Chapter Twenty-One

Judging by the empty plates in front of them, they were just finishing dinner. The wind was battering rain against the windows and Millie was frowning.

‘I was hoping to go for a walk after dinner, but that looks a little unlikely now.' She looked out of the window then turned back to Kate. ‘You could have come with me. The exercise would have done you good. This is inordinately bad weather for July.'

Charles was opposite her, with Philip by his side trying to justify why he should have the last piece of apple pie on the serving dish. Her Aunt was at one end of the table, sighing and chiding her boy to no avail, and Uncle Harry was at the other, discussing something political with Charles. It was a normal family dinner.

Kate couldn't see the Bath chair anywhere and she was comfortably situated on one of the usual dining room chairs, Hector a heavy, snuffling weight on her foot. She had kept her promise to Will, then. Perhaps her leg had fully healed now. That, plus the fact that Millie had just mentioned the fact it was July must mean it had been a few weeks since Will left. He clearly wasn't back yet, or Cat wouldn't have Hector beside her.

Kate knew that, had they gone for a walk, they would have talked about Will and she would have shared her hopes and dreams with Millie. She was just about to suggest they headed out anyway, when Dawson the butler came in with a newspaper.

Dawson bowed to her uncle and murmured a few words to him. Uncle Harry glanced around the table, then leaned over and whispered something to Charles.

Charles blanched and cast a quick glance in her direction.

‘Would you please excuse us?' Uncle Harry addressed them all. Philip looked up at him in surprise. Millie's hand crept over and covered Kate's. She entwined her fingers with Millie's. Charles had turned very pale and she detected a slight tremble in his hands as he laid his napkin down beside his plate. Kate honestly thought she was going to throw up. Hector shifted his weight and sneezed before standing up and leaning against her, protecting Kate — or Cat — in his own way from whatever news Dawson had brought. Kate had an ominous feeling that news was for Cat, otherwise why was she here to experience it?

‘Certainly,' said Aunt Violet. Millie simply nodded dumbly and they all watched her uncle and Charles head out into the hallway, Uncle Harry clutching the newspaper. Charles shut the door carefully behind him.

‘It's not like Charles to abandon a meal,' Philip said with an attempt at humour.

They all stared at him.

‘Stupid boy,' said Millie, bitterly.

‘No, it's all right,' Kate said. ‘He's only trying to make light of it, whatever it is.'

Philip smiled at her. ‘Thank you, Cat.' Nobody else made any comments and they just watched the door, waiting for it to open.

Uncle Harry and Charles were gone for what seemed like an age. Kate had one eye on the clock in the corner of the room, wondering if it would chime and throw her out of this evening so she could remain in blessed ignorance. But of course it didn't. She was here for a reason and she wouldn't be able to leave until she'd found out what it was.

Eventually, the door swung open and Charles walked back into the room, clutching the newspaper. He walked straight over to her and leaned down. Millie squeezed her hand even more tightly. Charles looked at her, his eyes full of something she recognised as sympathy.

‘Cat, there's something I need to tell you. Can you be strong?'

She had to be strong ? What on earth for?

Kate felt the bile rise into her throat. ‘What is it?' She disengaged her hand from Millie's and grasped her brother's in both of hers instead.

‘Cat, my dearest, beloved Cat. It's Will.'

‘ My Will?' Kate said sharply; then corrected herself. ‘I mean, Will the blacksmith?'

‘Oh, Cat,' said Charles. ‘You've made it quite clear. None of us are blind or stupid. Our Uncle doesn't approve at all, as you know very well — but in the spirit of a gentleman's honour, he asked me to tell you this, in the hope it would put an end to it once and for all.' Kate felt herself blush to the roots of her hair and cast a quick glance at Millie.

She dropped her head. ‘I never said anything, Cat, I promise,' she said miserably.

‘I know you didn't.' Funnily enough, Kate did know. ‘Please, Charles. Tell me what's going on.'

‘It's the steamer Will had passage on. It collided out at sea with another ship. He talked about his plans with me and he must have mentioned it to Dawson as well. He recognised the name of the vessel. The SS Victoria .'

Kate felt faint. ‘What of it?' she asked, hardly daring to breathe; although she thought she knew what was coming and began to shake.

‘It sank, Cat. Will went down with it. There are only a handful of survivors.'

Kate stared at Charles, trying to process the information.

She shook her head. ‘No. No I don't believe you. He's not dead. That's not the way it's supposed to happen. He must be amongst the survivors. He's coming back to me. He promised.'

‘I'm afraid not,' said Charles quietly. ‘The survivors were mainly women and children. One or two crew members. Some elderly people. Nobody who matches Will's description. I'm sorry, darling . . .'

Kate pulled her hands away from Charles. Without saying a word, she scraped her chair back, rose and ran out of the room, unheeding of her achy leg. Hector kept to her heel like a little shadow, whining as if he understood every word. The clock had begun to strike before she was in the hallway. As Cat's horrific evening faded into a memory, Kate was thrown back into the present day, still clutching the flower arrangements that she had been asked to put in the dining room. For a moment, the little hazy shape of a boxy-headed mongrel glimmered next to her, then it too vanished.

* * *

There was noise and screaming all around him — chunks of the steamer were scraping and grinding together, splintering apart like a ship-in-a-bottle that had been shaken inside a tornado.

Will ducked as another explosion reverberated around him — the third one. Someone, one of the crew, perhaps, had shouted that there were four boilers — he could only guess that three had blown up. Steam, boiler parts and the remains of bodies surrounded him and floated on the water. What was left of the ship had drifted and was sinking — even now, there were only smokestacks and a part of the deck showing. Before long, that too would have disappeared beneath the churning waves.

He reached out, trying to grab onto something, anything. Trying to gasp for breath, and scrabble for purchase on whatever he could find nearby. His fingertips clutched onto a piece of wood and slipped off. He grabbed again and lost it. He floundered, panicking, as the wreckage floated away from him.

He made one final attempt, and the last thing he saw was Cat, sitting on her horse and laughing down at him with the sunlight sparking off her hair while the final boiler exploded against the sky and the cold waves swallowed him.

* * *

A soft breeze cooled Kate's damp cheek and she realised she'd been crying. She was clutching the poor flowers so tightly that she felt she'd all but throttled them on their stalks.

‘That didn't happen. I can't believe that happened.' An image of Will's smiling face, or it might have been Theo's, drifted into her mind and the tears began again. Poor Cat! She'd never had her happy ever after. She'd lost him, before they'd even begun.

Trembling and sniffing, Kate walked over to the table in the window and unwrapped the newspaper, thinking how bloody ironic it was that she'd walked in here with a newspaper and on one evening, so many years ago, a newspaper in this very room had wrecked a young girl's life. She arranged the flowers mechanically in the new vase that was ready and waiting as promised, and brutally crumpled up the paper, as if it was at fault for bringing such news to Cat.

Trying to anchor herself in reality again, Kate fluffed up the flowers to make them look less like they'd been dumped in the vase by an amateur. They were, she realised, overwhelmingly blue. The colour scheme seemed appropriate, somehow, for a room with a miniature of Millie in it. Hadn't Cassie called her the girl in the blue dress? Kate collected herself and went over to the fireplace, looking at the paintings that were dotted around the wall. There must have been about fifteen of them, from silhouettes to pencil sketches through oils and watercolours and pastels.

For a moment, she despaired. How would she know which one was—

Then she saw her. Set into a silver oval, there was a strawberry-blonde girl, dimpling a smile. She was the epitome of beautiful, confident and happy. Kate envied her a little bit on Cat's behalf. This was her cousin; rich, privileged, undoubtedly adored by everyone she met: Cat's confidante and her best friend.

‘Hello Millie,' Kate whispered. She touched the frame gently, running her fingertips over the discreetly engraved silver. She was exactly as she'd seen her in the visions of Cat's life. The picture wasn't dated, so she didn't know when it had been painted or by whom. She had a feeling it wouldn't have been Cat who had done it — she seemed to be like Kate; a much more practical person with very little artistic talent. She was glad Cat had Millie in her life. Kate imagined she'd been the perfect person for Cat to be with when the news of Will came out.

‘I'll see you soon,' Kate promised the picture. ‘If I don't see you in person, I know you're just here. You're lovely. I do so wish I could know you properly.'

She took one last look at the miniature and her floral arrangement and headed out of the dining room. Next time she was inveigled into assisting Cassie as a room guide, she would specifically request a spot in the dining room, next to the fireplace.

But today, she thought, winding her way back through the whispering corridors, trying to shake off the misery of Cat's bereavement, she had to sell ice-cream and avoid Theo Kent — in no particular order.

* * *

Part of him was desperate to see Kate again, and part of him wanted to hide in the stables, maybe beneath a pile of hay, just to be sure of avoiding her.

It wasn't that Theo regretted what had happened last night — far from it. But they all had real lives to get on with after this weekend and he didn't want to leave a trail of destruction behind him. Come Tuesday, he'd be back in Derbyshire picking up his other life and he didn't know if he would have to consider Poppy in his future or not. It wasn't fair on Kate and he couldn't even plan a life for himself, never mind Kate — although he was desperate to be with her, one way or another.

But Hughie still needed attention and there were plenty of tasks for Theo to be getting on with, so he couldn't second guess himself too much. He'd put himself at the Hall's disposal for the whole weekend, quite deliberately, and there was good reason for doing that. He needed, for example, to tighten the nuts on the wheels of the Gypsy Tea Caravan, because they'd been wobbling a bit towards the end of the day yesterday.

Yes; he had plenty to do — and plenty of things to keep him well away from a certain red-headed ice-cream seller. All he needed was some willpower.

* * *

The morning stretched into the afternoon and Kate was so busy that she barely had any time to think about — not to mention scan the horizon for — horses, and people who looked like they worked with horses. She tried to convince herself she didn't really want to see him at all. And tried very hard to carry that thought through the day.

Cassie checked in at lunchtime again and offered to send Hughie and his caravan down so Kate could have a break.

‘Oh no,' she said, ‘It's fine. I brought my lunch today.' It was a complete fib of course. She just didn't want anyone turning up to check Hughie's hooves, for example, when the horse was stationed at the Spa. She ended up eating a double-sized ice-cream with a fine dollop of clotted cream on the top for lunch, and at least it filled her up.

There was one point where she was forcibly reminded of the picnic from the previous evening though; Delilah herself came over, weaving her way through the noise and bustle, looking cheerful and relaxed and clutching a huge, plastic box.

‘Hello, my lovely!' she said. ‘Trade doing well, is it?'

‘Not too bad, thanks,' Kate replied with a smile. ‘And thank you for the picnic yesterday. It was very kind of you.'

Delilah shrugged. ‘Well, I know how hard you were working and I thought you might need a treat or two. I thought you'd be too busy worrying about your museum with that Jenna in charge — so I went along with the excuse of the picnic just to check things out, so I could report back if I had to, you know. And it was fine. She had the place under control and she still had her clothes on, which was a bonus.' Jenna had once been spotted skinny-dipping in the river with a group of Danish tourists. Delilah's opinion was that if she, Delilah, had a figure like that, she would have been happy to flaunt it bare-naked as well. Regardless, Delilah winked. ‘And then there was that lovely man with the horses. I was sure he would be busy as well, so I thought why not? You can share it all.'

‘The lovely man with the horses,' Kate said wryly. ‘I still don't know where you spotted us or why you thought we were having fun.'

‘I saw you chatting by the Faerie Bridge yesterday. I had a delivery to make then as well.' She raised the empty box. ‘Any excuse to get over to the Hall and make sure the crowds are fed.' Delilah's cake-supply chain worked well for everyone concerned. ‘I'd seen the chap with Horace earlier and you both looked tired and hungry and hot. And as I say, it was a good excuse to visit the museum to check on things.'

‘You look after us well, Delilah.' Delilah and Margaret seemingly looked after everyone — all of the parentless and parentless-by-proxy young adults in the village. Delilah and Margaret, and Elodie's family, in fact, had practically brought Alex and Cassie up, as their mother abandoned them and their father had been adorable but clueless. Elodie had also benefitted from their kindness over the years, especially when she had been struggling with the pregnancy, and her parents were miles away in France. Her new-born twins had never been short of a surrogate Granny or two either. Really, the village was held together by the villagers and Kate loved it there. It was like Cassie said — Hartsford would always draw you back.

A little shiver ran up and down Kate's shoulder blades. Not for the first time, she wondered whether that was the reason she had pitched up here; how the museum was just conveniently ready for a new manager when she was looking to start on the next rung of her career. Perhaps Cat and Kate had more in common than she thought. Perhaps Hartsford Hall had called her back for a purpose — or to finish something that she started years ago. It was an odd feeling.

It was fairly exhausting, trying to avoid Theo. Kate couldn't relax and was on edge all day, wondering if he'd appear for a late-afternoon ice-cream like he'd done yesterday.

But after a successful day of Theo-avoidance, ironically, it was almost with a sense of disappointment that she began packing up with the last of the visitors. Part of her, she had realised by that point, really really wanted to see him.

It was no surprise, therefore, that when she'd rounded the corner towards the service road on her way home, being faced with Theo's black and silver van sent her stomach flip-flopping around her insides like a break-dancer on acid.

Kate stumbled, one foot catching the hem of her trouser leg, and the bicycle lurched to the side.

‘Careful with that,' Theo said, appearing out of nowhere and somehow grabbing both Kate and the bicycle. ‘We don't want any injuries.'

She had a flashback to another stumble, decades ago, on a frozen river — which hadn't ended so prettily. It certainly hadn't ended on a warm summer evening with a strong hand holding her arm, his touch hot through her sleeves.

‘Thanks,' she managed, regaining her balance. He was still holding her arm. She ducked her head, her face flushing.

‘I did well staying out of your way today, didn't I?' She looked up. He was half-smiling. ‘Couldn't have been responsible for my actions. That's all I'm saying.'

‘I sort of tried to avoid you too. But I still wondered where you were,' she replied; which was exactly the sort of thing she had not meant to say when she bumped into him.

He smiled fully then. ‘Really? That's good to know. I was mainly at the stables; they had the brewery horses visiting today so I was kept busy with people asking me questions. I got some free beer for my troubles.' He nodded towards the van. ‘I'm willing to share it. I don't think it'll fit in my ice-box.'

A nice cold beer sounded perfect.

‘If I agree,' she said cautiously, ‘it's almost like it's becoming a habit. You know — post-event parties and such.' She was trying to make light of it, and probably sounded very silly indeed.

‘Some habits are good habits. And some are so bad, they're absolutely worth it.'

Kate laughed; then became a little more serious. She needed to say something before he did.

‘Last night,' she began, ‘the picnic and everything was lovely. But I'm sorry if it got awkward at the end.' Her cheeks burned as she spoke.

‘I didn't think it was awkward. Everything that was said, needed to be said and I'm pleased we . . . well, said it.' There was a pause while he searched her face. ‘And I'm serious about the beer offer. They gave me six bottles.'

‘Three each.' She hadn't meant to say that. She hadn't meant to agree at all.

‘I'm glad you agree.' He removed his hand from her arm. She hadn't realised he was still holding her. ‘So,' he winked, obviously trying to make a joke of it, and her heart joined in with the stomach-flipping. ‘Your place or mine.'

‘Neither,' she replied quickly. Either was a recipe for disaster. Especially if it meant being close to him and that micro-brewery beer was involved. Each of their places had a bed, of sorts, at least. And as much as her resolve was strong at the moment, if she let her guard down and thought about the missed chance that Cat had experienced, goodness only knew what she would be persuaded into.

Theo looked, she thought guiltily, like he could persuade her to do a whole lot of things she wouldn't normally consider. And that was why she decided they had to be somewhere neutral and somewhere in the open air.