A Safe Harbour (27 page)

Read A Safe Harbour Online

Authors: Benita Brown

Tags: #Technology & Engineering, #Sagas, #Fisheries & Aquaculture, #Fiction

BOOK: A Safe Harbour
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Her friend’s look was so bleak that Kate resolved to have a word with her brother as soon as possible and urge him to set his sweetheart’s mind at rest. Good man though he was, he didn’t always think it necessary to explain things, to let other folk know what he was thinking. She realized how infuriating this must be for a girl like Jane.
 
‘Why are you smiling?’ Jane asked.
 
‘Oh, nothing.’
 
‘Kate!’
 
‘All right. I was thinking what a fine pair you will make, you and my brother. And what a handsome couple on your wedding day. Have you planned your wedding dress?’
 
Jane smiled. ‘Oh, yes. It’s . . .’ She stopped and shot Kate a look of dismay.
 
‘What is it?’
 
‘Kate, I was going to tell you this . . . ask you if you’d mind . . . but I thought I would adapt the dress I made for . . . for . . .’
 
‘For my wedding to Jos?’
 
‘Yes.’
 
‘My wedding dress?’
 
‘Oh, no! Not that! The dress I was going to wear as your bridesmaid. I might add a train, but apart from that it wouldn’t take much work. I have some new lace and some seed pearls – oh, Kate, do you mind?’
 
‘Of course not.’ They stared at each other and Kate realized that they both had tears in their eyes. ‘So long as you will do whatever it takes to turn my gown into a bridesmaid’s. You are planning to ask me to be your bridesmaid, I hope?’
 
‘How could you doubt it?’ Suddenly Jane reached up and took Kate’s face in her hands, drawing it down so that she could kiss her brow. ‘I must go,’ she said. ‘Mrs Coulson has more calls to make today. She’s visiting people who might be helpful to her husband in his attempt to enter politics.’
 
‘Politics, eh? My, what a grand world you move in!’
 
‘Don’t I just!’
 
The two girls grinned at each other and Jane turned and hurried up the steps of the house to be let in by the same maidservant, who didn’t look too pleased and sniffed audibly.
 
Kate stood for a moment after the door closed behind her friend. She had just told Jane that she was lucky to have William. William was ‘a good catch’ as the girls in the village all knew. He was a fine figure of a man and handsome. He was also hardworking, intelligent and honest. And, in spite of his fiery red hair, he did not seem to have inherited their father’s quick temper – as Kate herself and Thomas had, she acknowledged ruefully.
 
But, in her heart, she knew that William was lucky, too. Jane would make him a good wife. She was beautiful, elegant and clever – and as hardworking as William was. Surely, together they would prosper. Kate hoped their wedding day would not be long delayed.
 
And then she realized as she began to walk away that she had a very specific reason for wanting this wedding to be soon. If they don’t get on with it, she thought, Jane will have to be a true expert with the needle to adapt my gown to disguise my condition. I don’t suppose either she or my brother would want to be disgraced by a pregnant bridesmaid!
 
 
‘I think we’ve earned ourselves a cup of tea, what do you think, Betsy?’
 
‘What do
I
think, Mr Howard?’
 
‘Yes, you, child.’
 
‘You want me to go down and make tea?’
 
‘Yes please.’
 
‘Then why didn’t you say so?’
 
Howard smiled. ‘Quite right. Please, Betsy, would you go down and make a pot of tea for us? We’ll be down in a minute.’
 
Betsy scrambled up from her customary place on the assortment of old cushions and hurried downstairs. Kate stretched her aching limbs and relaxed her pose. She had been surprised to find that standing still could be so tiring. The thought crossed her mind that lifting her creel and walking for miles with it was less tiring than posing for an artist.
 
‘Don’t you mind Betsy talking to you like that?’ she asked Howard as she eased her shoulders.
 
‘Not at all. I find her delightful.’
 
‘Some would say she was impertinent.’
 
‘Because she says what she thinks?’
 
‘Well, yes.’
 
‘But don’t you see, she’s not being rude or cheeky. It’s the way her mind works.’
 
‘Poor Betsy.’
 
‘Why do you say that?’
 
Kate looked at him in surprise. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Her mind . . . well, her mind doesn’t work as well as other people’s, does it?’
 
‘It doesn’t work the same way, certainly. But who are we to say that it’s inferior? In many ways Betsy is much more straightforward than the rest of us. Her reasoning process follows a direct path. She sees no point in not saying exactly what she means.’
 
‘You’re very patient with her.’
 
‘Why shouldn’t I be?’
 
‘Not everyone is.’
 
Howard’s face clouded. ‘I know. I think sometimes she is beaten because she doesn’t behave as her family think she should. They don’t know what to do with her. That’s why I’m glad I can give her gainful employment here with you – and that you allow her to spend some time with you at home.’
 
‘What will she do when this portrait is finished?’
 
‘I’ll ask her to help with my next sitter. But after I go back to Boston I don’t know what will happen to her. Unless . . .’
 
‘What?’
 
‘Unless you could find something for her to do. She loves to help you.’
 
‘But I won’t . . . I mean, I couldn’t pay her anything.’
 
‘I don’t suppose she’d mind. She’d be happy just to spend the time with you rather than being at home. What about it, Kate?’
 
‘I . . . I don’t know.’
 
Kate couldn’t tell him that she might be going to America, too, as soon as her aunt’s letter came. She could see he was disappointed.
 
‘I know another solution to the problem,’ he said.
 
‘What’s that?’
 
‘I could take you both back to America with me.’
 
‘That’s impossible.’
 
‘Why?’
 
‘Your family – your mother – what would you tell your family?’
 
‘I’d say, “Mother, Father, I’d like you to meet my wife, Kate, and this little person is her friend and maidservant.” 
 
Kate began to laugh at the joke but when she saw Howard’s expression she stopped. She realized that he was in earnest.
 
‘Your wife?’
 
‘Don’t sound so amazed – or is that alarm I see in your eyes? I’d make a very good husband, I assure you. I work hard, I’ve achieved a modicum of success; you won’t starve, Kate. And furthermore, I’ve fallen in love with you.’
 
Kate stared at him in consternation. ‘Please don’t say that.’
 
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t know.’
 
‘I had no idea.’
 
But even as she spoke Kate wondered if that was true. Since she had been coming here to pose they had fallen into a way of talking and laughing together like old friends. As far as she was concerned, the friendship had begun that night in Belle Vue Cottage when Howard had saved her from her father’s wrath. She remembered sitting by the fire with him afterwards and feeling completely at ease. And she remembered how reluctant Howard had seemed to leave . . .
 
‘Howard,’ she said hesitantly, ‘I thought we were friends.’
 
‘Of course we are, and that makes falling in love even more wonderful.’
 
She knew she ought to have been aware that his feelings for her were changing, deepening. Perhaps she had been, but she had been unwilling to admit it because it was not what she wanted.
 
‘But I don’t . . . I don’t . . .’
 
‘Love me?’ He finished the sentence for her. ‘Well, I admit that I’m disappointed, but I could teach you to love me, I’m sure of it. Marry me, Kate. Give me the chance to make you happy.’ He took her hand and raised it to his lips.
 
Kate looked at his bent head as he kissed her upturned hand. This gesture should have stirred her senses but it only convinced her all the more that she could never love Howard in the way a woman should love a man if she were going to marry him.
 
Nevertheless, the intimacy of the moment allowed the image of another man to take her by surprise. Hastily she snatched her hand away and tried to suppress the thought of how she would react if it was Richard Adamson instead of Howard who had just pressed kisses into her palm.
 
Howard could not have guessed her thoughts. He straightened up. ‘I’m sorry. I may have spoken too soon. But at least you know how I feel.’ He smiled and Kate saw that somehow the smile made him look vulnerable. ‘I will not speak of this again until your portrait is finished,’ he said. ‘All I ask is that you consider my proposal. Will you promise me that, Kate? Will you think about it?’
 
‘I will.’
 
She made the promise but she knew what her answer would be, would always be. And she felt sad for him. She hoped this wouldn’t affect their friendship. But it seemed she did not need to worry.
 
‘Would you like to see the portrait before we go down?’ he asked. The tone of his voice and his manner had changed completely, as he had promised they would.
 
‘I thought I wasn’t allowed to?’
 
‘That was just in the very first stages. People expect too much and they are often disappointed. It’s still pretty rough – but you will be able to see what I intend.’
 
Kate walked over to the easel, not daring at first to look at the painting. She knew if she showed the slightest hint of disappointment, Howard would be deeply hurt. She allowed him to position her in front of the canvas.
 
‘You would see it better if you opened your eyes, Kate.’
 
‘Oh, of course. It’s just that I’m nervous.’
 
‘Well, so am I. Now please open your eyes and look.’
 
Kate did so and what she saw took her breath away. She could see that the painting was in its early stages and yet every line of the girl’s body depicted anguish and tension as she looked out to sea from Bank Top. The girl . . . was it really her? The fine-boned face – still unfinished; the hair lifting slightly in the breeze as Howard had said he would paint it. All the light in the painting’s sky seemed to be reflected in that hair.
 
‘Well?’ Howard asked.
 
‘Do I really look like that?’
 
‘No, you are more beautiful. This doesn’t do you justice – although I will endeavour to improve it. I wish I had time to paint another portrait of you, Kate, and another, and another. I think I would never tire of painting you.’
 
‘The tea’s getting cold,’ someone said from the doorway and they turned to find Betsy standing there. She looked cross.
 
‘I’m sorry. We’ll come down now,’ Howard said.
 
‘No don’t,’ the girl told him. ‘I’ll hev to make another pot anyway. You’ve got visitors.’
 
‘Visitors?’
 
‘Aye, two of them. It’s Mr Adamson and his lady friend. They want to come up but I telt them to wait until I’d asked you.’
 
Chapter Twelve
 
‘My goodness, Howard, the child guards you as fiercely as Cerberus was said to guard the gates of Hades!’
 
The dark-haired young woman who had swept into the studio ahead of Richard Adamson looked even more beautiful, if that were possible, than the first time Kate had seen her. Her cherry-red jacket of rich velvet was nipped in at the waist and her grey skirt hugged her slim hips before flaring gently and smoothly to the floor. Her dark hair was piled up in glossy coils that flattered the shape of her head and a hat that Kate’s mother would have called ‘a daft bit of nonsense’ was perched on top. Earrings that looked like diamonds glittered when she moved her head.
 
Kate was suddenly conscious of her own workaday clothes. The skirt with its tucked hemline fell to just above the ankles so that her sturdy unfashionable shoes were plain to see. Her hair, which Howard had insisted must hang free, looked slightly windblown. Howard had asked her not to tame it too vigorously. And as for the young woman’s hands inside the kid gloves as smooth as a second skin, Kate was certain they would not be reddened and work-roughened like her own. She found herself thrusting her hands deep into the pockets of her skirt and then a moment later wished she hadn’t.
 
‘Caroline, I’d like you to meet my model, Miss Kate Lawson,’ Howard said. ‘Kate, this is Miss Caroline Travers.’
 
Kate realized this was a formal introduction and she pulled her hands out of her pockets quickly as she came forward to shake hands. She needn’t have bothered. Caroline Travers merely glanced at her with an unfocused smile before turning her attention back to Howard. Kate stood for a moment debating with herself whether she ought to thrust her hand towards the young woman and say ‘How do you do’ very loudly, but she decided that, if she did, it would probably be she herself who was left looking foolish.
 

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