Page 85 of Rivals at Ashmore Castle

The dance ended and he returned his damp and panting partner to her group and, seeing it was what they were hoping for, saluted her with an exaggeratedly hearty kiss on the cheek, which made everyone laugh and clap.

He turned around, looking for the next victim – beg pardon, partner! – and found himself looking across the dancing area at his sister, standing side by side with Axe Brandom. They were not looking at each other, appeared not to be aware of each other’s presence, but he couldn’t believe anyone would not know when Brandom was standing right there. And as he watched, he saw their lips move, in turn, and only slightly, as if – yes, as if they were talking to each other but trying to hide the fact. What on earth…?

Then the crowd around the two moved, seeming to push them together, Alice looked up at the woodsman, and he looked down at her, just for a moment. Great God, what a look! Richard felt coolness on his scalp as his hair rose in shock. What the Dickens…?

Brandom had moved away now, disappeared into the crowd, and Alice was staring ahead of her at the empty air as if turned to stone.

The musicians were putting down their beer mugs, ready to start up another tune. For quickness’ sake Richard darted straight across the dance area rather than trying to work his way around, arrived in front of his sister and, as the first chords sounded, took hold of her firmly and said, ‘Come and dance with me.’

She yielded without speaking.

‘You didn’t look as though you were enjoying yourself,’ he said, as they danced.

She made a visible effort to drag herself away from her thoughts. ‘Oh – well – no-one was asking me to dance. I suppose they didn’t like to, me being Lady Alice.’

She said the words as though they were a curse.

‘Just politeness,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I’m dancing with you now, so there’s no need to look so bleak.’

‘Bleak?’

‘You look like a lost dog shivering in the snow. What’s wrong, dear? You can tell me.’

For a moment he thought she would. She glanced up at him and then away, and he thought she took a breath in preparation for speech, but she let it out again in a sigh.

He tried again. ‘When a young woman looks so sad, it’s usually unrequited love.’

‘It’s not that,’ she said, with a little emphasis that gave him to think. Wasn’t love? Or wasn’t unrequited? If the latter…Oh, God, the look that had passed between them! Was his dear, sensible sister in love with one of the estate workers, as ill-chosen a passion as it could possibly be? Not that he couldn’t see the attraction – Brandom was a handsome devil, and had, moreover, a great presence about him, the sort of quiet inner power that made animals come to his hand. And, it seemed, young women too. Brandom was unmarried and Richard had never heard of him being involved with any girl. He lived hermit-like in that cottage up in Motte Woods, and there was not so much as a hint that he was sparking any of the village girls, or ever had. Worse and worse! Wasn’t unrequited? What the devil was he to do?

‘I thought, when I saw you looking sad, that it was someone in London,’ he began.

She answered the next question but one. ‘There’s nothing to be done. I know that.’

He squeezed her hand and they danced in silence. But did she? He knew what it was to love in the wrong place, and he knew that if Molly had allowed him to, he would have thrown caution and everything else to the winds to have her. Molly had removed herself from the scene, and that was the only thing that could have stopped him.

In this case, Alice could not remove herself; and to be fair, Brandom would have difficulty in removing himself too. Richard sighed inwardly. Much as he didn’t want to, he thought he might have to intervene.

Rachel had been afraid of her mother all her life. Now she was about to remove herself from her influence, finally and completely. Even though there was one corner of her mind that still feared Mama could spoil everything, she wanted to stand up to her, and have the satisfaction of seeing her bested.

She did quake, her knees did knock, when Mama first turned her basilisk stare on her in the hall when they arrived, but after a long look, all the dowager said was, ‘Is that your rose-fawn shantung? I suppose it is good enough for travelling. I hope you have brought something suitable for the wedding,’ before turning her attention elsewhere.

Rachel felt relief, then disappointment. She had braced herself for combat, only to have it denied. But Linda was demanding her attention, wanting Rachel to admire the ring Cousin Pippi had given her to mark their betrothal.

Nothing was talked of for the rest of the evening but the wedding, and Rachel relaxed. Linda could hardly tell her more than she wanted to know about the arrangements, the wedding outfit, going-away clothes, hats, furs, carriages, jewels, the guest list, the menu for the wedding-breakfast, the wedding-trip, which of Pippi’s castles they would live in when, and for how long.

So when her mother finally pounced, Rachel was off her guard. They were processing after dinner from the dining-room to the drawing-room when Maud halted abruptly, waved the others past, and stopped Rachel with a look. When they were alone, she said, ‘You could have had all Linda will have, and more. You could have been a princess in Russia, with an establishment beyond imagination. It is what you were born for, raised for at great expense, what I prepared you for when you came out. And you threw it all away for that – boy.’

Rachel’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Angus is rich now. And he has a title,’ she said feebly. ‘I love him.’

‘Love!’ Maud said with withering scorn. ‘You stupid girl!’

Rachel felt she must fight back, just a little. Lifting her chin, she said, ‘You can’t stop me marrying him.’

A bleak triumph gleamed in Maud’s eye. ‘I have no intention of trying. I did everything I could for you, but you would not listen to reason. You have made your bed, and you must lie in it. A title? It is barely that. Rich? You have no notion of it. You will be a middle-class housewife, and we shall see how long this “love” of yours lasts when you understand the society you will move in, the things you cannot have. I’m glad you came to Linda’s wedding, so that you can see what you have thrown away. And that’s all I have to say to you.’

She swept on, leaving Rachel trembling. She had to remain in the hall to recover a little before she could join the party in the drawing-room. She tried to conjure up Angus’s image, but in her present state even that hardly helped. It occurred to her belatedly that perhaps her mother still hoped she would fall in with her plans. Perhaps coming to the wedding had not been such a good idea after all. She had wanted the chance to defy her mother face to face. There was an old saying, wasn’t there, about being careful what you wished for?

Kitty was soothing her maternal longings for her own babies by revelling in Maud’s. Giles had been right: her mother-in-law did not seem to remember her outburst in April, and treated Kitty no differently – which was to say with cool indifference. Kitty could not help at first showing her resentment, but since Maud patently did not notice it, it only made her feel foolish, and she was forced in the end to let go of the past, shrug, and carry on as if nothing had happened. The prince was all politeness and eagerness to please, and Linda was in her triumph and being hugely gracious to everyone, so the atmosphere in the house was agreeable.