“You will never convince me that it is right.”
“Then let us say no more about it.”
They returned to the ground floor and thence outside. Kent punctiliously locked the door and replaced the key under its stone. They rode on to Welwood, left the note for Eustace who was away from home, and then rode back to Birchall in near silence. Kent made a few attempts to initiate conversation, but Katherine was too dazed to respond.
When she reached Cathcart House, he lifted her down from her horse, and this time his hands rested on her waist a little longer than necessary.
“I should be very sorry if this has damaged your good opinion of me,” he said quietly.
“It would not do so if you were to give it up,” she said.
He sighed. “I wish I could but it is a question of loyalty to… to those involved. The men depend on the income to feed their families. I cannot expect them to take the risk of being caught if I take no risk myself.”
“I understand you,” she said. “Goodbye, Mr Atherton.”
“Goodbye, Katherine. I hope we shall ride again very soon.”
She turned and walked slowly into the house, and straight up the stairs to her room. There were no tears. The matter was too serious for weeping.
It was the best day of her life, the day that Kent Atherton had kissed her and as good as told her he loved her.
It was the worst day of her life, for she knew beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt that she could never marry him.
For many days, and nights too, she fretted anxiously over her new knowledge. It was only after a particularly prolonged session of prayers at the rail of the Lady Chapel that she rose from her knees, her mind clear at last.
She knew what she must do.
***
Kent’sspiritswerelow.How could he have been so foolish as to reveal the smuggling operation to Katherine? The day had been so wonderful up to that point, and that moment on the balcony was one that would linger in his memory for ever. She was so trusting, so sweet, so innocent that he had been quite unable to resist her, entirely comfortable with the idea that he would marry her, in time.
But then he had remembered her insistence that there should be no secrets between husband and wife, and this was such a big secret that it could not be concealed indefinitely. Once they were married, he could not disappear for whole nights without raising suspicions in her mind, so she had to know… yet now she despised him, and he had no idea how to rectify the situation.
For some days, rain prevented any riding for pleasure, and he did not see Katherine at all. Eustace returned from wherever he had been — no one ever knew where Eustace went to, for he was always dashing about here and there, without a word to anyone.
‘Brother, I received your note about the tower, and have examined it carefully, but can find no trace now of anyone staying there. There is no bag to be found, and the blankets on the pallet are all neatly folded, with no plates or other items out of place. I can only conclude that some itinerant broke in, stayed for a few nights living on the meagre supplies in the store room, and when those were exhausted, moved on. There is no cause for alarm, therefore, although we might want to think of a less obvious place to hide the key. E.’
As the days slid past, Kent began to feel that he had made too much of Katherine’s reaction to the smuggling. She was a very upright person herself, so naturally it was a shock to her. Once she grew accustomed to the idea, she would think no more of it than anyone else. So when the rain continued, he called at Cathcart House but was unlucky enough to find her not at home. He sent a posy of flowers from the Corland hothouses, and a little note expressing the hope that he would see her again soon. There was nothing more he could do.
But then he received a terse note from Sir Hubert Strong asking him to call at Birchall House. Sir Hubert was the local magistrate and a genial sort of fellow, so Kent was unprepared for his worried face.
“A damnable business, Atherton,” Sir Hubert said, pressing a glass of something into his hand. “Quite damnable. Sit, will you, and I shall explain as succinctly as I can.”
“Whatever is it, sir?” Kent said, now thoroughly alarmed.
“I hardly know how to say this.” Sir Hubert rubbed his face tiredly. “The nub of the matter is this — someone has laid a charge against you.”
“A charge? Against me? What sort of charge?”
“Smuggling,” he said. “I have been told that you are operating a smuggling business from the tower at Welwood. You may guess whence this information emanates, I imagine.”
Kent set down his glass abruptly, for the wine tasted of ashes in his mouth. “Katherine Parish.”
“Indeed. Atherton, I am not cognisant of all that goes on in this parish, and my wife tells me I must be the world’s least observant magistrate, but even I was aware that… well, not to put too fine a point on it, that there was an understanding between the two of you. And now this! It is unfathomable to me.”
“And to me,” Kent said, jumping up and pacing across the room, too restless to be still. “I thought… it was better for her to know, and she disapproved, she made that very plain, but I did not expectthis.”
“Disapproved! Aye, she disapproves all right. Asked me to use my powers as magistrate to warn you off — persuade you to give it up, as she put it. Talked a great deal about sin, and quoted the Bible at me. I had a very uncomfortable half hour, I can tell you.”
