“Why do you think I could write books for them?” she asked abruptly.
“I don’t know,” he replied frankly. “I assume because of the interest you take in farming and your consideration of that print shop this morning that you are not afraid to undertake a project outside a woman’s usual scope. Don’t you think you could write books for the school?”
“I would like to try. I was thinking just this morning about the fantasy Aunt Eleanor and I used to have of writing a book on our travels. How would I go about it? I cannot think I would know where to start.”
“Talk to Thomas. He still involves himself with the school and knows more about it and its needs than I do. I will agree to spare him three hours a week to come to the Hall to work with you if you think that will help.”
“Tomorrow?”
Winterton laughed. “Yes, Miss Montgomery. I shall send him at one.”
They had arrived at the inn where her carriage had been left. Winterton offered to take her in to luncheon before she drove home, but Kate protested that they had been gone far longer than expected already. She impulsively put out her hand, and he took it in a firm clasp. “Thank you, Lord Winterton. I . . . well . . . thank you.”
Chapter 12
Kate spoke with her father about her meeting with the Earl and her interest in the school. He was rather puzzled by this enthusiasm on her part, but saw no harm in it. He himself had contributed to the school in the past on Winterton’s suggestion, but had never had any interest in seeing the place.
Thomas Single arrived promptly the next day at one, dressed in his usual quiet style, with an earnest face and twinkling eyes. Kate had instructed that he be shown into the back parlor. As they shook hands he remarked, “I hear Lord Winterton has interested you in one of his hobbies.”
“Is it one of his hobbies? He said you might be able to direct me if I tried to write some books for the children. Do you think I could? Would it be imposing on you to ask for your help?”
Kate seated herself at the fine, inlaid writing desk and had Thomas take a comfortable chair near her. He had the facility of looking at ease and ready to be of service at the same time. “Yes, I would not be surprised if you could write for the children. Lord Winterton has a knack for recognizing appropriate talents for the school.”
“I understand you were a teacher there and that you still take an interest in it. I cannot imagine where to start on such a project,” Kate admitted.
“I’ve been thinking about that since he mentioned it to me. You already have some knowledge of the workings of the countryside. Perhaps a simple tale on the life of a child on a farm—where he lives, what he eats, his observations on the changing of the seasons and the crops, the various jobs he does and sees his parents doing. Something like that.”
“Hm, yes, I should like to work on that. But most of the children are town-bred. Would it be more helpful to write something they would be familiar with?”
“We need that, to be sure. First, though, I would start with something you know best. Then you might work on the town life—again where a child lives and what his parents do, and a description of the work that is done in various shops—the confectioners, grocers, carpenters, basketmakers, drapers, chandlers.”
“I would need help with that, you know. I have not the first idea how a basket is made,” she admitted.
“Lord Winterton knows I like working on pursuits for the school and has allowed that I may spend several hours a week helping you. That is, if you should like that . . .” He looked at her inquiringly.
“I shall need your help if I am to do it. Tell me, Mr. Single, how simple should the texts be?”
Kate and Thomas Single spent the next hour considering various questions with regard to the writing, printing, and use of the books before he prepared to leave, promising to provide information she would need. Before he left he handed her a small leather purse with a grin and said, “Lord Winterton hoped this would be private enough for the return of your loan.”
“Tell him I am duly impressed with his discretion.” Kate laughed and handed back the purse after removing the money.
Thomas refused this, saying, “You are to keep the purse. It is by way of interest, you understand.”
Kate surveyed the purse, a gold-tooled leather pouch with drawstrings. “Very handsome interest his lordship pays.” She hesitated over accepting it.
“It is the only way he could thank you. It was his mother’s,” Thomas explained.
Kate fingered the delicate pouch, nodded, and said, “Thank him for me, Mr. Single, and thank you for your help.”
“It was my pleasure, Miss Montgomery.”
Kate put the leather pouch away carefully in the dressing table in her room and returned to the back parlor. She made notes for herself and gave considerable thought to the simplest manner in which to present country life to the town-bred children.
Her work on the book became interspersed with efforts to assist Susan in preparing her wardrobe for the trip to London and organizing for her own shorter stay there. In fact it was necessary to arrange for the whole family in some matters, as they did not travel often. She had three weeks in which to accomplish this, so there was time for all of her endeavors, including the impending visit of her aunt with her new husband.
Mr. and Mrs. Hall arrived only a few days after Kate had begun to work on the book and there were few people she would rather have set it aside for. The Halls planned a week-long stay, and Kate quietly assumed the extra duties in the management of the household. Her mother was pleased to see her sister and anxious to become acquainted with Mr. Hall.
“Are you as fond of travel as my sister, Mr. Hall?” she asked as they sat around the tea tray on the afternoon of the visitors’ arrival.
“Indeed, yes. It was in Dublin that I met Eleanor and Kate, though I live in Daventry. Have for many years. We had mutual friends in the O’Rourkes. Quite a clan of them there are, too. I know I counted twenty-three gathered under the same roof one afternoon.”
“That reminds me, Kate,” Aunt Eleanor interjected. “Did I write you that young Patrick is with the Foreign Office now in London? We saw him on our way through and urged him to call on you, Susan, when you’re in town. Are you going, too, Kate?”
“Only for a week or so until Mama and Susan are settled. Ralph expects to stay for a while, too, but Papa and I shall return shortly.”
“Tell me about Patrick O’Rourke,” Susan begged.
“He is the funniest man I’ve ever met,” Kate laughed. “He is forever dreaming up the most crack-brained tales, strewn with gremlins or leprechauns or some such thing, which he will cheerfully swear are the truth.”
“And I assure you, Kate,” Aunt Eleanor said, “that the seriousness of his post has not in the least diminished that penchant of his. I think they have chosen very well in that young man,” she remarked thoughtfully.
“Well, I hope to see him while I’m there,” Kate remarked. “I’m sure he’ll amuse you, Susan, for he is the greatest flatterer. He is not very tall but moves with the most incredible speed, so he is forever surprising one by being where he is not expected.”
Mr. Hall nodded. “You can be standing in a group with him when someone announces the intention to leave, and before another of the party has even thought to move toward the door, he is there smiling and bowing the fellow out. It came to be a pastime among us to keep an eye on him to see how he managed it.”
Susan was intrigued with the possibilities for sport provided by the young man and vowed she looked forward to meeting him. She must remember to alert her friend Laura to such a good game before ever they met him.
When Kate and her aunt were alone after a while, Kate settled them in the back parlor for a real chat. They were not much closer in age than Kate and her mother, but their years together had put them on a more sisterly footing.
“How is it with you, Aunt Eleanor? Mama has been worried that you would find it a nuisance to remarry at your age and have to accommodate a new husband.”
“I have never enjoyed myself more. Your mama! But then, she is so accustomed to life here that she cannot imagine rearranging everything. It goes hand in glove with the love of traveling. You and I must be lost souls indeed in her eyes!”
“She would never say so. But I am sure it gives her a great deal of pleasure to see me safe at home and leading the quiet country life.” Kate made a slight grimace.
“I have spoiled you, my love. Is it so bad to be here?”
“No, no, not at all. I am very fond of my family. Charity came to stay for some weeks while her mother was in Bath. It was a treat to have her here, for there are not many women my age in the area. I am considered quite the ape leader, I assure you.”
“Do not say so, Kate!” her aunt retorted with concern. “I am sure you could have had many offers had you been the least bit encouraging.”
“Why, Aunt, indeed, I have had five since I returned,” Kate informed her and proceeded to tell the tale of the spurious suitors.
“What a batch of beef-brains!” Her aunt’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “I imagine you have had something to say to the young men.”
“I didn’t pursue a course of action for a while,” Kate sighed, twisting her locket pensively, “but something happened.”
“Something you can tell me about?”
“I have been debating that, my dear. I think I must tell you, for perhaps you can solve the problem where I cannot.” The locket fell off in her hand and she placed it absently on the mahogany end table, aligning it with the inlaid design. “Ralph fell in love with Charity while she was here. He asked her to marry him, but she refused him.
I
should be able to accept that, I know, but I cannot for the life of me rid myself of the idea that she loves him, too. And that I cannot understand at all,” Kate finished sadly.
“And she did not confide in you, love?”
“No. When the subject first came up, she begged me not to meddle, and I promised that I would not. I have never found it so difficult to keep a promise, Aunt Eleanor!” Kate exclaimed wretchedly.
“She gave you no hint at all?”
“Once she said, and I could not credit it, that she did not wish me to pity her.”
“I see.” Aunt Eleanor sat lost in thought for some time before speaking. “Before you came to Daventry, Charity had two suitors, at different times, and I have long found it difficult to believe that neither of them offered for her. One of them I felt sure she was fond of, and I could not help but notice her agitation when he no longer paid court to her. Yet I have always believed that he offered for her and was refused.” She shook her head, perplexed. “Perhaps she will speak to me when I reach home, though if she would not talk about it with you . . .”
“Poor Ralph is suffering, and I am sure that Charity is also. I felt so helpless not being able to do a thing.”
“Mmm.” Her aunt smiled wryly. “I can imagine you did not like it one bit to have your hands tied. Let me see what I can do, my love. I am very fond of Charity.”
“I know. I leave it to you, but I shall understand if you can do nothing.”
“Tell me what else you’ve been doing.”
“When Charity left I felt blue-devilled, but Lord Winterton took me in hand.”
Her aunt’s astonishment was unfeigned. “Carl’s brother? You have made your peace with him?”
“Not a bit of it. He still thinks me a heartless, unprincipled wench, but I did him a service—out of necessity, you understand—and he took pity on me and has suggested that I write a children’s book. He is involved in a school for poor children in Bristol, and they have not much suitable reading material. I gather,” she said piously, “that the religious tomes the urchins are usually set to read do not fully serve their purposes.”
“No wonder. Have you started work?”
“Yes, and I should like you to see it, but even more, my dearest aunt, I would beg a few sketches from you for the book. It’s about a child’s life on a farm. I know you are very busy now,” she hastened to add.
“When we get to Daventry it will take some time to sort out the two households, I have no doubt, but while I am here I can make some sketches. What did you have in mind?”
Kate and her aunt went over the plans for the book and the list of sketches Kate had considered. During the days that followed, Aunt Eleanor’s sketchbook was a constant companion on their trips about the neighborhood and the estate. Ralph proudly escorted them about his farm, but he could not always exclude the wistfulness which invaded his talk of the future.
Mrs. Montgomery planned a small dinner party for those who knew her sister in the area. On the day of this entertainment Kate accepted the task of arranging the seating of the guests and found to her chagrin that Winterton was to be one of the guests.
“Pray tell, Mama, why did you invite him?” she exclaimed. “He doesn’t know Aunt Eleanor from the next woman.”
“To be sure, my love, but he extended far greater hospitality to Ralph,” her mother explained reasonably.
“I am surprised that he accepted.”
“So am I,” her mother agreed frankly.
“Well, I shall seat him between Aunt Eleanor and Lady Romsey. I am sure the two of them will keep him well entertained.”
“Just as you wish, my dear,” her mother replied vaguely.
Mrs. Montgomery was in her element when entertaining. She had a gracious air not in the least marred by her gossamer-like flight from guest to guest. When the Earl of Winterton was announced, she showed genuine pleasure and hastened to introduce him to Mr. and Mrs. Hall, quite sure he would enjoy their company. However, Susan was just as sure that Lord Norris would enjoy meeting them, and he, ever on the look-out for advancement of his suit, began a very
mature
conversation with them, and the Earl found himself slightly excluded.
Kate joined him, grinning mischievously. “Your ward seems to be making great progress, sir. You are to be congratulated.”
“Am I? And I was just about to say the same to you.” Winterton regarded her quizzingly.
“Mr. Single was telling me,” she said as she moved down the room with him, “that you have a talent for recognizing abilities for your school. I was wondering if that extended to other matters as well.”