Читать книгу The Scandalous Love of a Duke - Jane Lark - Страница 7

Standing on the lea beside Westminster Abbey, Katherine watched as the procession neared.

The coffin was displayed in a black hearse pulled by six jet horses, with black dyed ostrich feathers bobbing on their heads as they trotted with high, precise, perfect steps. Their manes and tails were plaited and tied with black ribbon.

Gripping her reticule with both hands and holding it more tightly, Katherine took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding.

As the hearse drew to a halt, she lifted to her toes to see over the gathered crowd. She would swear half of London was in attendance to view the pomp and ceremony of the old Duke of Pembroke’s funeral. All she could see of John, as he climbed from his open carriage behind the hearse, was his head and shoulders.

Her heart ached.

She watched him move alongside his uncles to release and lift the coffin.

A rush of pain and longing spilled from her heart into her limbs. It was so long since she’d seen him but her reaction was the same as it had been more than half a dozen years before. The rhythm of her heart rang like a hammer against her ribs.

Her brother, Phillip, gripped her elbow, to stop her being knocked off balance by the crowd. He could have gone into the Abbey, but women were not to attend funerals and he’d promised to stay with her.

Katherine’s heart continued to thump hard as John and his uncle’s passed them.

The crowd swelled then as people moved in a crush to enter the Abbey and stand at the back.

Katherine waited outside with Phillip, her heart racing, so very aware of the chasm which stood between her and John. Yet she’d snatched at the chance to see him when Phillip had said he was going to come to the funeral. She’d read of the old Duke’s death and John’s return in the paper only days ago and she could hardly believe John had finally come back. She was still hopelessly in love with him, or rather with her dreams of him. She could hardly claim to know him now. She hadn’t seen him in years.

When his family filed back out of the Abbey, John was at the front and she could see his face as many of the crowd were still inside. He looked different. He’d matured. He’d travelled the world and seen things she would never see, experienced things she could never imagine. She was an inane, provincial nobody compared to him.

She felt as though she stood in a tragedy, and she mourned. But it was not for the loss of the former Duke, it was for the loss of any hope. Her feelings would never be reciprocated. She would never have John. It had just been a childish dream she couldn’t shake off. She had always known who he was – and what he was.

He walked past them. Though there were three or four people standing in front of her, she still had a clear view.

He looked unbearably, breathtakingly handsome, with his pitch-black hair and pale crystalline gaze, and there was strength in his sculpted features which drew the eye. Behind her, a dozen female whispers concurred with her view.

Katherine dropped her head and hid beneath the brim of her bonnet when John’s gaze passed across the crowd. Not that he would remember her, or even care that she was here.

Phillip gripped her arm.

He thought she’d come because John had been a close friend for a number of years and she wished to support him. It was why Phillip was here.

She’d come only to put flesh back on the bones of her foolish dreams.

It had been ludicrous of Phillip to think John needed their support. John was surrounded by people of his own class.

We are fools, the pair of us, harping back to a relationship that no longer exists. This was not the boy, nor the young man, who’d treated her as an equal. This man was an entirely different beast, influential, dominant and superior. Way beyond her.

She glanced at Phillip. He was watching John’s progress with a slight smile on his face as if he thought John might acknowledge them and smile too.

Katherine had no expectation.

She looked at John again. He was climbing back up into his carriage, lithe and athletic.

Oh God, I love him, I cannot help it. I just do.

She’d hoped to end her silly infatuation by coming here. She’d hoped she would feel nothing when she saw him. But she did, she still did.

When he was seated, he glanced out at the crowd once more, and she sensed a moment of vulnerability in him.

She could not justify the feeling; it was just a sixth sense she could not explain. She longed to hold him and tell him all would be well.

How absurd; he would probably push her away if she attempted it. Why would he choose plain Katherine Spencer to confide in?

Phillip’s fingers squeezed her arm.

“We will go to John’s for a little while, before I run you home.”

She looked up. “Phillip? We cannot. We will not be welcome.”

“We can and we are. We may not be aristocracy but we are gentry. Come, we’ll be mingling with half of the House of Lords. I’m not missing a chance like this. Just think about the tales you’ll be able to tell at your little Sunday school.”

“Phillip, we will be turned away.”

“We will not. John would never throw us out. He’ll remember us and we’ll be welcome, you’ll see.” Phillip smiled.

“We’ll look ridiculous if you are wrong,” she said as she let him lead her on.

Half an hour later, Katherine rose onto her toes to whisper in her brother’s ear, “This is folly.” A second later they crossed the threshold of John’s opulent townhouse.

Her gaze swept the massive hall with its black and white chequered floor and gilded marble pilasters. It was intimidating, and it all belonged to John. It only underscored how many miles he was beyond her reach.

The butler bowed slightly, plainly waiting on their names. He was the gatekeeper and this was the moment of success or failure.

The hall was crowded. Katherine could barely breathe.

“Master Phillip Spencer and Miss Katherine Spencer,” Phillip stated.

The butler’s eyes widened. “Master Spencer?” The stately butler looked hard at Phillip.

Katherine let her breath out. She’d forgotten Phillip had stayed in town at John’s grandfather’s house. This man remembered Phillip.

Oh, she wished she’d paid more attention to John’s life when she was young. She would not have fallen in love if she’d truly realised how different they were. She’d been deceived. She had played with him in the grounds of his grandfather’s estate, as though it was nothing, forgetting all the areas she was excluded from, she had never even been in the house there, only Phillip had been welcome.

“Refreshment is being served in the library, sir.”

“Where is the Duke, Finch?”

“I cannot say for sure, sir. I believe His Grace is in the state drawing room, yet I may be wrong.”

Phillip nodded his thanks, and then his grip on Katherine’s arm steered her on again.

They were absorbed in the crowd of elite society.

“I told you so,” he bent sideways to whisper.

As Phillip looked for John, Katherine felt her hands trembling and her throat dry.

The drawing room was as ostentatious as the hall. The high ceiling had plaques of painted images, scenes of the Greek gods sprawled on clouds and semi-clad. She had never seen anything so beautiful and so opulent.

John should have been easy to spot, he was so tall, but she could not see him. “Where is he?” she asked Phillip, her heart racing at the prospect of actually speaking to John.

“He’s not in here, but the girls are. We’ll wait. He’ll come back this way. You can catch up with Margaret and Eleanor.”

Her heart was pounding a deafening rhythm as Phillip led her across the room towards John’s family.

John’s eldest sister, Mary-Rose, spotted them first. She was dressed in black, as they all were, but with her colouring the black only made her look more beautiful. All John’s family were beautiful. Katherine had never compared.

She pinned a smile on her face. She felt more certain of a welcome from the girls, but she did not wish to appear gauche.

“I cannot believe it!” Mary exclaimed as they neared. “Phillip! Katherine!” Her exclamation drew the attention of the others.

Mary had been a young girl when Katherine had seen her last; she was grown up now.

“I have not seen you for an age,” Mary hugged Katherine.

They had never been friends, Mary had been too young, and yet the younger girl had admired her brother’s playmate and had a desire to join in. Katherine knew Mary had challenged John as a child over why Kate was allowed to play the boys’ games, when Mary was not. But the young woman’s exuberance was open and honest as Mary gripped Phillip’s offered hand.

Of course, again, Katherine had forgotten how much better Phillip had known John. She had been welcomed into their circle for an hour here or there in the grounds of Pembroke Place. Phillip had lived with John in the way of a brother, both at school and during the holidays.

Phillip gallantly kissed the back of Mary’s fingers.

“John will be beside himself to know you have come. I’m sure he never expected to see you. I shall find him.” Lifting to her toes, she looked across the room. “Oh I cannot see him, I’ll go and look.”

“No,” Katherine stated firmly, as she felt a sudden panic. “Please, do not disturb him. I’m sure he has more important people to speak with than us.”

Mary’s pale-blue eyes, the image of John’s, met Katherine’s. “Well, if he has time later I’m sure he will come over and speak.”

Katherine gave Mary a grateful smile and then looked at Eleanor and Margaret, who stepped forward. “You are both married. I saw the announcements. Are you happy?” It was probably an impertinent question but she could think of nothing else to say.

They looked at one another and then their eyes looked beyond Katherine.

“They are together, across the room, there,” Eleanor said, pointing, suddenly a smile in her eyes.

Katherine turned.

“Harry is the blonde-haired gentleman, my dashing heir to an Earl,” Eleanor stated. “Is he not handsome? And Margaret’s husband, George, is the brown-haired man. He is a little older than Harry—”

“But distinguished, don’t you think?” Margaret interjected. “It is lovely to see you.”

When Katherine turned to face Margaret, she was hugged again, but this time with restraint.

Then Eleanor hugged Katherine too, but that was not superficial. “It is wonderful to see you. What do you think of them?” Her fingers gripped Katherine’s arm as Katherine looked back at their husbands.

“They are both exceedingly handsome.”

“We know.” Eleanor laughed. “We’ll introduce you later. Oh I cannot believe you are here. Now tell us what you have been up to?”

“Nothing exciting.”

“She is being modest,” Phillip cut in. “She will not sing her own praises. Kate has set up a Sunday School at home, for the local children who can neither read nor write.”

It was hardly comparable. They would not be interested. These were glamorous women who fitted in here. Katherine did not.

“I always said she was too virtuous. You are a saint, Kate,” Eleanor stated.

Katherine felt her colour rise. “Hardly.” She felt both false and fragile, and tried to hide it.

“Phillip is right,” Margaret smiled. “You should not feel embarrassed to admit good deeds.”

Katherine felt ashamed. She was not what they were portraying her as. “Well, I have good reason to give something back, do I not?” They all, possibly bar Mary, knew of her birth, but perhaps she had raised it a little too bluntly. The conversation dried.

Phillip’s hand rested on Katherine’s waist and the grip gently pulled her closer for a moment, then he let go. Even he did not usually broach the subject.

“I do it because I enjoy it,” she said to clear the air.

“That is true,” Phillip stated. “They adore her, every last one of them.”

The conversation then slipped into questions and answers as they all explored the years of each other’s lives that had been missed.

~

When John entered the state drawing room he felt exhausted. The days since his grandfather’s death had slipped past in a whirl of activity. First there had been the wider family to inform and the state acknowledgements to manage, then the funeral to prepare, and, on top of it, getting to grips with all his grandfather’s business affairs. The mantle of a duke was lying heavy on his shoulders.

He sighed.

Richard had said several times that it would feel normal after a while. John could not imagine it. Even though the house was straining at the seams with people today, he felt as isolated as he had been in Egypt, and incapable of relaxing. That was not due to the responsibility, though. It was just who he was – a buzzard among peacocks.

John doubted any of them had really cared for the old man. He had returned to a world of farce.

A glass of red wine balanced in one hand, the stem dangling between his fingers, he joined another group of guests, fulfilling his duty. He trusted no one here.

God, this was his life now: duty and falsehood. He missed Egypt, he missed adventure and peace and simplicity. He was already bored by people’s endless supplication. Everyone seemed to want something from him. They sought to attach themselves to either his wealth or his power.

His grandfather had warned of this.

John had had enough. He was seeking his family to escape it for a little while, and he was looking for Mary particularly. He knew his vibrant sister would bring him back from the cold darkness crowding in on him.

He’d passed his mother and Edward in the hall, they’d been speaking with Richard and Penny and they’d directed him in here.

His gaze swept about the room then stopped.

There was a young woman standing amidst his family, like a blonde beacon of light amongst his dark-haired black-clad cousins. She was an angel in her pale-mauve dress.

Lust gripped hard and firm in his stomach, an intense physical attraction. He’d never experienced anything so instant before. But it was a long time since he’d bedded a woman – far too long.

Her figure was a sublime balance of curves and narrow waist. Her spine had a beautiful arch as it curved into the point where her dress opened onto a full skirt.

Wheat-blonde hair escaped a dull dove-grey bonnet, caressing her neck and drawing his eyes to a place he’d like to kiss.

She was speaking with animation, her hands moving.

He moved closer, and as if she sensed his gaze, the stranger turned and looked at him. In answer, a lightening need struck his groin; a sharp sudden pain. She was an English rose among orchids, the sort of woman he had seen nothing of abroad. Her skin was pale, with roses blooming in her cheeks, and her eyes were a vivid beautiful blue, like the bluebells which bloomed in spring, in the woods at Pembroke Place.

She was what he had longed for abroad and not even known he’d been lacking.

His attention wholly captured, he felt desire slip into his blood as his groin grew heavy with hunger.

This was what came from abstinence he supposed. He’d never had a fancy for fair, fey women before. He did now.

She did not look the sort for a fling though, certainly not the she-wolf type who stalked the foreign fields. His mind began rattling through his guest list, but no name fit her, and her dull grey bonnet and shawl did not speak of affluence. Who was she?

He smiled as he grew nearer, then realised he was staring and shifted his gaze to the others in the group. It was then he noticed Phillip as they turned to towards him. “My God.”

“Your Grace.”

“Phillip.” Lord, John hoped Phillip had not come here with a motive. John did not wish to hear oily grovelling from an old friend. His heart thumped in cold anger, not gladness. Then he looked at the blonde and his breath caught as recognition whispered in his head. Kate.

Her gaze soaked him up, wide and bright, and then her eyelids fell and red roses coloured her cheeks.

Katherine Spencer, Phillip’s shy little sister, full grown. Good God, she had blossomed. John felt his heartbeat stutter into warm longing again. Wanting Phillip’s little sister was not a good thing.

John gritted his teeth, forced a smile and lifted his hand to shake Phillip’s. He was not looking at Katherine but he was thinking of her, trying to remember how old she would be now. She must be married. Shame.

Or perhaps it was better she was, maybe she had tired of her husband already and she’d be tempted by a little dalliance after all. Better to play with a woman who had no need to be grasping, there would be no ties. “I did not expect to see you here,” John said to Phillip.

“Our condolences, Your Grace.”

John shrugged. Phillip knew the true nature of John’s volatile relationship with his grandfather; there was hardly any point in pretending to be sad. But the word “our” gave John the opportunity to turn to Katherine.

A sharp pain pierced his chest like a stitch when he saw those blue eyes up close. Her turquoise gaze was framed by pale-brown lashes. Her beauty was delicate – subtle. He was unused to that, compared to his family.

He had an urge to touch her face. He did not, but he did take her hand and lift it to his lips as she dropped a low curtsy.

Her kid-leather gloves were warm from the heat of her skin beneath.

He brushed a finger across her wrist accidentally and felt her shiver. She smelt of rosewater.

She was blushing deeply when she straightened.

When had he last known a woman who could blush?

“Your Grace.”

“Katherine.” He’d more often called her Kate when they’d been young but Katherine seemed to suit her so much more now. “You look well.” Her husband, whoever he was, was a lucky man. John doubted she was the sort to stray. A pity.

With a gentle tug, she pulled her fingers free of his.

“H… how are you?” she stuttered, her gaze descending to his cravat pin.

“Well enough.” He could not take his eyes off her and it clearly made her feel uncomfortable. “A little dumbfounded by the speed of things, I suppose. I only returned to England a fortnight ago, my grandfather died that night.”

Her gaze lifted momentarily and compassion burned there before it fell away again. “I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

“Don’t be, he was old, he had to die eventually and I doubt he shall be much missed.”

“Hear, hear,” Eleanor stated. “He was a bully, Mama always says so, and John shall make a far better duke.”

“Tell me what you have been up to then,” John asked, only wishing to know if she was wed, but he threw a look at Phillip, extending the question to hide his interest.

“Studying,” Phillip answered. “I’m a qualified barrister now.”

John’s attention turned. He was so well trained to play ducal host it was instinctual. “Congratulations.” He met Phillip’s gaze. This must be Phillip’s reason for attending, to use their old friendship to increase his clientele. Everyone here had a reason. God, I have become a cynic.

“My firm is Boscombe and Parkin.”

And you hope I’ll use them so you’ll progress… Aloud John said, “Parkin? I have heard of them.”

John had been close to Phillip long ago. Their friendship had made life bearable in John’s later childhood and youth, Phillip’s company had been the one concession allowed when John had visited his grandfather. Beyond their friendship, life had been all about learning discipline and developing the mind. “Do you live in town?”

Phillip nodded. “Perhaps we could meet? I’ll give Finch my address.”

John was not inclined to socialise with men who thought to gain something by it. He was tired to the bones of this ingratiating behaviour already and he had a lifetime of it to live. “Perhaps … ” John echoed with no commitment.

“I’d like to hear your travelling tales,” Phillip continued, chatting as though their friendship had not ended seven years before.

“I have thousands but I would not wish to bore you.” John’s gaze strayed to Kate again. “And you Katherine?”

She reddened and opened her mouth as if to reply but said nothing.

John felt like laughing, she looked so unsettled by him. Yet her discomfort gave him hope that his attraction might be reciprocated?

“She’s been busy. Katherine has started a Sunday School in Ashford,” Mary answered for her.

Katherine’s blush deepened.

He was certain it was his presence which was making her colour up so beautifully. “That is noble of you, Katherine. Is there a husband who supports this venture?”

Her cheeks flushed with even brighter colour. Then she said in a low voice, “I am not wed.” Her pitch said the idea was absurd.

John felt a flare light inside him. Hope. But that was ridiculous, what it meant was she was innocent and untouchable. Hands off you villain. He felt like laughing again, at his own arrogant desire.

Playing the gallant, he took her hand once more and pressed another kiss upon it. “More fool the men who have passed you by.”

“She has had numerous offers. She turns them all away,” Phillip interjected, apparently oblivious to John’s flirtation.

John did not think Katherine was so blind. Her eyes held his as he let her hand fall, full of questions.

The girl was a mile beneath his rank. She would know there was nothing serious in it, which meant she was wondering why. “There is nothing wrong with being choosy, Katherine. I commend you.” He smiled, telling her without words she need not fear him.

She smiled suddenly, in reply, and it glimmered in her azure-blue eyes.

“Are you staying in town?” Mary asked.

Katherine’s gaze swung to his sister and John realised he had forgotten the others were even there for a moment.

“No. Phillip brought me into town. And we should be going. Phillip?” She glanced at her brother, who nodded agreement.

“But you have not met Harry and George,” Eleanor cried. “You must meet them … ” In barely a moment all the women were gone, and John was left alone with Phillip.

John felt as though the world had grown colder, but instinctively he filled the quietness with words, setting his glass down on a side table. “How come she is not wed?”

He and Phillip both looked at Katherine.

John could see her awkwardness again.

She was out of place amongst his guests and she felt it. But her self-awareness was refreshing.

It seemed his taste had not only turned to blonde, but timid too. He was interested despite himself, even though he really should not be, yet there was nothing wrong with indulging curiosity.

“The right offer has never come along, or rather the right man, I think. My mother’s patience is wearing thin, and my father wishes her settled, after all there is Jennifer waiting in the wings. I believe Kate does not know what to do with herself. She does not wish to simply take anyone.”

John looked at Phillip. Jennifer was Phillip’s youngest sister. She was six years younger than Katherine. But Katherine was adopted. She was no blood relation to Phillip.

“Katherine is not happy then?” As children, Katherine had invariably seemed insecure, while Jennifer was simply spoilt.

Phillip glanced at John. “The schooling brings her happiness, but I do not think she is content. You knew Kate as well as I did. She has not changed.”

John’s gaze returned to her and he sensed untapped depths trapped within that timid shell. Depths it would be a pleasure exploring.

“There is something I’d hoped to ask you… if we…” Phillip’s pitch had dropped and the tone implied begging.

John felt his body stiffen in denial as he looked across. “Go on, ask me now?” Devil take it, he would have preferred to be proven wrong about Phillip’s intentions. Was there no one in London who did not want something from him?

Phillip turned fully and his gaze ran over John’s expression, showing uncertainty. “This is a bit distasteful to discuss at a funeral…”

John felt himself scowl. “Nevertheless…” His voice was hard and deep. Just have out with it and let’s be done.

“Boscombe did some business for the old Duke a while ago and, well, it was unsuccessful, but the thing is Boscombe was never paid.”

“So you have come here to chase me for it?” John’s voice turned gruff.

“No, no. I decided to come and told Boscombe I would need the time. He asked if I would mention it…”

John swallowed, fighting impatience. What he wished to do was toss his former friend out for this audacity. “Why not simply contact Harvey?” Harvey was the Duke of Pembroke’s man of business, everything was done through him.

“The business did not come from Harvey. It came from Mr Wareham, from Pembroke Place.”

“Wareham?” John’s surprise sounded in his voice. “Why would Wareham … ?” Wareham was the Estate manager at Pembroke Place. “But he should refer everything through Harvey…” And Harvey had managed John’s grandfather’s affairs for decades?

“I thought it strange too. I haven’t a clue. Even more odd is that the job was reclaiming a loan. Boscombe couldn’t get it back. That’s the only reason I agreed to ask you. Anyway, I’m sure you don’t really wish to talk of this today. I’ll send the details to Harvey. He can look at it and advise you.”

“Yes,” John searched Phillip’s gaze for ill-intent but could see nothing false.

“I’ve put you out of sorts by asking.” He had. “I really did not come to ask you that, John, I only came to see you…”

John shrugged, his judgement was still undecided, but the fact that Phillip had read that expression only aggravated further.

Too many people here knew John too well. He really ought to learn his grandfather’s lessons and cease showing any emotion at all. “Let Harvey have the details and your address.”

“Yes,” Phillip held John’s gaze as though he might say more, like making another foolish suggestion they meet, but he did not. “I ought to take Kate home.”

John merely nodded and then Phillip walked away.

John’s eyes returned to Katherine.

She must have felt his gaze as she’d done earlier, because she looked back.

He smiled.

She coloured up, smiling uncertainly, and then looked away.

~

Katherine clung to the edge of Phillip’s curricle with one hand, as her other held the warm rug over her lap while he drove like a madman to get her home before dark.

The first thing he’d said to her after leaving John’s was, “I told you we’d be welcome.” The second was, “And he was pleased to see you”. She’d conceded the first, but she’d made no comment on the second point.

Her heart still hammered.

John had kissed her hand, twice, and she could still feel those kisses burning through her glove. But he had changed. She was certain he’d felt the chasm between them as much as she had, there was no easy camaraderie now. There had been an edge of steel instead, one that warned, do not come too close.

Her heart ached as she remembered his gaze boring into her.

Seven years had not changed her. She was still fool enough to crave a man who could never be hers. She was frail, as her adoptive mother said. It was in Katherine’s blood, inherited from her natural mother. Katherine was flawed, wicked and full of sin. It was true. She had an unnatural need for John.

When they arrived home, Phillip walked about the carriage to help Katherine down with a broad smile.

She accepted his hand and made a decision never to see John again. If she never saw him she could forget this human desire.

Phillip gripped her arm and guided her towards the house.

“If you want to come up to Town, to pay a visit on Eleanor or Margaret, write.”

She shook her head. “I am sure the last thing they would want is for me to actually call. I know they made the offer and their husbands were charming, but it was just politeness, Phillip.”

“You are too self-deprecating, Kate. They meant it.”

She looked up at him, “They were merely being charitable, Phillip. I am happy as I am.”

Phillip’s gaze held hers. “Are you?”

“Yes.” She pulled her arm free from his grip as they reached the door.

“You do not convince me of it, Kate, you hardly ever smile, and I cannot remember the last time I heard you laugh.”

He was speaking out of concern, she knew that, but she had no intention of talking to him about how things stood for her, it would not be fair, and she would never speak to anyone of her redundant feelings for John.

The door opened, “Castle,” Phillip acknowledged the middle-aged butler.

Katherine untied the ribbons of her bonnet as Phillip encouraged her to enter first.

“Phillip! You are back!” Their mother’s voice came from the drawing room, and then she was in the hall, holding her hands out to Phillip. “You must stay for tea.”

“I need to get back to town, Mama.”

Katherine clung on to her bonnet and gloves.

“But, Phillip, I barely see you.”

He gave their mother an understanding smile, and took her hands. “I’ll come on Sunday next, Mama”

All eyes for Phillip, their mother nodded. “I shall look forward to seeing you then.”

“We spoke to John,” Katherine stated, feeling uncomfortable.

Ignoring Katherine, their mother said to Phillip, “Is he in good health?”

“Well enough. Eleanor and Margaret were pleased to see Kate. They have asked her to call.” Phillip was trying to push their mother’s attention to Katherine; it was pointless.

“Well, one can understand why they would be polite.”

Katherine threw Phillip a look to say, see, she agrees. He smiled. Katherine poked out her tongue, without her mother seeing, and then turned to take her bonnet and gloves upstairs.

“I will see you next Sunday, Mama,” Phillip began to take his leave.

“Kate. Phillip.”

Her father.

Her hand on the newel post, Katherine looked back and smiled.

He was standing in the doorway of his study, smiling too, his affection genuine.

“And how does John fare?” he asked of Katherine.

“Like he was born to it,” Katherine quipped, smiling more openly. Her father’s eyes glowed, catching a hold of her humour.

“He’s as rich as Croesus.” Phillip added, “I hardly think we need worry about John.”

Their father nodded, but his posture had stiffened. There was always tension between herself and her mother, and the same between Phillip and their father. They had never been a happy family.

“Phillip!” Jennifer erupted from the drawing room. “You must tell me all about it, you cannot go yet…”

Phillip looked back. “Kate will tell you.” That was the height of insult to Jenny, to be reliant on Katherine for anything. She was spoilt and selfish. But Katherine did not blame her sister. Jenny had been brought up by their mother to exclude Katherine.

Jennifer’s nose tipped up. “I can live without knowing, if you are going to be so mean. Mama, may we go into Maidstone tomorrow…?”

Phillip sighed.

Katherine turned and began climbing the stairs, but Phillip caught her hand and held her back. “Say goodbye before you go up.”

He’d always been protective. It was why she’d had the chance to grow so close to John, because Phillip had taken pity on her in the holidays when he was home, and given her opportunity to escape from their mother and Jenny.

She turned back and hugged him, standing on the first step so that she was taller and her arms more easily reached about his neck.

He hugged her too, as their mother and Jenny looked on with jealousy in their eyes.

He would say goodbye to them also. It was just that they wanted Katherine to have no love. Yet Phillip loved her, and her father did too.

She wondered sometimes if jealousy caused her mother’s hatred, because her father was kinder to Katherine than his wife. But Katherine had never really understood. Why had her mother adopted her, if she didn’t want her?

“If I hear that Eleanor or Margaret have written and you have refused an invitation, be prepared for a scold,” Phillip whispered.

“Scold all you like,” Katherine whispered back, “I’ll still say, no.”

He laughed as he let her go. “I’ll see you soon.”

As she climbed the stairs, he said his other goodbyes, and then, when she reached the landing, she heard the door close. He was gone.

“Katherine, fetch my shawl would you, and my embroidery, they are on the chair in my chamber, oh and fetch Jennifer’s shawl also?” It immediately began – the behaviour which set Katherine back in her place. She was little higher than a servant when Phillip was not at home and her father did nothing to prevent it. He hid away and avoided the arguments and bitterness. It was only different when Phillip called because their mother doted on Phillip and did not wish to upset him.

“Yes, Mother,” Katherine called back downstairs.

“And once you have done that Kate, you may help with the tea. You know I prefer it when you make it.”

“Yes, Mother,” she called again.

“And do not get any silly notions in your head about visiting the Pembrokes. You would only shame yourself in that company.”

“Yes, Mother.” I know my place, even if Phillip does not.