Page 18 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

‘Nobody. I taught myself.’

‘You didn’t have a drawing-master? You didn’t do art at school?’

‘I didn’t go to school. I had a governess for a while, but nobody taught me. I just did it because I love it. But I want to be better.’

Mrs Brightwell smiled, and her face was transformed. No-one would have taken her for a cook just then. ‘That’s the right answer!’ she said. ‘You have talent, but you have much to learn. I’m glad you know it. I’ve no room for girls who think they know everything already. Are you prepared to work hard?’

‘Oh, yes, ma’am. It’s all I want.’

‘Then I think we can take you. Term has begun already, but the young ladies have been settling in, so you won’t have missed anything important. I suggest you come in on Friday to get your bearings, and start lessons on Monday. You’re living nearby, you said?’

Richard answered. ‘With our aunt, in Berkeley Square.’

‘That is satisfactory. We have a few girls who board but I have no vacancies for a boarder at present. So now we need only discuss our fees.’

Alice had little idea of money, never having had to use it, so she didn’t know whether the fee was high or not. Richard did not blink, but merely nodded and said, ‘I assume a cheque will be acceptable.’ And that was that.

But outside he said, ‘I just hope Mother doesn’t forbid this when she finally hears about it, because that fee’s a stiff one and I’m pretty sure it won’t be refundable. I’m not sure I’d even have the gall to ask – your Mrs Brightwell might look like one’s granny, but I have the feeling she’s tempered steel inside.’

‘My Mrs Brightwell,’ Alice said, and laughed with pleasure. ‘I’m going to study art,’ she said, hugging herself. ‘I really am.’

* * *

Rachel was daydreaming over breakfast when Afton came in with the letters on a tray, and startled her back to the present by laying one beside her plate. If a bow could be said to convey emotion, his was sympathetic. She only said, ‘Oh!’ as she looked at it, but Kitty knew it was not an ‘Oh!’ of pleasure.

They were alone at the table. Richard was still in London with Alice; Giles had breakfasted earlier and gone out about his business; and Uncle Sebastian was at his own house in Henley for a few days. And Linda had gone to visit her long-suffering friends the Willoughbys on their estate in Somerset, in the hope of an invitation to go with them to Paris – Mrs Willoughby always went in February – while her children were upstairs at their lessons with Miss Kettel.

So it was up to Kitty to show an interest in her sister-in-law’s affairs. ‘Not bad news, I hope?’ she said.

Rachel looked up tearfully. ‘It’s from Mama. She’s—’

‘Upset?’ Kitty suggested, when Rachel didn’t finish.

Rachel nodded, read to the end, then said, ‘You can read it if you like. You can probably guess what it says anyway.’

It was not the sort of letter Kitty would have liked to receive – at the same age she had been even more shy and sensitive than Rachel. The words were so angry that at times the dowager’s pen had stabbed right through the paper. At the end of the tirade, she forbade Rachel to see or correspond with Angus. Maud would come in person to fetch her as soon as was convenient. Until then she was to remain at the Castle and concentrate on her languages, both French and German, and practise on the piano every day, to ready herself for the prestigious marriage that was being arranged for her. She was also, the letter concluded, to look to her conscience and pray to be forgiven for her unfilial behaviour, which had caused her mother such distress, and a breakdown in health.

‘Oh dear,’ Kitty said, as she got to the end. Rachel was weeping now. Kitty was amazed at how she managed to do it without the contorted features, swollen eyes and red nose that afflicted ordinary mortals. She looked, if anything, even more beautiful when weeping. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not a nice letter to receive.’

‘It’s so unfair!’ Rachel cried. ‘I love him! She doesn’t understand!’

Kitty thought her mother-in-law understood perfectly well, but simply did not regard Rachel’s feelings as relevant. Maud’s marriage had been arranged for her, and so had Linda’s. Kitty’s too – though in her case she had wanted to marry Giles more than anything. Girls of Rachel’s rank married as they were directed, always had, always would.

‘I’m sorry,’ Kitty said again. ‘But you know there’s nothing to be done about it. Much better to put Angus out of your mind. You’ll only make yourself miserable.’

‘I don’t want to marry a R-Russian,’ Rachel grieved.

‘He might be very nice,’ Kitty said. ‘And once you start having babies it will all be different.’

Rachel turned drowned blue eyes on her. ‘Why do babies make it different?’

‘Because you love them so much, you can’t want any life where you didn’t have them.’

Rachel dried her eyes daintily. ‘I’ll go upstairs now, if you don’t mind,’ she said, getting up, and added, ‘To practise my French.’

She had always been a good girl, always obedient, because she had always hated to be scolded. But loving Angus had changed that. She was going to defy her mother. She was going to write to Angus. She would see him whenever the opportunity arose. And if necessary, she would run away with him. In the mean time, she realised she would have to allay suspicion. She wouldn’t put it past her mother to have someone in the household who reported on her. So Rachel would improve her languages and piano and behave like a good, obedient girl – and hope fervently that Angus could come up with a plan before Mama came to England and kidnapped her.

CHAPTER FOUR