Recollections of Rosings (32 page)

    He stood up, shaking his head, as if in disbelief. "I would never have guessed; you did not question or reprimand me when we met. Were you not outraged, as you had every right to be?" he asked, amazed at her admission.

    "Should I be?" she asked. "Surely my outrage would depend upon your reason for taking the picture in the first place, would it not?"

    He looked very miserable indeed, conscious of his own culpability and unable to make any plausible defence of his actions.

    "I fear I have no excuses to offer. When I first saw the drawings, I thought they were charming. I wanted very much to have a picture of you but did not dare ask your permission—"

    "Why ever not?" she asked, interrupting him.

    "Because I was afraid, not just that you would refuse me but because it might have led you to accuse me of disrespect and withdraw your friendship, which I have cherished these many months."

    Catherine's voice was a little gentler; she could see his discomfiture and had no desire to torment him. "Why should I have done such a thing? Surely, you know how much I have appreciated your advice and assistance? Why would I be so outraged by such a request as to withdraw my friendship simply because of a picture? Did you think I valued our association so little?"

    Frank Burnett was astonished at the coolness of her response. He had expected her to be affronted, at the very least, sufficiently annoyed to demand some explanation for what might be considered a most high-handed and impertinent action on his part. To have secretly taken a drawing of herself, had it framed, and then displayed it in his rooms could well be cause for a lady's indignation. He would not have blamed her.

    Catherine's calmness also worried him somewhat. Did it, he wondered, signify indifference? He wanted an opportunity to explain, perhaps even to admit the true reason for his conduct, but she gave him none. When, soon afterwards, she put her shoes back on and rose to leave, he tried once more to apologise, but she was ahead of him again. Speaking quite casually, as if nothing untoward had occurred, she said, "Jonathan Bingley is unable to dine with us tonight—he is expected at the Wilsons in Standish Park and has already left, but Caroline will be there. She leaves for Derbyshire tomorrow. Would you care to join us? I think we deserve a celebration, do you not agree?"

    He did agree and accepted with pleasure. Her graciousness should have pleased him, but it did not; for he assumed that it signalled only her indifference to him. She was neither outraged by his conduct nor did she mean to avoid him in future. Clearly, he thought, she intended to continue as before—dealing with him as a useful employee of the Rosings Trust—no more—and he had only himself to blame. It was a wretched situation indeed.

    When Catherine had left with the borrowed umbrella, he returned to his room and, sitting at his desk with her picture before him, put his head in his hands. It was of no use to pretend; he knew now that he had to tell her of his true feelings and hope for her understanding and perhaps her forgiveness; he dared not hope she would reciprocate them.

    It was therefore with a very great deal of trepidation that Mr Burnett made his way to the Dower House later that day.

    The evening, following the afternoon's thunderstorm, was soft, with fresh scents in the air and a clear sky above. As he approached the house, he met Mr Adams who was just leaving. They greeted one another and stopped to exchange a few words.

    He had just left Lilian at home, he said; they had been into town all afternoon to look at wedding rings and other gifts and she was tired and wished to retire early.

    "I have some work to complete as well, so although I was invited to stay to dinner, I have most reluctantly declined," he explained.

    For some unaccountable reason, this information pleased Mr Burnett a great deal. Much as he liked John Adams and Lilian, it would be good to enjoy an evening at the Dower House free of their company, he thought.

    Caroline Fitzwilliam was in the parlour when Frank Burnett arrived at the house. He had heard a great deal about her remarkable life and indefatigable zest for work, but had been surprised on meeting her to find she was still a very handsome woman of remarkably youthful appearance.

    In earlier years, when the Colonel and his young wife had been regular and welcome visitors to Rosings, he had heard of their great love story and the amazing way in which Caroline had thrown her energy and enthusiasm behind the causes that had drawn her husband into politics.

    Lady Catherine may not always have agreed with her nephew's wife, but Mr Burnett had heard her say of Caroline, "She is the most determined young woman I have met; she has been the making of my nephew, who used to be a rather indecisive young man. He is a most fortunate fellow to have found her."

    Frank Burnett could see Caroline had not changed in the intervening years.

    Caroline greeted him graciously and, having invited him to help himself to a glass of wine, had informed him that Lilian was too tired after a day in town to join them and Catherine would be a little late coming down to dinner.

    "She had been caught in a heavy shower this afternoon and reached home quite sodden. I have instructed her maid to prepare a warm bath with camomile and lavender and let her rest awhile afterwards, so as to avoid catching a chill. So I am afraid you will have to put up with me for a while," she said.

    Mr Burnett indicated politely and quite sincerely that he would have no difficulty doing so, he was confident they would have much to discuss as they waited for Mrs Harrison to join them.

    "Indeed we do, because I dare say you are eager to hear what took place at the meeting of the Trust?"

    This indicated to him quite clearly that Catherine had not spoken to Mrs Fitzwilliam of their encounter at Rosings that afternoon. Relieved, he agreed immediately.

    "Yes, I most certainly am. I assume the matter of the school has been settled satisfactorily?" he asked.

    "It has indeed, thanks to the foresight of Jonathan Bingley and Catherine's absolute determination," said she and proceeded to give him a most entertaining and colourful commentary upon the events of the meeting.

    "You should have seen Rose Gardiner's face when Jonathan produced the message from Sir James, her father, sent by telegraph, urging her to vote as she saw fit to settle the matter once and for all. Consternation all round!"

    She laughed, clearly enjoying the discomfiture of her sister-in-law, in whom Caroline had been very disappointed.

    "Truly, Mr Burnett, Rose is married to my youngest brother, Robert, but I can find no sympathy in my heart for her position. She and my brother have followed for many years a life of selfishness and shameful disregard for the interest of anyone but themselves. Now my brother Dr Richard Gardiner is quite different—the very opposite, in fact. I don't suppose you have met him?" she asked and Mr Burnett admitted he had not had the pleasure recently, but when he worked at Rosings many years ago, he recalled meeting Richard Gardiner and Cassy Darcy when they were engaged.

    "I recall that they were a most handsome couple. I understand that he has since acquired a great reputation as a physician."

    "He certainly has," said Caroline, who was justly proud of her distinguished brother. "He is Sir Richard Gardiner now. There is no greater contrast with the self-seeking ways of Robert and Rose than the lives of Richard and Cassy. It pains me greatly, Mr Burnett, to see how my young brother has strayed from the sound principles and generosity of our parents. My dear father was benevolent and charitable, and Mama—her kindness was at the heart of all her dealings with people, no matter who they were. Yet Robert seems to have turned his back on all of that. I have to say I mostly blame his wife and his mother-in-law Lady Fitzwilliam for the change in him. Although Mr Darcy is inclined to say that Robert must also accept some responsibility for it, and I daresay he is right, too. I am afraid I lay most of the blame on the two women."

    At this moment, the door opened and Catherine entered the room.

    Frank Burnett rose, noting how different was this elegantly dressed lady to the wet and windswept person of that afternoon. She held out her hand and he bowed politely over it.

    "I am truly sorry, Mr Burnett, but I was tempted into indulging myself and taking my time, because I knew Caroline would keep you company."

    "Indeed she has, Mrs Fitzwilliam has been telling me all about the meeting and how Mrs Gardiner was eventually vanquished. You must be very happy with the result," he said and Catherine knew from his remark that she need not have been anxious at all; clearly, he had said nothing to Caroline of their earlier meeting at Rosings that afternoon.

    That they had both followed the path of discretion must signify something. She was able to smile and say with sincerity, "Happy? Oh yes, and very relieved. If we had not been permitted to proceed, all our plans and all that work would have been in vain and the girls of the parish would have faced another bleak year without any teaching at all."

    He was amazed at her energy and interest. It was as though she had, with the approval for her school, received a burst of vitality; she absolutely glowed with enthusiasm for the project, which he knew was bound to be an arduous task.

    "I hope I can count on your advice, Mr Burnett; Mr Adams has already promised to help and so will Lilian, but they are certain to be very busy with wedding plans until October," she said.

    He agreed at once and said she could call on him whenever she required his assistance.

    "My work at Rosings continues, but is far less demanding now, since I have completed the inventory of items that have been saved from the fire. It is now more a matter of supervising the demolition of the West Wing and the preservation of what remains," he said as they went in to dinner.

    Her gratitude, expressed with a charming smile, cheered him up considerably.

    The dinner, though no less delectable, was more informal than usual. Since there were only the three of them, Caroline was invited to occupy the seat at the head of the table, while Catherine and Mr Burnett sat facing one another on either side of her. Throughout the meal, he was acutely conscious of her presence, and she could not avoid meeting his eyes as he looked across at her. Both sent their compliments to the cook on the excellent meal, upon which neither had been able to concentrate.

    When they returned together to the parlour for coffee and sweets, Caroline confessed to being weary after her busy day and retired to the chaise longue by the fire, content to let Catherine and Mr Burnett continue their conversation without her active participation.

    "Do chat away, I shall listen. I've done my share of talking for today," she said.

    Mr Burnett, being conscious of the lateness of the hour, did not stay long. However, before leaving, he begged to be allowed to return on the morrow.

    Speaking urgently but in a low voice, so as not to be overheard, he asked, "Mrs Harrison, I must see you privately, so I may explain my conduct. I am so mortified at having done what I did, I must ask you to grant me a little time to redeem myself. Would you be so kind?"

    Catherine knew she could not refuse. Besides, she wanted very much to discover what more he wished to say. Having apologised twice, she wondered what further explanation he wished to provide.

    When she responded, it was with kindness. "Mr Burnett, of course you may see me. Lilian and Sally are taking Caroline to meet the train tomorrow; they leave at ten, will that suit?"

    He indicated that it would and thanked her.

    She then added, "But let me assure you there is no need for you to feel any mortification or embarrassment on my account; I am not offended, quite the contrary, in fact."

    Before he could respond to this surprising statement, Caroline, who had dozed off in front of the fire, awoke suddenly and standing up, addressed the room.

    "My goodness, it must be very late. I do believe I fell fast asleep. Cathy my dear, I think I shall go to bed, I have a long journey tomorrow," she said and turned to kiss her hostess and wish Mr Burnett good night.

    "I trust we shall meet again, Mr Burnett, when we all return for Lilian's wedding."

    "Indeed, ma'am," he replied cheerfully, "when I shall have the honour of being Mr Adams's best man." Taking her hand and bowing over it, he expressed his great pleasure at having met her.

    After she had left the room, he prepared to take his leave of Catherine.

    It was a still, cool night with not a trace of the earlier thunderstorm. As he moved into the vestibule, Catherine produced his umbrella. "You must not forget this, I was most grateful for its protection; you may need it tomorrow."

    The remark and the recollection of the circumstances in which she had borrowed his umbrella lightened the atmosphere between them and they laughed together. Then he said good night, kissed her hand, and left.

    It was late and the house was quiet.

    Catherine waited but a few minutes before following Caroline upstairs. Proceeding to her own room, she undressed slowly and deliberately, putting away her clothes with meticulous care. Her mind was absorbed not by the success of the day but by her memory of the face of Frank Burnett as they had parted and her own feelings as he had kissed her hand.