She had let herself become complacent, comfortable, secure.
She’d stopped fearing discovery with every stranger—because she met no strangers. The effects of Jack’s self-imposed isolation and the unusually severe winter had ensured that. They had existed, in the months she’d been here, as if in a cocoon, or on an island. And in that cocoon Kate had felt safe.
But now Jack had regained his strength, the spring thaw was coming and the protective isolation had been ripped away. The man whom she could hear now, laughing with his friends, bore little resemblance to the embittered recluse she’d encountered when she’d first arrived at Sevenoakes. The world could come to Jack Carstairs now and he would welcome it. She, however, was exposed to strangers’ eyes and dependent on the vagaries of their memories…
There was no use worrying—she should concentrate on preparing dinner out of what she had available. She sent Carlos to kill two more chickens, and prepared a pie from the remains of yesterday’s roast beef. It would be a plain but substantial meal. And Carlos would serve it.
After dinner the gentlemen sat over their port.
Kate sat in the adjoining room, her chair pushed as near as was decent to the connecting door. Some sewing lay in her lap, but her fingers weren’t moving. She was eavesdropping. She had been unable to endure the strain any longer—she had to know whether any of the men had recognised her. From where she was sitting she could hear every word in the next room.
“Pos’tively cosy li’l place you have here, Jack,” said Sir Toby. “Good dinner, good wine, roaring fire, good companions—all a man could want, right here. And right smack bang in the middle of some of the best damned hunting country in the world! You’re a lucky man, Jack Carstairs.”
At his words an awkward hush fell over the room.
“Oh, God, Jack, I’m a clumsy oaf! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Just shut up, Tubby!” hissed Andrew Lennox. “You’ve said quite enough.”
“I didn’t mean…” Sir Toby trailed off miserably.
There was a short silence.
“There’s no need to treat me with kid gloves, you know,” said Jack. “In fact, you don’t need to feel sorry for me at all.”
Colonel Masterton leaned forward into the light and stared hard at his friend. “So…” he said on a long note of discovery.
Jack grinned.” You always were as sharp as a razor, Francis.” He found his hand seized and wrung in a powerful grip.
The other two stared in bewilderment.
“What the devil are you two talking about?” said Andrew Lennox. “I can only think of one thing…” He stared hard at Jack, read the truth in his eyes, then he too leapt forward and seized Jack’s hand, pumping it fervently.
“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” complained Sir Toby. “Why is everybody shaking Jack’s hand and what are you all being so damned mysterious about? Found an heiress, Jack, have you?”
The others laughed.
“Well, I’d planned to keep it as a surprise for tomorrow, Tubby, but I can ride again. Of course I’m not quite up to hunting yet, but I will be soon.”
Sir Toby stared, dumbfounded, for a moment, then leapt from his chair, spilling his drink, and seized Jack’s hand, shaking it until Jack thought it would drop off.
“’S marvellous, old man, simply marvellous!” he kept repeating. He glared round at his two friends still seated in their respective chairs. “Don’t you un’erstand, you two idiots? Jack can ride! Ain’t you going to congratulate him?”
The others roared with laughter. When the tumult had died down and a fresh round of drinks had been poured, Francis said to Jack, “I don’t understand. The surgeons swore you’d never ride again, didn’t they?”
“They did. Miss Farleigh disagreed.”
“Miss Farleigh?” said Mr Lennox.
In the next room, Kate froze. Oh, no, no, she prayed silently. Do not tell them; please do not.
“Yes, her brother had been cured of a similar sort of injury by some Eastern doctor,” continued Jack. “She told me her brother regained almost full strength…unfortunately.”
“What?”
Jack explained. “Miss Farleigh lost her father and both her brothers in the war. Her brothers were in the 83rd, I believe. She is now utterly alone in the world, except for my grandmother, who has become her guardian.”
Kate sagged in her seat. The 83rd. She could not have been more clearly identified. If any of them had heard anything of her, their memories would be well and truly jogged now.
