Page 158 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

‘You like it, don’t you? You want to stay?’

‘Yes, I do. But I thought you were still – migratory.’

‘It’s time I settled down, and there’s as good as anywhere. The railway connections are good, it’s a genteel place, and if it’s home to you, it’s home to me. So,’ he looked at her face, hungry for affirmation, ‘what d’you think about that?’

‘It’s the biggest Christmas present I’ve ever had,’ she said, smiling. ‘Better than diamonds. It’s wonderful. To plan a park – who ever gets an opportunity like that?’

‘Aye, we’ll get one of those landscaping fellers in to do the job, but it’ll be how we want it – how you want it.’ His smile grew shy. ‘You’ve given me the best Christmas present a man could have – telling me there’s a baby on the way. This is small beans beside that.’

She saw then that the land was not just meant to please her – it was to tie her down. Not that he had any doubts about her fidelity – just that he couldn’t quite believe his luck. Giving her land to make her house into an estate made it harder for her to wander away.

She felt a tremor of unease. His love was a great responsibility; and it was a great deal to be riding on one small baby, barely established yet in her womb. If anything should happen to it . . . She remembered Kitty telling her that after Louis was born she’d known fear for the first time: babies were so fragile, and the things that could go wrong so multitudinous, she never stopped worrying after that.

A bell sounded below. Send not to know for whom the bell tolls, she thought. But she was glad of the interruption. ‘That’s the breakfast bell,’ she said. ‘We’d better go down.’

‘This is so lovely,’ Nina said.

The children had their presents after breakfast. She was sitting with Kitty and watching the little ones’ happiness and excitement. The tree filled the hall with its wild scent; the fire burned with a smell of good woodland smoke. The dogs followed the children around protectively, swinging their tails, poking their noses into everything and making them giggle.

Kitty said, ‘I look at my boys and I feel so lucky. I wish you could have the same, darling Nina. But it will happen, I know it will. Sometimes it takes time, that’s all.’

‘Oh, I’m sure it will,’ Nina said peacefully.

Kitty glanced at her doubtfully, a question forming in her mind. Nina looked different. But surely if there was something to tell, she would have told it. There would be no reason to keep it a secret.

‘Look at Alice,’ Nina said, ‘sketching us all. What a picture that would make – in oils, over the fireplace. All the colour and sparkle, and all the people.’

Giles was now sitting on the floor by the tree with the boys, inspecting their treasures with them, the dogs leaning against him from either side as if the slightest encouragement would have them climbing on his lap. She thought for a moment of poor Trump. Perhaps she was ready for another dog. Giles seemed to feel her stare, and looked up. Their eyes met, and there was a moment of intense connection. She remembered, like something revealed in a lightning flash, that night together, the intensity of it, the joy. She pushed the memory away. She must not think of it now. And she knew she could not be near him when he found out that she was with child. She had been right to keep the secret. It must be by letter, when she was far away. She owed that to Mr Cowling, and to Kitty. For all their sakes.

Rachel, Richard and Grandmère were sitting together, being part of Alice’s tableau.

‘It’s strange without Mama here,’ Rachel said. ‘And Linda.’

‘And Uncle Sebastian and his wife,’ Richard added.

‘I don’t see why they couldn’t have come,’ Rachel said. ‘His marriage wasn’t so very disgraceful, was it? I mean, it’s not as if he’s anyone important – not an earl or anything.’

‘I do not believe he stayed away from shame,’ Grandmère said. ‘He followed his heart and married exactly who he wanted to. Where is the shame?’

‘There you go, talking about hearts again,’ Richard teased her. ‘I’m wondering if we ought to be calling Dr Arbogast to you. You’re not yourself.’

She didn’t smile. ‘I am not myself. Myself was bound up with certain other – vérités. The world has changed. I must change with it.’

‘Please don’t change too much,’ Richard said. ‘You are one of my verities.’

‘I am too old to be that for you. You must make your own way,’ Grandmère said crossly.

‘Now I know you need to see the doctor. You never admit to being old.’

Grandmère tutted at him, and turned to Rachel, who was not following their practised conversation. ‘And you, Miss, you need to decide what you want, and do it quickly. Life will not wait for you. C’est un fleuve large et puissant qui roule rapidement et cruellement.’

Rachel stared in perplexity, not having caught her grandmother’s rapid French.

‘It will wash you away,’ Grandmère translated for her. ‘What is your intention around this young man?’

‘Which young man?’ Rachel said.

‘Do not pout! You know very well. Your fiancé, who came so far to spend Christmas with you and went away unpleased and unfed. Is it at an end with you?’