by Rose Meddon
‘Kate, I give you my word. Look at it from my perspective – I want you to say yes, not send you running scared. And I mean what I say about being prepared to wait. Indeed, please know that you can say yes to me now without any expectation on my part that we shall rush to marry. It will be enough to know that you have agreed.’
When, at her request, he took his leave of her and started back towards the house, his form quickly lost to her in the dusk, she remained where she was, the night-air like a velvety cape about her gown.
Alone, but no less unsettled, she sighed. She had hoped that by doing as Ma Channer had suggested and drawing him into conversation about himself, she would now be leaning more in one direction than the other – more inclined to accept him or not. As it turned out, she simply felt more confused than ever. She couldn’t deny that he was a considerate man. Nor could she deny that the more she came to know about him, the more she warmed to him. She even suspected that, were she to let down her guard and allow herself to, she might fall in love with him. True, it might not be the sort of flaming passion she’d had difficulty keeping under control when she had first been courted by Luke, but perhaps that was no bad thing. And anyway, the flame Luke had ignited within her was the sort to burn fast and hot, while somehow still being prone to flickering alarmingly in even the lightest of draughts. By contrast, Rowley seemed to be offering something that, while less passionate, felt more mature – more of a gentle and soothing warmth than a fiery flame. Given her age, there was nothing wrong with that; in its own way, it was just as appealing. Besides, the stark reality of her position made it unlikely that she would get a better offer; in turning him down, she ran the very real risk of ending up like Edith.
Realizing that the last of the light had now completely gone, she lifted the hem of her skirt and started back across the grass. Already damp with dew, it quickly soaked through the fabric of her little mourning slippers – footwear clearly never intended for outdoor trysts of the dewy summer night variety. Struck by the inappropriateness of her thought, she giggled: was not every inch of her mourning outfit designed to ward off all possibility of any type of tryst at all?
Nearing the house, and spotting that all but the French doors of the drawing room stood in complete darkness, she slowed her pace. Perhaps her disrespectful behaviour told her something. Perhaps, deep down, she did know what she wanted to do. But, if that was true, then why was she continuing to hesitate? Was it simply because dear Rowley’s proposal had come so soon after Luke’s death? Did her concern centre more upon what people would think of her? Or did she still have genuine concerns about how she would fit into his very different life? Yes, the changes required of her would be greater than anything she had known before; even contemplating such upheaval made her jittery. On the other hand, what he appeared to be offering was the very thing she had once so badly craved – a life with a purpose and the chance of real fulfilment. So, yes, just why was she hesitating? If, as she had just thought, she knew how she felt, then shouldn’t she just get on with it and give him her answer?
Shivering, and rueing her lack of a shawl, she resumed walking. Yes, tomorrow she would tell him what she had decided – and then all she could do after that was hope that she didn’t live to regret it.
Chapter Fourteen
Shock
‘Well, that is a surprise, I must say.’
Seated at the table, Kate turned to study Ned’s face. Not only did he sound pleased, he looked it too.
‘Isn’t it?’ Naomi replied to her brother’s observation with a warm smile.
‘I wasn’t expecting to come to breakfast this morning to be told that.’
Yes, Kate thought, the news had come as a surprise to everyone: on account of him having been assessed unfit to return to active duty, Captain Lawrence Colborne was being discharged from the army – and on a full military pension, too. Finally, Naomi had something to smile about.
Seemingly becoming aware that all eyes were upon him, Lawrence straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. ‘Well, one would have preferred, of course, that this decision had not been necessary in the first place. No officer wants his service to king and empire cut short – not on medical grounds or any other. That said, nor does one ever wish to be a liability. As an officer, the decisions one makes and the commands one gives can mean the difference between life and death to the men who follow them… and if, well…’ To Kate, he seemed as though he was struggling to hold back tears; for him, the news was clearly a mixed blessing. Picking up the letter from the table, he gave it another glance and shook his head as if still unable to believe it. ‘…if the army have deemed that I am no longer fit for such a responsibility, then I must respect their decision – find a way to come to terms with it. Almighty blow to one’s pride, all the same.’
‘But darling,’ Naomi said, slipping her arm through his, ‘you’re bound to go on and do something just as meaningful and worthwhile. Just because you’ve been ruled unfit to serve in the army doesn’t mean that you will be left unemployed.’ Looking to her brother for support, she went on, ‘Tell him I’m right, Ned. Tell him it’s true.’
‘It is true,’ Ned replied. ‘It will just be a matter of taking stock and finding the right profession, that’s all.’
‘A man with your record will soon be snatched up,’ Rowley agreed. ‘Trust me. Private companies – indeed, a large part of Whitehall – are crying out for men with your background – men with your record of being in command and your experience of being on the front line.’
‘Well, thank you, all of you, for your faith in me,’ Lawrence said, looking quickly about the table. ‘Once the news has sunk in, I shall consider how best to set about building a new future… for myself and my family.’
Without making it obvious that she was doing so, Kate glanced to Rowley. Looking across at Mr Lawrence, he appeared relaxed and contented. They all did. And in which case, perhaps, once breakfast was finished, it might be a nice moment to give him her answer to his proposal of marriage. What could be finer than two pieces of good news in one day? Coming together, they might even be deemed worthy of a little celebration later on.
Mulling the wisdom of it, she looked down into her lap. First, of course, she would have to change out of her mourning gown, and then cease wearing it altogether. A few days ago, such a thing would have felt unthinkable and been something for which she hadn’t been ready. But now, it felt like just another step along the road towards her new life. But then she remembered that last night, in bed, she had made herself a promise: she had vowed that this morning, no matter how certain she felt, she would make herself wait one more day to give Rowley her answer. Better to be safe than sorry after all. Besides, if the decision she had reached was the right one, then another four-and-twenty hours were neither here nor there. And so, for now, she wouldn’t allow herself to get swept up in all the warmth of Mr Lawrence’s news. Instead, she would sit on her hands, and force herself to wait one more day.
It wasn’t until the menfolk had finally left the dining room, and the two of them were clearing the table of the debris from breakfast, that Naomi spoke to her directly. ‘You know, I can hardly believe my good fortune.’
‘I daresay,’ Kate replied, carrying the little galleried tray of condiments across to the buffet. ‘It’s a real blessing for you. Just what you prayed for.’
‘It is. I know it isn’t what Lawrence wanted. I know he wanted to return to the front. And, had that come about, then, somehow, I should have found a way to bear it. But I can’t tell you how enormously glad I am that I shan’t have to! I can’t begin to describe the relief.’
Gathering up the crumpled napkins scattered about the table, Kate nodded her agreement. ‘I think I can imagine.’
‘Finally, we shall be able to get on with our lives.’
‘Yes,’ she replied. But, despite smiling broadly, she was unable to bury the feeling that she was being horribly treacherous. Naomi would be deeply hurt if she knew about Ro
wley’s proposal – not that she was intending to accept him, but because she had kept the whole thing a secret from her in the first place. Well, regrettable though that was, not everything was Naomi’s business. And perhaps the time had come for her to live a little more independently – to find her own way in life.
‘Of course, he still isn’t fully recovered,’ Naomi went on to say, forcing Kate to return her attention. ‘He still struggles to sleep properly. And he’s still jumpy. And frighteningly short with Esme at times. But, well, he is so very much better than he was.’
‘I’m pleased for you,’ Kate said, her mind back on Mr Lawrence.
‘My priority now must surely be to prevent him from rushing, willy-nilly, into something new – you know, grasping the first thing that fires his imagination.’
Gathering up the corners of the tablecloth, Kate nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And, in that respect, once we’re back in town, I might need to call upon you to be another pair of eyes and ears for me.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Oh dear, now this was becoming tricky; she did so hate deceit.
‘In any event,’ Naomi continued, ‘I have an idea, and I should like you to tell me what you think of it.’ About to carry the cloth out onto the terrace and shake off the crumbs, she instead remained where she was and waited for Naomi to elaborate. ‘Part of Lawrence’s treatment requires that he be involved in various activities out of doors. So, I am minded to suggest to him, in a very roundabout way, of course, that, rather than go straight back to London, we see out the rest of the summer here. My hope is that, away from ordinary life, he might feel less inclined to start making plans. He has already said that in the short term at least, we can manage on his pension. My other hope is that with no real demands upon him here, he will spend time getting to know Esme.’
‘I think your idea to stay down here is a good one,’ she said, finally carrying the tablecloth out through the French doors and giving it a good shake. Calling back over her shoulder, she went on, ‘It might help Mr Lawrence settle back into family life.’ Yes, she thought, it might be good for all of you. Whereas I, on the other hand, she found herself thinking, will have things of my own to settle into. And, that being the case, I could do without the upheaval of returning to London, with all the upside down-ness that would bring.
And no, the fact that she was being selfish wasn’t lost on her. For the first time, she was putting her own needs first. And it was causing her no qualms whatsoever.
* * *
Goodness, she was cross. And how typical that it should be Naomi who was to blame for her frustration!
In a state of exasperation, Kate shook her head. Just when she’d had an idea about how to tell everyone her news, Naomi had gone and decreed that, this afternoon, tea should once again be taken out on the lawn, it being her desire to hold a small celebration in honour of Mr Lawrence’s retirement from the army – as she had taken to calling it. A pleasant enough thing by itself, it nevertheless meant that tomorrow, when she made her own announcement – when they made their announcement – she couldn’t really expect there to be an appetite for yet another celebration. And anyway, a party with the leftover halves of today’s cakes wouldn’t be a party at all. Moreover, by remaining true to her vow to wait a further day before telling Rowley of her decision, even were there to be a second tea party, it would surely lack all sense of occasion – would amount to nothing special at all.
To be fair, there had been no way for Naomi to have known what she had been planning to do – after all, out of necessity, she had been keeping it a secret. But that didn’t make her any less annoyed. No, the upset was, she reflected, recalling something Aunt Diana had once said, “an unintended consequence” of her decision not to take Naomi into her confidence. Well, then so be it. For the last four years, women had been announcing their engagements and getting married with next to nothing by way of celebrations at all. So, why should she be any different? It wasn’t even as though her wedding to Rowley would be her first.
Seeing no option but to try to bury her disappointment, she gave a long sigh. On the up side, this afternoon’s gathering did at least give her genuine cause to abandon her mourning dress and wear one of her pretty frocks. Then, tomorrow, when she again appeared in ordinary dress, this time in readiness for her – for their – announcement, it ought hardly to draw comment at all.
What she hadn’t bargained on, though, as she sat under the cedar tree with the little family group, was just how twitchy the prospect of waiting another day would cause her to feel. She had always been hopeless at keeping secrets and, with all the bonhomie surrounding Mr Lawrence’s news, she was simply itching to be free from the burden of concealing her own. Thankfully, despite knocking over a tea cup and spilling the contents, and despite being unable to sit still for more than a single moment at a time, no one – even Rowley – seemed to have noticed anything amiss with her, or had even enquired whether she was all right.
In an effort to distract her thoughts, she got up and helped herself to a slice of gooseberry tart. And then, for good measure, she spooned over it a generous dollop of clotted cream.
Eventually, though, when she got up again to return her empty plate to the trestle, she drew the attention of Naomi, who raised a hand and gestured to her to come and join her on the bench. ‘Bring another cushion,’ she called across.
Seeing no way to do otherwise, Kate took the remaining seat in the circle of mis-matched garden furniture and glanced about. Mr Lawrence was stretched out on a steamer chair, his panama over his face and looking to all the world as though he were asleep. A couple of feet away from him, in his wheelchair, Ned was reading to Esme from what she recognized to be Rudyard Kipling’s How the Leopard Got His Spots. Then came Rowley. And then, some distance from him, Nurse Hammond was sat knitting something very tiny from a skein of pale blue wool.
Once Kate sat down, Naomi turned towards her. ‘Are you all right? Only, you’ve seemed rather distant today. And I shouldn’t want you to think that just because Lawrence is back, we can’t do things together – or talk to one another.’
Recognizing Naomi’s sentiments as genuine, she raised a smile. ‘No. I know.’
‘I shouldn’t want you to think that…’ Her statement unfinished, Naomi paused to sit more upright.
Curious to discover what could have caught her attention, she followed the line of her gaze across the lawn. Pedalling furiously up the drive was the postman, a slim mail bag across his body. ‘Bit late for him to be all the way out here,’ Kate remarked of his arrival.
Evidently spotting them gathered under the cedar tree, and applying screeching brakes, the uniformed official brought his bicycle to a barely controlled halt at the edge of the lawn. Then, attempting to affect a speedy dismount, he caught one leg of his trousers in the chain, cursed heartily, freed himself and finally, smoothing down the front of his uniform, came trotting towards them.
‘Bring this ’un up special, postmaster says to me,’ he announced, panting heavily.
Together, Kate and Naomi rose from the bench. Disturbed from his slumber, Lawrence, too, got slowly to his feet.
‘To whom do you bring this very special delivery?’ Naomi enquired, starting towards the postman.
Wresting a single envelope from his bag, the delivery boy peered at the address. ‘Mrs Luke Channer. Express delivery all the way from some place in Wiltshire.’
She froze. Mrs Luke Channer? Was that even the correct form of address for her now that she was widowed? More importantly, why was someone from Wiltshire sending her a letter? And why had the postman come cycling all the way out here this late in the day to deliver it? At least it couldn’t be word of Luke. Luke was already dead; Mr Lawrence had already brought her that news. So, since he couldn’t have been killed a second time, what on earth was it about?
‘For you, evidently,’ Naomi said, handing her the slender envelope.
Taking it from her, Kate stared down at it. Despite the smudge to
the franking mark, she could clearly read the word Wiltshire.
Her senses on alert, she sat back down on the bench and tried to slide her finger under the flap.
‘Here,’ Ned said, holding towards her one of their used tea knives.
Accepting it from him, she slit along the top of the envelope. Then, setting the knife down on the table in front of her, she tugged out the contents.
Confronted by a page of handwriting embellished with more loops and swirls than seemed strictly necessary, she tried to focus her eyes, but they ran ahead of her brain, tripping over certain words and alighting on others as they caught her attention.
Corporal Driver Channer, L. Accident. Injured. Medical Leave.
Unexpectedly short of breath, she let the second of the two sheets of paper slip from her fingers and fall into her lap. ‘Please,’ she whispered, holding the first page towards Naomi, ‘can you tell me what this is about?’
When Naomi reached for the letter, Kate forced herself to look up and watch as her eyes sped along the lines of writing. Why was the army writing to her about Luke? Luke was dead.
Without saying anything, Naomi crossed quickly to Lawrence.
‘What is it, darling?’
‘It’s… well, no. I think you had better read it. Just to be sure.’ Handing her husband the letter, Naomi returned to sit alongside Kate.
Why did Naomi look so pale? How could a letter – that wasn’t even addressed to her – instantly drain so much colour from her cheeks?
And then, just as she reached to grab the arm of the bench, Mr Lawrence came across and squatted down beside her. And Naomi was taking her hands and holding them tightly. Dear God, whatever was this?
‘This letter, has been sent from Regimental HQ to inform you that there has been…’ Lawrence began, and with which she had to force herself to pay attention. ‘Well, that there has been a mistake.’ He too, she noticed abstractedly, seemed short of colour all of a sudden, his former glow, hard won from working outside, replaced by a sort of sickly pallor. ‘Kate, it seems that your husband is still alive.’