Chapter Nineteen

A lfred came into the kitchen, staggering under the weight of the wood he carried. He nodded to Kitty and Lizzie, who were busily rolling out pastry on the scrubbed pine table, and tipped the chopped logs into the basket by the fire.

"You'll never guess what I've heard," he declared, putting his hands to the small of his back and stretching.

"The king himself is coming for tea?" quipped Lizzie. "I could believe almost anything after the time we've had."

Alfred guffawed. "Not quite, but not far off."

"Mercy on us." Lizzie put a floury hand to her bosom. "He's jesting, surely?" she appealed to Kitty.

Kitty longed only for peace and quiet, but she turned a practised smile onto Alfred. "Tell us, please."

"His lordship is returning to the king's service." Alfred nodded in the direction of Rossfarne Castle. "Our Earl of Rossfarne happens to be a knight of the realm. Not a scoundrel, like his uncle before him. And that's not all."

Kitty lowered her face until her hair hung forwards and obscured the blush that rose to her cheeks at the mention of Guy. Her heart pounded as if he was standing in the room beside her.

"Alfred, finish your tale before we grow weary of it." Lizzie flapped her hands at her fellow servant.

"He's shutting up the castle." Alfred helped himself to a slice of fruit pie, newly brought from the oven. "He'll be gone for months, years perhaps."

His words reached Kitty as if through a haze of fog. She half rose from her chair, panic sending pinpricks of heat to her arms and legs.

"Years?" she repeated.

Alfred shrugged, oblivious to her turmoil. "He's leaving the marshal in charge," he said, through a mouthful of pie.

Kitty stood up and her chair clattered to the stone floor behind her.

"Mercy, what is it now?" demanded Lizzie. "The good Lord knows my nerves can't stand any more surprises."

Kitty couldn't find any words to explain herself. She stood in the sun-filled kitchen and gawped like a deer caught in a huntsman's gaze.

"I must go," she muttered, abandoning her newly rolled pastry.

"Kitty, what ails you?" Lizzie called out after her, but Kitty was deaf to her pleading. She gathered her skirts and swept out of the room, her pulse racing.

The front parlour brought her no peace, nor did her bedchamber. Eventually she found herself wandering in the kitchen garden, deaf to the birdsong and blind to nature's bounty all around her. She walked around in circles, growing more confused with every turn until a familiar voice pierced her delirium.

"When Lizzie told me you were out here pacing up and down like a woman gone mad, I thought she was exaggerating," Rosalind declared.

Kitty glanced towards her sister, who was sitting on the back steps in a loose-fitting dress and hugging her knees. She opened her mouth to tell Rosalind to fetch a shawl against the chill, but then closed it again. The day carried only the slightest breeze. And besides that, Rosalind had proved herself well capable of making her own decisions.

It was Kitty who needed the advice.

"I don't know what to do." The words were ripped from her. She expected her sister to look surprised, but Rosalind merely smiled and drew her neat braid of hair down over one shoulder.

"So, my wise and sensible older sister finally admits that she doesn't have all the answers."

Kitty shot her a look, but couldn't take the time to formulate a proper response. Her mind was full of Guy. She shouldn't have left, not without expressing herself properly. He had told her he was falling in love with her. And she had allowed him to think that those feelings were not returned, when in fact her love for him filled every pore of her body.

Rosalind jumped up and took her arm with surprising strength. "Tell me," she ordered.

Kitty looked at her helplessly. When did her little sister grow so poised and lovely? Beside her, Kitty was like a wild woman with tangled hair and swollen eyes. "I've made so many mistakes," she whispered.

Rosalind reached up to stroke her dishevelled hair. "With love in your heart and purity of intention," she said, simply.

"But that doesn't make anything better." Kitty sat down, uncaring of the damp grass beneath her. Rosalind pursed her lips, then gathered her skirts to kneel gracefully by her side. "Don't sit there, the grass is wet," Kitty warned instinctively.

Rosalind gave a short bark of laughter. "Let us walk then, dear sister, and you can tell me what ails you." She got lightly to her feet and extended her hand. "You can tell me anything, you know. I'm practically an old married woman."

"Oh, Rosalind," Kitty exclaimed, her cheeks blushing pink for the second time, but her sister spun away laughing.

"I don't mean that."

"I should hope not." Kitty smoothed her skirts, painfully aware of her own double standards.

"Richard has kissed me though," Rosalind declared boldly. "And I let him. I even wanted him to. I love him, Kitty. And I can't describe how wonderful that makes me feel."

A lump lodged in Kitty's throat. "You don't have to describe it," she whispered, "I know it for myself."

Rosalind spun around to grasp both her hands. Her grip was warm and reassuring. "Really?"

"Really." Kitty wanted to smile but was closer to crying.

"With who?" Rosalind's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Who else was at the castle with you? Not another one of the servants, surely?"

Kitty's courage failed her, but why should she hide the truth from her sister of all people?

"With the Earl of Rossfarne," she whispered. "Guy."

"The Earl of Rossfarne?" Rosalind shrieked so loudly that Kitty was sure the fishermen in the harbour must have heard. She shushed her urgently, but Rosalind merely shook her head, her long braid swinging from side to side. "You've been a little quiet these last few days, I did wonder if anything was wrong. But I never thought…" She trailed off, biting her lip in wonder. "I certainly never thought that anything would happen between you and him ."

"If you met him, you would like him." Kitty swallowed, knowing such a meeting was unlikely to happen.

"The Earl of Rossfarne?" Rosalind repeated, at a more reasonable volume. "The man who took our jewels? The man who gambled with Father over you ?" Her voice rose uncontrollably again.

Kitty grasped her sister's wrist and pulled her further away from the house. The last thing she wanted was for Lizzie or Alfred to hear her confession. "He tried to return the jewels," she said, pleased to tell this tale at last. "No one would answer the door to him."

"Oh." Rosalind's eyes were as round as saucers. "So that was what he wanted?"

Kitty nodded. "All the time I was there, I was trying to find a way to steal back the jewels. But if I'd just told him the truth from the start, he would have given them to me. I know that now. I was such a fool." She clutched her arms over her chest as if trying to keep hold of the grief that was spilling out of her.

Rosalind nibbled her lip thoughtfully as pigeons cooed from the fruit trees. "How could you have known though?" she asked after a pause.

"Because he only ever showed me kindness." Sorrow dragged down her limbs and she sniffed in a most unladylike manner.

Her sister stopped walking and looked at her enquiringly. "How so? He was the earl, and you were just a servant."

"We spoke, often. I even sang for him." A hard lump formed in her throat as she put it all into words. "He protected me from his uncle, the Earl of Darkmoor, when he came to visit. If Guy hadn't helped me, he would have…" Kitty shook her head, unwilling to go further. "He was suffering from an injury he sustained in battle, and I tended to his wounds." She gulped back tears as she tried to explain it all.

"And?" Rosalind raised her eyebrows, her expression wise beyond her years.

Kitty ducked away from her knowing gaze. "And so much more."

"You kissed him?" Rosalind's voice was breathless and her cheeks tinged with pink.

"I did." Kitty put her hands to her face, hiding her shame. She wouldn't say anything further to her innocent sister, though part of her longed to tell of how Guy had set her body on fire with his love-making. He made her feel things she'd never dreamed of. Sensations she would never again experience.

"Did he take advantage of you?" Rosalind asked, her face pointed and anxious.

"No." Kitty shook her head fervently. "Nothing like that. He told me he loved me." Tears were streaming down her face now. "And he said he would find a way for us to be together." Her voice broke at the memory, and she sniffed again. Her hands fumbled in her pockets for a handkerchief but came out empty.

Rosalind gasped, her eyes wide as she took it all in. "He told you he loved you?"

Kitty nodded, abandoning her search for a handkerchief and using her sleeve instead.

"And do you love him?" Rosalind pursed her lips and pointedly handed over her own handkerchief.

"I do." The words came out on a wail of anguish as she finally admitted the truth in her heart, pressing her damp face into the lavender-scented folds of cloth.

"But Kitty, this is no cause for grief. If two people love each other, they can find a way to be together." Rosalind's voice was full of optimism. For her, life was so simple. They had reached the highest point of the garden, from here the land dipped down towards the sparkling sea. As if mindful of the painful memories it would bring, Rosalind turned them both around so they were facing the green sweep of lawn and the familiar outline of Shoreston.

"Not always," Kitty insisted, dabbing her eyes. "Not when one person has lied to the other." This was the crux of it. The act she would never forgive herself for. The black beams of her childhood home blurred in front of her. She was deaf to the melodic tweeting of the birds and oblivious to the golden slant of the sun's rays.

"Nonsense," Rosalind tutted impatiently. "Everyone makes mistakes."

Kitty shook her head. "I put my fear and distrust before everything else. He was so angry." She recalled the coldness in his voice when he ordered her to leave and she shivered, despite the warmth of the day.

Rosalind put her blonde head to one side and regarded her thoughtfully. "Won't he have had time to calm down, by now?"

"I couldn't go back." Kitty started pacing again, wringing her hands in agitation. "I couldn't face him."

"I think you're going to have to." Rosalind folded her arms decisively. "Or you'll spend the rest of your days regretting it. Come inside, I have an idea."

*

"Here now." Rosalind placed the dress reverently on the bed and stood back to admire the shimmering silk. A splash of colour in the otherwise plain bedchamber. "This will look beautiful on you," she declared.

Kitty felt flushed and untidy, but she couldn't help reaching down to run her hand over the rose-coloured gown. The silken fabric pooled beneath her fingers as she gently touched a row of impossibly tiny pearl buttons. This dress was from another age of happiness and wealth. It had belonged to their mother, worn only for the most special occasions. Since Isabella's death, Kitty had been keeping it safe for Rosalind. She'd imagined fetching it out for her sister's engagement ball.

"I couldn't wear it," she declared. "I'm too tall, and I'm the wrong shape as well." She snatched back her hand, embarrassed.

"You will wear it. And when the Earl of Rossfarne sees you, he will be so overcome he will sweep you into his arms and forgive you everything."

Kitty ignored such a romantic flight of fancy. "This dress is meant for someone dainty and elegant, like you." She was better suited to the servant's dress she'd worn in Rossfarne Castle.

Her sister pretended she hadn't spoken. "You need a pendant to go with it." She flicked a glance at Kitty. "Maybe one of the Answick jewels?"

"No." Kitty backed away and held up her hands as if warding off a curse. "Not them."

Rosalind let out a peal of laughter. "Maybe you're right," she conceded. "But we will find something. And before that, you will sit still and let me fix your hair. You won't leave this bedchamber until I've transformed you into the lady you were always meant to be."

Rosalind stood on tiptoe until she could reach Kitty's shoulders and lower her forcibly into a waiting chair. Kitty opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. Her determination to eschew her mother's lineage hadn't brought her good fortune of any kind. A small part of her mind suggested that mayhap it was time to embrace it? Still, she couldn't help sighing deeply as Rosalind fussed over her.

"This doesn't feel right," she stated. Since Rosalind's birth, Kitty had been the one to stand in attendance.

Rosalind rolled her eyes, her mouth full of hairpins. "Stay still," she ordered.

Nerves flickered in Kitty's breast as Rosalind's deft fingers ran through her unruly locks of hair, pinning and securing it neatly on top of her head. She was to appear to Guy as Miss Katherine Alden, for the first time. She would claim her ancestry and her upbringing, meeting him not as an equal, far from it, but as a woman of some means, nonetheless.

If only she had done so from the start.

"There." Rosalind stepped back, triumphantly. "You look beautiful."

"In comparison to what?"

Her sister tutted, darting forwards to secure a stray curl which had escaped her ministrations. "You are beautiful, Kitty," she declared, matter-of-factly, "don't try and talk yourself out of it."

Kitty didn't believe her, but she could see that Rosalind spoke from a place of love. She clutched her hand. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for understanding. And thank you for all of this." She gestured at the sumptuous gown before reaching up and patting her pinned hair. "I'm sure I shan't know myself." She fought a wave of self-consciousness. "I'm not used to it, that's all."

Rosalind's eyes were dancing. "Time for the dress," she declared. "Stand up."

Clad only in her chemise, Kitty stepped carefully into the silken gown and allowed Rosalind to button it behind her, smoothing out the creases and ensuring the expensive fabric flowed snugly over her curves. Kitty hardly dared to believe it, but the dress fit her perfectly. She turned around and it spun with her, flaring slightly at the back.

"It was made for you," smiled Rosalind.

"It was made for Mother," Kitty corrected her. "I never thought…" her voice trailed off.

"You never thought you could follow in her footsteps," Rosalind finished off for her. "You closed yourself off from the possibility of living a comfortable, respectable life, determined to see me become a lady, even as you scrubbed floors and mended stockings. But worse than that, you never allowed yourself to think of your own happiness." Rosalind frowned up at her. "I hope that's about to change."

Nerves assaulted Kitty afresh. "That depends on Guy," she whispered, emotions shooting through her at the feel of his name on her tongue.

"Fight for what you want," Rosalind said, lifting her silver chain over her head and fastening it around Kitty's neck. "For your sake, this time, not mine." She patted the chain. "This will bring you luck."

Kitty's fingers sought out her sister's. "I'll take all the luck I can get."

"Come then," Rosalind stood back. "You have an earl to woo."

Kitty flushed, remembering how it had felt to run her fingers over Guy's shoulders and see him responding to her touch. She had wooed him once, in a servant's cap and apron. Now she was dressed like a lady, but she had never felt more vulnerable. After a moment's thought, she tipped the small number of shining coins she'd earned at Rossfarne Castle into her mother's coin purse. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

"What about Lizzie and Alfred?" Kitty put a hand to her heart. As much as she loved them both, she couldn't bear to have them fussing over her wellbeing just now.

"It's alright. Lizzie is taking a nap and Alfred is busy in one of the barns. If we leave by the front door, no one will see us."

"Are you coming with me?" Kitty was both surprised and gratified.

"Are you seriously asking me that? This is the most fun I've ever had with my older sister." Rosalind nudged her playfully. "Although I'll leave the earl to you. I have to admit, the thought of him still terrifies me."

"That's because you don't know him," Kitty said earnestly.

"I believe you. But there's time enough for that. Today is about you and him." Rosalind squeezed her hand. "Are you ready?"

She wasn't. She would never be. But if she didn't go now, she may never get another chance.

"I'm ready."

*

They stood on the beach, holding hands and biting their lips at the sight of the flooded causeway.

"We misjudged the tides," Rosalind said.

Kitty swallowed down a new lump in her throat. "Low tide won't come again until nightfall." She shrugged, as if this fact didn't cut her to the core.

"And the earl may be gone by tomorrow." Rosalind spoke the words that Kitty could not bring herself to.

All of Kitty's newfound courage faded away. "I am too late." Her voice trembled as emotion threatened to overwhelm her.

"No, never." Rosalind shook her head violently, her golden hair shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. "There is always a way."

Kitty knew a swell of envy at her younger sister, secure in a loving relationship and buoyed up with hope for the future.

"I am tired, Rosalind," she said, feeling it in every bone of her body. Though the gown she wore was beautiful, the restrictive bodice nipped her flesh and made her back ache. The skirts were heavy and her hair was tight against her scalp. She'd made herself into a lady for naught.

"The earl's boathouse," her sister exclaimed, tugging at her hand. "Let's ask there."

Shame gathered in her belly. "I couldn't," she hissed.

"Why not?" Rosalind raised her eyebrows. "You do know, you were only pretending to be a servant?"

Kitty shook her head, unable to articulate her reluctance, but Rosalind would not be dissuaded. She knocked at the small wooden door of the boathouse, then pushed it open without waiting for a response. Both of them blinked at the sudden gloom after the bright sunshine outside.

"I take orders from none but the Earl of Rossfarne," a deep, male voice boomed from inside the boathouse.

"The Earl of Rossfarne is a personal friend of my sister's," Rosalind declared, making Kitty wince with embarrassment. "She wishes to go across to the castle."

A tall, dark-haired man came into view. He was wiping his hands on an oily cloth and regarding them appraisingly. Behind him, Kitty could just make out a shingle track down to the sea and the sleek rowing boat adorned with the earl's coat of arms. The sight of it took her back to that dreadful night in the parlour and conversely, gave her a boost of courage. She had learned a lot since then.

She straightened her back and met the man's enquiring gaze. "That is correct."

The boatman shook his head. "I've heard nothing from the earl."

She inclined her head. "He is not expecting me."

"Well then." He threw the oily rag onto a pile and turned his back on them.

"Do you not know who you are speaking to?" Rosalind demanded imperiously.

"As I said, I take orders from none but the earl."

Rosalind went to speak up again, but Kitty held her back. She cleared her throat. "I may not be expected at the castle, but I will be welcomed there nonetheless."

"Is that so?" He turned to face her and instead of flinching beneath his condescension, she stood taller. Her dress may be unfamiliar and uncomfortable, but it was exquisitely cut from the finest cloth. She would not be cowed by a boatman.

She raised her eyes coolly to his. "I bring news of my uncle, the Duke of Answick."

The boatman blanched and Kitty channelled as much steely hauteur into her gaze as she could find.

"Very good, my lady," he acquiesced. "I'll take you now."

The boatman hauled the rowing boat down to the shallows, holding her gloved hand while she stepped inside and lowered herself carefully to a wooden bench. Now that this hurdle had been overcome, her stomach clenched with nerves for the ordeal still ahead.

She must face Guy and find a way to make him understand.

The boat rocked as the man clambered in and took up the oars.

"Goodbye, Kitty. Good luck." Rosalind stood on the shingled beach and waved her white handkerchief, the afternoon sun casting a golden halo around her.

Kitty waved back, wishing her sister could be beside her for this, the most frightening leg of her journey. But deep down, she knew this was something she must do alone.

The oars splashed rhythmically across the tranquil sea, sending a fine shower of spray into the air and taking Kitty back to her time at Rossfarne Castle, when the tang of sea salt was forever on her lips. The boat turned into the cove and she twisted her hands together at the sight of the beach where she had surrendered herself to Guy.

When she'd known heights of pleasure she'd never dreamed of. When she'd willingly given him all she had.

She lowered her head as tears threatened once more. But this was no time to weep. This was her chance to put things right.

She gripped the smooth sides of the boat as they scraped through the shallows. The boatman jumped out and hauled it further up the beach. Kitty rose to her feet, knees trembling, and allowed him to help her down.

"Would you like me to wait, my lady?"

She bit her lip, flooded with indecision. "Yes please."

He nodded sharply and set about securing the boat. Kitty took a deep breath, lifted her skirts and walked as gracefully as she could towards the gatehouse. Despite her fears, it felt like coming home. The jutting outline of the castle, once formidable, now seemed familiar and welcoming. A slight breeze ran over her skin like a caress. Confidence flowered inside her. She had come this far, maybe success was within her reach.

The marshal must have spied their arrival, for he was waiting for her outside the gatehouse. She lowered her skirts as she reached the stony path and reminded herself to stay calm.

He nodded a greeting. "How can I help you, my lady?"

The beautiful dress was as effective a disguise as her servant's attire. If the marshal recognised her, he didn't show it.

Kitty raised her chin. "Miss Katherine Alden, to see the Earl of Rossfarne."

The marshal pursed his lips. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, not today."

She folded her hands together to stop them shaking. "How so?"

"The earl has returned to the service of the king. He left this morning. I'm sorry to say, you've had a wasted journey."

His words sank through her like a stone. She was too late. Hot tears formed at the corners of her eyes and this time, she made no attempt to blink them away. It mattered not if she appeared like a composed lady or a dishevelled serving maid. The man she loved was not here.

He'd left, thinking her a thief. And now she would never get a chance to put things right.