“Bring Torquil up to the house? Why should she have done so?” asked Sir Timothy, his voice sharpened by anxiety.
“Oh, he took a toss, and was momentarily stunned!” she answered with an indulgent laugh. “Overfacing his horse, of course! So stupid of him! Fleet—you know what these people are, my love!—believed him to be dead, but, in point of fact, he is very little the worse for his tumble!”
“Not a penny the worse!” corroborated the doctor. “Merely bruised, shaken, chastened, and reeking of arnica! So he is dining in his own room this evening—feeling thoroughly shamefaced, I daresay! But no cause for anxiety, Sir Timothy! It may be regarded in the light of a salutary lesson!”
“We must hope so!” said Lady Broome, getting up. “Shall we go down to dinner now? Dr Delabole, will you give me your arm? Philip, you may give yours to your uncle! Which leaves poor Kate without a gentleman to escort her, but she is so much a part of the family that I shan’t apologize to her!”
Dinner pursued what Kate had long since come to regard as its tedious course. Lady Broome maintained a light flow of everyday chit-chat, in which she was ably seconded by the doctor. She was looking a trifle haggard, but she held herself as upright as ever, and when she rose from the table she declined the doctor’s offered assistance.
“Let James give you his arm, my lady!” said Sir Timothy, seeing her stagger, and put out a hand to grasp a chair-back.
She gave a breathless laugh. “Very well—if you insist! How stupid to be so invalidish! It is only my knees, you know! They need exercise!”
But when she reached the head of the Grand Stairway she looked so pale that Kate was alarmed, and begged her to retire to bed. She refused to do this, but after pausing for a few moments, leaning heavily on the footman’s arm, she recovered, and resolutely straightened herself, desiring Kate to summon Sidlaw, and to tell her to bring the cordial Dr Delabole had prescribed to the Long Drawing-room.
It took time to perform this errand, for Sidlaw was not immediately available. A young housemaid came in answer to the bell, and told Kate that Sidlaw was at supper, in the Housekeeper’s Room; and, although she made haste to deliver my lady’s command to her, the servants’ quarters were so inconveniently remote that it was several minutes before Sidlaw came hurrying in. Upon being told that my lady wanted a cordial, she said that she knew how it would be, and had warned her ladyship What would be the outcome of going down to dinner before she was fit to stand on her feet. When she had measured out a dose of the restorative medicine, and Kate would have taken it from her, she said sharply: “Thank you, miss! I prefer to take it to her ladyship myself!” and sailed off, full of zeal and fury.
Not at all sorry that, for the moment at least, she would be spared a tete-a-tete with her aunt, Kate followed her. By the time Lady Broome had swallowed the cordial, and Sidlaw, disregarding her impatience, had fussed over her, drawing a heavy screen behind her chair to protect her from an imaginary draught, placing a cushion behind her head, begging to be allowed to fetch a warmer shawl, and placing her vinaigrette on a small table drawn up beside her chair, the gentlemen, not lingering over their port, had come in. Sidlaw then withdrew, with obvious reluctance, and while the doctor bent solicitously over Lady Broome, Sir Timothy, smiling a little sadly at Kate, murmured: “A last game of backgammon, my child?”
She agreed to it; Philip got the board out of the cabinet, and sat down to watch the game; Lady Broome leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes; and the doctor went away to see how Torquil was going on. He came back in the wake of the tea-tray, with a comfortable account of Torquil, who had eaten a very good dinner, he said, and was now gone to bed. Lady Broome then put an end to the backgammon session by calling Kate to dispense the tea. She seemed to have recovered both her complexion and her strength, but as soon as the footman came to remove the tray she got up, saying that it was time she retired, and adding: “Come, Kate!”
Philip looked quickly at Kate, a question in his eyes. She very slightly shook her head, and, seeing Sir Timothy’s hand stretched out to her, went to him, bending over him, with her free hand on his shoulder, preventing his attempt to rise from his chair. “Pray don’t get up, sir!” she said, smiling wistfully.
He drew her down to kiss her cheek, whispering in her ear: “Come and see me before you go tomorrow, to say goodbye to me!”
“I will,” she promised, under her breath.
“Goodnight, my pretty! Bless you!” he said, releasing her.
Lady Broome, waiting in the archway, watched this scene with placid complaisance, and said, as soon as she had passed through the anteroom: “I believe Sir Timothy does indeed look upon you as the daughter of his old age! He is so fond of you, dear child!”
“I am very fond of him, ma’am,” Kate replied, walking slowly down the broad gallery, with Lady Broome’s hand resting on her arm.
“Are you? I wonder! I am beginning to think, Kate, that, for all your engaging manners, you are not very fond of anyone. Certainly not of me!”
Innate honesty forbade Kate to deny this; she could only say: “You are feeling low, and oppressed, ma’am: don’t let us brangle!”
“I am feeling very low, and more oppressed than ever before in my life—almost at the end of my rope! You will own that I have enough to sink me in despair, even though you refuse to help me! Do you know, I have never asked for help before?”
“Aunt Minerva, I can’t give it to you!” Kate said bluntly. “I thought there was nothing I wouldn’t do to repay your kindness, but when you ask me to marry Torquil you are asking too much! I beg of you, don’t try to persuade me to do so! It is useless—you will only agitate yourself to no purpose!”
They had reached the upper hall; Lady Broome paused there, her light clasp on Kate’s arm tightening into a grip. “Think!” she commanded, a harsh note creeping into her voice. “If the advantages of such a marriage don’t weigh with you, does it weigh with you that by persisting in your refusal you will have condemned Torquil to spend the rest of his life in strict incarceration?” She observed the whitening of Kate’s cheeks, the look of horror in her eyes, and smiled. “Oh, yes!” she said, a purring triumph in her voice. “After today’s exploit, there is left to me only one hope of guarding the secret of his madness. Do you realize that he might have brought his horse down on top of the woman who was leading her child by the hand? Do you know that he rode Scholes down in the stableyard? What, you little ninnyhammer, do you suppose that Scholes, and Fleet, and whoever they were who were passing along the lane at that disastrous moment, are now thinking—and discussing, if I know them? Dr Delabole has done what he could to convince Scholes and Fleet that for Torquil to have spurred his horse into a wall was nothing but the act of a headstrong boy, but he might as well have hung up his axe! Only one thing can now silence the gabble-mongers, and that’s the news that Torquil is about to be married to a girl of birth and character! That must give them pause! In any event, only one thing signifies: that there shall be an heir to Staplewood!”
“Oh!” cried Kate, losing control of herself. “Can you think of nothing but Staplewood? The only thing that signifies! Good God, what does Staplewood matter beside the dreadful fate that hangs over poor Torquil?”
“If Torquil could have been cured by the abandonment of my hopes of seeing my descendants at Staplewood, I suppose I must have abandoned them,” said Lady Broome coldly. “It would have been my duty, and I’ve never yet failed in that I But it can make no difference to him. If I seem unfeeling, you must remember that I have had time to grow accustomed. Nor am I one to grieve endlessly over what can’t be helped. I prefer to make the best I can out of what befalls me.”
“It hasn’t befallen you, ma’am!”
“No: not yet! Perhaps, if I can provide him with a wife, it never will. He may grow calmer when his passions find a natural outlet: Delabole considers it to be possible.”
“Does he consider it beyond possibility that a child of Torquil’s should inherit his malady?” Kate asked, unable to repress the bitter indignation which swelled in her breast.
“It is a risk I must take,” said Lady Broome, sublimely unaware of the effect these words had upon her niece.
Kate managed to pull her arm free; she stepped back a pace, and said, with a tiny contemptuous laugh: “There’s another risk you would have to take, ma’am! Hasn’t it occurred to you that Torquil’s child might be a daughter?”
It was evident that this thought had never disturbed Lady Broome’s incredible dreams. She stared at Kate, as though stunned, and when she spoke it was scarcely above a whisper. “God couldn’t be so cruel!” she uttered.
Kate made a hopeless gesture. “Let me take you to your room, ma’am! It is of no use to continue arguing: it is as though we weren’t speaking the same language! I am leaving you tomorrow, and—and I wish very much to do so without a quarrel with you!” She drew a resolute breath, and braced herself, and found the courage to keep her eyes steady on her aunt’s face. “There is something else I must tell you, ma’am. I would have told when—when it happened, but you were too ill to be troubled with what I know you will dislike—I fear, excessively! I can only beg you to believe that I haven’t wished to deceive you, and that I can’t and won’t leave Staplewood without telling you that Mr Philip Broome proposed to me on the very day you took ill, and that I accepted his offer!”
"Cousin Kate" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Cousin Kate". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Cousin Kate" друзьям в соцсетях.