Now that they were once again in the oppressive green and red drawing room, Philip looked at her with concern.
“You saw him then?” he said quietly.
“Saw him?” Catherine was utterly surprised; surely he could not mean Thomas?
“In the trees.”
“Yes, I did see him. His presence took me by surprise,” she said and cleared her throat before continuing, “although I did not see him so fully that I could be sure.”
“It was him,” Philip said. “I had wondered if he would find his way there today.”
“Well, I daresay he is curious.”
“For a man to hover on the edge of a funeral suggests more than simple curiosity, Catherine.” Philip laughed, and she enjoyed his teasing tone.
“Perhaps,” she conceded.
It was almost impossible for Catherine not to question her brother there and then on everything he knew of Thomas in the last eight years. Seeing Thomas, albeit briefly, had awakened such strong feelings in her that she felt off-kilter, unwell even.
“So, our aunt and uncle really are good people?” Philip said as if he was simply carrying on the conversation of the day before. “Our father’s sister fell a little further from the tree, so to speak?”
“She fell in a different field altogether, Philip. A different world, almost.” Catherine smiled and was grateful for the diversion.
“And what of Derbyshire? What of Little … Little …?”
“Little Hayfield.” Catherine laughed. “It is the most beautiful little hamlet. Just a few houses and an inn. There is not even a church.”
“So, you have lived as a heathen, sister!” Philip was greatly amused, and his determined good mood reminded her so much of their life before they had been so cruelly separated.
“No, there is a church in Hayfield, the neighbouring village. I have always struggled not to call it Big Hayfield. Anyway, it is a large village within minutes of Ivy Manor.” She laughed and could hardly believe they had just buried their closest living relative. “So, I did not live as a heathen. Although I must admit, I was not on speaking terms with the Lord for some time. I simply went through the motions, right down to noiselessly mouthing the words of the hymns instead of actually singing them.”
“You used to do that when we were small.” Philip’s eyes were bright; he seemed happy and at peace to have his sister home again.
“Yes, I did, but I never realized that you knew it.” Catherine flushed happily.
“Was it very awful at first?” He looked suddenly serious.
“Yes, but through no fault of Aunt Celia or Uncle Charles,” she said and experienced a little flash of her feelings in those first days in Derbyshire. “I missed you so much that I cried for a good part of the awful journey from Hertfordshire. I wanted to write to you, but Aunt Celia advised me against it. Not through any cruelty on her part, but because she knew from bitter experience how spiteful and pernicious our father could be. She did not want a letter from me to fall into his hands and for you to suffer some punishment on account of it.”
“I understand.” Philip’s eyes looked glazed, and she hoped he would be able to contain his emotion. If he could not, she would be sunk. “And I had tried everything to find an address for our aunt. I did not know what I would do with it, but I decided it would be enough for me, to start with, to simply know where you were.”
“But you could not discover it?”
“There was nothing to be found until after he died and the attorney gave me the details. Before that, I scoured father’s study every time he left Barford Hall, but I daresay he knew that I would. And I did not even know our aunt’s name, neither first nor last, so I knew I would have no hope in tracing them by some other means.” He cleared his throat loudly. “I felt so helpless.”
“As did I. But you must let it go, Philip. There was nothing either one of us could have done about it. That was how our father worked; that was how he did things. He was always at his most effective when devising punishments, but even he surpassed himself back then. No doubt he congratulated himself daily for the completeness of my separation.”
“He was that sort of a man. I would like to be able to tell you that I finally saw some remorse for the way he had treated you, even for the way he had lived his life, but I cannot. He was the same man on the day he died as he had always been.” Philip shrugged. “Still, I suppose it spared us the pain of loss that we might have felt for a better father. It is small consolation for all that preceded it, but it is consolation nonetheless.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. I felt nothing as I looked down at his coffin.”
“Neither did I.”
“It is done now, Philip, and we shall be strangers no longer.” Catherine smiled, staring into his hazel eyes, so like her own.
“Will you come home now, Catherine?” Philip said, and she realized he spoke hopefully.
“Goodness, I had not thought of it.” Catherine felt suddenly unsteady.
She could not leave Celia and Charles behind, nor the safety that had been set up there for herself and her son. They had a story, and it must be stuck to at all costs.
“Well, I shall not press you, but I should like you to know that this is your home whenever you would wish it. I have missed you more than I can say.”
“And I have missed you. But I suppose I have a life in Derbyshire now. It is a less formal and less privileged life, but it is a good one, and I am fond of it.”
“Do you have a particular friend up there?” Philip approached the subject so delicately that she almost laughed.
“No, I have no understanding with any man and have never had if that is what you are asking.” She grinned.
“I see.” He looked down.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
“Philip, it might have been eight years, but I can still read you like a book.”
“It is just that so much has changed since you were here.” He looked so awkward that Catherine felt sure she knew what was coming.
“Thomas Carlton is married,” she said, making her question a statement.
“No, but his father has pushed him into an engagement. At least I think he has, for the lady in question is not someone I can imagine interesting Thomas much.” Philip spoke slowly and thoughtfully. “Although it is true that I have hardly laid eyes on Thomas since you left, and our fathers both saw to it that we never managed a moment’s conversation.” When Catherine said nothing, he went on, “But he has never bothered himself with any courtship since you left. That is why I can only assume it is his father’s doing.”
“But why would it be? His father never gave any thought to Thomas. He is the second son. The afterthought.” She said the last quietly, remembering again how Thomas had cheerfully described them both as such in happier times.
“Because Thomas will one day be the Duke.”
“What?”
“His brother died in an accident some years back. And if I know anything about Thomas, he will have been fending off his father’s attention ever since.”
“But we both know how hard that can be to maintain,” Catherine said miserably, marvelling that she did not feel a moment’s sorrow for the fate of Pierce Carlton.
“Catherine, it is only an engagement, and we both know they can be broken.” Philip gave her a mischievous smile as if they were conspirators in a great plot.
“Not so easily when one’s father is a determined man of title. Especially when that father has an old feud to continually feed.”
Catherine’s mind raced with possibilities she knew could never, ever transpire. She loved Thomas Carlton with all her heart, just as she had always done, but it was her responsibility, and hers alone, to protect the little boy his father had no idea existed.
Chapter 19
In the end, Catherine had settled to the idea of spending a fortnight with her brother at Barford Hall before returning to Derbyshire. He had complained a little at firs
t, but she had promised to be a regular visitor in the future, and so he had acquiesced.
But Philip had wanted her to have some place in Hertfordshire life and so had insisted that she accompany him to a late afternoon buffet at Lord Vinton’s country mansion. Catherine, not wanting to dampen her brother’s somewhat adorable enthusiasm for the two of them to be out in society together again, agreed with more alacrity than she felt.
Catherine had not been inside Lord Vinton’s home since the night of the dance he had held there so many years before; the night when Thomas Carlton, a man who ought to have been her natural enemy, had contrived the first ever secret meeting between them.
The wonderful, unforgettable evening that would let loose a chain of events that neither one of them could have anticipated.
Despite the fact that she liked Lord Vinton very much and would be pleased to see him again after so many years, Catherine did not quite feel ready to be out in society again. She doubted she would ever really be ready for the society in Hertfordshire ever, but she would do her very best if only for Philip’s sake.
Lord Vinton’s mansion was as welcoming as she remembered it, as was the man himself.
“Good afternoon, Lady Catherine. What a true pleasure it is to see you.” The ageing lord smiled at her warmly, welcoming her without making a great fuss of it.
It was almost as if it had only been a matter of weeks since she had last seen him, and Catherine was grateful for it. Lord Vinton had kindly set the tone for the rest, and since their host had not made a three-act opera out of her return, nobody else did.
“Lord Vinton, you look as hale and hearty as ever, Sir.” Catherine’s words were genuine. “And it is a pleasure for me to see you again too. Thank you kindly for inviting me this afternoon.”
“You are always most welcome.” He narrowed his eyes like a contented cat, and Catherine thought she liked him all the more.
His gentle greeting had given her confidence, and she walked into the drawing room of Vinton Hall with less trepidation than she might have felt otherwise. And yet, by the time she had spoken, albeit briefly, to a number of her old acquaintances and neighbours, Catherine felt a little drained.
So much had changed, and Catherine knew she was a very different person now. She did not quite fit in with her old life anymore, and she knew she never would. The truth was that she did not think she really wanted to fit in with her old life anymore.
As much as Catherine liked Lord Vinton, she realized she liked him for his easy manner and lack of ostentation. But his guests, for the most part, were not blessed with the same fine qualities, and Catherine realized that she had not missed the old competition that was rife in fine society.
Derbyshire, or at least Little Hayfield, was a different place, and she thought that she would much prefer to be walking the steep climb up Lantern Pike, the great green mass of a hill she had first set eyes upon on the day she had arrived at Ivy Manor.
“How are you managing?” Philip said to her halfway through the afternoon.
“Oh, I am managing alright.” Catherine smiled at him and found she was not keen to upset him by having him know just how much she would have liked to leave. “I always like the food that Lord Vinton lays on.”
“Yes, good and filling without being at all silly or trying to impress,” Philip agreed wholeheartedly.
“Lord Vinton would do very well in Derbyshire. There is a nice sense that he is very down to …” Catherine broke off and stared open-mouthed across the room to where Thomas Carlton had just walked in.
“Catherine?” Philip said and narrowed his eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I … Yes, I am perfectly alright,” she said and laughed nervously when she realized just how unconvincing she sounded.
Philip spun around to see what she was staring at before turning back to her with a look of understanding on his face. He smiled at her kindly and reached out to lay a hand on her arm.
“Is it so difficult to see him again?” Philip said in a near whisper.
“I think it is seeing the woman he is to marry that is the worst. I do not think I could bear it, and I wish that they had not come. Perhaps it is a simple thing for him to have moved along with life, but I was the one who was banished; I was the one who suffered, and were I wearing his shoes today, I most certainly would not have arrived here with my fiancée.” Catherine realized she sounded a little bitter. “I would have had more tact and kindness in my heart than that.”
“I know you would have, my darling sister. But I am bound to tell you that the woman who has walked in at the same time as Thomas Carlton is not, in fact, his fiancée. It is a simple coincidence, and I think he hardly knows the woman at all.”
“Oh, thank heavens for that,” Catherine said and let out a great sigh. “All of this is hard enough as it is without the idea that I will be confronted with such a thing. Perhaps the sooner I get back to Derbyshire, the better.”
“Please, please do not go. I only have these two weeks with you as it is, and it is little enough time. Perhaps I ought not to have insisted that you come out with me this afternoon. I should have realized the potential for such upset. I should have realized what fears you must have left the house with. Please, forgive me, sister.”
“I daresay I cannot stay indoors forever, even if I am only here for two weeks. And since I have promised to be a regular visitor, I shall have to get used to the sight of Thomas Carlton and the woman who is to be his wife. Sooner or later, anyway.”
“From the way he looks over here, I would not be so sure that Lady Eleanor Barchester will ever be Thomas Carlton’s wife. Not, I daresay, that that will be her biggest concern. Not being the Duchess of Shawcross will likely be the larger part of her disappointment in that question.” Philip laughed, and Catherine smiled, knowing that all he wanted in the world was to cheer her up.
“I do not think that there will be much to stand in the way of Thomas Carlton’s wedding, especially given the tenacity of his father. The Duke is no different from our father, certainly not a man who would be reasoned with. Let us not forget; I am not an ordinary woman, am I? I am the daughter of the Duke’s greatest enemy, and things will never be any different.”
“Yes, but …” Philip began.
“No, Philip, it must be accepted. I have had enough pain and disappointment in my life to realize that I do not want any more. And to set myself up with hopes of something that will never, ever happen, would be the greatest of follies. I understand why you would want to give me hope, brother, and hope is a very fine thing until it is taken away. All that hope when that happens is just another cruel blow. Forgive me; I do not wish to be morbid, especially when you are trying so hard to keep my spirits up.”
“There is nothing to forgive. I understand what you are saying entirely, and I cannot tell you how much I wish things were different for you.” Philip looked as upset as she felt. “Let us give it a few minutes, and then we shall leave, Catherine.”
“No, there is no need to do that, Philip. All I need is a few minutes to gather myself, and I shall behave normally. If I am to be your visitor here, if I am to regain the old friendship that you and I once had, I will need to get used to seeing Thomas. There is no sense in putting the thing off any longer, for it has already been put off these last eight years.” Catherine took a steadying breath. “No, I will speak to him if I get the opportunity of it. That is the worst of it; once that is done, I shall be free of that fear at least.” She smiled at him reassuringly, and Philip returned her gaze with admiration.
“Then perhaps there is no time like the present, for he looks over this way continually,” Philip said and raised his eyebrows in question.
Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 43