Page 162 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle

‘Oh, well, he’s always managed before. Quite an old campaigner, I always say. What does he want you for this time, dear?’ Dory told her. She looked blank. Then she shrugged. ‘The gentry have their funny ideas, don’t they? Time for a cup of tea first? I hear your master has gone off to foreign parts,’ she said, when they were sitting at the kitchen table.

‘How did you know that?’ Dory asked.

‘Our rector’s a friend of your rector, and mentioned it in a letter. And our rector’s maid is first cousin to our Olive, so she heard it from her. A bit of a surprise, isn’t it, his lordship going off like that to dig up old bones and such, and in them nasty foreign places, all flies and dirt and disease? Whatever does he do it for?’

‘It’s not old bones, as I understand it, but vases and statues and so on, and lots of gold and jewels.’

‘Oh, well, that’s different, then. How does her ladyship like it?’

Dory reflected how Rose had said her ladyship had wept all night for two nights; and she herself had seen the swollen eyes, not sufficiently brought down by cold water and witch hazel, when she had happened to be in the nursery while her ladyship was visiting little Lord Ayton. And Mr Richard had seemed to be hovering around her the first few days, as if to be on hand if she collapsed. But it seemed she had made a determined effort, stiffened her spine and was showing a brave face. No collapse was likely.

‘Oh, she’s all right,’ Dory said.

The bell rang. ‘Parlour,’ said Mrs May. ‘Funny to see that bell rung, when it’s always been empty. That’ll be for you, I don’t doubt, dear. D’you want to go, or shall I send Olive?’

‘I’ll go. I want to see how the place has changed.’

‘It’s all very nice, to my mind. Bar the smell of paint.’

‘What do you think?’ Sebastian asked. ‘Did I get it right?’

Dory turned slowly on the spot, taking it all in. The walls were now covered with a pale green silk wallpaper, the floor with a green-and-white Chinese carpet, and there were soft voile curtains at the window. There was a round table in the window, of rosewood, with four pretty chairs upholstered in a darker green silk. There was a dainty French ormolu clock on the mantelpiece and parlour palms in big pots softening the corners of the room. There were comfortable armchairs by the fireside, and beside one of them a nice little sewing-table with a pleated silk drum. And on the walls, there were watercolour paintings of landscapes. It was restful, feminine, inviting – and she loved the sense of the green of the garden making its way in, as if there were no barrier between inside and outside. In the summer, with the windows open . . .

‘It’s perfect,’ she said, with a sense of sadness. She made herself smile at him, touched by his eagerness to please this unknown woman. ‘There’s nothing for me to do here. She’ll love it, sir – or if she doesn’t, she’s a very strange person indeed!’

‘She isn’t strange. But she is remarkable. The most remarkable woman I’ve ever met.’

‘Well, sir, if I might presume, I hope you’ll be very happy together. Just be sure to have lots of flowers everywhere when she arrives as your bride. Have you fixed a date yet?’

‘Not yet,’ he said.

‘I’d be happy to come and do the flowers for the occasion, if you wanted. Oh, but Mrs May can manage them just as well,’ she corrected herself, feeling foolish.

‘I’d like you to do the flowers,’ he said. ‘I’d like you always to do the flowers.’ He took a step towards her, and she looked up, and met his eyes with a sense of shock deep in her stomach. Suddenly, he was much closer than mere geography. ‘Haven’t you guessed?’ he said quietly. ‘You’re usually so quick on the uptake. I did it for you, all for you. That’s why I asked you, so that it would be how you like it.’

Dory stared, unable to believe what she was hearing. But it was all there in his face, more love than she had ever seen in her life.

‘I’m asking you to marry me,’ he said. ‘I think I loved you from the first moment I met you. Our times together have been so precious to me. You amaze and delight me every day: your mind is like a box of treasures. I’ve talked to you more in the past year than I’ve talked to anyone else in the whole of my life. I feel as if we are very alike, as if you understand me. All I need to know is whether you can also love me.’

She didn’t answer, staring at him, trying to make sense of this new information. She felt dizzy, shocked, excited and desperately sad all at once.

His smile wavered. ‘You – you don’t care for me? I thought I had detected a fondness in you towards me. Did I imagine it? I know I’m older than you, and I suppose I’m no great catch – but I am rich enough to support you handsomely, and if devotion, if unwavering love means anything—’

‘Oh, please, don’t!’ she cried. ‘Don’t say any more!’

She saw she had hurt him. A spark went out. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I presumed too much. I’ve put you in a dreadful position. Please forget all about it. I shan’t refer to it again. It will be as though this never happened. The last thing in the world I want is to make life difficult for you. I wanted to see you happy and settled and comfortable, and in my old man’s folly, I imagined—’

‘You didn’t imagine!’ she said urgently, catching his hand. It was strong and warm, the fingers flexible; it was a source of life. ‘You didn’t imagine it! I’ve loved our time together too. I never felt like a servant when I was with you. It’s strange, but I always felt like an equal, as if we were – made from the same cloth.’

‘It’s my age, then,’ he said sadly. ‘You think I’m too old to marry.’

‘You’re not old!’ she protested. ‘You mustn’t ever say that. I would be honoured to marry you. There’s nothing would delight me more than to say yes—’

‘Then say it,’ he said. He stepped right up to her and took her in his arms, and she tilted her head up, longing just for an instant to be kissed. ‘Never mind what anyone else thinks. Marry me, and say to hell with them all! And we’ll show them what real married bliss looks like.’

With a huge mental effort, she made herself reach behind her, took his hands and unclasped them. ‘I can’t,’ she said, taking a half step backwards. ‘I wish I could, but I can’t.’

He regarded her for a long moment. ‘I think you have at least to tell me why. I think I deserve that.’