whose company she had very much enjoyed on the evening of the party. She was pleased too that the rain had ceased and the afternoon had been blessed thus far with brief glimpses of an early February sun. She was not, however, precisely overjoyed at being denied the opportunity to make this perfectly respectable visit unaccompanied.
Bridie had taken it upon herself to follow her out to the carriage and had plumped herself down on the seat opposite, that mulish expression Katherine had glimpsed so often in the past taking possession of the homely features.
Katherine turned her head to stare out of the window, lest her own expression betray the mingled resentment and annoyance rippling through her. These were feelings she had experienced increasingly during these past twelve months. Augusta Fairchild might have been an irascible old lady, sharp tongued, and not disposed to consider the feelings of others, but she had not been bound by convention, and had allowed Katherine freedom to do more or less as she pleased. Since her aunt’s demise, however, Katherine had discovered that treasured independence, which one might reasonably have expected to increase now that she had become mistress of her own establishment, had been gradually curtailed by the two females whom she employed.
And it was utterly ridiculous! She inwardly fumed, resolved to do something soon about her far from idyllic domestic situation. These past two weeks in Hampshire had, if nothing else, shown her that one attained far more freedom from living in the country. Weather permitting, she had gone for a walk, sometimes accompanied by her cousin Caroline, and sometimes alone. It was true that on the occasion they had visited the local town they had taken the little housemaid with them. Yet Katherine had hardly known the servant was there. Walking a few paces behind, the maid had barely uttered a word, and had merely carried the few purchases both Katherine and Caroline had made back to the carriage.
How different from the life she had led in Bath! Not once since her great-aunt’s demise had she visited the fashionable shops without having to suffer Mountjoy’s incessant prattling, as she scurried alongside like a timid mouse. Always eager to please, poor Mountjoy more often than not had only succeeded in irritating her so much that Katherine had come perilously close on numerous occasions to releasing her pent-up frustrations by administering a sound box round the ears, and only the promise she had made to her aunt had checked the words of instant dismissal she so longed to utter.
Smothering a sigh, Katherine turned her attention to the woman in the seat opposite. Even if she did manage to resolve the problem of her less than ideal companion, there still remained the even greater dilemma of what to do about the woman who had taken such loving care of her throughout her life. Although she had never been afraid to speak her mind where Bridie was concerned, which had resulted in numerous battles of will over the years, and many harshly spoken words, not for the world would she deliberately hurt the person to whom she was so genuinely attached. Yet somehow she must find a way of convincing Bridie that her one-time charge was no longer in need of leading-strings, but a young, independent woman, quite capable of making her own decisions and, more importantly, of taking care of herself. And there was no better time to embark on this crusade for total independence than right now!
‘I cannot imagine why you felt the need to accompany me on this journey,’ she remarked in a level tone, determined to deny Bridie the opportunity of accusing her of being in a ‘naughty’ temper, which she so often did when Katherine had taken her to task over something.
The mulish expression returned to the homely face. ‘And who would have taken care of you if I hadn’t come along, may I ask?’
‘My aunt’s groom is more than capable of ensuring that I come to no harm.’
‘Pshaw! The great lummox didn’t even think to provide you with a few necessary comforts,’ Bridie retorted, lovingly tucking the fur-lined rug, which she had carried out to the carriage, more securely about her young mistress’s slender legs. ‘I promised your sainted mother on her deathbed that I would always look after her little girl. And I shan’t go back on my word. Bridie will always be here for you, Miss Kate.’
Oh, dear Lord! Katherine inwardly groaned. Although moved by this touching declaration, she was very well aware that the task ahead of her was going to be far from easy. Yet somehow there had to be a way of convincing Bridie that she was now a capable young woman, and no longer a child in need of constant care and attention.
Determined not to be defeated in her objective, Katherine adopted a different tack, as the coachman drew the well-sprung carriage to a halt before the front entrance of the impressive mansion. ‘As you have taken it upon yourself to play nursemaid, you had better accompany me inside. No doubt you will be invited to take tea with the more senior servants.’ She paused after alighting to cast a cautionary glance over her shoulder. ‘So kindly maintain a guard on that unruly tongue of yours for the duration of our visit.’
Bridie, both surprised and incensed at what she considered to be quite uncalled-for strictures, was denied the opportunity to retaliate by voicing her opinion of her young mistress’s frequently caustic utterances by the prompt appearance of the very correct manservant who admitted them to the house.
‘Sir Giles is expecting you, Miss O’Malley. If you would kindly step this way?’ The butler paused, before leading the way across the chequered hall, to cast a faintly superior glance in Bridie’s direction when she appeared about to follow her mistress. ‘I shall ensure that your maid receives refreshments below stairs.’
Hardening her heart against the hopeful expression in those loving, dark eyes, Katherine swept past the door the butler held open. Only then did she begin to wonder if she had not been a little foolish in not insisting that Bridie remain with her, when she noticed that the book-lined room’s sole occupant was Sir Giles.
Rising immediately from behind the desk, he came forward to take Katherine’s hand briefly in his own. ‘My dear Miss O’Malley. My sister and I were delighted that you were able to accept our invitation,’ he announced, before dismissing his servant with the faintest nod of his head. ‘Come, take a seat by the fire.’
A glimmer of amusement flickered in the baronet’s grey eyes as Katherine hesitated. ‘My dear child, I am old enough to be your father, if not your grandfather. Be assured that my sister will be joining us, once she has returned from her trip to town.’
Feeling rather annoyed with herself for so obviously betraying unease, while at the same time thinking it most strange that Miss Osborne should visit the local town when she had invited a guest to take tea, Katherine seated herself in one of the comfortable chairs by the hearth. It was strange too that the butler had shown her in here. Evidently he had been obeying his master’s instructions. But surely it was more usual to invite guests to take tea in the parlour?
After watching her host move across to a small table on which several decanters stood, Katherine glanced about the room. It was a wholly masculine sanctum, which put her in mind of her grandfather’s library in that charming house in Dorsetshire, the main difference being that this room had a second door, left slightly ajar, which possibly led to a small ante-room.
‘Can I tempt you to a glass of Madeira, my dear?’ Again there was a moment’s hesitation on her part which drew a brief smile to Sir Giles’s lips as he poured out a second glass. ‘You came to take tea and yet your host is attempting to ply you with strong liquor. What sinister motive can there be in that? I hear you asking yourself. You are wise to be cautious, child, for this world of ours holds many sinister pitfalls for the unwary. And I did have a specific reason for wishing to see you alone.’
More intrigued than unnerved by this surprising admission, Katherine accepted the glass held out to her, observing as she did so that those shrewd grey eyes, alert and acutely assessing, were regarding her no less keenly than they had on the evening of the engagement party almost two weeks ago.
‘You have striking colouring, Miss O’Malley,’ he remarked, surprising her still further, as he settled himself in the chair opposite, his gaze never wavering from her face. ‘Inherited from your Irish-born father, I should imagine.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she responded, wondering what he would remark upon next. She was not left to speculate for long.
‘I