Page 74 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

She drew herself up and said coldly, ‘You do not have the right to say that to me. I listened to you because I know you came from my mother, but I think you had better go now.’

He leaned forward. ‘Chloë, I’m sorry, but I really don’t know why you want to do this. You don’t love him, you don’t want his title – what on earth is the point in courting scandal in this way?’

‘The music!’ she said, suddenly blazing. ‘No, you don’t understand! Music is everything! As an unmarried female I would always be restricted, and he would not be able to give me what I need. As his wife, those barriers disappear. You need not worry about the scandal – Sir Thomas Burton will always be received. A very few strict hostesses might blank him for a time. But it will soon be forgotten.’

‘I don’t think you have any idea how bad it will be,’ he said, in one last despairing attempt to get through.

But she smiled at him. ‘Don’t you understand yet, Richard? I don’t care. If you want to do some good, go back and reassure my mother that everything will be all right. Look after her. I don’t need you to look after me.’

‘You told me not to come back and say I failed,’ Richard began.

Grandmère waved a dismissive hand. ‘You had to tell me. And I knew. The young are so sure of themselves. I hoped, but I knew. Tell me, what is she, this girl? Is it avarice? She does not love him.’

‘Not Sir Thomas the man. But Sir Thomas the musician, the impresario, she does,’ Richard said.

Grandmère stared angrily at the empty air. ‘He came to tell me about it. As if I would be delighted for him. He was happy and excited, like a boy going to the circus. He is in love with her.’ She spoke the last words in tones of disgust.

Richard sought for words to comfort her. ‘I think they are both so determined to advance her career at any cost that they will hardly notice they are the object of scandal.’

She looked at him. ‘Perhaps not. But I shall.’

Molly read his expression. ‘She wouldn’t listen?’

‘I warned you I had no sway with her.’

She bit her lip. ‘It’s not just the scandal, Richard. I can’t bear to think of her tied for life to an old man she does not love. She ought to have a proper marriage, love and companionship, children. I want that for her.’

‘Grandmère says kisses don’t last, music does,’ he said, to comfort her.

She spread out her hands before him. ‘In time they grow stiff and you can no longer play, and then you’re all alone with nothing but the sadness of what you have lost, and what you never had.’

‘You will not be alone as long as I live,’ Richard said, stepping close, and she allowed him to take her in his arms. He held her close and kissed her hair.

After a pause she spoke into his chest. ‘What will your brother think? His name may be connected with the scandal, since Sir Thomas met her through your family.’

‘My brother does not care about anything he has not had to dig up from an old tomb.’

She laughed unwillingly. ‘You say such foolish things. What would I do without you?’

‘I don’t mean you ever to find out,’ he said.

‘You’re looking well, Mr Moss,’ Rose said, as he conducted her into the kitchen at Weldon House. It was empty and clean, the freshly rinsed dishcloths hanging up to dry and the back door open to let in the fresh air, proving the cook, Mrs Grape, was having some time off. Cooks never allowed the kitchen door to stand open, because of flies.

‘I’m feeling well,’ said Moss. ‘It’s almost as if I never had that bit of trouble last year.’ He had been the butler up at the Castle, until a heart attack laid him low. The doctor had said that the job was too onerous for him, and he had been grateful to be taken on by Miss Eddowes as general manservant, though it was a step down. The alternative was the workhouse.

‘And you like it here?’

He hesitated a telling moment. ‘My mistress is a lady, and very kind. But . . .’ He didn’t seem to want to finish.

‘It’s not the Castle?’ she suggested.

He sighed. ‘I never thought I would ever leave there. I’d reached, if you like, the pentacle of my career. How are things?’

‘Oh, much the same. Mrs Webster runs a tight ship. Mr Afton’s p’r’aps a bit less formal than you were.’

‘Informality in a butler is not what I’d ever approve,’ Moss said. ‘A certain standard has to be maintained.’

‘Well, we get along all right,’ she said.