but sometimes she could not quite suppress her resentment. Those times when Aveline had been particularly cutting or Aunt Cathcart made it very clear that Katherine’s father was an embarrassment or even when Jenny was kept so long by Susan and Lucinda that there was barely time for Katherine to scramble into her evening gown before dinner. Trivial incidents, but they rankled just the same.
The girl raised her tear-stained face, looking rather puzzled. “Well… I suppose. Just need to keep out of the way, because if I’m asked… not sure what to say. I mean,hetold me what to say, and I did it right enough, but… well, if I’m asked again, I might not say the right thing, see?”
Katherine was not entirely sure she did see. Tentatively, she said, “So, was it a lie, what you were told to say?”
The girl nodded.
“The best way to assuage your conscience over a lie is to tell the truth,” Katherine said firmly.
The girl blanched. “Ooh, miss, I couldn’t do that! It would upsethimto no end, that it would. No, all I’m s’posed to do is keep out of the way, like, in case… well, just in case. That’s why I’m here but me uncle’s a clerk with an attorney, so there’s not much for me to do. I wish I could go home. At least I’d be busy there.”
“There would be plenty of work in Birchall for you, if you want it, surely?”
“Who’d take me on, miss?” she said, giggling.
