A Dinner Of Herbs (66 page)

And Kate, being now the focus of attention, her eyes bright, she said, “No, you’re right, FIorrie. I can’t

abide it, and I’ve thought of a way of putting a stop to it.” And she nodded at her sister as if there was

no one else but themselves at the table; the rest of them waited, some of them even

stopped eating, and

after a moment she said, “Well, the remedy is, for all like-minded women to get together and to dig a

hole big enough to take the stocks, and there, one by one, place in them those lovers of cock fighting and

turn it into a real crowdy main by putting down some of the best fighters. Oh, I forgot to mention the

important thing, I would plaster the gentle men with honey then sprinkle on it plenty of wheat, of a good

quality you know....”

Somebody choked. It was Annie. Mary Ellen had to thump her on the back with one hand

while still

holding her side with the other, the tears of laughter running down her cheeks. After a moment it was

John who said, “I believe you meant that, Kate.”

“Oh, yes, yes, I did, and if I could get a few others of like mind, I would do it.”

They were all on their feet now, the girls clearing the table and still laughing. The men were laughing too,

theirs more subdued and touched not a little with surprise. And it was Gabriel who spoke, saying, “You

know, you sound quite bloodthirsty, Kate.”

And she nodded at him, saying, “Does that surprise you? All females are bloodthirsty.”

“Where did you get the idea, lass?” There was a slight reprimand in Hal’s voice now.

And Kate,

looking at him fully in the face, said, “I don’t know, I must have inherited it. It is old as birth. I only

know that where the female of the animals are concerned, they are more fierce than the male. It’s the

protective instinct in them, I think.”

And with this she unbuttoned the cuffs of her long sleeves and, rolling them up to the elbow and casting a

glance at her mother, she said quietly, “I’ll make a start,” and she went out to the side door that led into

the dairy, leaving Mary Ellen and Hal exchanging glances. It was in both their minds that Kate was trying

to tell them something. But what?

Maggie’s voice turned their attention from each other saying, “That comes from her high-falutin reading.

It was bad enough before when she used to go to the bookshop, but since she’s got her

American

friend.. ,” “Maggie!” Mary Ellen’s voice was sharp, but Maggie came back at her mother, saying, “All

right, all right, Mam. I can open my mouth surely. She’s allowed to say what she likes, why not me?”

“Margaret Roystan!”

She swung round and looked at her father who was holding the latch of the door in his

hand, and he said

quietly but grimly, “Don’t go too far,” and with that he went out. And Maggie, glaring at her mother and

Annie who were standing together, said angrily, “That’s what I mean.

You see, that’s what I mean. Things are changing here now, you can’t open your mouth

before there’s

a clamp put on it. “ And she scraped the last of the fat and bacon rind from a plate,

scattering it over the

wooden table, banged the plate down on top of the stack of others and, lifting them up, marched into the

scullery, leaving Florrie with her head bowed, a cloth in her hand wiping up the mess, and Mary Ellen and

Annie looking at each other, their thoughts needing no expression..

A few minutes later Mary Ellen went into the dairy. She stood at one end of the stone

slab, took a

round of butter and put it under a press that left it engraved with a leaf;

then pushing it to where there were a number of similar ones arranged in rows, she said,

“If this heat

keeps up, we’ll have to float these on the burn, or it’ll be oil we’ll be cartin’ to market the morrow.

Anyway, it’ll be a nice day for a walk over to the little manor. What embroidery are you taking? “

There was a moment of silence before Kate turned from the churn into which she had just poured a

basin of cream and said quietly, “I won’t be going over the day.”

There was another pause before Mary Ellen said, “Oh, Kate, Mrs. Boston will be so

disappointed. You

know how she looks forward to your going.”

“There are three of us go, Mam, not only me, and Mrs. Boston would miss Maggie much

more than me,

because, as you know, Maggie is as good as the newspaper for news and tit bits

Yes, Mary Ellen knew that Maggie’s tongue wagged incessantly when she had an

audience such as Mrs.

Boston, but it wasn’t like Kate to put it that way. She trimmed another round of butter before she said as

casually as she could, “What do you intend to do with yourself then?”

It was a stupid question for she was asking the road she knew, and she knew it deserved the answer she

got, but she was nevertheless hurt when Kate replied, “Mam, you know what I’m going

to do. I’m going

to take the horse and ride out. I’m going to meet my ... my friend.”

Kate now closed her eyes tightly for a moment. She had almost said, love, because her

heart was

overflowing with the word, and beneath her calm exterior there was an urgency that was constantly

sending her body racing over the hill. He had said she was like a goddess, and, as one, she saw herself

taking the hills in leaps outdoing the deer. In fact, her new mind was presenting her with a picture of

herself that she had never seen before, for the simple reason that no one had ever seen her as he had

done. Her bigness, her plainness, had been looked upon as a drawback, even by the

members of her

family who, in their different ways, loved her. At least they all had till recently, but of late Maggie had

turned spiteful.

Her mother was coming towards her, drying her hands on a piece of muslin, and when

she reached her

she said quietly, “What’s happening, Kate? This isn’t like you. We’re mother and

daughter, but we’ve

been friends an’ all for years. As you know, I love the others, but I’ve never been able to talk to them as

I have to you. That’s until recently. In a way, Dad feels the same about you, you’re very special to him.

He’s worried, too, about the change in you.”

“I’m sorry, Mam.” Kate now hung her head.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t hurt either of you for the world. That is my worry, that I should ever hurt you.”

“Why should you worry about that, lass? Nothing you could ever do would upset us. All

we want is

your happiness.”

“Are you sure of that?”

“Why, of course.” Mary Ellen put out her hands and placed them on her daughter’s

shoulders, saying

now, “I can’t understand why you should think otherwise.”

“Mam.”

“Yes, lass?”

There was a pause before Kate said, “There might come a testing time later on. Will you remember

what you’ve said?”

Mary Ellen put her head to one side now and asked, “What are you trying to tell me,

lass?”

“Nothing at the moment, Mam. I only want you to remember that I love you both dearly.”

Mary Ellen now drew her hands from Kate’s shoulders and as they hung limply by her

sides she said,

“You’re thinking of leaving, aren’t you?

You’re going to your father? “

“No! No! Never! Never!”

“No?” Mary Ellen’s face relaxed; then she asked, “Well, what can it be?”

“Mam.” Now it was Kate’s turn to put out her hands and, gripping her mother’s, she said,

“Be patient.

Say nothing, please. Do this for me:

say nothing, not even to Dad. “

“Eh? Oh, Kate, I....”

“Mam, I ask you to do this for me. Just forget for the time being this conversation, will you?”

“If you want it that way, lass, all right.” Mary Ellen inclined her head forward before withdrawing her

hands from Kate’s and walking out of the dairy.

Kate, now turning and gripping the handle of the churn, murmured, “Oh, God, let things come right,”

while at the same time knowing in her heart that she couldn’t have it both ways: she

loved two men and

sooner or later she’d have to make her choice.

“Darling mine, all right, all right, don’t get upset. I can play any game you want. The only thing, sooner

or later it’s bound to come out that I’ve bought the farm. Anyway, forget about that for the moment.

Tell me more about your father. “ They were sitting close together by the side of the little table in the

cottage, and she said, “ I’ve told you all I know’—she put her hand up and touched his cheek ‘except’

she smiled now ‘when I looked at, his big stomach, I thought, Ben must never grow like that. “

“Oh, my dear.” He laughed, lowered his head and bobbed hers gently With it; and now,

their arms

about each other, they kissed once more.

And after a moment, looking into her face, he said, “You know, it would have been a

solution if you had

gone with him, I could have then sailed over to France and there our courting could have been open for

all the world to witness, except that your father would likely have had you posing for his artist friends.”

“Oh, Ben.”

“Don’t say “ Oh, Ben” in that deprecating way. You’ve got to change your way of

thinking about Miss

Kate Roystan, and if you don’t, you’re going to be in for a hard time when you become

Mrs. Fraser

Hamilton, for then I shall dress you as you should be dressed.”

“Indeed! Is my dress so frumpish now that it offends your eye, sir?”

She assumed an indignant pose, and he answering in the same vein said, “I would not say frumpish,

madam. The cloth’—he fingered the sleeve of her print dress ‘is good honest homespun,

but it lacks

colour, and texture. You should always be dressed in velvet or cords in the daytime, silk or satin in the

evening, never taffeta.”

Looking at him critically now, she said quietly, “You seem to have had a lot of

experience.”

“Well, let’s say I’ve never refused an invitation to a ball.” Then his face sobering, he said, “There was a

period when I felt I had just been released from prison and was tasting life for the first time: I rode, I

danced, I drank, until’—he shrugged his shoulders ‘they all became stale. But

nevertheless, I enjoyed

that period while it lasted. And so, madam He again assumed a haughty manner as he

ended,” I am, in a

way, a connoisseur of fashion both American and English, for I spent a month in London before coming

here and attended the theatres almost nightly. “

“And so, sir, you would like me to dress like an actress?”

“Not necessarily, madam. No, not necessarily.”

“May I enlighten you on one point, sir?”

“You may, madam.”

“It is just this: I shall dress the way I like, in what colour I like, in what material I care to choose. If my

attire doesn’t suit you, then I’m afraid, sir, our acquaintance is at an end.” Even as she said the last

words she shuddered inwardly that she should even joke about such a possibility.

She was again in his arms, and now he was laughing into her face, saying, “Woman of

strong will, when I

get you into my tepee, I shall skin your hide for you.”

Laughing she said, “What is a tepee?”

“An Indian tent.”

“I should like to see America.”

“You could come any time, madam, any time. We could leave this very night.”

“And what about the house you have bought?”

“Oh, that could be sold again.”

“Oh, Ben. Ben. “ Her voice was low, her face sad now as she said, “There are mountains of obstacles

between us and....”

There may be mountains and there are obstacles, but they are not between us. Nothing is between us.

We’re together on one side, your family on the other. But, remember this, my dear, there is nothing

between us. “

“Ben. Ben. I can hardly believe this is true. When I ride away I feel that it is for the last time, or when I

am coming over here, I dread that you will have gone.”

“Don’t be silly. That is foolish talk. I’ll never go anywhere without you. During all my life I’ve had to do

a lot of thinking and I know now I am much older than my years and so I can say

assuredly....”

“That is another thing. I ... I am older than you ... fifteen months.”

“Terrible! isn’t it?”

“Some people would say so.”

“Some people, some people. You know, that is some thing I must tell you: I never take

much notice of

what people say; I’ve got to see a thing happening before I can believe it. That’s why when I read

history I always question it, because it’s been written by somebody who wasn’t there,

who has taken the

facts from somebody else who has read about it and who wasn’t there, and you know

there’s no one in

the world who can repeat with their lips the story that they’ve heard through their ears.

Because once it

gets into here’—he tapped his forehead ‘one’s particular train of thought which depends much on one’s

upbringing takes hold of what it hears and presents it through the lips as the eyes of your particular type

of imagination see it.”

Her face was serious now as she said quietly, “Perhaps so. But do you believe what your grandmother

told you happened at Rooklands Farm?”

He dropped his arms from her now and rose from the chair, saying slowly, “Yes, yes, I do believe that,

every word, and that fact worries me and makes nonsense, I suppose, of what I’ve just

said, at least in

part.” He came back quietly with the last four words, repeating, “At least in part, because there is so