Roses and Champagne. Бетти Нилс

her, she’ll make James get a special licence and expect a slap-up wedding in about ten days’ time.’

      He took her arm and went into the hall. ‘Lock up after me,’ he warned her, and went out of the door to the car.

      Katrina shut the bolts and turned the key, her head a muddle of weddings, engagements and Lucius’s arrogance in taking it for granted that she wanted to marry him. She tumbled into bed presently, all these problems swept away by the enormous one of how to arrange a big wedding in a matter of days. Ten days, Lucius had said, and from experience she knew that he was almost always right.

      CHAPTER THREE

      WHEN KATRINA went down to breakfast the next morning, Lovelace met her in the hall with the information that Miss Virginia was having her breakfast in bed as she had had a bad night so Katrina shared hers with the ever faithful Bouncer, then went back upstairs and tapped on her sister’s door.

      Virginia was sitting up in bed, her breakfast tray beside her, reading a magazine. She looked up as Katrina went in, then bent her head over its glossy pages again.

      Katrina took the magazine from her and sat down on the edge of the bed. She asked: ‘When were you planning to get married, Virginia?’

      ‘Soon—before Christmas, though I can’t see what business it is of yours.’ She snatched the magazine back, looking sulky.

      ‘Well, I supposed you’d want a pretty wedding, and that will take some organising. Invitations and bridesmaids and so on…’

      ‘Don’t you mind if I get married and you don’t?’

      ‘Well, no, I don’t think so—why should I? I don’t want to marry James.’ Katrina paused. ‘You’re sure, Virginia?—it’s only a few days ago since you thought you wanted to marry Lucius.’

      She didn’t give her sister time to answer. Virginia’s hands had curled round the magazine, her eyes blazing, and Katrina remembered that Lucius had told her to wait until he was there, and she suddenly wished he was. She got up and went out of the room, and the magazine thudded on the door as she was closing it behind her.

      She’d been a fool to try and talk to Virginia. She was shaking a little as she went downstairs and set about her normal chores, first to Mrs Beecham to let her know that Lucius would be there for lunch, then out into the garden with Bouncer to find old John and coax him to let her have some of the Doyenne du Comice pears he had been picking with such care. They were a crop that he tended with pleasure and pride and each autumn he tended to hand them out in a miserly fashion. But this morning he was in a generous mood, and when Katrina explained that Mr Massey was coming to lunch and might enjoy one, he presented her with a small basket of the fruit.

      ‘That old Pritchard down at Stockley House, ‘e don’t know a good pear when he sees ‘un, though ‘e’s got a good eye for a grape.’

      Katrina perched on a pile of wooden boxes, took an apple from one of the trays and prepared for half an hour’s conversation with the old man. It was only the appearance of the gardener’s boy with a jug of tea for old John that sent her on her way, this time to the stables.