Page 117 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The new walled garden was finished and planted, and Kitty was deep in plans with Peason for the succession-houses; and early ideas for the pleasure-gardens on the other side of the house.

The news that Lady Stainton was on the way back jerked her out of her happy reverie. She had changed things in the house! She was so nervous with guilt that when the dowager finally arrived, she was positive she was examining everything with a furious eye, and would at any minute explode and demand to know what Kitty had been thinking.

In fact, Maud paid little attention to her surroundings, and did not notice that Ashmore Castle was looking unusually clean and polished. Kitty had not dared to touch the dowager’s room, apart from having it cleaned as usual, so nothing had been moved or altered, and the carpet and drapes were the same worn and faded ones she had left behind. She didn’t notice those, either, only felt vaguely glad to be back at home and out of the public eye.

Miss Taylor noticed, of course. Her gimlet eye took in every detail: the repaired rail on the great staircase, the newly painted walls above the panelling of the great hall, where decades of woodsmoke had been vanquished by cream distemper, the soft lustre and lavender smell of polished wood, the newly discernable colours of cleaned carpets. She noticed, but said nothing, calculating what and when to communicate to her mistress, how to turn the situation to her own account. When she went downstairs, she noticed Moss’s vague and woolly mien, and wondered if his drinking had got worse. She noticed the new cockiness of Hook, and the increase of daftness in William, and wondered if there was a connection. But she held her tongue.

‘You’ve been away a long time, Miss Taylor,’ Mrs Webster observed, as she brought down an armful of linen to be washed. ‘Eight months, I make it – apart from the short visit when the baby was born. You’ll notice changes, I dare say.’

She meant changes in the baby, and she was only making polite conversation. But Miss Taylor said, ‘Yes, I can see that while the cat was away, the mice had a fine old time playing. And I suppose you didn’t exert yourself to stop them.’

Mrs Webster raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you referring to her ladyship as a cat, Miss Taylor? I don’t think that’s proper language from someone of your station.’

Miss Taylor was unmoved. ‘You may think the sceptre has passed, but you’ll find yourself thinking again. And I know perfectly well that it doesn’t stop at a lick of paint and a tin of polish. I saw the look on her young ladyship’s face. We shall see what her ladyship thinks when she finds out.’

Miss Taylor was hoping that something had been done that would exasperate the dowager sufficiently to drive Kitty back into her shell. She would never have admitted it to anyone, but she was apprehensive. If the young ladyship did grow up and take over the house, what would happen to Miss Taylor’s mistress, and by extension to her? The horrid spectre of the Dower House beckoned – and the even worse fate of seeing the dowager drop out of society and Miss Taylor become personal maid to an old lady who never went anywhere or saw anyone. She had no confidence that retirement from the world would sweeten the dowager’s temper. Maud Stainton would be a sour old lady if ever there was one.

* * *

While Rose and Hatto between them unpacked Rachel’s luggage, she grabbed Alice and towed her to the schoolroom for an exchange of news.

‘I’m glad to see nothing’s been changed in here,’ Rachel said, looking around eagerly. ‘And it still smells the same. Looks smaller, somehow.’

‘That’s because you’re taller,’ said Alice.

‘Am I really?’ Rachel was pleased. ‘You haven’t changed a bit, dear old Alice. Come and sit in the window-seat. I’ve so much to tell you!’

Alice obeyed. The fire hadn’t been lit today, but it was still warm outside, and the sun was only just off the window. She noted how Rachel sat, smoothing her skirts under her and arranging her hands and feet just so. She was definitely a young lady now. Alice felt a stab of loneliness. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she said, only half humorously, ‘you’re in love.’

‘Oh, no, not yet,’ Rachel said. ‘I’m having too much fun to settle for one person. Mama said – and I agree with her – that we shouldn’t even consider any offer until I’ve had my London debut. I am out, to all intents and purposes, but the London market is so much greater, and just having a debut there increases your attractions to the best candidates.’

‘Candidates?’ Alice queried.

Rachel looked a little lofty. ‘I am the pursued, they are the pursuers. That’s how it ought to be. I am an earl’s daughter from one of England’s oldest families. They make their applications, and I choose between them. Or Mama does.’

‘But what about dowry? Doesn’t that count?’

For an instant Rachel looked uncomfortable. ‘I shall have a dowry,’ she said. ‘Giles will provide one. We don’t know how much it will be, that’s all. But Mama says even without a penny, I’d be a catch—’

‘I bet Mama never said anything so vulgar as “catch”!’

‘Well, that’s what she means. However much my dowry turns out to be, I’m a most desirable match.’

She seemed to want reassurance, so Alice patted her hand. ‘You’re so beautiful, you’re bound to be. How were things in Scotland?’

‘Oh, such fun! I thought it might be dull after Germany and the South of France and the Isle of Wight – oh, did I tell you, darling, that I was presented to the King and Queen there and the Kaiser?’

‘You did, in your letters. You said the King smelt nice and the Queen was beautiful and the Kaiser was a funny little man.’

Rachel put her hands to her cheeks. ‘Never show those letters to anyone! It sounds so childish. The Kaiser is a bit strange, but he’s very good-looking, with lovely blue eyes. But even when he tries to be jolly, there’s a sort of air about him – as if he might suddenly bite you. We had lovely dinners in Cowes, and lots of dancing. Trips that were the greatest fun. And fireworks on the last night – they look so gorgeous when they go off over the sea. You can see all the colours reflected in the water.’

‘What made Scotland nice, after all that?’

‘Not having to be on show all the time. Chatting with the cousins and going for walks and playing silly games. But after the first week, Uncle Stuffy thought we would all be bored and started accepting invitations, so we were going to dinners and having people over in return. And every evening seemed to end in dancing, but not dancing like in Cowes. Scottish country dancing – such a romp!’

‘You enjoyed it?’