“What will you do?”
He sighed. “Miss Parish was very anxious to ensure that you would not hang. As if I would drag you off to the Assizes — the son of an earl, and a man of good unblemished character heretofore! Not that I could explain the way these things work, not to a young lady. But she has officially informed me of the matter, and therefore I must investigate, of course. Impossible to ignore so serious a charge. However, I believe…” He chewed his lip, looking speculatively at Kent. “I believe it will take me some days to gather together the necessary men for such an investigation. Wednesday, perhaps? At noon?”
Kent nodded. “Wednesday. Very well.”
Sir Hubert nodded, satisfied. “Good, good. I can leave that with you, then.”
Kent rode at once to Welwood. Eustace was away again, having stopped only one night, but Wallace, the head groom, was one of the regulars at the tower, and undertook to ensure that no trace of illegal activity would remain by Wednesday.
And then there was nothing for Kent to do but seethe with rage, and wonder that he could ever have been so foolish as to want to marry a woman like Katherine Parish.
That Sunday, he made a point of attending the service at St Timothy’s, knowing that she would be there. After the service, he made straight for her, where she stood in a cluster of Cathcarts.
“Miss Parish. A word, if you please.”
The colour flared in her cheeks, and for an instant he feared she would refuse, but she nodded and stepped a little aside with him to a quiet spot beside a yew tree.
“How dared you!” he hissed, as soon as they were far enough away from listening ears. “I trusted you with my secret, and you go running to the magistrate with the tale. What did you think you would achieve? Do you not understand thatallthe gentry for miles around benefit from our little scheme? Just as well, for otherwise we could all be hauled before a judge for it.”
“Which is precisely why you should not be doing such a terrible thing.”
“It is harmless.”
“It isillegal!A hanging offence!”
“Do you want me to hang, is that it? Do you hate me so much that you would see me swing from a gibbet?”
The colour flared again, and this time it was anger, not embarrassment. “You know I do not hate you, but I cannot stand aside and watch you walk into darkness. What is your life compared to your immortal soul? If you repent of your sins, you may yet be saved.”
“I thought we understood each other. I even dared to imagine a future with you, but how can I trust you after such a betrayal? Where is your loyalty to me?”
“My loyalty is to a higher power - the laws of man and of God.”
“What an insufferably sanctimonious woman you are. Thank heavens I found out your true nature before it was too late. Goodbye, Miss Parish.”
17: Tonkins Farm
Katherinehadknownfromthe day at the tower that her hopes of marrying Kent were entirely gone, but it was not until she saw the raw anger in his face and heard his words of contempt that she understood just what she had lost. When he spoke of betrayal and lack of trust, she saw it for the first time from his point of view. He hated her! He had kissed her so tenderly, and now he hated and despised her, and she was not sure that she did not despise herself.
Grief rose up inside her until she felt as if she were drowning. Weeping bitter tears, she walked home as fast as she could, heedless of the rest of the family. Behind her, she heard Aveline’s shrill voice asking what had happened, followed by her aunt’s low murmur, and after that they followed her in silence.
She went straight to her room, and threw herself onto the bed in despair, her tears an unstoppable flood. Her aunt came into the room a little while later, persuading her out of bonnet and pelisse, and closing the curtains.
“I have brought some wine, dear,” she said, her voice so soft, so sympathetic. “You will feel better if you have a little sip now and then.”
There was no wine on earth that could make her feel better, but obediently she sat up and took a mouthful, as her aunt held the glass for her.
“There now, that will do you good, I am persuaded. Dearest, do you want to talk about it?”
Katherine shook her head.
“Very well. I will not press you, for I can see that something serious has occurred. I must ask one thing, however. Has Mr Atherton behaved at all improperly towards you?”
“No. No, aunt.”
“He has not asked you to do anything which would make you uncomfortable?”
“No.” She sniffed, accepted a handkerchief proffered by her aunt and blew her nose. How could she explain it? “We had… a difference of opinion… a fundamental difference.”
