The Lady's Maid (9 page)

Sam winked and tapped the side of his nose. ‘You see what happens when you’re not there to keep an eye on the old man?’

‘I was with Josie at the big house, but I thought Pa had stayed at home.’ Kate stared across the crowded room to where her father and Miss Stamp were now
sitting
side by side at one of the long tables. It was not possible. Pa would simply not be interested in someone like Honoria Stamp. She bit her lip as she remembered Squire Westwood’s suggestion that her father might one day take himself another wife. It must be a coincidence. Surely she could not be the last person to know that there was something going on between them?

‘I was only teasing you, Kate.’ Sam slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘Don’t get all upset. Your pa is just enjoying a bit of female company. You wouldn’t begrudge him that, now would you?’

I would, Kate thought angrily, if that female was a mean old woman like Miss Stamp. Perhaps she put the idea of employing me in the squire’s head just to get me out of the way. Visions of Pa and Miss Stamp walking down the aisle together, living in the farmhouse, sleeping in the bed where her mother had given birth to her, was a waking nightmare. She disliked Honoria, and she was certain that the feeling was mutual.

‘Come.’ Sam held out his hand. ‘Wake up, Kate. You were miles away. Cheer up and forget about old sour-puss. Let’s dance.’

She knew he was right. She was probably making far too much of a mere dalliance. She went onto the floor with Sam and threw herself heart and soul into the country dance. When the music stopped, Sam went to get her a glass of lemonade, and she was sitting on a bale of hay fanning herself when she saw the squire coming towards her. There was no escape, unless she
were
to leap over the bales and join the rowdy young children in their game of blind man’s buff; she had to sit there and wait for him to claim her for the next dance. Luckily, there was very little time to talk as they executed the set figures, and when he led her back to her seat Sam was there waiting for her with a glass of lemonade.

‘Will you honour me with another dance later, Miss Coggins?’

‘Thank you, Squire Westwood; that would be very pleasant.’ Kate sat down, fanning herself vigorously as she accepted the drink from Sam.

‘He has his eye on you, Kate.’ Sam folded his arms across his chest, glowering at the squire’s back as he walked away.

‘Don’t be silly. Of course he hasn’t.’

Sam turned to her, his eyes blazing. ‘A man like him don’t make eyes at a farmer’s daughter with any good intent. I tell you, Kate, he’s up to no good and I’ve a good mind to go over there now and have it out with him.’

Chapter Five

KATE SIPPED THE
cool, sweet drink. She was not going to admit her fears to Sam who was as protective as any elder brother, and might do or say something that would get him into trouble. The squire was a justice of the peace and not the sort of man to cross. She put the glass down and rose to her feet. ‘They’re playing “Grimstock”. Shall we do this one, Sam?’

His scowl dissolved into a smile. ‘I suppose I’d better keep you company, if only to keep the squire at bay.’

As they joined the other couples in the dance, Kate saw to her dismay that her father had led Miss Stamp onto the floor. Somehow, she managed to keep smiling, even when the steps brought them face to face. Honoria, she thought, looked horribly smug – and her neckline was much too low for a woman of her age. The saying ‘mutton dressed as lamb’ came forcibly to mind. That’s what Josie would have said anyway. Kate glanced over Sam’s shoulder as they whirled around in time to the music. It was unusual for Josie to miss the fun. ‘I wonder where she is,’ she murmured, speaking her thoughts out loud.

Sam missed a step, staring at her with a puzzled frown. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Josie, of course. I thought she would be here by now.’

He pulled a face. ‘I was going to tell you but I forgot. I saw Sir Hector arriving at the Manor earlier today, with a couple of carriages following on behind. It looks as if the Damerells are having a house party. I expect Josie’s got to stay at home and try to behave like a lady.’ He grinned. ‘That won’t suit her one bit.’

‘Oh, heavens. Why didn’t you tell me that before? I’ve been waiting for her all evening.’

‘It’s not over yet. Maybe she’ll turn up. You know Josie.’

Kate sighed. ‘Indeed I do.’ Unpredictable, unreliable and totally unrepentant for any upsets that she caused was the way in which Josie whirled through life like a dancing dervish. They were exact opposites in looks, character and upbringing, but there was an invisible silken cord that seemed to bind them together, and Kate had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong.

‘Don’t look so worried, maidy,’ Sam said as the dance ended to a round of vigorous applause. ‘She’ll turn up like the proverbial bad penny. Let’s get a drink; I’m parched.’

‘Yes, so am I.’ Kate slipped her hand into his and they strolled over to the trestle table laid out with the punchbowl and flagons of cider. She sipped a cooling glass of fruit cup while Sam drained a mug of farmhouse cider in several thirsty gulps. The band had struck up again and couples had thrown themselves heart and soul into a lively jig when suddenly the barn doors were flung open. There was a sudden hush
as
the musicians stopped playing and the dancers froze to the spot. Sir Hector entered with his wife on his arm, followed by a glittering entourage. A gasp of admiration rippled round the barn.

Kate could hardly believe her eyes when Josie, resplendent in shimmering ivory satin with ropes of pearls around her neck and pearl drops hanging from her earlobes, swanned in on the arm of Harry Challenor. If she had arrived hand in hand with a royal prince, Kate could not have been more astonished. Behind them were two more couples who were strangers to her, with Mrs Wardle dressed in her customary widow’s weeds bringing up the rear. She had a smug smile on her face which made Kate cringe inwardly. What, she wondered, had they done to Josie to make her comply with her parents’ wishes? She could not wait to find out.

Sir Hector paused, holding up his hand. ‘Good evening, everyone. Please continue with the festivities.’

Parson Daleymount rushed over to him, followed by his prim little wife. ‘How kind of you to grace our harvest supper, Sir Hector. May I offer you some refreshment?’

Sir Hector shook his head. ‘Thank you, no. We’ve just dined, but I’m sure the younger members of our party would like to dance.’ He shot a stern look at Josie who smiled up at Harry Challenor and laid her hand on his arm.

‘Play “Sir Roger de Coverley”,’ Josie said with an imperious wave of her hand.

There was a subdued murmur from the band, and
when
the fiddler, who was both conductor and leader of the quartet, started off the music the others were quick to join in. Harry led Josie into the centre of the floor and the other couples obligingly followed suit.

‘Blow me tight,’ Sam muttered. ‘Who’s that toff, Kate? D’you know him?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact I do. It’s Harry Challenor, and I thought she hated him.’

‘It don’t look like it.’ Sam thumped the mug back on the table. ‘Come on, Kate. We’ll show ‘em we ain’t got straw growing out of our ears.’ He grabbed her by the hand and before she had a chance to argue she found herself next to Josie standing in line opposite their partners.

‘What’s going on?’ Kate whispered.

Josie tossed her head. ‘A girl can change her mind.’

‘But I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of him.’

‘None of your business.’ Josie launched herself into the dance with a fixed smile on her face.

They had executed several turns before Kate had a chance to speak to her again. ‘Why is he here? And why are you flirting with him?’

Josie’s smile wavered for a second and her dark eyes flashed angrily. ‘Shut up, Kate. Mind your own business.’

The music ended and the couples went their separate ways. The villagers were automatically consigned to the end of the barn where the children sat on the bales of hay keeping as close to the food as possible. The party from the big house clustered together, taking seats vacated by the more elderly of the village folk.

Parson Daleymount took the floor, intoning a prayer of thanks for a bountiful harvest, followed by grace and an invitation to the company to partake of the supper which had been set out on the trestle tables. There was a sudden rush for the food. A small mountain of pork pies, together with plates of brawn, glistening with jelly and garnished with handfuls of parsley sat side by side with harvest loaves, shaped like stooks of corn. A wheel of Cheddar cheese and another of Blue Vinney were soon attacked and consumed with pickled onions and a variety of chutneys. Apple cake, seed cake and bowls of frumenty tempted those with a sweet tooth and all was washed down with cider, ale and fruit cup. Sir Hector had a crate of champagne sent down from the big house, but that was reserved for his guests and sipped from cut-crystal glasses.

Kate saw with some consternation that Josie was imbibing rather too freely; her cheeks were flushed, her eyes over-bright and her laughter a little too loud. The other ladies in the party sat with their hands folded in their laps, eyeing the frolics of the locals as if watching wild animals at the zoo. She turned with a start as Sam nudged her gently. ‘Look at Josie. She’s making a spectacle of herself. I can see the gossips with their heads together. She’ll become a laughing stock if she ain’t careful.’

‘She’s just enjoying herself.’ Loyal to the last, Kate could not bring herself to agree with him even if in her heart she knew he was right. ‘Why don’t you ask the band to strike up another tune, Sam? What about “The Barley Mow”? That always goes down well.’

Somewhat reluctantly, Sam went over to the musicians and after a few words and much nodding of heads they struck up again. Kate was watching Sam warily, half afraid that he would march up to Josie and give her a piece of his mind. She only became aware that someone was standing at her elbow when he cleared his throat.

‘Miss Nobody. I thought it was you but I couldn’t be sure. You look quite different out of that hideous uniform.’

She turned with a start and felt the blood rushing to her cheeks as she met Harry’s smiling gaze. She bobbed a curtsey. ‘I didn’t see you there, sir.’

‘No, your attention was fixed on that angry-looking young man. Is he your intended by any chance?’

She might have laughed if she had not been so embarrassed. ‘Sam is like a brother to me. Not that it’s any business of yours, Mr Challenor. I suggest you return to your party, sir. They’re looking daggers at you.’

He inclined his head. ‘So you can speak for yourself. I thought you were too well trained to answer back.’

She was angry now. It was obvious that he was amusing himself at her expense, and everyone was looking at them. She would never live it down. ‘Go away, please,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You shouldn’t be seen speaking to me.’

‘I was going to ask you for this dance.’

‘Are you mad?’ The words spilled from her lips before she could stop herself. ‘Gentlemen do not associate with village girls.’

‘But I’m not a gentleman,’ he said, chuckling. ‘I am in trade. The landed gentry look down on men like me.’

‘Please go away. Everyone is looking at us, and I’m in enough trouble with the Damerells as it is. I don’t want to make things worse for Josie.’

‘I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, Miss Nobody.’

‘Stop calling me that silly name and leave me alone.’ Her patience was almost at an end.

Harry inclined his head. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’ He strolled off to rejoin his party.

Sam threaded his way through the dancers, arriving at Kate’s side with an expression on his face that would have made a thundercloud look benevolent. ‘What’s he been saying to you?’

She shook her head. ‘I really don’t know what that was all about. He asked me to dance and I refused. Then he apologised and walked away. That was all.’

Sam fisted his hands. ‘Men like him and the squire all think that village girls are there for their own amusement. He’d better not bother you again.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. It wasn’t like that at all.’

‘You’d better tell that to your pa. He’s glaring at you with a look on his face that means trouble.’

Kate turned her head and saw her father about to rise to his feet despite Miss Stamp’s obvious entreaties for him to remain at her side. Kate slipped her hand through the crook of Sam’s arm. ‘Let’s dance. Perhaps that woman can take his mind off what he thinks he just saw.’

Somewhat reluctantly Sam led her into the midst of
the
swirling couples who were performing a lively polka, but when the music stopped it was not Robert who came storming towards Kate, but Josie. She was swaying on her feet and obviously more than a little drunk.

‘Keep your hands off Challenor,’ she hissed, grabbing Kate by the arm. ‘I’ve changed my mind and I’m going to marry him. It’s the only way I’ll ever get away from this damned village.’

‘Josie. You don’t know what you’re saying.’ Kate pulled free from her grasp, causing Josie to stumble. She would have fallen if Sam had not stepped in and steadied her.

‘You’re drunk,’ he said angrily. ‘You’re making a show of yourself, Josie.’

Regaining her balance, she drew herself up to her full height and slapped him across the face. ‘Don’t touch me, you peasant.’

‘Josephine.’ Sir Hector’s stentorian tones rang out amongst the rafters and once again there was silence.

Josie flexed her fingers, eyeing her father with a rebellious tilt of her chin. ‘I want to dance.’ She signalled to the musicians. ‘I want to waltz. Harry, dance with me.’

He stepped forward, proffering his arm. ‘Perhaps a breath of fresh air might be more beneficial, Josie. Shall we go for a walk?’

‘Yes. Capital idea. Take her home, my boy.’ Sir Hector nodded with approval. ‘Come, my dear,’ he said, taking his wife’s hand. ‘I think it’s time for all of us to go and leave these good people to enjoy
the
rest of the evening.’ He acknowledged Parson Daleymount with a nod of his head. ‘Good evening, parson. Splendid effort.’ With his wife on his arm he followed Harry and Josie outside, with the rest of the party following at a more leisurely pace.