by Betty Neels
Kate went down to talk to the clerk at the reception desk. Why had they come all this way? she wondered. Lady Cowder could have played bridge just as easily at home. She set about the business of smoothing Lady Cowder’s progress through Norway.
Alesund was a large town, built on several islands, and the hotel was, fortunately, to Lady Cowder’s liking. It had all the trappings she found so necessary for her comfort—a uniformed porter at its door, bell boys to see to the luggage, a smiling chambermaid and willing room-service. Her room, the lady was pleased to admit, was extremely comfortable—and there was a number of Americans and English staying at the hotel.
Kate unpacked once again, listened to a list of instructions without really hearing them, and went to find her own room, which was two flights up with a view of surrounding rooftops. It was comfortable, though, and she had her own shower. She hung up her few clothes and went down to make sure that Reception knew about Lady Cowder’s wishes. She found some information leaflets, too, and took them back with her to read later.
Hopefully they would stay here for the rest of their time in Norway—they had been only nine days at Olden; there were still more than two weeks before they returned to England. Kate prayed that there would be an unending flow of bridge players for the next few weeks. Certainly, there were several Americans in the foyer.
She went back to Lady Cowder to tell her this, and was told to order tea to be sent up.
‘And you can get yourself tea, if you wish,’ said Lady Cowder, amiable at the prospect of suitable company.
Mr Tait-Bouverie, finding himself with several days of freedom between lectures, reminded himself that his aunt might be glad to see him. It was his duty, he told himself, to keep an eye on her so that he could assure his mother that her sister was well. At the same time he could make sure that Kate was having as good a time as possible.
It annoyed him that he was unable to forget her while at the same time remaining unwillingly aware of her. He reminded himself that his interest in her was merely to see if she would achieve her ambition and branch out on her own. She was a competent girl, probably she would build up a solid business cooking pies and whatever.
He drove himself to Olden, to be told at the hotel there that Lady Cowder had given up her room and gone to Alesund. So after lunch he drove on, enjoying the grand scenery, queueing for the ferries as he came to them, going unhurriedly so that he had the leisure to look around him. He had been on that road some years earlier, but the scenery never failed to delight him.
It was four o’clock by the time he reached the hotel at Alesund and its foyer was nearly full. He saw Kate at once, standing with her back to him, reading a poster on a wall. He crossed to her without haste, tapped her lightly on the shoulder and said, ‘Hello, Kate.’ He was aware of a deep content at the sight of her.
Kate had turned round at his touch and for a moment her delight at seeing him again was plain to see. Though only for a moment. She wished him good afternoon in a quiet voice from a serene face. She asked at once, ‘Have you come to see Lady Cowder? I’m sure she will be delighted to see you…’
‘Are you delighted to see me?’
She prudently ignored this. ‘She plays bridge until five o’clock every afternoon.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’m just waiting here until she’s ready for me.’
‘Your free time?’ He wanted to know.
‘Yes, every afternoon unless there’s something…’ She paused. ‘I’ve seen quite a lot of the town,’ she added chattily. ‘Walking, you know, one can see so much more…’
He had a mental picture of her making her lonely way from one street to the next with no one to talk to and no money to spend. He put a hand under her elbow and said gently, ‘Shall we sit down and share a pot of tea? If you’ll wait here while I get a room and order tea…’
He sat her down in a quiet corner of the lounge alongside the foyer and went away, to return within minutes followed by a waitress with the tea tray, a plate of sandwiches and a cakestand of tempting cream cakes.
‘Be mother,’ said Mr Tait-Bouverie. Kate, he could see, was being wary, not sure of herself, so he assumed the manner in which he treated his childish patients—an easy-going friendliness combined with a matter-of-fact manner which never failed to put them at their ease.
He watched Kate relax, passed the sandwiches and asked presently, ‘Do you suppose my aunt intends to stay here for the rest of her holiday?’
‘Well, as long as there are enough people to make up a four for bridge. I think she is enjoying herself; it’s a very comfortable hotel and the food is excellent, and so is the service.’
‘Good; I shall be able to send a satisfactory report to my mother. What happens in the evenings?’
He watched her select a cake with serious concentration.
‘I believe there’s dancing on some evenings. I—I don’t really know. I dine early, you see, and then go and wait for Lady Cowder to come to bed.’
‘Surely my aunt is capable of undressing herself?’ He frowned. ‘And why do you dine early? Don’t you take your meals together?’
Kate went pink. ‘No, Mr Tait-Bouverie. You forget—I’m your aunt’s housekeeper.’ She saw the look on his face and added hastily, ‘I don’t take my meals with Lady Cowder in her own home.’
‘That is entirely another matter. So you don’t dance in the evenings?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m having a lovely holiday,’ she told him earnestly.
A statement of doubtful truth, reflected Mr Tait-Bouverie.
It was two minutes to five o’clock. ‘I must go,’ said Kate. ‘Thank you for my tea.’ She hesitated. ‘I dare say you would like to surprise Lady Cowder?’
‘No, no. I’ll come up with you. Is she in her room?’
‘There is a card room on the first floor. I go there first…’
She sounded so unenthusiastic at the thought of his company that Mr Tait-Bouverie found himself smiling, then wondered why.
It had struck five o’clock by the time they reached the card room. Lady Cowder was sitting with her back to the door, but she heard Kate come in. Without turning round, she said, in the rather die-away voice calculated to win sympathy from her companions, ‘You’re late, Kate, and I have such a headache. I dare say you forgot the time.’ She glanced at her three companions. ‘It is so hard to get a really reliable…’ She paused, because they were all looking towards the door.
Mr Tait-Bouverie, a large hand in the small of Kate’s back propelling her forward, spoke before Kate could utter.
‘Blame me, Aunt. I saw Kate as I arrived and kept her talking. I was surprised to find that you had left Olden, and she explained—’
‘My dear boy,’ said Lady Cowder in a quite different voice. ‘How delightful to see you. Have you come all this way just to see how I was enjoying myself? I hope you can stay for a few days.’
She got up and offered a cheek for his kiss, then turned to the three ladies at the bridge table. ‘You must forgive me. This is my nephew; he’s over here lecturing and has come to see me.’
He shook hands and made all the usual polite remarks, aware that Kate had returned to stand by the door, watching, ignored. She might have been a piece of furniture.
‘We shall see you this evening?’ asked one of the ladies.
‘Certainly. We shall be dining later.’ He turned to his aunt. ‘At what time do you and Kate have dinner, Aunt?’
Lady Cowder looked uncomfortable. ‘I dine at half past eight, James.’ She smiled brightly at her bridge companions. ‘I’m sure we shall all meet presently.’
She said her goodbyes and went to the door. Mr Tait-Bouverie, following her, slipped a hand under Kate’s elbow and smiled down at her.
The three ladies were intrigued; his Aunt was outraged. Alone with him presently she said, ‘You forget, James, Kate is my housekeeper.’
He agreed placidly. ‘Indeed I do; anyone less like a housekeeper I have yet to meet.’
‘And it is quite impossible to dine with her…’
Mr Tait-Bouverie’s blue eyes were hard. ‘Can she not manage her knife and fork?’ he enquired gently.
‘Yes, of course she can. Don’t be absurd, James. But she hasn’t the right clothes.’
‘Ah,’ said Mr Tait-Bouverie, and added reflectively, ‘You and my mother are so different, I find it hard to remember that you are sisters.’
Lady Cowder preened herself. ‘Well, we aren’t at all alike. I was always considered the beauty, you know, and your mother never much cared for a social life. It has often surprised me that she should have married your father. Such a handsome and famous man.’
‘My mother married my father because she loved him and he loved her. I see no surprise in that.’
Lady Cowder gave a little trill of laughter. ‘Dear boy, you sound just like your father. Isn’t it high time you married yourself?’
‘I think that perhaps it is,’ said Mr Tait-Bouverie, and wandered away to his own room.
Kate, summoned presently to zip up a dress, find the right handbag and make sure that Reception hadn’t forgotten Lady Cowder’s late-night hot drink, was treated to unusual loquacity on the part of her employer.
‘My nephew has plans to marry,’ she observed, already, in her mind’s eye, seeing Claudia walking down the aisle smothered in white tulle and satin. ‘He is, of course, a most eligible man, but dear Claudia is exactly what he needs—pretty and well dressed, and used to his way of life. The dear girl must be in seventh heaven.’
She surveyed her reflection in the pier-glass, nodded in satisfaction and glanced briefly at Kate. Not really worth a glance in that brown…
Mr Tait-Bouverie, dining presently with his aunt, behaved towards her with his usual courtesy, but refused to be drawn when she attempted to find out if he had plans to marry soon.
As they drank their coffee he asked idly, ‘Where is Kate? Off duty?’
‘Waiting for me in my room. I’m sure she is glad to have an hour or so to herself.’ Lady Cowder added virtuously, ‘I never keep her up late.’
They went presently to the small ballroom where several couples were dancing to a three-piece band. When he had settled his aunt with several of her acquaintances, James excused himself.
‘But it’s early, James,’ his aunt protested. ‘Do you care to dance for a while? I’m sure there are enough pretty girls…’
He smiled at her. ‘I’m going to ask Kate to dance with me,’ he told her.
Kate, leaning out of the window to watch the street below, withdrew her head and shoulders smartly at the knock on the door. Lady Cowder occasionally sent for her, wanting something or other, so Kate called, ‘Come in,’ and went to the door to meet the messenger.
Mr Tait-Bouverie came in quietly and shut the door behind him. ‘If you could bear with a middle-aged partner, shall we go dancing?’
Kate stopped herself just in time from saying yes. Instead she said sedately, ‘That’s very kind of you to ask me, sir, but I stay here in the evenings in case Lady Cowder should need me.’
‘She doesn’t need you; she is with people she knows. I have told her that we are going to dance.’
‘And she said that I could?’
Mr Tait-Bouverie, a man of truth, dallied with it now. ‘I didn’t hear her reply, but I can’t see that she can have any objection.’
Kate had allowed common sense to take over. ‘Well, I can. I mean, it just won’t do.’ And then, speaking her thoughts out loud, she added, ‘You’re not middle-aged.’
‘Oh, good. You consider thirty-five still youthful enough to circle the dance floor?’
‘Well, of course. What nonsense you talk…’ She stopped and started again. ‘What I should have said…’
‘Don’t waste time trying to be a housekeeper, Kate.’
He whisked her down to the ballroom at a tremendous pace and danced her onto the floor.
It had been some years since Kate had gone dancing, but she was good at it. It took only a few moments for her to realise that Mr Tait-Bouverie was good at it, too. Oblivious of Lady Cowder’s staring eyes, the glances from the other guests, the brown dress, she allowed herself to forget everything save the pleasure of dancing with the perfect partner—for despite his vast size he was certainly that. He didn’t talk, either, for which she was thankful. Just dancing was enough…
The music stopped and she came down to earth. ‘Thank you, sir, that was very nice. Now, if you will excuse me…’
‘Kate, Kate, will you stop being a housekeeper for at least this evening? You aren’t my housekeeper, you know. The band’s starting up again—good. And did I ever tell you that I shall wring your neck if you call me “sir”? I should hate to do that, for you are a magnificent dancer—big girls always are.’
Kate drew a deep breath. ‘How very rude,’ she told him coldly. ‘I know I’m large, but you didn’t have to say so…’
‘Ah, the real Kate at last. Did I say big? I should have said superbly built, with all the curves in the right places, and a splendid head of hair.’
Kate had gone very pink. ‘I know you’re joking, but please don’t. It—it isn’t kind…’
‘I don’t mean to be kind. You see, Kate, I want to see behind that serene face of yours and discover the real Kate. And I’m not joking, only trying to get to know you—and it seems to me that the only way to do that is to stir you up.’
The music stopped once more and he took her arm. ‘Let us take a walk.’
‘A walk? Now? But in an hour Lady Cowder will go to bed.’
‘We can walk miles in an hour. Go and get a jacket or shawl or something while I tell her.’
Kate gathered her wits together. ‘No, no. Really, I can’t! I’d love to, but I really mustn’t.’
For answer he took her arm and trotted her across the room to where his aunt sat.
‘I’m taking Kate for a brisk walk,’ he told her. ‘I’m sure you won’t mind, Aunt. It’s a pleasant evening and we shan’t be gone long. Do you need Kate again before you go to bed?’
‘Yes—no…’ Lady Cowder was bereft of words for once. ‘I dare say I can manage.’
‘I’ll knock when I come in, Lady Cowder,’ said Kate in her housekeeper’s voice. ‘But if you would prefer me not to go, then I’ll not do so.’
Lady Cowder looked around her at several interested faces.
‘No, no, there’s no need. Go and enjoy yourself.’ She added wistfully, ‘How delightful it must be to be young and have so much energy.’ She smiled around her, and was gratified by the approving glances. She was, she told herself, a kind and considerate employer, and Kate was a very fortunate young woman. Poor James must be feeling very bored, but he was always a man to be kind to those less fortunate than himself.
They walked the short distance to the harbour, which thrust deep into the centre of the town, and walked around it. It was still light and quite warm, and there were plenty of people still about. Mr Tait-Bouverie sauntered along beside Kate, talking of this and that in a pleasantly casual manner, slipping in a question here and there so skilfully that she hardly noticed what a lot she was telling him.
On their way back to the hotel he observed, ‘Since I’m here with a car I’ll drive you to the nearest two islands tomorrow. You’re free in the afternoon?’
Kate said cautiously, ‘Well, I am usually—but if Lady Cowder wants to go anywhere or needs me for something…’
‘Like what?’
‘Well—something; I don’t know what.’
He said softly, ‘You don’t need to make excuses if you don’t want to come with me, Kate.’
She stopped and looked up at him. ‘Oh, but I do, really I do. You have no idea…’
She paused, and he finished for her. ‘How lonely you are…?’
She nodded. ‘I feel very ungrateful, for really I have nothing much to do and I don’t suppose I’ll ever have the chance to come here again.’
‘But you are lonely?’
/>
‘Yes.’
He began to tell her about the islands. ‘Unique,’ he told her. ‘Connected by tunnels under the sea, and the islands themselves are charming. There is a small, very old church with beautiful murals; we’ll go and look at it.’
At the hotel she wished him goodnight. ‘It was a lovely evening,’ she told him. ‘Thank you.’
He stared down at her upturned face. He knew as he watched her smile that he was going to marry her. He could see that there would be obstacles in his path, not least of which would be Kate’s wariness as to his intentions once he declared them. But he had no intention of doing that for the moment. First he must get behind that calm façade she had adopted as his aunt’s housekeeper and find the real Kate. He was a patient man and a determined one; he had no doubt as to the outcome, but it might take a little time.
He said with cheerful friendliness, ‘Goodnight, Kate. I’ll see you tomorrow around two o’clock.’
Kate paused on her way to her room, wondering if she should knock on Lady Cowder’s door—and then decided not to. She had said that there was no need, hadn’t she? Besides, Kate hated the idea of the cross examination to which she would be subjected.
She stood under the shower for a long time, remembering her delightful evening. It was strange how Mr Tait-Bouverie seemed to have changed. He was really rather nice. She got into bed and lay thinking about tomorrow’s trip. She would have a lot to write home about, she thought sleepily.
She was on the point of sleep when she remembered that Mr Tait-Bouverie was going to marry Claudia. If she hadn’t been half-asleep already the thought would have upset her.
Lady Cowder wasn’t in a good mood in the morning. Kate was sent away to press a dress which should have been done yesterday. ‘But, of course, if you aren’t here to do your work, what can one expect?’ asked Lady Cowder, adopting her aggrieved, put-upon voice. Kate said nothing, seeing her chances of being free in the afternoon dwindling. She was aware that her employer disapproved of her nephew having anything to do with her, and would interfere if she could.