A Particular Circumstance (8 page)

The atmosphere now became very uncomfortable. Kitty was too polite to express how bored she was with Andrew Preston’s conversation. Matthew was puzzled at Charlotte’s sulky silence and Andrew Preston, feeling that he had neglected others in his congregation, excused himself and went to greet some of his parishioners.

Hugo sought out his hostess, Mrs Casterton, and her daughter.

He found them seated under an awning erected by Mrs Casterton’s indefatigable servants. Mr Bertram Grayson was with them, lolling at his ease on one of Mrs Casterton’s
delicate
gilded chairs. He noticed that Mr Grayson seemed to be very much approved of by the hostess, and was indeed making himself utterly charming to her. Hugo was used to moving in society, and he recognized the polish of one as experienced in polite circles as Bertram Grayson. His dress was the epitome of modern fashion and his figure, although a trifle portly, was undeniably graceful. His address, though a little pompous, was perfectly sophisticated.

Bertram rose as soon as Hugo approached and greeted him smoothly, as though he were in charge. ‘Ah, Mr Westbury. Well met, sir. May I direct the footman to bring you some refreshment?’  

Hugo noticed Mrs Casterton’s beaming approval of this and glanced at Aurelia. Her rather plain little face was set in a satisfied smile. It was obvious that like her mama she was pleased with the attentions of Bertram Grayson. Mrs Casterton was a widow, he reflected. To have a surrogate husband or son, or indeed any male substitute for family support, must be very gratifying for her. Bertram Grayson was obviously fulfilling that role very satisfactorily.  

Augusta Casterton had been extremely busy in organizing this event. The catering arrangements, the difficult butler in charge of the wine cellar, dear Aurelia’s smart outfit, all the invitations and the replies; all these responsibilities had fallen on Augusta’s shoulders. She was pleased and grateful that, as a widow, without a man about the house, she seemed able to count on Bertram Grayson.

Hugo took in all these observations, while accepting a glass of chilled white wine, and watched as Bertram Grayson bowed before Miss Casterton and her mama, asking if they would care for any refreshments. Aurelia’s heavy expression softened into something more pleasant and her mama
positively
beamed as Mr Grayson snapped his fingers
imperiously
to the footman, glorying in such masterful charge of their comfort and pleasure.

Hugo chose a seat next to Aurelia and set himself the task of being polite and pleasant to her. Not a very obviously attractive chit, he thought to himself, but perhaps he should take the trouble to get to know her. She and her mama were, after all, now his neighbours. He hoped there was more to Miss Casterton than at first appeared. He was amused to observe the charm and gallantry lavished on both mother and daughter by Mr Grayson and after some further polite conversation, he took his leave.

Charlotte and Kitty didn’t linger for very long after the picnic. Pleading their need to help dear Mama with
last-minute
packing, they made their way back to Westbury Hall, accompanied by Matthew. In spite of Mrs Grayson’s warm invitation to him to stay for supper, Matthew was firm in his resolve not to impose on her at such a busy time and left, promising to come round early to help with the move.  

Both Charlotte and Kitty were somewhat reticent about the riding party and answered their mother’s questions briefly and without enthusiasm. Finally, Jane Grayson laughed and said, ‘You seem to have had a dismal time of it in spite of so looking forward to the occasion. What was wrong? I can hardly believe Augusta Casterton penny-pinched on the food and refreshments. The weather was a little cooler this
afternoon
, I suppose. Was it that the company was uncongenial?’  

‘No, of course not,’ Charlotte snapped. ‘And Matthew stayed with us all the time.’  

‘What, then?’  

‘Aurelia Casterton has turned into a real flirt-gill just lately,’ Charlotte complained. ‘And Hugo Westbury was as
unpleasant
as ever….’  

‘And Andrew Preston would not stop talking,’ Kitty chimed in.  

‘Dear, me,’ Mrs Grayson laughed. ‘What a miserable time you had, to be sure. And not even the solace of a good supper. Mrs Palmer has given notice that it will be only a cold
collation
this evening. She will start breakfast very early in the morning so that all the vegetables and victuals will be packed up for the move.’  

The girls were unaccountably subdued and even the
excitement
of moving failed to enthuse them.  

On the next day, however, with their usual youthful exuberance, they were up betimes and waiting, ready and impatient for John Dean to bring round the horses. Jimmy the carter had already loaded their movable pieces of furniture and crates of books and china. He would be making the
journey
to Felbrook Manor as many times as was necessary to remove everything from Westbury Hall. Hugo Westbury was as good as his word and before the furniture had even reached the Hall gates, a small army of domestics, recruited from the village, was moving purposefully up the drive. All were armed with brooms, mops and carpet beaters, ready to clean the Hall in preparation for Sir Benjamin and Hugo Westbury, and Charlotte scowled as she passed them.

Jane Grayson’s childhood home had originally been a working farmhouse and when they reached the gate, the two girls were very surprised to see that there were none of the outbuildings and barns usually associated with animal husbandry.

‘Well, dears,’ Jane said. ‘In the days when transport and communications were unreliable, my grandfather’s
prosperous
estate had provided all the necessities of life. Gradually, however, the estate became less self-sufficient and as roads and waterways improved, luxuries from abroad, like Madeira wine and bohea tea, became essential to ladies and gentlemen of quality. My own parents found that servants were not so easy to keep as they had once been and so the dairy,
brew-house
and bakehouse were done away with even before my dear papa died. Of course, the stables have been kept.’

Charlotte and Kitty could only vaguely remember Felbrook Manor from their own early childhood and they spent the first hour in their new home exploring. The entrance hall led to a gracious panelled and papered staircase and on the right of the hall was a small sitting-room that their mama had designated as Mrs Palmer’s. The library and study were combined and the kitchen had a separate game larder, where game birds could be hung and prepared for the table. Both the dining-room and the drawing-room were very spacious, the dining-room able to seat twenty and the drawing-room with deeply curved cornices around the ceiling, beautifully
decorated
with moulded flowers and swags of plaster foliage. Both the girls were enchanted by the delicate rose-and cream-coloured
carpet, ordered by their mama well in advance of the move. Jane Grayson had also ordered new beds and
various
pieces of fine drawing-room furniture from a reputable cabinet maker in Norwich and these items had already been delivered to their new home.

‘Now come and see your bedrooms, girls. A surprise for you. We are so spacious here and you have your own rooms.’

This was indeed a surprise. They’d never had a room each at the vicarage and the rather gloomy bedrooms at Westbury Hall had been so full of dark antique furniture that Charlotte and Kitty had got the two hired men to move various pieces out of the pleasantest room, to make more space, and they had shared the large four-poster bed.

‘Luxury indeed,’ Charlotte said. ‘Thank you, dearest Mama. It is so thoughtful of you to know what we wanted.’

‘Yes. Thank you, Mama,’ Kitty echoed dutifully, but Charlotte saw the faintest shadow cross her sister’s pleasant, open face and wondered with a pang if Kitty really did want her own room and whether her sister felt quite ready to sleep alone. It wouldn’t be so easy to have their late-night
confidences
or fits of girlish giggles now, she thought.

But Kitty’s expression turned so quickly into smiles of admiration for the delicate new side tables and wash stand that Charlotte thought that perhaps she had imagined it.

The morning passed very quickly with all the unpacking and arranging of the furniture. With Matthew’s help, Mrs Grayson had directed the hanging of the curtains in the main bedchambers before luncheon. This meal was merely a picnic of cold meats and wine in the grand dining-room, but as usual in the Grayson household, it had been enjoyed with much
pleasure
.

Afterwards, Matthew helped Charlotte to unpack the books and arrange them on the library shelves, while Kitty helped her mother to make up the beds.

‘This is such a good job done, Kitty darling,’ Mrs Grayson said. ‘And tonight we shall be so comfortable in our new 
house. Now we have finished for the moment, run down and ask Mrs Palmer if she needs any help with anything.’

Kitty duly ran down, but Mrs Palmer was as always too prideful to admit to needing help with anything, especially from a young lady, who was in her opinion ‘just a young lass’ and not used to hard toil. Easier to do it with Phoebe, she thought, especially as her mistress had engaged another maid to help with the work and she was due to start first thing in the morning. She thanked Kitty very graciously. ‘I shan’t be needin’ yer, Miss Kitty,’ she said. ‘Much better for you to help your ma, wi’ the beds.’

Kitty ran back up the stairs, only to be told by Mrs Grayson that the men had come to help with shifting the furniture and arranging the drawing-room. ‘Perhaps you could look in the butler’s pantry and see that the cutlery and china are safely stowed, my love,’ she said, and with the help of a little stable lad, Kitty had accomplished this in less than an hour. She went over every item of cutlery with Robert’s special cloth and stored them away safely and then sent the lad to help John Dean. It seemed a long time since luncheon and even longer to dinner and Kitty felt sleepy. She settled down on the soft cushions of the window seat to have a little rest. Her eyelids drooped and without being aware of it, Kitty fell asleep, one arm dangling over the edge of the cushions with the silver cloth still clutched in her hand.

She was awoken by a light touch. Matthew had been sent down for another pair of scissors to release the string on a pack of books and finding Kitty asleep, tried to remove the cloth without wakening her, and replace it on the sideboard. She awoke immediately, flushed with sleep and unable at first to remember where she was.

‘Hello,’ Matthew said gently. ‘You are obviously sleeping on the job and that could mean instant dismissal if you are found out.’

She sat up, struggling to regain her composure and smoothed her gown. ‘I … I must have fallen asleep … What 
time is it? Where is Charlotte?’

‘It is after four o’clock. Charlotte is still sorting books. She needs these scissors. We shall soon be finished.’

He stood in front of her, without picking up the scissors, but merely staring down at her as though it were the first time that they’d met. Kitty looked up at him, smiling innocently and meeting his eyes with her clear gaze. ‘I suppose you were up very early,’ he said. He was surprised by the feelings that Kitty had aroused in him when he’d come across her asleep and so vulnerable, like a child, he thought. He was startled by a sudden feeling of wanting to love her and look after her. He turned his thoughts away from these emotions immediately. He had no business feeling like that about Kitty. After all, he was practically betrothed to Charlotte.

‘Mama did not need me and … and the silver and china is all put away now. I must have fallen asleep….’

‘And that is a hanging offence,’ he laughed softly, feeling an overwhelming desire to kiss her.

She immediately joined in with his pretended censure. ‘But please do not give me away, guv. I shall not do it again. Word of honour.’ She stood up, still smiling at him, and Matthew took her hands in his, looking down into her steady grey eyes.

‘Very well. I will not tell. Just this once,’ he said smiling.

She didn’t look away, but met his gaze innocently. He
continued
to hold one of her hands to steady her as she swayed slightly, her face still upturned to his, her lips gently parted. He raised her hand and kissed it, determined that this little
interlude
should stop before it went any further, but he was unable to prevent himself from planting a light kiss on her soft lips, and then he drew back, astounded at what he had done.

‘I think we should go and find Charlotte and your mama,’ he said gently and Kitty turned obediently, although her head was drooping a little. They both went to the library to help Charlotte with the last of the books. Neither of them spoke again until Matthew finally took his leave and went home to Primrose Cottage.

The night wasn’t as comfortable for Kitty as Mrs Grayson had foretold. She couldn’t help thinking of Matthew when he’d found her asleep in the dining-room. She had longed for him to be a little less of a brother and be a little more loving, but it was hopeless. Charlotte was so beautiful and vivacious, he couldn’t help caring for her, she realized that. She turned over restlessly in the brand new comfortable bed and caught her breath on a sob. No! She must not cry. Crying never helped. She loved her sister and wanted her happiness. She wiped the tears from her lashes and tried to go to sleep, comforting herself with the thought that Matthew had wanted to kiss her as much as she had wanted it herself.

Meanwhile, Matthew’s silent preoccupation with his own thoughts had not passed unnoticed by his loving Aunt Lavinia. She had made little progress with any conversation during supper and attributed his silence to tiredness, an
opinion
which was strengthened by his early retirement to bed, without even their usual game of cards.

In spite of his early night, Matthew also slept badly. He had no wish to make Kitty unhappy, she was such a dear, good girl, so innocent and vulnerable. In spite of her appeal for him, he was as good as betrothed to Charlotte and he could hardly tell her that he no longer loved her. Whatever he did or didn’t do, he was bound to hurt someone. He cursed silently, turned over again and tried once more to sleep.