Cousin Kate (31 page)

'Lord, no! he never does so!' said Torquil. 'He was getting up from the table when I came into the room! I daresay he's with my father.'

He then began to argue with the doctor about which horse should be harnessed to which vehicle; and Kate got up, and left the parlour while the respective merits of the whisky and the more fashionable tilbury were still being discussed.

There was no sign of Philip in any of the rooms on the entrance floor, so that unless he had retired upstairs to the library, he had either gone out, or was indeed sitting with his uncle. Kate, who had been longing to see him ever since she had awakened from an uneasy sleep, felt just a little ill-used. If he was anxious to see her, as surely he should have been, if he was really in love with her, he need not have come down to breakfast at an hour when he must have known she would not be present, she thought, forgetting that it was just possible that he might have wished to avoid meeting her in the presence of Torquil and the doctor. If he had gone out, or was visiting his uncle, it looked very much as if he were avoiding her; which must surely mean that he was trying to find a way of escaping his engagement. Kate, whose overnight lucubrations had led to an uneasy sleep, infested with worrying dreams, was hoping, without realizing it, for reassurance. She did not find it in the library, which was as empty as the saloons; and it was in a despairing mood that she came slowly down the stairs again, trying to persuade herself that it behoved her to make everything easy for Philip by telling him that, after thinking the matter over, she had come to the conclusion that she did not love him enough to marry him.

This melancholy resolve brought tears to her eyes, and although she resolutely wiped them away, she was obliged to keep one hand on the baluster rail, because her vision was still blurred. It cleared miraculously when she heard herself hailed by Mr Philip Broome, who appeared (as it seemed to her) from nowhere, and came up the stairs two at a time, exclaiming: 'Kate! I was coming in search of you! What's this Pennymore has been telling me? No, don't answer me! We can't talk on the stairs. Come down to the Red saloon, where we can be private!'

There was nothing at all lover-like, either in this imperious command, or in the ungentle grasp round her wrist; but the depression lifted from Kate's heart. As he almost dragged her down the stairs, she uttered a protest, which he most uncivilly disregarded, pulling her into the saloon, and shutting the door firmly. He then said, searching her face with hard, penetrating eyes: 'When I stepped out on to the terrace before breakfast, I found the carpenter mending one of the gun-room windows! Is it true that it was Torquil who broke in, yesterday, and stole one of my uncle's shotguns?'

'Why, yes!' she replied, tenderly massaging her wrist. 'I shall be excessively obliged to you - Cousin Philip! - if you will have the goodness to inform me of your intention when next you mean to manhandle me! You have bruised me to the bone!'

Swift amusement suddenly softened his eyes; he exclaimed: 'Oh, Kate, you dear rogue!
What
a plumper! Show me this bruise!'

'Very likely it won't be visible until tomorrow,' she said, with a dignity - that admirably concealed the intense pleasure she felt at being called a dear rogue.

'And still more likely that it will never become visible!' he retorted, advancing upon her, and possessing himself of both her hands, and holding them in a strong clasp. 'Stop bantering me, and tell me the truth! Did Torquil, in fact, try to shoot you?'

'Good God, no! Of course he didn't!' she replied. 'He tried to shoot a dog, and missed both the dog and me, for which I am heartily thankful! He's not fit to be trusted with guns, as I told him! I was in such a rage! But how did Pennymore know of it? He wasn't there! No one was there, except Badger, and, later, Dr Delabole!'

'One of the stable-hands saw you from the avenue, and was trying to summon up the pluck to dash to your help - or so he says - when the appearance of Badger on the scene relieved him of the necessity to show his mettle. The story had reached Pennymore's ears by the time you went to bed.'

'Grossly exaggerated, I make no doubt!'

'Very likely. Is it true that Torquil threatened to shoot Badger?'

'With an empty gun! He was only trying to frighten Badger! He gave the gun up to me the instant I told him to do so, and I promise you there is no need for you to be cast into high fidgets!'

'On the contrary, there is a very urgent need!' he said. 'Kate, let me take you away from this place!' His clasp tightened on her hands. 'It isn't safe for you to remain here, believe me!' He looked down into her upturned face, and deep into her eyes, his own glowing with a light which made her pulses jump. 'You
pretty
innocent!' he said, in a thickened voice, snatching her into his arms, and roughly kissing her. Then, as she burst into tears of relief, he slackened his embrace, and demanded: 'Why, Kate! Kate, my darling, what's the matter?'

'Oh, nothing, nothing!' she sobbed. 'Only I thought - I was afraid-that you might be regretting it! And although I think you
ought
to, I couldn't bear it if you did! And I
know
you haven't thought how you would like to be married to a female who has only her nurse to support her at the altar!'

His eyes laughed, but his voice was perfectly grave as he replied: 'You are very right! I
hadn't
thought of it. You wouldn't care, I suppose, to depend on
my
support, if your nurse should be unequal to the task?'

She gave a rather watery giggle, and subsided again on to his chest. 'Don't make game of me! You know very well what I mean! What would all your relations think?'

'Of course! That is a serious consideration. I wonder why it should not have occurred to me?' he said, apparently much struck. 'Could it have been because what they think doesn't seem to me to be of consequence?'

'It is of consequence to me,' she said, into his coat.

'Is it? Then there's only one thing for it! We must be married privately, by special licence!'

'Oh, Philip, as though that would make it any better! Do, do be serious!'

'I am being serious, little wet-goose. I am determined to remove you from Staplewood as soon as may be possible; and since neither of us, I hope, is so lost to all sense of propriety as to consider a flight to the Border to be pardonable in any but extremely ramshackle persons - what one might call the baggagery, you know! - I believe my best course will be to convey you to London, to the protection of your nurse, for just so long as it will take me to procure the special licence, and to send an express to my steward, telling him to make all ready for our homecoming. After which, I mean to carry you off to Broome Hall immediately. Oh, Kate, my dear love, you don't know how much I long to see you there! Or how much I hope that you will like it!'

'I am very sure I shall,' she replied, with simple conviction. 'But it would be quite as ramshackle for me to run away to London with you immediately as to fly with you to the Border, my dear! Consider! Surely you could not wish me to behave with such a want of conduct - so ungratefully? Every feeling must be offended!'

'You have no cause to be grateful to Minerva!'

'Oh, yes, I have!' she said, smiling mischievously up at him. 'If she hadn't brought me here I should never have met you, my dear one!'

His arms tightened round her until she felt her ribs to be in danger of cracking, but he said unsteadily: 'That was not her object, you artful little Sophist!'

'No, far from it! What was that you called me?'

'A Sophist, my love - an artful one!'

'What does it mean?' she asked suspiciously.

'One who reasons in a specious way!' he answered, laughing at her.

'Oh, I don't!' she said indignantly. 'How can you be so uncivil?'

'I am not on ceremony with you!' he retorted.

'No, so I collect!' she said, gently disengaging herself. 'We must discuss this, you know - and without prejudice, if you please! Come and sit down! We shan't be disturbed: Torquil and Dr Delabole are going to Market Harborough, and you know my aunt is unwell, don't you? Which is one of my reasons for not dashing away to London in such an unseemly fashion - as though she had been ill-using me, and I had seized the chance offered by her illness to escape! You should know what sort of gossip that would give rise to! Could anything be more unjust? Whatever her motive was in inviting me here, I have received nothing but kindness from her, and I will not leave Staplewood in such haste as must astonish all those who know that I had the intention of remaining here until the end of the summer, and lead to conjectures which might reflect on me, you know, and that you wouldn't like!'

It was evident, from the arrested expression on his face, that this possibility had not occurred to him. He said emphatically: 'No!'

'Of course you wouldn't! As a matter of fact, I shouldn't like it myself. I wish you will not stand there frowning down at me! It puts me in a terrible quake!'

He smiled, and came to sit beside her on the sofa, saying: 'Fibster!'

'Not at all! You wouldn't believe how pudding-hearted I can be!'

'No, that's true: I wouldn't! If you were pudding-hearted you wouldn't remain here!'

I'm not afraid of Torquil,' she said quietly, 'but I promise you I dread telling my aunt that I am going to marry you, Philip. I must do so: to go away without telling her would be very much too shabby, don't you agree?'

'You may leave it to me to tell her!'

'On no account! That would not only be rag-mannered, but it would make it seem as if my conscience was shockingly guilty. It will be your task to break the news to Sir Timothy.'

'That's easy! I mean to do so at once, and I have a strong notion that he will be pleased.'

'I hope he will be. He invited me to dine with him yesterday, and - and he did me the honour to say that he liked me, and would have wished a daughter to have grown up to resemble me. And I think he was perfectly sincere, because he warned me not to let myself be bullied or cajoled into doing what my heart, and what he called my good sense, told me was wrong. I believe that he did so out of affection, and I know that he shrank from the task. Well, he warned me that I was deceiving myself if I supposed that my aunt had brought me to live with her out of compassion. He said that although he didn't know what it might be he did know that she must have had a motive-and to say that of her must have been excessively distasteful to him.'

He had listened intently to her, an expression of gathering surprise in his face, and he exclaimed: 'Then he must indeed hold you in affection! I believed I enjoyed as much of his confidence as anyone, but he wouldn't have been so frank in talking to me. I have sometimes wondered whether he is frank with himself - allows himself to take notice of what is unpleasant. It is painful to see how much he shrinks from facing anything that - oh, that must disturb his peace! He was not always so, Kate! If you had known him when my Aunt Anne was alive - in the days of his happiness! —I suppose his can never have been a strong character, but-but even though I can't now
respect
him, I can never forget how much I owe to him, or cease to love him! I wish I could explain to you - make you understand—'

She was a good deal moved, and checked him, laying a hand over his hard-clenched ones, and saying gently: 'I do understand. I have seen what you describe: his character is not strong, but he is very lovable. I have loved him almost from the moment of first seeing him, and I can readily understand what
your
feelings must be, and - and why you hold my aunt in such dislike, and your own aunt in such veneration. He told me how it had been: he said she was an angel.'

He nodded, biting his lip. 'She wasn't a beauty, or a clever woman, but so
good
! In those days, Staplewood was my home, not a - a show-place! And my uncle cared for it as he no longer does! I daresay Minerva improved the gardens, but what
he
cared for, before his health broke down, was his
land
! I have been riding about the estate lately, and I can tell you this, Kate: my own land is in better heart! Minerva talks glibly enough, but she knows nothing about agriculture, and thinks, because the fellow that became bailiff When old Whatley was pensioned off flatters her, that he's first rate. Well, he ain't! My uncle must know it, for it's only a few months since he gave up hacking round the estate, but he seems not to care!'

'No,' agreed Kate. 'He told me that I should find when I approached the end of my life that I should no longer care very much for anything. I thought it was the saddest thing I had ever heard said.'

He did not answer for a moment or two, and when he did speak it was sombrely. 'It may be best for him.'

She hesitated before saying: 'You think there is trouble coming to Staplewood, don't you? Is it Torquil?'

'I fear it.'

'Philip, is - is Torquil
deranged?
she asked, horror in her eyes. 'Oh, I can't think it!'

'I tried for years not to think it, but lately I have realized that instead of outgrowing his strange humours he has become worse. I think him dangerous, Kate, and I know that he can be violent. If he is excited, or thwarted, it is as though his rage overpowers his brain, and he lets his instinct govern him. And his instinct is to kill. That is Why—'

'You are thinking of his having shot at that dog!' she interrupted. 'I too suspected for a dreadful moment that he was mad, but I promise you that he didn't mean to shoot
me!
Even when I ripped up at him, which you may suppose I did - I was never more angry! - I
know
he had no thought of injuring me! He was - oh, like a sulky schoolboy! Saying that if I hadn't moved I shouldn't have been in danger, and that he wasn't aiming his piece at me. It's true that he threatened to shoot Badger, but, you know, Philip, he cannot have meant to do so, because he must have known he had fired both barrels! And, if you bear in mind that he
is
only a schoolboy, you will own—or you would, if you had been there! - that the temptation to hold Badger at bay must have been irresistible! He came running up in
such
a stew! And stood positively transfixed when Torquil pointed the gun at him, and warned him to keep off, in the most dramatic style! I must say, it put me quite out of patience with him, for nothing could encourage Torquil more than to stand trembling with fright! A man who has known Torquil since his childhood, and is, I fancy, devoted to him! How
could
he suppose that Torquil would shoot him?'