Page 16 of Gallant Waif
The old lady grimaced. “In this bed? My dear, how could I?” She gestured towards the shabby hangings and worn furniture. “I suppose I must be grateful that I have a chamber at all, since my dear grandson refused even to see his sister. Thank heavens Smithers had the forethought to pack bedding. I don’t know what sort of place my grandson is running here, but I can tell you—I intend to have words with him on the subject.”
The old lady twinkled beadily at her and Kate found herself smiling back. She poured the tea.
“Tea?” said the old lady pettishly. “I told Smithers chocolate.”
“I fear there is none to be had in the house.”
“No chocolate?” said the old lady incredulously. “I know the countryside is uncivilised, but this is ridiculous.” She pouted. “I suppose there are no fresh pastries either?”
Kate shook her head. “No, indeed, ma’am. But I did get you some freshly boiled eggs and a little toast. Here, eat it while it is still hot,” she coaxed.
Ignoring the old woman’smoueof distaste, Kate placed the food before her. After some grumbling, Lady Cahill consumed the repast, pretending all the while that she was only doing it to please Kate. Finally she sat back against her pillows and regarded Kate speculatively. “Now, missy,” she said. “I gather you’ve met my grandson.”
“What did he say about me?” Kate asked warily.
The old lady chuckled. “Nothing much, really.”
“Oh,” said Kate. Clearly Lady Cahill did not intend to enlighten her. “He…he doesn’t know who I am, does he, ma’am?”
The old lady noted with interest the faint colour that rose on Kate’s cheeks. “Didn’t he ask you?”
Kate looked slightly embarrassed. “No…I mean, yes, he asked me, and of course I told him my name. But I don’t think he understands my position.”
“What did you tell him?”
Kate looked uncomfortable. “I told him to ask you.” She was annoyed to find that her voice had taken on a faintly defensive tone and added boldly, “Indeed, ma’am, I could not answer him, having been kidnapped! I do not know why you have brought me to this place or what you intend me to do.”
Lady Cahill acknowledged her point with a slow nod. “Truth to tell, child, I had no clear intention at the time, except to get you away from that dreadful cottage and prevent you from ruining your life.”
“Ruining my life? How so, ma’am?”
“Tush, girl. Don’t poker up like that! Once you’d been in service that would have been the end of any possibility for an eligible alliance.”
“An eligible alliance!” Kate spoke in tones of loathing.
“Yes, indeed, miss!” snapped Lady Cahill. “You’re not on the shelf yet. You have good blood, good bones and you have no business giving up on life in such a stubborn fashion!”
“Giving up on life? I’m not giving up on life. I am endeavouring to make my way in it. And I fully intend to do so—in the wayIchoose to do it!”
Kate jumped up from her seat at the end of the bed and began to pace around the room. It was vital that she get Lady Cahill to understand. It was simply not possible for Kate to make an eligible alliance any longer. She was ruined and, even if she attempted to hide the fact, it must come out eventually. But she had no desire to explain the whole sordid tale to this autocratic old lady whose sharp tongue hid a kind heart. It was cowardly, she knew, but if she could retain this old lady’s respect, even by false means, she would. She must convince her some other way.
“I know you mean well by your charity, but I cannot bring myself to accept it. I have been too long accustomed to running my father’s household, and have had responsibilities far in excess of other girls of my age and station.”
“Charity be damned!” snapped Lady Cahill.
“Ma’am, just look at me. Look at my clothes. You say you wish me to live with you as your guest, to take me into society. Can you see me paying morning visits and attending balls in this?” She gestured angrily at her shabby garments.
Lady Cahill stared at her incredulously. “Well, of course not, you ridiculous child! I wouldn’t dress my lowest skivvy in those rags.” She leant back in the bed, shaking her head at the folly of the girl. “Naturally I will provide you with all that you will need—dresses, gowns, gloves, hats, parasols, trinkets—all the fal-lals that you could wish for. “
“Exactly, ma’am. I would have to ask you for each little thing, and that I could not bear.”
“Ah, bah!” snorted Lady Cahill.
“Besides, ma’am, I have no social skills to speak of. You seem to have overlooked the fact of my upbringing. I have no musical skills, I have never learnt to paint watercolours, I can patch and darn anything, and have even sewn up wounds, but I cannot do fancy embroidery. I can dance, but I do not know how to chat of nothing day in and day out. I have worked for most of my life, ma’am, and that is what I do best. I simply do not have it in me to act the social butterfly and that is what you want me to do.”
Oh, Lord, Kate prayed, let me not have to tell her the truth. Her arguments were valid enough; it would be difficult for Kate to accept charity—that was true. She knew herself to be overly stiff-necked about such things. But to attend routs and balls, to learn her way in society, to bury herself in frivolity for a time—a foolish part of Kate longed for those very things.
Lady Cahill stared, utterly appalled. “Child, child, you have no idea what you are saying. Most of those things are not necessary and the others you can learn. Entering society does not mean becoming a social butterfly and chatting of nothing—though, I grant you, a great many people do little else. But there are fools in every stratum of society.”
