Page 143 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘Of course,’ she said.

*

She had gone to see Miss Thornton to tell her in person, feeling she owed her nothing less, after the trouble she had taken to get her the post at Allely’s. She had expected another inquisition about her choice, but Miss Thornton had been very pleasant about it.

‘I’m not entirely surprised,’ she said. ‘You would have made a good teacher, but there are other paths you can take. With money, you can do a great deal of good.’

‘That’s what I was hoping,’ Nina said.

‘You might found a school of your own,’ said Miss Thornton. ‘It’s much more satisfying than merely teaching in someone else’s. If you ever do, come and see me. I can give you lots of good advice.’

‘Thank you. I might do that. And thank you for being so understanding.’

‘You were always a favourite pupil of mine,’ Miss Thornton said. ‘I think you have remarkable abilities. But more than that,’ she smiled suddenly, ‘I always just liked you. You’d be surprised how rare that is.’

After parting from Nina, Kitty took a cab. But she didn’t want to go straight home. She felt restless, her mind full of swirling thoughts, her stomach full of swirling acids. The food at the Castle was poisoning her, she thought. Now she couldn’t even eat the lovely luncheon at the Savoy without suffering! She wondered if she might be actually ill. Nina had said she looked well, but she felt as though something was going on inside her that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was making her nervous.

Halfway to the station she rapped on the roof, and when the cabbie opened the hatch she said, ‘I’ve changed my mind. Bruton Street, please.’

‘Yes, miss,’ he said. It ought to be ‘ma’am’, Kitty thought. Do I still look like a miss? But what would a miss be doing in a cab on her own?

Luckily, Grandmère was alone – or, at least, she had only Sir Thomas with her, taking tea and chatting. She waved Kitty to a chair, rang for another cup and continued talking to Sir Thomas about music, a conversation Kitty couldn’t have joined in if she’d wanted to. Sir Thomas balanced his cup and saucer on his plump knee, and made expansive gestures with his other hand, his little beard jerking up and down as he talked. Kitty began to feel quite sleepy. And then suddenly he was on his feet, bowed over Kitty’s hand and said, ‘Two Lady Staintons in one room: what a lucky chap I am!’ and was gone.

Grandmère got up, took the untouched tea from Kitty’s hand and put it on the table, saying, ‘Eh bien, what is the matter? And do not,’ she added, as Kitty opened her mouth, ‘waste my time by saying “nothing”. You came here.’

‘I didn’t know who else I could talk to,’ Kitty began, but didn’t go on.

Grandmère saw she needed to be led up to the fence. ‘What are you doing in Town? Did you come up to shop?’

‘No, to see Nina – my friend, who was my bridesmaid. She’s getting married.’

‘Yes, I have heard. Richard told me. Sensible girl, a good choice.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘Bien sûr, she is doing just as she ought, securing an establishment for herself. Do you tell me you have become upset because of this?’

‘No, it’s not that. Of course not. She says she’s happy so I believe her. It did shake me up rather, but I’ve been feeling – well – rather odd lately anyway. I think I might be ill.’

Grandmère raised an eyebrow. ‘So you come to ask me about it, though I am not a doctor? But I understand. Doctors are fools and brutes. What is wrong with you?’

‘I feel – funny.’

Grandmère clicked her tongue. ‘You must give me more than that.’

‘Well, I’ve been sick a few times at the Castle, but it can’t only be the Castle food because I’ve just eaten at the Savoy and that’s making me feel ill too. And when I get up from a chair I get dizzy sometimes. And—’ She stopped, and a slow, rich blush spread up from her neck.

‘Speak out,’ Grandmère said impatiently. ‘I am very old. Nothing shocks me.’

‘Well, I haven’t – I mean, you know how one, from time to time …’ She pulled herself together. ‘I haven’t needed my doily belt for ages,’ she blurted out, and then had to look away. How could she have mentioned such a thing to a dowager countess? The humiliation!

Grandmère suppressed a smile. ‘How long ago did you last need it?’ she asked briskly.

Kitty, still hiding her face, said, ‘In Italy. On our honeymoon. In August. Not since then. I heard one of the maids talk about someone dying of a blockage inside. Is that it? Am I – going to die?’

‘Alors, you are not ill. It is as I thought when you came into the room – one gets an instinct for it. You are enceinte, child. You are going to have a baby.’

Kitty looked up, the colour draining away. ‘A baby?’ she said, in a whisper of a voice.