Mr Mowbray glanced down at his papers. ‘I have a schedule here. There is the London house in Mount Street, which has been let for some years now. The house in Bath, the hunting lodge, and half a dozen farms adjacent to the original estate which his lordship purchased many years ago. Then there are his commercial interests. He was, you may recall, very interested in the developments in the textile industries, and the mechanical innovations there and elsewhere. You will have, at a rough estimate, my lady, the same income from these sources as from your own jointure.’
It was a distressed Catarina who eventually escaped to the privacy of her room. Lady Keith, restrained while Mr Mowbray had been present, had vented her fury on Catarina the moment the solicitor had departed. None of Lord Brooke’s protests, Olivia’s startled tears, or Jeremy’s embarrassed declarations that it was nothing to do with him, could stem the venom as she insisted that Walter’s money should remain in his family, and help to support the cost of the estate. She accused Catarina of influencing a senile, besotted old fool, and hinted she would make it so unpleasant for her that Catarina would never again dare show her treacherous face to Bath or London Society.
Finally Catarina lost her temper and told Lady Keith she was an interfering, jealous old bat who had not cared a jot for Walter when he was alive, had never visited him or paid him any attention, and was resentful that he had found happiness with her.
‘He told me you tried to inveigle him into marriage when he was barely twenty,’ she said, ‘and how thankful he was to have escaped being married to a harridan. For the moment this is still my home, and you are no longer welcome here. I expect you to have left before I have to see you again in the morning.’
* * * *
Later that night, when all the guests had retired, Catarina crept downstairs. She could not sleep, and had left the book she was reading in the small parlour. It was a book of sermons, not something she normally chose to read, but it had seemed appropriate after Walter’s death. Perhaps that would send her to sleep.
As she passed the door of Olivia’s room she heard sobbing, and paused. Was the child ill? She had looked pale and unhappy all the time she had been in the house. Catarina knocked gently on the door, and the sobbing ceased. She went quietly into the room, to find Olivia huddled on her pillows, looking with terrified eyes towards the door.
‘Oh, it’s only you!’
‘Who did you expect?’
‘Aunt!’
It was said with such heartfelt horror Catarina felt inclined to laugh. But the child was clearly afraid of Lady Keith. She closed the door softly behind her and went to sit on the side of the bed. Taking one of Olivia’s cold hands in hers, she stroked it gently.
‘Tell me. I won’t give you away. What has she done?’
Olivia sniffed. ‘She’s taking me to London, for the Season. She says that because of our cousin’s death I can’t have my comeout this year, I have to wear mourning, and I hate black, but she will make me go to call on her friends and things, and I know I’ll hate it! Her friends are all odious, and they spend all their time at the British Museum, looking at old stones and Roman things!’
Catarina tried not to laugh at her woeful tone. ‘What does your brother say? Is he willing?’
‘He says she knows best. But whenever I am with her I feel so stupid, and I never know what to say. She scolds all the time, and I seem to shrivel!’
‘I know just what you mean!’
‘I’d much rather go home to Brooke Court, and stay with Shippy.’
‘Shippy?’
‘Miss Shipton, my governess. I was sent to school for a year, but I hated it, and Nicholas asked Shippy to come back. He says she’s more of a companion, but she can still help me with my drawing and French. But Aunt Clara says she will be dismissed. She would have sent her away by now if we hadn’t had to change our plans and come here.’
‘Tell your brother how you feel, perhaps say you would like to delay going to London for another year. How old are you?’
‘I was sixteen in December.’
‘Much too soon to have to go to grown up parties, and perhaps be betrothed next year,’ Catarina said with feeling.
She had never been out in Society before she was married off to Walter, and afterwards, as his wife, she knew she had been awkward and not fully aware of all the proprieties when they went to stay for a few weeks in Bath, and once, on an occasion she looked back on with dismay at her naivety, to London, where she had known no one, and made so many gaffes she had pleaded with Walter to take her home. They had visited London only twice more, and Catarina thought she would be happy never again to set foot there.
‘He won’t listen to me,’ Olivia said, her voice breaking on a sob.
‘Tell him, and try not to weep as you do. Gentlemen hate to see females in tears. Explain you don’t feel you are ready. Say that if you are too shy to talk with anyone there is no chance of your making a suitable match. You do want to be married, in time, I suppose?’
Olivia blushed, and her hand in Catarina’s trembled.
‘Well, yes, if he is kind to me.’
Cynically Catarina thought that if Lady Keith had any say in selecting a husband for Olivia, kindness would be the least quality she would look for.
‘Have you any friends who may be making their comeouts next year? Friends from school, perhaps?’
‘I think so. I still write to some of them. It wasn’t the girls there I hated.’
‘Then tell him you would be so much more confident if you were able to be with them.’
Olivia looked doubtful, but she smiled slightly, and slid down under the covers.
‘Thank you, you’ve been kind.’
‘Go to sleep now.’
Catarina left the room and continued in her quest for the book of sermons, trying to decide whether it would do more harm than good if she were herself to speak to Lord Brooke, and explain how his sister felt.
* * * *
The sermons were of no help, and thoughts of Olivia’s distress kept Catarina wakeful. After such a sleepless night Catarina wanted nothing better than to breakfast in bed and stay there until the guests departed, but she knew that would be cowardly, and when Rosa, her maid, came in bringing hot water she forced herself to get up and dress. An apology for her outburst was due, and she would think less of herself if she avoided making it.
Her hope that Lady Keith would have breakfasted in bed was dashed when she entered the breakfast room. The lady was seated to one side of the long table, with nothing except a cup of coffee in front of her. Joanna was the only other person present, but the used plates indicated that the others had eaten and left.
Catarina took a deep breath. ‘My lady, I have to apologize for what I said last night. It was unpardonable of me, and I ask your forgiveness.’
Lady Keith glared at her. ‘You were abominably rude, but that is no more than I might have expected from a shop girl whose mother was a Portuguese peasant!’
Joanna gasped. ‘Mama came from a wealthy, aristocratic family! She was not a peasant!’
Catarina clung to the shreds of her temper. ‘Have you had breakfast, Lady Keith?’
‘Since I am so unwelcome here I do not care to abuse your hospitality by eating at your board. I have been persuaded to drink coffee, but soon, madam, we will leave. Nicholas has gone to see to the carriage. Then you may begin preparing to move to the Dower House, and the sooner you do so the better, so that my nephews may take possession, even though they have been cheated of much of the inheritance.’
Catarina bit hard on her lip. She would not rise to these taunts. Turning away she helped herself to coddled eggs, all she felt she could force down her throat. As she sat down Joanna began to chat with forced brightness about their uncle, Sir Ivor, and his wife and family.
‘I need not return tomorrow if you would like me to stay and help you move, Catarina,’ she offered.
‘Let us decide later, when I have had an opportunity to inspect the Dower House and plan what needs doing there.’
‘I suppose it is furnished?’ Lady Keith asked. ‘To whom does that belong? Or do you propose abstracting furniture from this house?’
‘As it all belongs to Catarina, since as far as I know furniture cannot be entailed in the same way as houses, she could take what she wanted, and sell the rest!’ Joanna informed Lady Keith, accompanying her words with a triumphant smile.
Catarina was saved from having to rebuke Joanna by the door opening, and Lord Brooke’s entrance.
‘The coach will be at the front door in five minutes, Aunt Clara. I’ve informed your maid, and your luggage is being brought down. Lady Brooke, may I have a few words with you before we leave? Let us go into the library.’
‘I wish to speak to you on another matter, my lord.’
He held open the door for her, and Catarina, abandoning her cold eggs and full cup of coffee, escaped. Only a few more minutes, and the appalling old besom would be gone.
Lord Brooke closed the door of the library, ushered Catarina to a chair drawn up before the fire, and began to pace the room. He glanced across at her, one eyebrow raised, and she wondered if he was trying to intimidate her. She raised her chin in response and stared back unsmilingly.
‘I must apologize for my aunt,’ he said stiffly. ‘She was the only older female available, and I did not feel I could stay in your house without a chaperone. She is still suffering from the loss of her own husband two years ago, and the deaths of both her sons. They were with the army in Spain. It has embittered her, but she should not have said what she did.’
‘Neither should I, and I have apologized,’ Catarina told him, putting a slight emphasis on the second ‘I’.
She glanced up at him and was surprised to see a gleam of something like amusement in his eyes. When he was relaxed he could be a very attractive man. But it was so fleeting she wondered later if she had imagined it.
‘You will soon be left in peace. I intend to take some papers away with me that I have not had opportunity to study. I trust you have no objections?’
‘They are yours now, my lord.’
‘I also wanted to tell you there is no need for you to move yet. I understand the Dower House has been unoccupied for some years and will need work.’
‘Thank you, but I will go as soon as possible.’
Catarina knew she would feel uncomfortable if she thought she was in any way reliant on this man’s consideration. She was uneasy in his presence, and would be so in his house.
‘Please inform me when you do. There are a few matters I need to check, so I will come down for a few days when I can spare the time.’
‘Of course. Will your brother come to live here?’
‘It is one possibility, but he has his career in the army to consider, and would not be here most of the time, so I may prefer to find a tenant. Whatever is decided, I will keep you informed as to our plans. Now I must go, we are on our way to London, a long drive, and Aunt Clara does not like the coach to travel at much more than walking speed, for fear it causes her discomfort.’
There was what looked like another gleam of amusement, but it was gone so swiftly Catarina could not be certain.
‘What did you want to say?’ he asked.
‘I found your sister in tears last night. She is dreading being in London. My lord, she is not ready for Society! I should know, I was barely sixteen when I was wed to Walter, and I was utterly lost.’
He stiffened, and she was expecting a rebuke. His tone was cold.
‘My aunt can be trusted to know best.’
‘You have just apologized for her rudeness to me. Think how much worse it can be for a young girl who feels that, as she is a member of the family, she has to be obeyed!’
‘I hardly think that is your business, my lady.’
‘I agree, but at least give Olivia an opportunity to explain. She will be stiff and feel stupid, and gain a reputation she can never throw off. If you want her to make a good match she needs to be presented in a better light than your aunt is likely to provide for her. That is all I have to say, but I hope you will be considerate of your sister’s feelings!’
He did not reply, but pursed his lips, and she hoped she had not made things even worse for Olivia.
She went with him to the front door, to discover Olivia waiting to get into the ponderous travelling coach, while Jeremy, looking dashing in his breeches and riding boots, his coat lapels just an inch too wide, and his shirt collars an inch too high, held the reins of two magnificent riding horses.
Olivia dropped Catarina a curtsey and muttered shy thanks for her hospitality, then gripped her hands convulsively and tried to say something else. She could not speak, and turned guiltily in obedience to her aunt’s command to stop dawdling and get in the coach. The maid followed, the steps were raised, the doors shut, and the two sturdy horses set the coach moving in lumbering motion.
Catarina turned to the men to bid them farewell, just as Joanna came out of the house.
‘Has that dreadful old woman finally gone? Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,’ she said, giggling and looking from under her eyelashes at Jeremy, who grinned back at her.
‘And we must be gone too, though at the speed that coach moves we could spend another few hours here and still catch them up long before they stop for the night,’ Jeremy said. ‘How about your showing me more of the gardens than I have seen so far, Miss Norton?’
To Catarina’s relief his brother vetoed the idea. ‘You will have plenty of time to see the gardens in the summer, when there will be more to see. Now we must escort the ladies. Goodbye, Lady Brooke, Miss Norton, and thank you for your hospitality.’
He took the reins of a black, strong-looking stallion from Jeremy and swung up into the saddle. Jeremy seized Catarina’s hand and raised it to his lips, looking at her with laughing eyes as he did so.
‘Farewell, cousin. You too, Miss Norton,’ he added, releasing Catarina and taking her sister’s hand. ‘I trust we will have many more meetings, on less sad occasions.’
Joanna dimpled. ‘Oh, yes, so do I.’
Catarina wanted to chastise Joanna, tell her such flirtatious behaviour was indecorous, but she was feeling too stressed from the past dreadful few days to take the risk of another argument. They watched the brothers ride after the coach, and Joanna gave a little skip of excitement.