Sally James (25 page)

Kate discovered she had some talent for acting. Annabelle, who had assumed the role of director, ordained she would play Kate in a scene from
The Taming of the Shrew,
to Sir Robert Kenton's Petruchio.

Annabelle had mellowed during the first few days of the festivities. Perhaps it was Adam's constant attentions to her. Whatever the cause she became gracious and exerted herself, rather as a hostess would, Kate thought, disgruntled, to making sure everyone was happy.

'And we must do the balcony scene. We could use the minstrel's gallery. I have played Juliet before, so I already know it, and you, Adam, ought to be Romeo,' Annabelle declared eagerly.

Adam raised quizzical eyebrows. 'My dear Annabelle, Romeo was a dozen or more years younger than I am,' he protested, laughing, but Kate thought she detected a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes at this open declaration of preference for him.

'Pooh, that is of no account, Adam, and I doubt whether any of the Carfax boys could sustain the part,' Annabelle said coaxingly. 'Do say you will, Adam.'

'No, I must disappoint you, my dear. I am far too ancient to act the lovesick youth,' he said firmly. 'And to use the gallery we must perform in the old Hall, which would be far too cold. I had thought to use the Chinese saloon.'

'Oh, very well, if you insist. Then I mean to play a breeches part, which I have always longed to do,' Annabelle somewhat petulantly announced. 'Should it be Viola? But then we need someone similar to me to play Sebastian, and all the men are far too tall.'

'Surely the twins are made for those parts,' Adam said.

One of the twins, Kate still could not tell whether it was Barbara or Elizabeth, hastily declined the suggestion.

'Thank you, but we couldn't do such big parts!'

'We don't mind playing maids or having one or two lines to say, but we can't remember so many lines,' the other added.

'Kate could do it, she is as tall as Matthew Carfax, and he is almost as slight as she is,' Sir Robert suggested, but Annabelle blandly ignored his intervention.

'I think it had better be Rosalind. But Adam, come with me and read some of the scenes.'

She vanished with Adam into the library, to consult the texts and determine which part she would prefer, leaving Kate and Sir Robert to plan their own performance.

Sir Robert Kenton was slightly younger than Adam, a tall, blond man, well over six feet tall and broad to match, with strong, regular features. Excelling at all sports, he was quiet and seemed somewhat diffident in company.  He had spoken no more than a few words to Kate in the three days he had been in the house.

Now, however, left to determine which scenes they should do, Kate found him a delightfully easy companion, gentle, considerate, and with a wry sense of humour that had her laughing for much of the time they were supposed to be rehearsing.

On most evenings the younger guests danced, persuading Miss Byford or Mrs Rhydd to play for them while the older people retired to a quieter room to play cards.

Kate revelled in all this, yet to her confused surprise found herself far more conscious than she wished to be of Adam's presence and the attentions he lavished on Annabelle.

He was scrupulously polite to all his guests, dancing with each of the ladies in turn, but Kate was sharply aware of the contrast between his cheerful vivacity when he was dancing with Annabelle and his brooding, almost total silence when she was his partner.

She could not refuse to dance with him, for that would have occasioned comment. She attempted one evening to usurp her aunt's position at the pianoforte, but was swiftly evicted by the combined efforts of Miss Byford and Sir Robert. She had to endure it.

These dances with the Earl were for Kate little less than torture. She found herself trembling uncontrollably long before it was his turn to approach her, and her hands were usually shaking nervously as he reached out for them. All the time, whether they were treading the stately measures of a minuet or twirling to the merry tune of a polka, she was remembering the feel of his arms crushing her to him, his shattering kisses, and his eyes dominating hers.

At least, she tried to console herself, for some days he had made no foolish statements about their marriage. She hoped that, with Annabelle to remind him of what he would have to forego if he were married, he had thought better of his promise made to her grandfather.

A conversation she overheard one morning gave her added hope that he would not pursue the matter.

Mrs Rhydd and Lady Fernleigh were strolling on the terrace one unusually mild day, and paused just by the window where Kate sat curled in a window seat attempting to learn her part as Kate. She had opened the casement a crack, for the sun shone full on it and she was hot, so their words came clearly to her.

'Has anything been decided yet?' Lady Fernleigh asked.

'Not yet,' Mrs Rhydd replied, 'although I have great hopes. I believe he has at last come to accept the old Earl was unfair in his demands.'

'He must have been mad!' Lady Fernleigh declared forthrightly. ‘I have never heard of anything so outrageous. And the child herself is hardly the sort of match you would wish for Adam, unlike my Margaret, for she - '

Kate, careless she might be heard, her cheeks flaming with a strange mixture of fury and embarrassment, slammed shut the window. Picking up her skirts, she fled in haste across the room and through the house to the refuge of her bedroom. Safe behind its door she flung herself down on the bed and pummelled the pillows furiously, wishing it was Lady Fernleigh receiving the vicious blows.

'Detestable woman!' Kate muttered through clenched teeth. 'I suppose everyone knows and is watching me to see what happens! Well, I wish he would make an offer for dear Margaret and be done with it!'

To her surprise and fury she found a tear trickling down her cheek, and angrily dashed it away. It was intolerable she should be subjected to gossip and speculation like this. The sooner Adam satisfied the wishes of the two mothers and offered for the so suitable Margaret the better it would be for everyone. Then, perhaps, she and Aunt Sophie might be permitted to return to Oxfordshire, and they could forget this nightmare. Then she thought of Sir Edward and knew this option would be intolerably selfish of her.

What was she to do?

After this she was more conscious than ever of the undercurrents. She was convinced everyone was watching Adam paying attentions to the other girls in the party and then looking at her to gauge her reactions. She did her best to thwart them by appearing quite unconcerned. Only in the privacy of her bedroom did she allow herself to wonder whether she was acting most convincingly in her role as Kate, or during the rest of the time as the carefree Kate Byford, oblivious of meaning glances or speculative stares.

It was Sir Robert's friendliness and cheerful companionship that helped her survive without the storms of fury she would have indulged in a few short months ago. When she found it unendurable to be with the others she could always depend on him to agree to another rehearsal.

As a result their scenes were by far the most successful when the performance was staged. This was in the largest of the saloons, decorated in the Chinese style, after dinner on the final night before most of the guests departed.

Mrs Rhydd had a frown between her eyes, and Kate thought Lady Fernleigh's affability a trifle forced. Annabelle seemed to be in high spirits, but she missed several cues, and snapped angrily at her sister, who had reluctantly taken on a small part, when Margaret forgot her own lines.

Kate caught Lady Fernleigh looking anxiously at her towards the end of the evening, when the chairs had been moved aside and the carpet rolled up so that the entire party could join in the dancing.

Adam had danced first with Annabelle, but it was clear they were not on their usual terms, though Annabelle carried on in her normal flirtatious manner. Adam, although polite, responded with little more than faint smiles, and when that dance ended bowed to Annabelle and then came across the room to Kate.

'You are a talented actress,' he commented as Miss Byford began to play a waltz. 'I enjoyed your performance better than any of the others. Did you have amateur performances in your village?'

'No, I have never before done anything like it,' Kate replied.

'Then it must be a natural talent,' he murmured, and she cast a suspicious look up at him. He was laughing down at her, and the look in his eyes was so warm that she blushed and turned her head hastily away.

'A natural talent to deceive, you mean?' she asked rather breathlessly - her aunt was playing the waltz tune rather quickly - and he chuckled.

'That was not what I meant, and I hope it is not true, unless you are deceiving yourself,' he responded.

Kate frowned, wondering what he could possibly mean, but he went on to discuss the other scenes and she soon forgot the puzzle.

'Robert is staying on for a few more days,' he mentioned casually as the waltz came to an end. 'I am pleased to see you and he have become friends. I've known him all my life and he's a good fellow.'

With that he bowed and left her, and soon Sir Robert came to claim her for the next dance. The evening ended shortly afterwards and Kate went to bed, but not to sleep.

Had Mrs Rhydd really hoped Adam might have offered for Margaret despite his declared intention of fulfilling her grandfather's wishes? What did he intend to do?

She was, finally, dropping into a doze when she recalled his words about Sir Robert and came fully awake once more. She had been aware the baronet's attentions towards her were becoming more marked. Apart from their need to rehearse together, he sought her out on every possible occasion, and danced with her as often as politeness to the other ladies permitted.

Had Adam noticed this, and were his words meant to convey his approval of their friendship? Why, apart from Sir Robert's longstanding acquaintance with Adam, should he regard such a friendship with favour? Would a match between herself and Sir Robert in some way please him, release him from his promise in a manner he found acceptable?

Kate shrugged impatiently. She was reading far too much into casual remarks and even more casual glances. Sir Robert was just friendly, even possibly shy, and they had been thrown together by the rehearsals.

She sighed, twisted over once more, turned the pillows yet again, and eventually fell into a troubled sleep. When the maid brought her chocolate it was only by the greatest effort of will that she struggled out of bed to dress and go downstairs to wish the departing guests farewell.

Sir George was fussing about the horses, his wife cool and preoccupied with ensuring all their baggage had been properly bestowed. Mrs Rhydd was effusive with good wishes for the journey and the rest of their stay in the country, at their own house in Yorkshire, and full of suggestions for meetings when they were all once more in Town. Annabelle, who was going with her husband to visit other friends in York, was in brittle high spirits. Margaret effaced herself as usual.

Adam remained calm, aloof, but perfectly affable. Only when he was handing Annabelle into the coach did he pause after kissing her hand, smile down into her vivid, upturned face, and say something softly which caused her to laugh suddenly, and smile at him with a sudden radiance.

It was a fine day and Sir Robert suggested he and Kate might go for a short ride. Several other members of the party were leaving later that day, and Kate felt obliged, as a temporary member of the family, to be at home to see them off. But she needed a blow of fresh air to shake the tiredness from her, so they set off for a short ride through the park which surrounded the house.

'I am glad to get you alone for a few moments,' Sir Robert said slowly when they dropped into a trot after the first canter. 'Is Adam or your aunt your guardian?'

Kate stared at him in surprise. 'My aunt,' she said. 'Why?'

'I just wondered. It was such a surprise to us all when you appeared. I'm not sure if the people round about even knew of your existence. You spent several weeks in London with your grandfather, didn't you?'

She agreed. 'I felt sorry for him, at the end.'

'I imagine Adam will feel it incumbent on him to marry now,' he said thoughtfully, and Kate glanced at him. Had Adam told him of her grandfather's demands? Perhaps the gossip about the earl's will that Adam had intimated was rife on the estate had not reached him. Dared she ask him about Annabelle and Adam?

'Has Margaret any suitors?' she asked instead.

'I believe there is a cousin, a penniless but honest fellow, who has offered for her,' Sir Robert replied. 'Her father was obviously hoping for a better match, but the poor girl is not pretty, and is overshadowed by her sister. It must be very sad for her, she is a pleasant girl when Annabelle is not present. At one time I thought Adam might offer for her.'

'I thought he was once in love with Annabelle,' she said, her face averted to hide the flush brought on by her temerity.

'Once, when he was very young,' Sir Robert replied. 'Now they are just friends, and enjoy flirting. Wilson's a dull fellow but Annabelle, despite appearances, is devoted to him.'

The words brought Kate no comfort. Sir Robert didn't live in London, and he seemed an honest, straightforward man who would believe what others told him. Then she wondered why she cared.

'How long has Sir Edward been a widower?' she asked.

'Since the boy was born.'

Long enough to forget a wife, but it was odd he hadn't already married again, if only to provide a mother for his children. He was handsome, and she had discovered he had a big estate nearby, as well as mining interests in Nottinghamshire.

She shivered. Would he and her aunt wish to marry? Sir Robert saw but misunderstood.

'You are cold. Let's go back now,' he suggested and Kate gladly agreed. She wanted no more conversations about possible marriages for either Adam or her aunt.

They sat down six for dinner. Sir Edward was the only other guest who remained, since his children had departed to stay with their uncle.  Everyone was subdued, and there were no suggestions for dancing or any energetic activity after dinner. The men lingered over their port, and soon after the tea tray had been brought in Mrs Rhydd broke up the party by suggesting they all had an early night.