Lessons In Loving (15 page)

‘Tell me, is there a place nearby where a very thirsty girl can find a drink?'

‘Indeed. Let me escort you to the Squatters Arms.' Kate had noticed the little pub a short walk away, discerned that it had a ladies' parlour—unusual for Sydney pubs, but appropriate in this upper-crust suburb. As they sat over their sherries on a secluded verandah, Prudence raised a questioning hand.

‘The Barrington-Smythes visiting Australia.' She sipped her sherry. ‘Never thought I'd see it. They're so Establishment. And Australia's so Johnny-come-lately.'

‘In Australia, Tom's Old Money,' Kate volunteered. ‘But now I've met the lady Tom has dreamed about all the time I've known him, I rather wonder about—things.'

‘It will be interesting to see what happens in this Kenilworth place,' Prudence continued. ‘Tell me, what's it like?'

‘Well. I've never visited Britain,' Kate said. ‘But I've flicked through enough picture books of Olde England to give me some idea of the place. And Kenilworth is the exact opposite.' She copied Prudence's sip from her glass, tasted her own sherry, decided she liked it. ‘Kenilworth is vast. Endless thousands of acres. When one stands on the verandah of the stately mansion, and takes in the distant hills, it's fascinating to realise that as far as a body can see, all those hills fading into the purple distance are part of Kenilworth.'

‘Mmm. I wonder what Laetitia will make of that?'

‘So do I. And I'll hazard a guess that Tom does too.'

***

In the small hours, Kate woke. The pleasant outing with friendly Prudence had served her brain a tasty dollop of socialising, a treat she hadn't experienced in a while. Now she simply could not sleep. What could she do to escape this wakefulness? She left her bed and walked to the end of the passage, stepped out into the little garden overlooking the lane. The waning moon eased out from behind a cloud. She saw a bench in the garden, walked to it, and sat.

A hansom cab pulled up on the street corner. As Kate peered through the bushes, she saw an elegantly dressed woman—it could only be Laetitia—step out from one side. The moonlight caught her pale silk dress. Her skirt swirled prettily as she walked away from the cab. The other passenger—a tall man wearing a dark suit—joined her. The cab trundled away.

For a long time, the couple stood still, holding hands. Kate stared at the man as he stood in the poor light. Yes, it was Tom. Slowly, he turned to face Laetitia. They enfolded each other. Then he lowered his face to hers. The kiss lasted, lasted … In the next minute, they'd walk up the stairs, along the hall. Kate knew well enough that Tom would have assigned Laetitia's parents rooms that offered opportunity for a modicum of parental supervision if they so wished. But it was late. They would be sound asleep. What words would Tom be breathing into Laetitia's ear?

CHAPTER 11

Kate had seen the very thing she'd hoped not to see. So Tom and Laetitia were quite likely in love, reunited after a long, painful separation. Now the deep, instinctive female part of her, that had slowly, sneakily made her fall in love with Tom, must pay for that stupidity with pain. The pain might last for the rest of Kate's life.

She snapped the curtains shut and fell onto her bed. Daylight came, and she hadn't achieved a wink of sleep. She dragged herself to the breakfast room at nine o'clock, as they'd agreed the night before.

‘Morning, Kate,' Tom called from his table. He looked freshly scrubbed and happy. So a night in the arms of his intended had revitalised him. ‘We're taking a train to the Blue Mountains today. To see the sights. Like to come?'

‘I'm rather tired, actually,' she said. ‘I'd prefer to—'

‘Hold on,' he said. ‘You told me you loved the Blue Mountains. Loved the mountain air, the forests.'

‘Indeed. But I'd better catch up on my sleep.' Kate would rather crawl over a mile of broken glass than travel in a carriage with the loving couple. After what had happened last night, they very likely wouldn't be able to keep their hands off each other. Kate didn't need that—not on top of the tetchiness taking over her body and her mind like a disease.

‘You do look a bit peaky, now I take a closer look,' Tom said. ‘Not getting your sleep?'

‘Yeah,' she groaned, wanting to curl up and die. If Tom had noticed her tiredness, then it must be much too obvious.

‘Steady on. Guess who said the naughty ‘Yeah' word?' Tom laughed. ‘Kindly control your language, Miss Governess.'

In her present state, Kate would have cheerfully shoved a sword through Tom's muscled belly. But in the breakfast room, there was no sword within reach.

‘You simply must join us, Kate.' Kenilworth Tom was back in charge. ‘Prudence will be coming.'

So he'd deduced that Kate would be embarrassed to take a train journey with the reunited lovers. When two's company, three is most definitely a crowd. But if Kate shared a seat with Prudence, it might take the edge off her pain. Kate heartily enjoyed the mountains. She might even come by some inspiration for the historical novel she planned to write one day, covering the first white men's crossing of the mountains nearly a hundred years before.

‘Another thing,' Tom kept on. ‘If you give in to your tiredness and go back to bed, you'll likely make your sleeplessness worse come nightfall.' He'd sensed Kate's sagging willpower. The smile in his voice told her he really wanted her to come.

‘Very well,' she mumbled. ‘If I can just—'

‘Wonderful! You'll absolutely love it. May I pour you a cup of tea?'

As Kate dressed for the journey after her failed attempt to eat breakfast, the woman sent to clean the guests' rooms passed on a message from Laetitia.

‘The young ma'am what's in charge of everything asked me to tell you to take your things. In case youse wants to stay in the mountains for a night or two.'

An hour later, Kate joined Laetitia's parents, the young courting couple, and Prudence in the hansom cab and rode with them to Sydney's Central Station.

‘I suggested you ladies bring a little luggage in case we're seduced by a quaint little cottage that offers country weekends for tourists,' Laetitia murmured as she took her seat beside Tom. Why would she want to drag company along on what should have been the long-separated lovers' special moments together? As the cabby waited for a noisy steam tram to cross in front of them, Tom turned to her from his seat.

‘Don't forget, Kate.' His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I'm on trial. And you're on duty. I made a few blunders yesterday, when you weren't there to help me. I think Princess Laetitia noticed. I don't want to get on her wrong side, if you understand. Not so early in her visit.'

‘Very well,' she whispered back. The steam tram moved on and the hansom cab continued on its way to the station.

***

They reached Katoomba, hub of the Blue Mountains. Tom hired a hansom cab for the day and asked the cabby to take them on a tour of the sights. Kate loved the spiky prominence of The Three Sisters, the bottomless valleys that beckoned from the scenic lookouts. What would have passed through the minds of the first explorers as they stood on the very spot the party now occupied? They lunched at a forgettable café. Kate hardly noticed. She let herself melt into the ambience of the magnificent mountains. Her novel, if she ever started to write it, would indeed be the richer for the day's experiences.

Soon the party decided to move on. They boarded the waiting cab. The driver flicked the reins and the horse strolled on. Soon they reached the nearby village of Blackheath.

‘I say!' Tom said, pointing. ‘Look at that. Thatched roof and all. Part of an English fairytale. Whoa there, cabby. That sign?' The cab stopped.

‘Perfect!' Laetitia beamed. ‘I was dreaming we'd be able to spend a chummy weekend together. Six of us in a cosy little cottage. We can take morning walks, play cards. And ladies, we might choose to soak in the spa for an hour or two before bedtime.'

Chummy weekend? Where would Laetitia's weird notions end? Kate wondered again why Tom's sweetheart, newly reunited with him after months of separation, would want anything other than loving privacy. What strange chemistry must be fermenting between the couple? Tom turned to stare at his sweetheart, eyebrows raised. Like Kate, it seemed Tom was struggling to cope with the sudden change in Laetitia's character.

‘Very well,' he said in a voice that flagged confusion. Perhaps he'd decided to capitalise on the moment. ‘I'll go inside. Take a look.' He returned in a few minutes.

‘We're booked. The whole place to ourselves.' He helped Laetitia down. ‘Apologies, Prudence and Kate. If you two don't mind sharing what used to be the servants' quarters? They've been fully refurbished, so the landlady informs me. With all the bits and pieces you could ever need.'

‘Thank you,' Prudence and Kate chorused.

The friendly landlady showed the two women to their modest but comfortable two-bedroom chambers.

‘I do hope you'll have a relaxing weekend, ladies. Would you like a walk before dinner?' She handed them a map. ‘There's a pretty millpond just over the first hill.'

As they unpacked, Kate spoke to Prudence.

‘I seem to have rather misread Laetitia,' she said. ‘The night after you arrived in Sydney, she was so cold. Steely hard, even. I began to think—'

‘Indeed.' Prudence chuckled. ‘She's suddenly transformed from one of Macbeth's witches to Princess Sugarplum.'

‘Is that her way?'

‘Hardly. I've been her secretary for a couple of years now. She's driven, demanding. Very, very particular. Most of the time, she wears her to-the-manor-born cloak.' Prudence spread her hands, rolled her eyes. ‘You saw her wearing it last night when you arrived. But today, I can hardly believe what I see and hear.'

‘Perhaps Prince Charming has worked his magic on her?' Kate offered, laughing to show that she read Laetitia's overnight change of mood as lightweight comedy. Perhaps the kissing moment in the lane that Kate had spied the night before had broken the ice. What woman could resist a kiss from Tom? Kate knew all too well that he'd been waiting for months for some sweet moments in private with the woman he loved.

The pain of lost love jerked at Kate's heartstrings again. If only she hadn't seen that kiss. Would she ever manage to have a sound night's sleep again? Would she ever catch sight of Tom without revisiting her pain? Would she ever forget the night he'd kissed her as he gently laid her on her bed after the ball, thinking she was in a drugged sleep?

When Kate had seen Tom and Laetitia kiss the night before, she'd concluded that the couple's love, perhaps withering on the vine over the past months of separation, had burst into bloom again, nourished by the sweet wine of their reunion. Very likely, that was the magic potion that had switched Laetitia's mood from grey to glowing gold. The vision of Tom's questing hands caressing Laetitia's arms, her shoulders, her waist, now became a red-hot knife hacking into Kate's soul.

In their last days at Kenilworth, Kate had actually let herself admit that she liked Tom a lot. Indeed, she might even love him. How stupid she'd been to let her primal instincts trample over her common sense. But that was the way the world had worked since time began. Lone man meets lone woman in a lonely place. They spend time in each other's company. Simple biology requires that the woman and the man fall in love, beget many children.

As Kate wafted into her reminiscences, she saw that her feelings for Tom had crept up on her over a string of innocent encounters. His manly smile as he stepped into the study for his lessons on sunny afternoons, still in his dusty work clothes. The times he'd ushered her onto the verandah for a glass of Madeira before dinner, looking into her eyes as they clinked glasses. The moments their hands brushed as they both reached for the same table napkin.

Night after night, she'd relived their time at the Pioneers' Ball. Now, yet again, she revisited every precious moment of that evening, from the way Tom took her hand to lead her onto the ballroom floor, to her cheek pressing against the warmth of his chest as they danced. As the minutes passed, she paid the price, in grinding pain, for those magic moments.

‘Some rather powerful magic has happened,' Prudence said as she met up with Kate for their walk before dinner. ‘Laetitia has other men visiting from time to time, but I've never seen anything like this.'

Kate shrank into herself. It was time to remind her wicked instincts to behave themselves. Whenever she talked with Prudence, she absolutely must button her lip about her feelings for Tom. She'd known, from the moment he explained why he needed a governess, that he'd given his heart to Laetitia.

Later, as they planned the excursion to Sydney, a part of her had warned her to be on her guard. She must expect that Tom would be head-over-heels for his fine lady the moment they fell into each other's arms. It had all happened according to the script. But Kate had never realised until now that her pain would cut this deep. For the thousandth time, she ordered herself to get over it. She must, must, must, forget Tom's stolen kiss, forget the heart-opening moment she'd caught him playing Beethoven naked at dawn, forget all the other accidental sweetnesses they'd shared.

‘You seem a little down,' Prudence said, looking up from the clothes she'd spread on her bed. ‘We should take our walk now. Breathe a little healthy country air before we head into the village for dinner.'

‘Indeed, I'd rather enjoy that.'

Taking the landlady's map, they followed a winding path through the green fields. As they walked, Kate sensed that Prudence had decided to adopt her as an assignment, aim to cheer up her confused, always-tired colleague.