I hovered in the doorway,far longer than I ought, before Stevens pulled me away to dress for dinner. Katherine never once noticed me, too lost in the notes around her.
Already seated in the dining room when I arrived, she was once again settled beside me instead of in her proper position at the other end of the table. I much preferred her by my side. She was still in that dark, red-pink gown that highlighted curves without detracting from her natural beauty. Her cheeks were still flushed from her exertions. Glancing up from her place setting, she offered me a small, tightlipped smile.
“Hello,” my voice cracked, and I had to clear my throat before continuing. “I heard you playing earlier. Did you have someone in to tune it?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I not have?”
“Of course you should. We should see about getting an instrument for the London house as well. I had nearly forgotten your exceptional talent.”
The footman arrived with the soup. She remained silent until he left before dipping her spoon. “I would never say no to a piano, but I’m certain ‘exceptional’ is far beyond my talents.”
“It is not.” Her eyes snapped to me, a turbulent turquoise in the light of the tapers. I could not fully read her expression. I expected a pleased response but there was an edge that I had not anticipated and could not name.
“I understand you went to the vicarage today.” I said, changing the unexpectedly tumultuous subject.
“Yes, we are in desperate need of a housekeeper, at least one maid and a footman as well. Mrs. Hughes was able to point me in the direction of both a housekeeper and footman.”
“That will save us the effort of putting a notice out. I would not have thought to consult her.”
“Mama always knows who is hiring or who is in need of employment. I also thought to start making charitable visits to tenants. Vicars’ wives always know who is in need of what.”
She was going to visit the tenants? I had heard of such things of course, but it was never something Mother did. The idea of my wife, caring for my tenants, making a home here; it caused a warmth to swell in my chest. “That is a good notion. Have you given thought to improvements you might wish to make to the house?”
“Some. Anything that can be purchased locally, I would like to do so. It will take longer but it is good for the community, and I believe the quality will be better. I’ve always found that local craftsmen have a sense of pride in their work, particularly when they know it will be displayed to great advantage.” Her posture loosened as she spoke, relaxing into her convictions. I could not disagree with her assessment.
Still, I had hoped she would make changes to her bedroom sooner rather than later. It was… disconcerting, to visit her in what had been Mother’s chambers. Mother’s scent had not had the opportunity to dissipate last night and it was something of a distress. One night and I had begun to miss the jasmine and orange blossom essence that permeated Katherine’s room in London. And her person if I were honest.
“You went riding, I understand.”
“Yes, I inspected a few of the farms.” While racing through them at a gallop. “Do you ride?”
She hesitated for a moment, as though the simple question was a trap. “Yes, I enjoy riding.” Katherine finally added, slowly, parsing each word as she spoke.
“Perhaps some time you might join me?” She merely nodded in answer, turning distractedly to the footman as he brought in the pheasant.
Though it was perhaps more than we had spoken at once in the entirety of our marriage, I could not help but lament the uneasy silence when it returned. Somehow, I had said the wrong thing. Again. What it was or why it was wrong remained a mystery. But I did seem to possess a talent for it.
Twenty
GRAYSON HOUSE, LONDON - JANUARY 10, 1814
KATE
Country living suited me.I made friends with the tenants, hired a housekeeper, began replacing furnishings, had somewhat stilted supper conversations with my husband, and settled into something like a life. But ever looming was the threat of town, of returning to the strict social protocols, of living with Agatha once again. I fearedthatmost of all.
When the time came, I was not ready for it. The carriage sped across the countryside with alarming ease. Never before had I prayed for a rut or downed tree on a journey, but I did that day. No catastrophe of the sort befell us.
We arrived back in town only a day before Tom returned with Agatha. One final reprieve.
Once again, we had a quiet supper, just the two of us. An idea had been nagging me for the past week or so. It consisted of one part desire to mend fences, and two parts desire to have Tom act as a buffer between Agatha and myself. Positive this would be my last opportunity, I finally broached it. “In the country, my parents always hosted a weekly dinner where any family nearby was expected to attend. Do you think perhaps we could try that here? Invite Tom weekly?”
My husband answered distractedly, moving his asparagus around his plate more than eating it. “Certainly, that sounds like a fine idea.”
Now for the real trick… “I was wondering, if it would, perhaps, be a nice gesture to invite Michael? I would like to meet him.”
His eyes snapped from his plate to mine, expression unreadable. “You wish to invite Michael?”
“Yes.” No wavering, no hedging. I knew little of the man, but what I did was intriguing. Mrs. Hughes and the other tenants spoke exceedingly highly of him. Anna considered him to be one of her dearest friends. And Agatha seemed to hate the man with every fiber of her being which was quite the endorsement as far as I was concerned.
