Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kate tried to maintain some sort of distance as she walked with Charles. Psychologically, she knew it wasn't her and the words she would say meant nothing to Kate Howard of contemporary Hartsford. She was also aware they would clearly mean a lot to Catriona Aphrodite Tredegar (who would cringe when her full name was read out during the ceremony), but still, part of Kate railed at the process by which Cat was tying herself to Edward for the rest of her life. It had been an unpleasant shock seeing Chris again, even in the guise of Edward, and she really didn't like it.

When she was finally next to her bridegroom, the vicar cleared his throat and began his little speech. The words washed over Kate as she tried to concentrate on the fact that this was Cat's wedding and Cat's decision.

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this Congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony . . . honourable estate . . . mystical union . . . ordained for the procreation of children . . . Therefore, if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace—'

Oh, Will.

* * *

The cooper had barely pulled up outside the lychgate, when Will leapt off and hurtled up the path to the church door. The first thing he was aware of was Hector, lying by a gravestone, his chin on his paws and a blue ribbon around his neck.

The dog looked up as Will approached and leapt to his feet, barking joyfully. He bounded off the patch of flattened grass he'd been guarding, ran towards Will, then streaked ahead of him to the door.

Will was just about to shoulder it open, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye; a bright blue flicker, the colour of the heavens. He couldn't help but look, and he saw her.

The dimpled smile was unmistakeable and she directed that smile right at him. ‘Do hurry up!' was all she said. And then she was gone.

‘I'm doing my best, Millie,' he whispered. Then the door gave under his weight.

* * *

The thought of Will rushed in from nowhere, tearing Kate up inside, as if it had been her own subconscious saying it, and a fleeting image of Theo came into her head. She didn't have time to process it much further though; there was a sound of the door slamming open, a frenzied barking and running footsteps coming into the church, skittering claws echoing around them.

‘I shall speak!'

The voice was loud, confident and not an ounce of deference was shown to anybody in that congregation.

The skittering stopped, and Kate spun around. Will Haddon was standing there, Hector at his heels, staring at her. His dark eyes were drilling into hers, full of pain and anguish and love. ‘I shall speak,' he continued and took two steps forward. ‘They cannot marry.'

‘What the hell ?' That was Edward, and the vicar sucked in his breath in horror.

‘Oh, my word,' muttered Charles, hiding his face in his palms and shaking his head. ‘What a bloody time to turn up. What timing!'

‘Will!' Kate stared at him, and, hitching her skirts up, ran towards him, forgetting Cat was supposed to be marrying the man in the suit at the altar who had tried to grab at her to stop her running off. She tossed her veil over her head so she could see clearly and continued up the aisle — and not in the direction she was supposed to be heading on her wedding day.

‘Cat. My love — my only love.' Will took a few more steps forward and they met in the middle. He held his hands out.

Kate dropped her bouquet on the floor and clasped them, her heart pounding so much she felt faint. ‘You're alive!' She searched his face. It was a little thinner, his eyes darker and more haunted, his hair longer than it had been. He was tanned and looked as if he had been working out of doors. ‘Where on earth were you? All this time?' His hands were calloused, rough against hers, but so warm and so real, she never wanted to let them go again.

He lowered his voice and spoke only to her, his eyes burning into hers. ‘You probably know the steamer I was on sank, but I managed to cling onto some wreckage and got picked up by a fishing boat off the coast of Belgium. It took me ashore, but I had no clue where I was and I took a fever and when I woke up I didn't remember a thing. I had nothing, no identification, no money — nothing. A family took me in and I stayed with them for a while. I worked my debt off to them on their farm, and then managed to pick up some work here and there on my way to France, and eventually, I reached Calais. I had just enough by then for passage back. And then I worked my way up the country to you. I'm sorry. I had no way of contacting you for so long — and then when I could, God alone knows whether the letters reached you.'

Kate shook her head — she didn't know if Cat had received anything or not but seriously doubted it, otherwise why would she have agreed to marry Edward? Unless . . .

She became aware of an uncontrollable sobbing, and looked over at her aunt, who was a sickly, pale colour and pressing her handkerchief to her mouth. ‘Oh, why did you do it? Why ?' she was repeating hysterically.

‘Damn you woman!' That was her uncle, on his feet and almost apoplectic with rage. ‘Can't you keep your mouth shut?' He gestured wildly to Cat. ‘To stop something like this damnable aberration occurring! If she'd had the letter, then she would have been off, and how the hell would we have explained that to her damn parents? Damn and blast it!' He stared across at Cat, then pointed. ‘Don't think it's going to happen. I'll see him laid out before it does—'

‘Please! This is a church!' the vicar had clearly had enough of people blaspheming in there today.

Kate just shook her head, her gaze returning to Will. She knew it was all an empty threat. Her uncle could bluster all he liked, but Will was here. Will was with her. And he hadn't travelled all the way back to be told they couldn't be together. May the vicar forgive her, but she didn't give a damn about being party to such an aberration. In fact, she looked forward to it. she realised with a wicked little shiver of anticipation.

Oh, Will!

‘Were you outside? Just before the ceremony?' She was breathless, her voice trembling with excitement and delight. He was back, and he was standing in the church, holding her hands. Will was back !

Will looked a little perplexed, a frown creasing his dear, dear face. ‘No, my love — I just arrived a few moments ago. I was dropped off by the cooper's cart outside and raced straight in. He told me what was happening. I'm sorry I look so dishevelled. I—' His expression changed and he suddenly looked horrified and embarrassed, all at the same time. ‘Oh, no — tell me I'm not too late. Or please, God, tell me you won't do it now? You won't marry him. Or have I just made the world's biggest fool of myself? Do you still love me, in fact? Have I still got a chance? If not, I'll walk out of here and walk out of your life. I'll—'

‘Shhh. No. Stop it.' Kate stood on tiptoe and kissed him, to a chorus of astonished gasps from the congregation. He responded hungrily, the outpouring of so many months of sadness and longing crystallising in that kiss.

He drew her closer and laid his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. She could feel he was shaking, but he was real and warm and solid — and alive! Cat was the luckiest woman on the planet, she really was. ‘Oh, Cat. How I've missed you.'

‘I thought you were dead! I don't know how I've made it this far without you,' Kate murmured, her own voice breaking. It seemed as if she wasn't even speaking the words; they were coming straight from Cat's consciousness, straight from her heart.

‘Catriona!' Edward's voice was sharp. ‘This is ridiculous.'

His hand came down on her shoulder and she stiffened.

‘No, Edward,' she replied. This time it was all Kate — and maybe she was superimposing her experiences of Chris onto this nineteenth century rake, but whatever it was, she said her piece. ‘What is ridiculous is you being unfaithful before we're even married. It's ridiculous that you think I could ever trust you in marriage or in anything else. You charmed your way back into my life and my affections, and all the time you were secretly seeing another woman. Oh, don't look so surprised — I saw you, Edward. I saw you by the dovecote and I saw everything. I'm really not willing to tie myself to someone like you for life. I need a man I can trust and who will — look after me.' Okay, maybe that bit was for Cat's benefit. It sounded kind of appropriate for a Victorian girl to say.

‘Cat!' Edward was scarlet, apparently holding his temper in, but not very happy to have been called out like that on his wedding day.

‘I don't love you. I thought I did, but you were second best. It's Will I want to marry.' There was a rumble of disbelief from the congregation. It was, quite clearly, out of character for a girl in 1886 to specify such things. But in for a penny, in for a pound. Kate cast a quick glance at Charles. He was sitting on the edge of a pew bent double now. His shoulders were shaking, and she knew on some level he was laughing silently at her. It was probably a laughter born of embarrassment, but she had never been particularly compliant anyway. And neither, it seemed had Cat. Wild and adventurous? Well, what she had done was quite wild and adventurous for a Victorian girl anyway. It was a start; and incredibly liberating, actually.

‘Can we go, Will? Would you take me out of here?'

‘Certainly, my love.' He kissed her again. She leaned down and picked her bouquet up. There was something very special she needed to do with it, before she left this little scenario behind. Will lifted her hand to his and kissed it, and their eyes met. Yet his eyes were so familiar and so very — Theo — that Kate's heart skipped a little beat.

Surprisingly, as they turned their backs on an astonished vicar and a scarlet-faced, shouting bridegroom, a cheer broke out from Cat's cousin and his friends, and Kate couldn't help but dip her head and smile as she walked out of the church on Will's arm. It was probably the best entertainment the young men had had in ages.

Kate looked up at where she had seen the shadow in amongst the yew trees. It flitted into view again as it passed behind a cluster of shrubbery.

For a moment, the shape wavered into focus and she saw Theo — the real Theo of this last weekend, sunburned, dressed in his shorts and an open shirt with a white top beneath it. She blinked and they stared at each other. Her stomach somersaulted as she held onto Will's arm and the church bells began to chime midday.

‘I should probably tell you that I saw Millie,' she heard Will say. ‘She was out here, waiting. She told me to hurry. I'm so sorry.'

Kate had no words. She bit her lip and nodded, and just had time to place her bouquet on Millie's grave, and whisper some private words to her before she pitched back up in her own world, on the path outside the church.

She was alone — no congregation hurrying out after her, no jilted bridegroom. No Will. No wedding bouquet on Millie's grave, which was now weathered and, although still well-tended, very obviously old. The posy of wildflowers she'd left on it seemingly moments ago was nothing but a bright memory of the girl she had once known. The blue flowers next to Kate's posy shone out from the grass. Kate needed nobody to tell her that Tom had left those — but how or why he knew about his connection to Millie was probably not something he would elaborate on any time soon. It was enough for her to know he had grasped it. Hartsford looked after its own; the Hall made sure everyone who mattered understood their place in its history.

Instinctively, Kate looked up at the group of yew trees. Theo Kent was still there, hands in his pocket, dressed exactly the same as she'd seen him just before. Perhaps the ever-present veil had dropped a little in Cat's world for them both; because Theo was looking at her very curiously indeed.

* * *

Kate and Theo were staring at each other as if, Theo thought, they'd each of them seen a ghost. He wasn't sure what he had seen to be honest. It was Kate, but for a moment as she'd stepped out of the shadows of the porch, she'd looked different. Her clothes were different, and she seemed to have been suffused with some sort of light. It made her long, white dress glow and then it just faded into nothingness; and there she was in her denim skirt, her black top, her black leggings and her ankle boots. Her cheeks were still tinged pink from yesterday's sun and her freckles stood out.

‘It's you!' she exclaimed. She took a couple of steps towards him, then pulled herself up short. ‘I mean, I wasn't expecting to see you here.' She dropped her head and mumbled, ‘I thought you'd gone back.'

‘I stayed an extra night. I'm here. I spotted you over there, but I didn't want to disturb you. Listen, Kate—'

‘No! Please Theo. No.'

‘Kate—'

‘No! Look — talk about something else. Talk about the Hall — don't talk about yesterday! Please.'

‘Okay.' He cast around for something, anything to focus on. ‘Something else.' Anything to keep her here, anything to maintain that closeness to her. He nodded towards the grave she'd been standing at. ‘Is it a special one? It looks really old.'

‘She's the one who wrote the verse on the back of that photograph. She died in 1886 — she was only in her early twenties. It's sad really.' Kate looked relieved that he'd changed the subject. ‘She was called Millie. But it says Amelia here. Amelia Violet. I suspect she loved all the different shades of blue and purple. She's the one I think I saw on the bridge. Silly, huh? There'll be crocuses here in the spring, you know. It'll be a pretty spot.'

Theo nodded in agreement, seeing the long leaves that were evidence of those spring flowers. ‘People often didn't last long in those days. It could have been a fever or anything.'

‘A fever.' Kate blushed and for a moment she seemed to be miles away; then she looked back at him, almost searchingly. ‘It was consumption. Poor thing. It can't have been pleasant.'

‘I suspect not.' Theo folded his arms. ‘This chap here, just where I am,' he pointed with his foot to a half-hidden stone, ‘I don't know what finished him off. There's a horseshoe on the top and anchor on the bottom. So it was a horse or a boat — I'm not too sure.'

‘Seriously?' Kate wove her way through some graves and came over to where he was standing. Theo moved to one side so she could see the stone clearly.

‘It's a memorial stone,' she said after a moment. ‘I don't think there's anybody buried here.' She hunkered down and moved some grass and old leaves off the stone, which lay flat in the ground. The words engraved on the top were barely legible, but she leaned in and traced the carvings out with her fingertips, trying to interpret the name.

‘Wm. Haddon,' she said after a moment. ‘B.15thApril 1860, D.5thJuly 1885, victim of the SS Victoria Disaster. Always loved, never forgotten. Heri fuit nostri .'

‘Heri what?'

‘I think it means "yesterday was our time".' She looked up at Theo, and surprisingly she smiled. ‘It's for William, the blacksmith on the estate. They thought he'd died, but he didn't. He came back. You saw his house, remember?'

‘Ah! Yes. I remember it very well.' Theo kneeled down next to her to get a better look at the stone. ‘And I guess if he was supposed to go down in a shipping disaster, that's what the anchor symbolises.'

‘I guess.' She picked at a bit of moss with her nail, then gave up. ‘I need to get permission to tidy this up. It's not right that he should be hidden away here and neglected. I think he's got just as much right to a tidy memorial as anyone — even though his body is probably miles away. I think he wanted to travel and work abroad. Maybe he succeeded, maybe he didn't. But they thought he'd died and it's all part of Hartsford's history anyway. He was in love with Cat, the girl who owned the ice-skates, and he never stopped loving her; and he came back for her, just like he promised. I think he probably deserves something in my museum, you know. Something to go with the story of Cat's ice-skates.'

‘Yes. Of course.' He shivered a little, remembering his experiences there. This was as good a time as any to float one of his crazy suggestions past her, especially if she was considering doing something relating to the blacksmith anyway. ‘I don't suppose anyone has ever considered really rebuilding the furnace, have they? It could help you with the interpretation of the site. Help to tell Will's story. You could have demonstrations.'

‘It's basically a pile of rubble. I don't know who we'd get in with the experience to do it.'

‘What about that Aidan guy from the Hall weekend? The one with the motorbike? I'm sure he would do it, and if not, he would probably know someone who could.'

Kate looked at him, a spark of interest in her eyes. ‘The Aidan who Cassie's falling over herself to spend time with — that Aidan?'

‘Yeah.' Theo shrugged his shoulders. ‘It's a thought anyway. I'd be happy to be a consultant if he needed it.' He stood up and held his hand out to help her up. She hesitated for a moment then took it.

He pulled Kate to her feet and she stumbled. He grabbed her other hand to steady her, and for one bright moment, they caught each other's eyes and the world stopped turning. Theo didn't know whether to drop her hands and step back; or to lean down and kiss her.

He chose the latter.