Page 62 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle

‘Well, I dare say there will be. Grand folks, probably. Dinner on Saturday evening will be formal. What’s your best evening dress?’

‘My cornflower silk.’

‘No, that won’t do, not with your emeralds. You’d better get something new made – there’s time. What’s that pale green colour that’s all the go? Eau-de-Nile? That would suit you handsomely and go with the emeralds. And don’t worry about shoes – I’ll have a pair run off for you to match.’ He had had a last made for her shortly after their wedding. His wife, he had said, of all people should always be perfectly shod. ‘Your blue will do for the Sunday, with your wedding diamonds. Now, what about day dresses?’

She had found his excitement about the invitation, and his minute overseeing of her wardrobe for the occasion, a useful distraction from thoughts she was anxious to avoid. She wanted to see Kitty – of course she did – but it meant seeing Giles. Being under the same roof with Giles. Being in Giles’s company with her husband. The opportunities for mental disloyalty would be everywhere. She did not want to be that sort of person. And yet – and yet – to see him again! Just to see him . . .

They drove up quite a steep hill on a badly kept track, but Mr Cowling, leaning forward clutching the strap and peering out of the window didn’t seem to notice the jolts. His reward was the first view of the house, just as it was meant to be seen from the curve of the track, looking down on them, long and white, its crenellations sharp against the blue sky. ‘By golly,’ he breathed, ‘it’s a fine-looking place. This is something like!’

He said it again when they pulled up in front of the great door and he saw a butler and two footmen waiting to greet them, as well as Lord and Lady Stainton. ‘This is something like,’ he breathed, only varying the emphasis.

Nina had a moment of fear that he would be too ingratiating towards Giles, and she would be embarrassed. But of course he had met plenty of grand folks before, right up to and including the King, so he behaved just as he ought – friendly and natural with Giles, just a little fatherly with Kitty – and she felt ashamed of herself for not trusting him.

For her, there were Kitty’s arms and a fierce embrace, and a whisper in her ear, ‘Dear Nina!’ Then she was set back and Kitty looked up into her face (she had forgotten how little Kitty was) and said, ‘You haven’t changed. I’m so glad.’

Kitty, she saw, had changed. She was still shy, but not paralysed by it. There was now a little firmness behind it. She was able to look directly at Mr Cowling as she shook hands with him; and in her clothes and bearing she was definitely a matron, not a maiden.

And then Nina had to greet Giles. Her heart was pounding, her palms were damp, and she felt a pressure in her ears as though she might faint. She felt his hand take hers, heard his voice like a touch on her skin – ‘Nina, welcome.’ She thought he might kiss her cheek, but after a moment’s hesitation he released her hand and said, ‘Shall we go in?’ And so it was over, the first meeting – which had to be the hardest to bear, didn’t it?

‘No, there’s no party, just us. Were you expecting one? I’m sorry.’

‘Not at all, it’s of no consequence,’ Mr Cowling said genially. ‘I know these two young ladies will have too much to say to each other to put up with having other folk around.’

Giles smiled, and said, ‘As a matter of fact, we haven’t entertained much yet, since the baby was born. And a lot of people are still away. But we’ll try to keep you amused.’

‘No need to be in a fuss about me. I’m looking forward to a good jaw with you about the estate.’

‘Indeed?’ said Giles, startled. What could Cowling care about the estate? He was trying not to look directly at him. He didn’t want anything to remember about him later. He didn’t want anything he could imagine Nina lying in bed with.

‘You must come and see my baby,’ Kitty said to Nina, and dragged her away.

Their old ease of communication did not immediately return. Partly this was because they no longer shared their days, so had no common ground. Partly it was the house, Nina decided. Could this chatelaine of the vast and grand Ashmore Castle really be the same Kitty who had shared a bedroom with her, who could never spell ‘apparent’, or subtract one-and-nine from half a crown?

At the top of the stairs Kitty turned and looked at her anxiously, disturbed by the silence. Her lips parted, but she couldn’t find the right question.

Nina filled in for her. ‘I can’t believe you’re really mistress of all this!’ She waved a hand to indicate the vastness of the house.

‘Except that I hardly am,’ Kitty said.

But in the nursery, Nanny and Jessie treated her with proper deference. Nina felt again the distance that had grown up between her and her friend. Chatelaine or not, she was now a mother. Kitty had passed through gates into a different land.

As for the baby – perhaps you had to have one yourself to find them fascinating. Nina thought Louis quite a nice baby, as they went. While Kitty pointed out his various beauties, Nina noted that he did not bear any resemblance to Giles as far as she could see. He didn’t look like Kitty either, for that matter. To the eye of the amateur, he was just a baby.

Kitty, cradling him, seemed ready to gaze at the sleeping face all day. ‘I worry about him all the time,’ she said.

‘He looks healthy enough,’ Nina said.

‘Oh, he is well,’ Kitty said, ‘but so many things can go wrong. So many diseases. And accidents. Sharp things, hot water, stairs . . . They’re so helpless and fragile. How do they ever survive?’

‘Well, mostly they do – don’t they?’ Nina said, out of her depth.

‘My little brother Peter was strong and healthy, and then suddenly he was gone. If anything happened to Louis, I don’t know how I could bear it. I love him so much it hurts.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Nina said after a moment. ‘What you’re feeling, isn’t it rather wonderful to love someone so much? And as he grows up, he will love you just as strongly. That must be worth the price, surely?’

Kitty looked up. ‘You’re right, of course. Oh, Nina, I wish you could have what I have. But you will one day, I’m sure.’ It was meant as a statement, but it came out rather more as a question. Nina didn’t answer, and Kitty went on falteringly, ‘You are happy, aren’t you – with Mr Cowling?’

‘Of course I am,’ Nina answered promptly. ‘He’s very kind to me. He spoils me.’