CHAPTER TWO
Two weeks later, Kate and Harriet arrived at Clematis Villa in the early evening, but although Mr Freeman had assured her that Joseph would be looking out for them, there was no sign of him. Kate was a little cast down. She guessed it was because their coach had needed a wheel changing on the way. By the time they’d hired a cab in Brighton to bring them up to the house, it was far later than she’d expected.
Harriet was openly fretting. ‘Should we go and find Joseph? You said he lived nearby, Miss Kate.’
Kate shook her head. ‘No need. I have a key, and we have brought everything we want for a comfortable night.’
Her anxiety lifted a little as she walked up the path to the front door. The house was as pretty as she remembered, with its half-timbered walls and diamond-paned windows—tall arched ones on the ground floor and small ones upstairs that peeped out from under the gabled roof. To the side of the building was a stone-built stable, with an old-fashioned gig standing close by. Kate drew closer to the stable and to her delight, an old grey pony peered inquisitively from his stall.
‘This is my aunt’s pony, Rupert,’ Kate explained to Harriet, who had come to join her. Kate fondled his shaggy mane and Rupert nuzzled her arm. ‘I do believe he remembers me!’
It was clear that Joseph was still taking care of everything well. The nearby rose beds glowed with colour, and from the herb plot came the musky aromas of thyme and rosemary.So much to explore again,thought Kate. So many happy times to remember.
During the journey, Harriet had asked her how she intended to occupy her time, and when Kate offered vague words about gardening or walking in the hills, Harriet’s face had fallen. ‘But miss, won’t you want to see something of Brighton society? I’ve heard that lots of fine ladies and gents flock there in the summer. Surely you’d like to join in the fun?’
Fun? thought Kate. To sit by oneself at a party? To be sniggered at, or worse still, pitied? ‘I’m quite happy to avoid the town’s summer entertainments. But I shall enjoy the scenery, and the peace and quiet.’
‘I’ll enjoy the peace too,’ said Harriet, ‘but Rosie and Elijah were upset that you were leaving, weren’t they?’
That was true. They’d hugged her hard before she left, and Kate had hugged them back. Poor things, it wasn’t their fault they’d been so spoiled. Meanwhile, there was still an hour or two of daylight for them to explore the house and garden, but she was struggling a little getting the front door unlocked, and Harriet had wandered off to admire the nearby roses.
All of a sudden, though, Kate heard her squeal, and she turned quickly. ‘Harriet! What is it?’
She wondered if Harriet had been pricked by a rose thorn or even stung by a bee, but no: Harriet appeared to have picked something up and was looking at it dubiously. ‘Miss,’ she said at last, ‘it’s a lady’s garter.’
What?Kate went to see for herself.
Yes, it was indeed a garter. It was pink, it was lacy and it had little red heart-shaped buttons sewn on it. Harriet was watching her uneasily, but Kate found herself smothering a chuckle.
You don’t know what awaits you there, had been Monica’s parting words.You have no idea what our Aunt Jemima has been up to these last few years.Well, perhaps her aunt might have had some fun before she died. Kate sincerely hoped so.
Once more she wrestled with the key until at last the door opened, and she stepped inside to realise, with much relief, that nothing had changed. There were still bowls of dried lavender on the windowsills, the same old but comfortable furniture stood in every room and the framed samplers that her aunt had loved to embroider decorated the walls.
For a moment she felt a wave of loss.If only her mother and Jemima were still here. But then Harriet touched her arm. ‘It’s lovely, Miss Kate. Just like you said.’
Kate swallowed down the lump in her throat. ‘Indeed. Let’s bring our luggage in, shall we? Then while it’s still daylight, I would love to go out and explore.’
‘I’ll come with you. I’ll do whatever you want, Miss Kate.’
‘And you mustn’t keep calling me “Miss Kate”. We are friends, remember?’
‘Yes, Miss Kate.’
‘But I just said… Oh, never mind.’
They brought in their scanty luggage then went outside again. Though the house was less than half a mile from Brighton’s centre, it was beautifully secluded, surrounded as it was by acres of her aunt’s wooded garden. Much of it was in a delicious state of semi-wildness, and Kate remembered every twisting path between the trees, every leafy dell where, in summer, spikes of red and white foxgloves thrust up towards the light. She knew too the little hill you could climb, from where there were views of the gentle hills of the South Downs and the azure expanse of the sea.
With Harriet at her side, she set off through the woods along a track that she knew would take her to an open areaof grassland known as The Pasture, which Jemima let a local farmer use for grazing his sheep. Kate had explained this to Harriet, who had eagerly gone on ahead, but all of a sudden she was running back. ‘Kate!’ she called. ‘There’s some sort of party, at the big house. And there are men, splashing around in the lake!’
Kate felt an unpleasant jolt of alarm. ‘Harriet, whatever are you talking about? What big house? What lake?’
Harriet pointed and set off again, while Kate, her anxiety rising, did her best to hurry after her. Through the tangle of bushes, she could already see lights shining and hear music and laughter. How could this be, on her aunt’s land? Whatever was happening?
She reached the edge of the woods and halted in disbelief.
Where once sheep had peacefully grazed, there were manicured lawns lit by dozens of outdoor lamps. Overlooking it all was a vast white mansion with liveried footmen standing on either side of the pillared entrance serving drinks. Music from a string orchestra floated out through the open windows and dozens of people in fine clothes wandered around with glasses in their hands.
Kate thought,I must be dreaming. This cannot be real.
