Imitation of Love Page 5

  It was the same hero worship for the same brave and noble man.

  Chapter Five

  As she struggled to regain composure, whilst the other guests chattered around her, part of Catherine felt terrified for Mr. Oakley, whilst the other part of her was ridiculously happy that he hadn’t been fighting some trivial duel, but had actually been defending his friend against the French. Bertie Carter, whoever he was, must have sent word that he was in trouble.

  She had so many questions she wanted to ask Mr. Oakley, but she also understood he would not want to hear them. He had a view of women as being prattlers and he would expect her to be the same. But she also wanted him to know that not only would she never betray him but she might also be able to help him with his important work. Jimmy’s death must have halted some of the Captain’s activities if he needed to find someone trustworthy to forge new documents.

  She was broken out of her reverie by the conversation at the breakfast table which had turned to King and the fact that he was holding a parade before Easter.

  “Will we be in London then?” asked Alyssa. “I should love to see it.”

  “Yes, I see no reason why we can’t leave a little earlier,” said Oakley. “In fact, Andrew and I have to leave in the morning on Court business. I’ll make sure my house in London is ready for your arrival in a few days.”

  “You’re leaving?” said Mrs. Somerson, with her customary pout. “But Xander, I’ve hardly seen you since I arrived. Perhaps I should return to London.”

  “Don’t cut short your visit on my account,” said Mr. Oakley. “I’ll be far too busy with His Majesty to entertain you all. Why don’ you stay on here, and travel down with the Miss Willoughbys and my aunt on Wednesday?”

  Mrs. Somerson looked as if she’d rather do anything but. “Whilst I’m sure their company will be delightful.” She said it in the manner of someone who’d just been offered a dead cat for her breakfast. “I too have things to take care of in London this week. Lord Granchester has invited me to dinner on Tuesday evening.” She gave Mr. Oakley a look that was at once pathetic and comical.

  “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that very much.” He put down his napkin and stood up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going riding. Does anyone wish to join me?”

  As most of the guests were still feeling the effects of the night before, they refused. Catherine was sorely tempted to ask if she could join him, so they could speak, but when she tried to catch his eye again, she felt sure he pointedly ignored her and left the room.

  She thought to go with him anyway, but before she could, Phoebe Somerson followed him out, so she lost her chance.

  ***

  “Xander… Xander, wait,” said Phoebe. “You are being so mean to me this weekend.”

  Xander was already on his way out of the front door. “Don’t make a scene, Phoebe,” he said, in mild but firm tones. His groom was waiting with his horse, and Xander wasted no time in mounting it. He hoped that Phoebe was too self-absorbed to notice him wincing. His side still hurt, and he knew he probably shouldn’t be riding at all, but he was desperate to get away on his own for a while. He could see that Catherine wanted to speak to him, but he couldn’t deal with her until he had worked out a plan of action. He’d seen the realization in her face when she heard about the Captain’s injury. He had to find a way of putting her off that track, before she shared her idea with someone else.

  “I’m not making a scene,” said Phoebe. He had almost forgotten she was there. “No one else is here.” Clearly his groom didn’t count as somebody, which annoyed him greatly. “I expected you to come to me last night, and you didn’t.” The well-trained groom moved away, and went around to the side of the house.

  “And neither did I intend to. You must see the impropriety of such behaviour when I am responsible for two young girls living in my house.” He was beginning to see that inviting Phoebe at all had been a bad idea. He had mistakenly thought she would take the girls under her wing and perhaps even help him with to guide them in society. Whilst she’d made a fuss of Alyssa to begin with, she had soon grown bored of playing the big sister, and he couldn’t help noticing that she’d been particularly rude to Catherine from the very beginning. The weekend was probably the longest he’d spent in Phoebe’s company. Before then, they’d either met at functions in Court, surrounded by many others, and during the times they’d been alone, they hadn’t done much in the way of talking. Familiarity had made her seem tiresome. Or perhaps, if he were more honest, comparison with Catherine had brought that about.

  “Fatherhood has turned you into a bore,” said Phoebe.

  “I’m their guardian, not their father.” Did she have to insist on reminding him of his age in relation to Catherine?

  “Guardian, father, it makes very little difference. You’ve become all moral and upstanding. You were much more fun when you weren’t. I do have other beaus, you know. Men who would be more than happy to spend time with me.”

  “I hope that one of them will make you happy, Phoebe.” He spoke as kindly as he could, but he had to let her know it was definitely over. “I doubt very much that I could.”

  “You’re a brute!”

  Xander rode away, wondering what on Earth had got into Phoebe. They both knew how the game was played. When it was time to move on from a love affair, both parties were meant to leave with their dignity intact. As he rode on, and the breeze cleared his head, he began to feel guilty. He’d treated Phoebe badly. It was a mistake to bring her to Oakley Castle this weekend. It had given her the impression that he was planning to take their relationship further by making her his wife. He was sure she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

  He would have to do something to ease Phoebe’s feelings of abandonment. A present perhaps. A transaction to buy her off. Pulling the horse up a mile from Oakley Castle, as pain seared his side, he wanted to cry out in anger and frustration. He had become the sort of man he was sure he only pretended to be; a part of the hypocritical society he secretly despised. He was little more than a dandy who treated his lovers in a cavalier fashion and then paid them not to make a fuss when it was over.

  He found himself wondering what Catherine would think of his behaviour. Catherine. It all came back to her. Had she not disturbed his equilibrium, he might have found a kinder way to end his romance with Phoebe when the inevitable end came. From the moment he’d spoken to Catherine in the study at Willoughby Manor, and he’d seen her stick out her proud little chin, he hadn’t wanted any other woman in his life.

  She’d shown great courage in dealing with his injury too, whereas most women of his acquaintance would have fainted on the spot, but that didn’t mean he could ask her to share the dangerous world he inhabited. His instinct was to protect her and keep her from harm.

  Perhaps he should marry Phoebe. She’d be as good a wife as any if he couldn’t have the woman he truly loved. But the idea of a marriage which would surely end with both of them taking other lovers disgusted him. He had to get away. To escape. Perhaps it was time for another trip to France. Except that it would mean leaving Catherine. It was the right thing to do, to keep her out of it altogether, but that didn’t mean he felt good about leaving her.

  Recklessly he spurred on his horse, deciding to spend the day checking the far reaches of his estate. He’d neglected it lately, with so many other things happening. It would give him an excuse not to return to Oakley Castle and Phoebe’s resentment until the evening.

  ***

  Mrs. Somerson had no compunction about letting all the guests at Oakley Castle know she was in a foul mood. Mid-morning, one of the maids, Kitty, dropped a tray she was carrying when Mrs. Somerson careered into her.

  “You stupid creature!” said Mrs. Somerson, striking out at Kitty and clipping her around the ear. “If it were up to me you’d lose your post.” It was a very unladylike way to behave, thought Catherine, and she could see the other guests were embarrassed. But no one stepped forward to speak up for Kitty.


  In the face of everyone’s seeming indifference, though she accepted it was probably more down to embarrassment, Catherine instinctively went to help the girl pick up the mess. “No, Miss Willoughby, you shouldn’t do this,” said Kitty, with tears in her eyes. The poor girl was trembling with terror. “I’m ever so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You’ve done nothing wrong. Griffiths…” Catherine beckoned the butler over.

  “Perhaps someone else could clean up this mess. I believe Kitty needs a break.”

  “I’ll see to it she has a cup of tea in the scullery, Miss Willoughby,” said Griffiths, bowing and smiling warmly at Catherine. “And I’ll send one of the other maids to clean up.”

  “Thank you. I’ll come along and speak to you later, Kitty. No, don’t look worried. You’re not in trouble.” Catherine waited until Kitty had been taken away from the scene before turning on Mrs. Somerson. She knew she should try to be calm and civilised, but her emotions ran away with her. “You had no right to hit that girl.”

  “I had every right. She’s a clumsy fool. Mr. Harrington.” she appealed to that gentleman.

  “The child is an imbecile, is she not?” It was not entirely clear if Mrs. Somerson was talking about Kitty or Catherine. Harrington stammered and shrugged, clearly not wanting to be drawn in to the argument. “When I am mistress here, there will be some changes.”

  “But as you’re not the mistress yet, I think you might at least treat Mr. Oakley’s staff with civility,” said Catherine in a firm, quiet voice which belied the pain she felt in her heart. She knew then that she had to get away somehow. If what Mrs. Somerson said was true, and she was going to be mistress at Oakley Castle, then Catherine could not bear to live there and see her with Mr. Oakley.

  “I’ll also tell him to reconsider his regrettable habit of taking in penniless waifs,” said Phoebe, before holding her head up high and starting to walk up the stairs. She turned back with a parting shot. “But as I’m not an unkind person, I’m sure I could persuade him to keep you on as a maid, since you’re so obviously at home in that sort of company.”

  “How dare you…” Alyssa started to say in defence of her sister, only to be stopped by Mr. Harrington’s hand on her arm.

  “Let her go, Alyssa,” he said in a low voice. “I believe she has lost a battle, and this is one last rally before she admits defeat.”

  Catherine wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but aware that in the lady’s absence all eyes were now on her, she had a sudden need to escape. She murmured an apology for her behaviour and curtseyed politely to the other guests, before excusing herself. She hid in the castle library until lunch time.

  When Mr. Oakley did not appear at lunch or during the afternoon, she began to fear she might never get a chance to speak to him. After lunch, she went to speak to Kitty.

  “Are you well now, Kitty?” asked Catherine, taking a seat at the kitchen table. There was still a red mark on Kitty’s cheek.

  “Yes, Miss Willoughby, I’m much better. I’m not in any trouble, am I? Mr. Griffiths said I’m not, but …”

  “I’m sure Mr. Oakley would be very upset to know what happened. But he will not be angry with you, and if he is, I shall tell him that he has no right to be. I can’t imagine he is ever unkind to his servants.”

  “On, no, Miss Willoughby. The master is ever so kind. And very handsome.” Kitty blushed. “I mean… he’s a proper gentleman.”

  Catherine smiled. “I know what you mean.”

  “Do you think he’s going to marry Mrs. Somerson? Oh, I shouldn’t ask. It’s none of my business, but … all the servants are worried.”

  “I don’t know, Kitty. But if he does I will speak to him and get his assurance that you will all still be treated well.”

  “Thank you, Miss Willoughby. We have liked having you and Miss Alyssa here. Mr. Griffiths said it’s nice to have pretty young ladies living at Oakley Castle again. But he thinks Mrs. Somerson is going to send you away.”

  “We’d probably have to go away one day anyway, Kitty. My sister may marry, and when she does, I shall probably go and live with her.”

  “You might marry as well, Miss Willoughby.”

  “No. I… I don’t think I will.”

  “Sometimes it’s hard, when you love someone so much to think of loving someone else,” said Kitty, with a perception that surprised Catherine. “But you’re so beautiful. I’m sorry, I always speak out of turn. Mr. Griffiths tells me off about it all the time. He says I’ll never make a ladies maid if I don’t learn to be quiet.”

  “Is that what you want to be?”

  “Oh yes, Miss Willoughby. I’d love it.”

  “Very well, I need a maid for when I go to London. I’ve been sharing Jenny with Miss Alyssa.” Catherine did not tell Kitty it was because she was trying to cut down on how much money Mr. Oakley spent on her. “But it’s a lot of work for one girl, especially if we’ll be attending lots of balls and coming home late. If you’d like the post as my maid…”

  “Oh, Miss Willoughby that’s so kind of you. I would love it. I’ll look after you ever so well.”

  “I know you will, Kitty. Get a good night’s sleep tonight then start in the morning. I’ll let Mr. Griffiths know about your change of employment.”

  “Will Mr. Oakley mind?”

  “Leave that to me. He said I should have my own maid, so he can’t really refuse.” With Kitty as her maid, Catherine hoped it would not bring the girl into Mrs. Somerson’s orbit again, and she might be able to take her with her when she left. Plus, Catherine liked Kitty. She was open, honest and eager to do well.

  All the guests started to worry when Mr. Oakley also missed dinner. Apart from Mrs. Somerson, who drank heavily and flirted outrageously with all the young men. But it was clear from their eyes that she had lost some of her allure. They said the right things, but to Catherine - although she might have imagined it – their compliments seemed half-hearted. Mr. Harrington did not even bother to pretend. He spent the whole evening talking to Alyssa. One of the young men, realizing that Catherine was without attention, did his best to amuse her, but gave up when it became clear that her mind was on other things.

  “I believe the master has encountered some problems on the estate,” Griffiths informed Mr. Harrington when he asked after Mr. Oakley. “He sent a message asking cook to leave cold platter for him.”

  When it became clear that Mr. Oakley was not going to return until very late, Catherine had no choice but to go up to bed when everyone else turned in. Griffiths stopped her just as she was about to go upstairs.

  “Miss Willoughby, I just wanted you to know that I’ve prepared Kitty for her new post as your maid.”

  “That’s very kind, thank you, Griffiths.”

  “You can trust Kitty, Miss Willoughby. She’s a good girl. Prattles a little bit too much for my liking, but there’s no harm in her. In fact … you can trust all the servants at Oakley Castle. All of us are happy to serve you and Miss Alyssa in any way we can. Nothing will change that.”

  Catherine felt that he was not just being unctuous. He was letting her know something very important about if and when Mrs. Somerson married Mr. Oakley. She and Alyssa would not be without friends. “Thank you, Griffiths. I hope I haven’t caused you too many problems by taking one of the housemaids.”

  “If I may be so bold as to say it, some people are worth going to extra trouble over, Miss Willoughby.” Griffiths bowed, and went about his business.

  When Alyssa came to Catherine’s room later that night, it wasn’t with her usual buoyancy. She looked troubled. She climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over her head. It was something she’d had done since she was little, and reminded Catherine that in many ways, her sister was still a child.

  “What is it, dearest?” Catherine had already guessed the answer. She pulled the covers from Alyssa’s head.

  “I’ve tried so hard not to love Mr. Harrington, Cat. Really I have. But no other man is like him. I can’t
bear the thought of being with someone else, even if he is rich and can buy me pretty dresses.”

  “Sometimes your heart wants what it wants, darling.” Catherine stroked Alyssa’s fair curls.

  “But he doesn’t think Mr. Oakley will give his permission, because Andrew is broke, like we are.”

  “Would you like me to speak to Mr. Oakley?”

  “Would you?” Alyssa sat up, her glum expression dissipating in moments. “But I thought you wanted me to marry someone rich, Cat.”

  “I wanted you to marry someone who could take care of you, and whether Mr. Harrington has money or not, I’ve no doubt he’ll do that.” Catherine knew what Alyssa did not. That Harrington was one of the Captain’s men, and therefore just as brave and noble as Mr. Oakley. She had no doubt that he’d guard Alyssa with his life. She was also realistic enough to know that an upper classed man’s idea of being broke was not quite the same as the poverty to be found in the darkest parts of England. It merely meant one could not afford horses and expensive balls, or to have an army of servants. Even when the Willoughbys fortunes were at their lowest ebb, they somehow managed to put food on the table. Only Jimmy’s death, and the annuity that died with him, left Catherine and Alyssa in such dire straits. Whether Alyssa would understand that, when she wanted pretty dresses that Harrington could not provide, was another matter. But that she loved him was unquestionable, and Catherine realised that she did not want her sister to be subjected to a loveless society marriage any more than she would want one for herself.