Page 120 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle

His brows drew down. ‘Don’t be petulant, Kitty,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t suit you.’ And he withdrew, and closed the door.

Kitty was still shy with strangers, and though she was getting used to taking decisions about the house, it seemed like too great a responsibility to be choosing a governess for Linda’s children. She admired clever people, but felt inferior to them. She didn’t even know what questions she ought to ask. What if she employed someone quite unsuitable? She would be blamed. Giles would blame her. Her mother-in-law would blame her. Linda would never let it go.

Her imagination had presented her with someone tall and stern, with a steely mind, who would barely be able to conceal her contempt for Kitty’s weakness. But when she entered the library, the woman standing by the unlit fireplace was only of medium height, and quite pleasant-faced. And, on seeing Kitty, she smiled, and the smile seemed to have a hint of nervousness about it. Only then did it occur to her that the applicant might have been dreading the interview as much as her. Certainly, she had as much to lose.

It cheered her considerably, and enabled her to say in a firm voice, ‘Miss Kettel? I’m Lady Stainton.’

‘How do you do, your ladyship?’ Miss Kettel said, taking Kitty’s offered hand. And, yes, there was a slight tremor in the voice, which heartened Kitty more.

‘Won’t you sit down?’ There were two upholstered settles, facing each other on either side of the fire. They sat and looked at each other. Miss Kettel seemed to be about forty, with crinkled black hair threaded here and there with grey, and grey eyes behind steel-framed glasses. Her figure was trim and she was neatly dressed in a two-piece of navy cloth, and a nondescript hat of black felt. Her face was oval, rather pale, and while you would not have called her plain, exactly, neither was she beautiful. Ordinary, was the adjective that came to Kitty’s mind. Everything about her was ordinary. If you passed her in the street, or sat in the same carriage with her in a train, you would not spare her a second glance. And Kitty, who had always been regarded as beautiful, and had been, besides, an important heiress and had married an earl, felt an unexpected sympathy.

The silence had now gone on too long. Miss Kettel raised an enquiring eyebrow, and Kitty giggled. ‘It’s very foolish,’ she said, ‘but I haven’t the least idea what questions I ought to ask you. I feel quite at a loss.’

Miss Kettel smiled, and her face, and particularly her eyes, were transformed. ‘It is an awkward situation,’ she agreed. She had a pleasant voice, for which Kitty was grateful. She already had two harsh-voiced women in the house and didn’t need another. ‘Well, ma’am, you might, perhaps, ask me for my references. Or you could quiz me about my experience.’

‘Oh, I know about all that, from the letter the agency sent,’ Kitty said, ‘and you seem quite suitable. I can look at your references later. Shall I tell you about the children? Arabella is nine and Arthur is eight, and I’m afraid they’re terribly ignorant. They haven’t had a governess before, and no-one has given them any regular schooling, as far as I know.’

‘As far as you know? Are they not your children, ma’am?’

‘Oh, no – didn’t they explain? They’re the children of my husband’s sister. She was recently widowed and she and the children have come to live here permanently. So they need taking in hand. They are nice children,’ she added, ‘but they may not take to schoolroom discipline straight away. They have rather run wild until now.’

‘Who has been looking after them?’

‘Servants, mostly. Though my sister-in-law takes them out riding, and plays with them sometimes.’

‘May I ask when they lost their father?’

‘In June.’

‘Poor little things. They will still be shocked and grieving.’

Kitty liked the fact that she had picked up on that aspect of it. It seemed to her, now she thought about it, that no-one had really wondered how Arabella and Arthur actually felt. ‘They have been living with a large family of cousins since the unhappy event, and I think the company has cushioned the blow for them,’ she said.

‘In my experience, Lady Stainton,’ said Miss Kettel, ‘children who suffer a bereavement may seem quite unaffected for a time, but the shock eventually reveals itself, often in ways one might not expect. But forewarned is forearmed. Is it possible to meet their mother?’

Kitty felt embarrassed. ‘Oh – no, not at present. She has gone with some of the family to France. But she has never had a great deal to do with them. I don’t think you will find that she has any tendency to interfere in the schoolroom.’

Miss Kettel smiled. ‘You said, “I will find”. Was it a slip of the tongue, or does it mean you have decided to engage me?’

Kitty smiled too. She had lost any nervousness around this nice, ordinary woman; and indeed, without realising it, had been assuming for some time that she would be the new governess. ‘Will you take the position?’

‘I will. Thank you very much.’

‘Without even meeting the children?’

‘They will have to take me on trust, so I shall return the compliment. I have enjoyed this interview so much, your ladyship, when I had been dreading it, that I’m sure I shall like it here. You are not, if you will excuse my saying so, what I was expecting from the words “Lady Stainton” and “Ashmore Castle”.’

‘And you are not at all what I was expecting, either – I’m glad to say,’ said Kitty. ‘Can you start straight away?’

She hoped it was going to be all right. She thought it would be. At all events, Alice would be glad.

Two horses cantered along the brow of the hill, one liver-chestnut, the other bright chestnut, each ridden by a neat, female figure. They stopped at the end of the ride to let the horses breathe. The clouds spun fast across the windy blue of the sky, changing the colours down in the valley with their shadows, so that the village stood out, now bright and confident, now huddled and dull. ‘I think it’s going to rain,’ Alice said. ‘Can’t you smell it?’

‘We’d better turn for home,’ Kitty said. ‘I think I’ve had enough now, anyway.’

‘I’ve never had enough,’ Alice said, but cheerfully, turning Pharaoh’s head downhill. Apollo turned too, and seeing they were facing home, they bucketed a little and nipped at each other playfully. They could smell the rain too, and as far as horses can imagine, they saw warm stables and full mangers ahead.

‘What do you think of this news of your mother’s?’ Kitty asked, checking Apollo, whose stride was longer. ‘I haven’t had a chance yet to talk to you about it. It was rather a shock.’