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Roses and Champagne
Betty Neels
Mills & Boon presents the complete Betty Neels collection. Timeless tales of heart-warming romance by one of the world’s best-loved romance authors.Will he ever see how she really feels? Katrina has known Lucius Massey all her life, and her childish hero worship has grown into a comfortable, warm friendship. They’re so at ease in their friendship that a pretend engagement to each other to teach Katrina’s selfish sister Virginia a lesson strikes both as a worthwhile but harmless idea.Yet as more and more people congratulate Katrina on her match, a mysterious sadness begins to creep into her heart…



“You walk around, your head in the clouds.”
Lucius laughed softly. “Why do you think of yourself as a staid old woman who’ll never see forty again? You’re twenty-seven and you look ten years younger. And I’m not paying compliments—I know you too well for that.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Katrina, not liking the sound of that laugh.
“Do? Why, call your sister’s bluff. I shall turn my attentions to you, Katie. In due course we shall become engaged, and when you’ve had time to gather together whatever it is that girls gather before they marry, we’ll be wed. Here in Upper Tew.”
For a big man he was very fast on his feet. Before she could gather her wits to answer, he had left her, closing the door very quietly behind him.
Romance readers around the world were sad to note the passing of Betty Neels in June 2001. Her career spanned thirty years, and she continued to write into her ninetieth year. To her millions of fans, Betty epitomized the romance writer, and yet she began writing almost by accident. She had retired from nursing, but her inquiring mind still sought stimulation. Her new career was born when she heard a lady in her local library bemoaning the lack of good romance novels. Betty’s first book, Sister Peters in Amsterdam, was published in 1969, and she eventually completed 134 books. Her novels offer a reassuring warmth that was very much a part of her own personality. She was a wonderful writer, and she will be greatly missed. Her spirit and genuine talent will live on in all her stories.

Roses and Champagne
The Best of Betty Neels


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER ONE
THE WINTRY SUN, shining in through the wide windows, gave the room a false warmth, for there was no fire in the handsome steel grate and there was a decided chill in the air; a chilliness strongly echoed by the two people in the room, facing each other across the handsome Soumak carpet, a young woman with pale brown hair and beautiful brown eyes in an unremarkable face, sitting very upright in a Victorian balloon chair, and a man in his thirties, dark-haired, grey-eyed and with a high-bridged nose which didn’t detract from his good looks. He was a tall, well built man and the armchair he was leaning against creaked as he folded his arms along its back.
‘What a silly girl you’re being, Katrina,’ he observed in a voice tinged with impatience. ‘Anyone would think that it was you whose heart had been broken!’ He grinned at her and she made a small indignant sound.
‘I can find no possible excuse for you…’ she began. She had a nice quiet voice, waspish at the moment though.
‘My dear girl, I’m flattered that you should try to find excuses for me.’
She shot him a furious look, her black brows drawn together in a frown.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she begged crossly. ‘It’s the last thing I’d do. You’ve broken Virginia’s heart…’
He came round the chair and sat down stretching out his long legs in comfort. ‘Now who’s being ridiculous?’ he wanted to know. ‘Virginia hasn’t got a heart, from the moment she could toddle you know as well as I do that she made a point of twisting everyone round her thumb. She did it charmingly too.’ He eyed her thoughtfully. ‘You never did that, Katrina.’
‘Much good it would have done me.’ She was matter-of-fact about it. And then, her voice cold with anger again: ‘She’s in her room, crying…’
She was interrupted: ‘Of course she’s crying—spoilt girls who can’t have their own way always cry. She’ll stop presently.’
‘You’re heartless, Lucius.’ Her eyes searched his face and saw nothing but mockery there. She got to her feet. ‘Will you go away? I don’t want to talk to you—there’s nothing to say anyway.’
He sauntered to the door. ‘Not while you’re in this silly sentimental mood.’ As he went through the door he said: ‘I passed young Lovell on my way here, so Virginia had better repair that broken heart pretty quickly.’
‘You’re unspeakable!’ declared Katrina, and heard him laugh as he shut the door.
She went to a window presently and watched him make his leisurely way across the lawn, taking the short cut to the side gate which would lead him to the stables where Gem, his mare, would be. It was a pity, she thought sadly, that they could no longer be friends. She had a sudden vivid memory of him, a ten-year-old schoolboy sitting his pony patiently holding the leading reins of her own fat Shetland. She had been three years old and Virginia wasn’t even thought of…
And they had stayed friends, and even when Virginia, the spoilt darling of the family had made a threesome, they had neither of them minded; indeed, as the years passed, Lucius and Virginia spent more and more time together, naturally enough, for by then Katrina’s talent for drawing and painting had got her a job illustrating children’s books. Her father had had one of the attics turned into a studio for her and she had worked there contentedly, making a tolerable income for herself, although that was quite unnecessary. But she had been glad of it when her parents were killed in a car accident, for a good deal of money died with them and the pleasant quite large house and its several acres of ground absorbed a lot of the income which was left. All the same, she had contrived very well; Virginia had finished her expensive education, had all the clothes she wanted and ran her own small car. Now at twenty she was the darling of the neighbourhood, as pretty as a picture and taking it for granted that every man she met would fall in love with her. Which, more or less, they did. Katrina, a year earlier, used to Virginia’s constant brief love affairs, but anxious that at nineteen she should turn her hand to something useful, had roped in Lucius. ‘Look,’ she had said, ‘Virginia’s got so many boyfriends she can’t remember their names—I don’t mind, it must be fun,’ just for a moment she had sounded wistful and he had given her a long thoughtful look, ‘but I wondered if she would train for something, meet older men perhaps. What do you think?’
That had been a year ago. He had laughed and agreed and said: ‘I’m an older man, aren’t I? She can start on me. What do you want me to interest her in? Bookkeeping? Or how to run an estate?’
He hadn’t done either thought Katrina sadly, although he was a chartered accountant and Stockley House and its surrounding acres belonged to him. Instead he had given Virginia her head, whirled her up to London to dine and dance and visit theatres, ridden with her almost every day, and although he had never given her a ring, it was a foregone conclusion that it was only a question of Virginia making up her mind between emeralds and rubies.
And now it was all over and Lucius was behaving abominably. Katrina paused to think here; according to Virginia he had behaved abominably and he certainly showed no signs of remorse about that, although she hadn’t actually asked him…Well, what could she have said anyway? Ever since she could remember, he had retired behind an expressionless face if he didn’t want you to know something; he’d worn that face this morning, and she hadn’t dared probe too deep. She sighed; they had known each other for so long, the thought of not having his friendship any more was depressing but what else could she do? Virginia had screamed at her that she would never speak to him again, and it was going to be rather difficult if she was to continue the easy companionship she had known for so long. And she would be disloyal to Virginia too. She herself was to blame anyway—encouraging Virginia to spend so much of her time with Lucius; it was inevitable that she should fall in love with him, even more inevitable that he should fall in love with her, or so one would have supposed. He had certainly indulged Virginia in everything she wanted to do or have, and then last night they had come back from a dance at one of the local houses. Katrina shuddered at the memory. Virginia had been beside herself, her voice shrill and almost hysterical, declaring that she would kill him, kill herself, kill everyone…her heart was broken, she would go into a convent, run away from home, throw herself in the river. She had sobbed and screamed into Katrina’s dressing-gowned shoulder, and Lucius had stood just inside the door and laughed.
‘I’ll never forgive him!’ declared Katrina to the empty room.
The door opened and she turned round to face Mrs Beecham’s rosy round face. ‘Will Mr Lucius be staying to lunch?’ asked that lady, and at Katrina’s forceful no, nodded her head. ‘I thought perhaps he wouldn’t be, and that’s a great pity, because there’s to be a cheese soufflé and mushrooms—he brought ’em over himself, picked ’em this morning.’
‘No mushrooms,’ declared Katrina fiercely; she loved them, but it smacked of giving in to the enemy, ‘and he’s not staying, Mrs Beecham.’
‘Just as well, maybe, Miss Katrina, because there’s Miss Virginia carrying on something shocking up in her room—won’t let Maudie in to clean neither.’
‘I’ll go up,’ said Katrina, and went out of the room, crossed the polished floor of the wide hall and went up the uncarpeted stairs, the treads worn from the countless feet which had used them over a couple of centuries. The landing above was wide as the hall and several doors opened from it. She could hear her sister’s voice as she turned the handle and went into a room in the front of the house.
Virginia was sitting up in bed, an untouched breakfast tray on the table beside her, and to Katrina’s loving eye she looked the picture of woe. A delightful picture, although she was crying—something she was able to do without spoiling her pretty face in the least. When she caught sight of Katrina she cried: ‘I haven’t slept a wink all night, I shall be ill…’ She peered at her sister’s composed face. ‘He’s been here, hasn’t he? I heard him come in. I don’t know how he dares after what he’s done!’
Katrina sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Well, he didn’t actually do anything, did he?’
Virginia looked at her in outraged astonishment. ‘Not do anything? He doesn’t want to marry me!’
‘Yes, love, I know, and although it’s a dreadful thing to happen, it’s better to say so now than wait until you’re married and regretting it.’
Virginia cast her a baleful look. ‘What will everyone say? And they’ll all laugh—those hateful Frobisher girls and Emily and Patricia and Sue…’
‘Why should they laugh? They’re your friends; it could happen to them any time.’
‘Oh, you’re on his side—I might have known!’ Virginia sounded spiteful. ‘Just because you’re getting on and not married yourself!’
Katrina went faintly pink. ‘You don’t mean a word of that, love. But I do think it will be a great pity if after all these years we shouldn’t be on speaking terms with Lucius—after all, he knew you in your pram.’
Virginia tossed golden hair over one shoulder. ‘What a silly girl you are, Katrina,’ she observed, and Katrina thought: twice in one morning, Father used to say ‘Never mind the looks, the girl’s got a good head on her,’ but I haven’t even got that. She said placidly: ‘Yes, I daresay I am. Would you like to go away for a while, darling?’
Her sister’s beautiful blue eyes opened wide. ‘Go away? With the Hunt Ball only a few weeks off and James Lovell taking me up to town to see that new play everyone is talking about?’ She smiled beguilingly. ‘I do need a new dress, Katie.’
‘You had that blue taffeta last month. What are you going to do about Lucius?’
‘I won’t speak to him again, and I hope you won’t either.’ She added viciously. ‘I hope some perfectly frightful widow with a horde of children gets her hands on him—it’s all he deserves!’
‘I don’t imagine he’ll marry unless he wants to,’ said Katrina, and instantly wished she hadn’t as Virginia’s tears began again. To stop them she promised a new dress, and the tears disappeared as if by magic.
She got up from the bed, observing mildly that James Lovell was on his way and shouldn’t Virginia get dressed. At the door she paused to ask: ‘Did Lucius actually ask you to marry him, love?’
Virginia was out of bed looking at herself in the dressing table mirror. ‘Don’t be such a nosey-parker,’ she said crossly, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘Darling Katie, what would I do without you? You’re the nicest person I know.’
Katrina spent the next hour going about her household duties. None of them were heavy, but all the same they had to be done; her parents had left them in comfortable circumstances—a charming Regency house with a splendid garden as well as the paddocks, Mrs Beecham, who had been with them since Katrina was born, Lovelace, who had been chauffeur, houseman and part-time gardener for almost the same length of time, and two girls from the village who came each day to help in the house. There was Old John too, who was what the villagers called a little light in the head; he came when it suited him and saw to the garden; he had a magic way with anything growing and no one had ever thought of interfering with his work there.
She discussed food with Mrs Beecham, agreed that someone should come and re-hang the shutters outside the living room windows, suggested that Lovelace might like to take some harness to be repaired, whistled to Bouncer, the Black Labrador snoozing before the stove, and went into the garden to cut chrysanthemums. It was a clear day with frost underfoot and just for the moment warm enough for her to go outside in her tweed skirt and thick sweater, but with November half done, the days were getting short and she doubted if the weather would stay fine for much longer. She gathered her flowers and then walked on, round the house and up the sloping path which led to the kitchen gardens at the top of the slight hill. Old John was there, picking Brussels sprouts and talking to himself, and she joined him for a bit before crossing to the far wall where there was a stout wooden door.
She opened it but didn’t go through, leaning against it and looking across the valley to where the chimneys of Stockley House sent pale wreaths of smoke into the clear air. The house was large; a great deal larger than her own home, with a park around it and a comfortable jumble of outbuildings, stables and barns at its back. Katrina knew every inch of it, for she had gone there very often as a child, first with her mother, when she went to call on Lucius’s mother, and then on her own, to seek him out and plague him to let her go with him fishing or riding, but later on he went to school, and although she still went there frequently, she only saw him during the holidays, and when it was her turn to go to school she saw even less of him. All the same, they were firm friends and had remained so—until now. She hadn’t always approved of his goings-on, by all accounts he was very much the man about town while he was in London—but that, she had told herself loyally, was his business, he was still Lucius; a friend to consult and someone to ask advice of, and when her parents were killed, a stout shoulder to cry into.
But as Virginia grew from a pretty little girl into a stunning young woman, he started to take her out; he took Katrina out too, riding or visiting friends, or walking the dogs, but when it came to dinner and the theatre in London, it was more often than not Virginia who was asked. And Katrina couldn’t remember when her sister had persuaded him to take her to the Hunt Ball; she had done it so prettily that it would have been cruel to have refused her, and she herself, cheerfully protesting that she didn’t care who she went with, had gone with the eldest Frobisher boy, a worthy young man, already going bald and for ever nattering on about the obscure work he had to do at the Foreign Office. And after that, Lucius had taken Virginia each succeeding year—since she was seventeen. Not that he’d singled her out deliberately; he had a great many friends and went out with them all, never showing preference for any of the girls he knew, but gradually everyone came to take it for granted that he and Virginia intended to marry sooner or later, and indeed, Virginia made no effort to deny this, and Katrina, since the awful occasion when she had observed that it was nothing but gossip and been asked if she were jealous of her own sister, had kept silent.
As she watched a car came round the corner of the house and raced down the drive towards the big gates. That would be Lucius in his Jaguar, going up to London to do big business, she supposed. He’d be back by the evening, though, because Emily’s mother was giving a dinner party and they had all been invited. Katrina made a mental resolve to warn Virginia to be polite at all costs.
As it happened there was no need; her sister told her over lunch that she was going out to dinner with James, and she didn’t care who knew it.
‘Then I’ll phone Mrs Drake and say you’ve got a heavy cold,’ said Katrina. ‘That’ll give her a chance to get someone else.’
Virginia gave her a pitying look. ‘You always do the right thing, don’t you? Say what you like—and I’m going up to town tomorrow to find a dress. What about you? I know you’ve no looks to speak of, but you’ve got a good figure—why don’t you tart yourself up a bit?’
On the way up to the studio after lunch, Katrina stopped in front of the enormous wall mirror on the landing and took a good look at herself. Medium height, a little too plump, nice legs and hands and feet, a face unremarkable save for her eyes, pale brown hair expertly cut to frame it, and well cut, expensive clothes suitable to the life she led.
‘Very dull,’ she told her reflection, and went on up the small staircase to the next floor and into her studio, where she lost herself in the happy world of fairy tales. She was illustrating a new edition of Hans Andersen, and got carried away on a stream of elves and gnomes and princesses in distress. She painted until the light failed and went downstairs to the sitting room where they always had tea. There was no sign of Virginia, and Mrs Beecham, coming in with the tray, offered the information that Miss Virginia had gone out in the car not half an hour past.
‘Well, we’ll both be out this evening, Mrs Beecham, so don’t wait up, will you? Whoever comes in last will lock up.’
Katrina poured herself a cup of tea, took a scone, picked up the daily paper and settled herself in a chair by the fire. The room was cosy, softly lighted and prettily furnished; her mother had always used it unless there had been people for tea—besides, there was no sense in having fires in the other, larger rooms unless there were guests. Bouncer was there too, and the two cats, lying in a friendly heap at her feet. She was a lucky young woman, she told herself soberly, to have so much when so many had so little. All the same, she felt a twinge of panic, glimpsing the years ahead. Supposing she didn’t marry? And after all, she was turned twenty-seven and no one had actually asked her. Would she be content to stay here, painting and drawing and running the house and watching her friends grow old? And not being friends with Lucius any more?
She shook herself briskly. He had behaved very badly; come to think of it, he had changed over the recent years. His eyes could be as hard as stones on occasions, and he smiled a nasty little mocking smile far too often. The thought struck her that perhaps he was really in love with Virginia after all, but something had caused him to draw back from marrying her. He was a good deal older, of course, but that shouldn’t matter; he was a handsome man and didn’t look his age. There could be a girl somewhere, of course, but she discarded the thought at once. He wasn’t devious, he would have made no bones about telling her that there was someone else. He had only laughed and said that poor Virginia had no heart. Katrina frowned; her sister was a darling—spoilt, perhaps, but who could help that, she was so enchantingly pretty and had such a way with her. To say that she was heartless was quite untrue.
Katrina bestirred herself, took Bouncer out for a run and went up to her room to change for the evening. She chose a dress with care. Lucius would be there and for some reason she wanted to look her very best—’Like a soldier cleaning his rifle before a battle,’ she explained to Bouncer, who had made himself comfortable on the end of her bed.
The dress was soft green crêpe-de-chine, very simple, very expensive and just a shade too old for her. As most of her clothes were. Now that Virginia was grown up and went everywhere with her and to a great many parties on her own, Katrina had begun to think of herself as very much the older sister, and she dressed accordingly, which was a pity, for she had a pretty figure and a clear, unlined skin and looked a lot younger than her age. But even if she bought the wrong clothes, her taste in shoes was not to be faulted. They were her weakness; sensible enough during the day but replaced as soon as maybe by elegant high-heeled models by Rayne and Gucci. She looked with satisfaction at the strappy kid slippers which went with the dress, slung on the quilted jacket she wore in the evenings if she was driving herself and went downstairs. There was no sign of Virginia and she wasn’t in her room, so Katrina left a note for her and went outside to where Lovelace had parked the car for her, a Triumph Sports, quite elderly now but still going well. Lovelace had never quite approved of it, too fast for a young lady, he had averred, although he had to admit with the same breath that Miss Katrina was a first-class driver.
The Drakes lived five miles away in another village. As Katrina went down the drive and turned into the lane bordered by Stockley House’s high wall, she thought with regret that normally Lucius would have called for her and driven her there and brought her home again. It was a sobering thought, rendered even more so when his Jaguar overtook her half way there, sliding sleekly past without him even turning his head, and even though it was dark, he would have known her car in the light of the headlamps. She watched his tail light disappear round the next bend and felt lonely.
There were only a dozen people at the Drakes’ house, and she knew them all, and since she was the last to arrive the drawing room was full enough for her to be able to avoid Lucius. Or so she thought.
She was sipping a dry sherry, which she detested, and listening to the Reverend Bartram Moffat’s equally dry conversation, when he wandered over to them. He greeted them both affably, advised the Vicar that their host wanted advice about some parochial business and took up a position in front of her so that to escape would be difficult.
‘Got over your nasty temper?’ he wanted to know with what she considered to be sickening indulgence. She said: ‘No,’ and took another sip of sherry.
He took her glass from her, poured the contents into his own and gave her back the empty glass. ‘You always hated the dry stuff,’ he observed, ‘and what you need at the moment is something sweet—I could pickle walnuts with your expression, Katie.’
She felt a bubble of laughter longing to escape, but all she said frostily was ‘Indeed?’
‘Where’s our brokenhearted Virginia? I’m willing to bet Gem against Bouncer that she’s gone out for the evening with young Lovell.’
Katrina twiddled her glass and went red. ‘She needs comfort,’ she observed.
‘Rubbish, and you know it. Tell me, what are your plans? Am I to be ignored in future? Is the whole silly affair to be decently forgotten and a return made to the status quo, or do we speak to each other in private?’
She raised serious eyes to his. ‘You know quite well that I could never hate you, Lucius, we’ve grown up together, we’ve been like brother and sister, but I don’t want to be friends any more; maybe you weren’t serious about Virginia, but you’ve hurt her deeply, and I can’t forgive that.’
‘All I hurt was her vanity and her pride.’ He was staring down at her and the nasty little smile was there again. ‘But have it your own way, my dear, although you’re greatly mistaken.’
She didn’t avoid his look. She said steadily: ‘You have a lot of women friends—oh, I’m not curious, but people gossip, you know. That makes it so much worse, because Virginia is so young and you’ve known her since she was a baby.’
His voice was silky. ‘And yet far better able to face the world and its wicked ways than you, Katie. We’ve had pleasant times together, haven’t we? But in future I’ll remember what you’ve said.’ He smiled gently. ‘I’m sure Mr Moffat is dying to talk to you again—such a nice quiet, well brought up young woman—and so correctly dressed.’ The silky voice bit into her. ‘You should change your style, Katrina, you’re not thirty yet.’ He moved aside to make room for Mr Moffat and she watched him go across the room to Mrs Drake. He looked handsome in his dinner jacket and his height and size made him noticeable wherever he was. She smiled politely at her companion and wondered miserably what it would be like to treat Lucius as a mere acquaintance when they met.
Dinner was a cheerful meal, since everyone there knew everyone else, and afterwards they sat around and talked for an hour or so until old Lady Ryder announced that she must go home, which was the signal for everyone else to do the same.
Katrina said her goodbyes, kissing the ladies and being kissed by the men, even Lucius, who brushed her cheek lightly and held her hand in an impersonal clasp and made some laughing remark about seeing her soon. And of course he’d been quite right to do it; in a day or two everyone would have heard that he and Virginia had broken up, but until then no one needed to know. She had felt mean listening to kind Mrs Drake’s concern for Virginia’s cold, and then seethed as she caught Lucius’s cynical look as he overheard. The comfortable, dependable man she had known all her life had changed into a remote, mocking stranger with cold eyes.
Driving back, she debated as to whether he was hiding a broken heart under that deadpan face, and if so what she could do about it.
Nothing; one didn’t interfere with other people’s lives even with the best of intentions, although she could wheedle Virginia into telling her what had happened. She would have to wait for the right moment, of course.
Which came a good deal sooner than she had expected. She was in the house, sitting at the kitchen table drinking the hot chocolate Mrs Beecham had left out, when she heard the front door open and close, and a moment later her sister came into the kitchen.
‘Hullo,’ said Katrina. ‘Did you lock up?’
Virginia gave her a dreamy look. ‘No, was I supposed to?’
Katrina got up. ‘Never mind, I’ll do it. There’s loads of chocolate if you’d like a cup.’
‘After two bottles of champagne? You must be joking! Did you have a very dull evening?’
‘I enjoyed it.’ Katrina spoke over her shoulder on the way to the hall and the front door. When she got back, Virginia was curled up in Mrs Beecham’s chair by the Aga.
‘Was Lucius there?’ she asked.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Did you talk to him?’
‘Yes—not much, though.’
‘No one knew? That he’d jilted me?’
‘No, Virginia—did he jilt you? Had he asked you to marry him? And had you said yes?’
Virginia closed her eyes and yawned. ‘What a lot of questions! Aren’t you being a bit nosey, darling?’ She went on softly: ‘He’s made a fool of me, and he’s going to pay for it.’
Katrina took her cup to the sink. ‘How can you talk like that when you expected to marry him? You must have loved—still love—him.’
Her sister got up and strolled to the door. ‘Darling, you’re the wee-est bit behind the times—in fact, it’s the sort of thing Mummy might have said; or even Nanny. I can see I must update you.’ She smiled seraphically. ‘I shall have to think of something.’ She blew a kiss. ‘Goodnight, Katie.’
Katrina went to bed presently, but not to sleep. Virginia had made a remarkably quick recovery from her broken heart; on the other hand, she was probably hiding her real feelings under a cheerful exterior. It was natural enough that she should be angry with Lucius, especially as he was so annoyingly cheerful about the whole thing. It was to be hoped that when their feelings had cooled, they could settle down again. Virginia was very young, she was bound to fall in love again. Katrina fell into an uneasy sleep and woke late, the remnants of a dream provokingly not to be recalled filling her head. It had been as nasty a dream as possible, of that she was sure.
It was strange not seeing Lucius. He had been in the habit of strolling in at least once each day, to offer lifts, or go riding, or just to sit for half an hour and talk. He was a good landlord and the estate, although not large, took up a good deal of his day, and twice a week he drove up to London where he was a partner in a large accountants firm. Katrina had got into the habit of giving him little commissions—something special from Fortnum and Mason, an order for the wine merchants, a query on a Harrods account, and besides that, getting a lift whenever she wanted one. She busied herself with her painting, glad she had a deadline to meet and no time for idling. She would take her work up to the publishers at the end of the week and see if she could find a dress for the Hunt Ball.
Virginia had gone up to London and come back with a ravishing ball gown which had cost a staggering sum of money, and now that important matter had been settled, she spent a good deal of her time with her various friends. Katrina had been surprised that no one had said anything about her sister and Lucius, but then she hadn’t been out very much, giving the excuse that she had to finish her work and was pushed for time. Now she was just about finished, and since Virginia had phoned to say that she was going to stay a night or two with Emily and Patricia, it left her free to do as she wanted. It would do poor little Virginia good to stay with her friends; she had gone over for lunch, and as she had often stopped the night, Katrina had welcomed it. Besides, the roads could be treacherous now that the weather was turning really wintry. The Turners didn’t live all that far away, a matter of ten miles or so, but Virginia was a careless driver.
Katrina tidied away her paints and brushes and began to wrap up her work. It was still early, so she could drive up to London and hand over her work, have lunch and look for a dress—but that would mean driving back in the evening, not that that worried her, she was a good driver, but suppose Virginia decided to return home earlier? Besides, it left her short of time.
She was tying the tapes of the portfolio when the door opened and Lucius walked in. She was so surprised to see him that she didn’t say anything at all, but she detected a fine rage under his bland expression. She said good morning in a questioning voice and resisted the urge to back away from him.
‘Is it? Where is Virginia, Katrina?’ he asked as he came to a halt in front of her.
‘Spending a couple of days with the Turners. Why?’
‘Very wise of her.’ His voice was even, but his eyes were grey stones. ‘Do you know what she’s told all our friends and acquaintances? No, I can see you don’t. That I’ve cast her off—her own words—and taken up with you!’
‘Me?’ asked Katrina, quite flabbergasted.
‘Oh, yes. You see, as she has explained at some length to everyone who would listen, she had no chance against your brains and elegance and—er—knowledge of the world—oh, and I almost forgot—your maturity.’
Katrina goggled at him. ‘But what nonsense!’ she managed.
‘Oh, no, just a clever way of putting things, my dear. When everyone has got over their open-mouthed astonishment and thought about it, they’ll see it for the nonsense it is. In the meantime…’ he managed to smile thinly, ‘I should like to wring her neck!’
‘She’s upset,’ said Katrina. ‘She said her heart was broken…’
‘And what else, I wonder? That I was an ogre, that I should pay for upsetting her careful plans. You know what she intended to do?’
‘No, but she—she did say you would pay for it. I don’t think for one minute that she meant it.’
He said quite savagely: ‘You walk around with your head in the clouds, painting hobgoblins and flower fairies, you let Virginia trample you underfoot and wheedle you into giving her far too much money. Why in heaven’s name don’t you use some of it on yourself? Buy some clothes suited to your age!’ He saw her colour painfully. ‘Oh, you always look nice, but why think of yourself as a woman, a staid woman at that, who’ll never see forty again? You’re twenty-seven and you look ten years younger than that.’ He laughed softly. ‘And I’m not paying compliments—I know you too well for that.’
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Katrina, not liking the sound of that laugh.
‘Do? Why, call her bluff, of course. I shall turn my attentions to you, Katie. In due course we shall become engaged, and when you’ve had the time to gather together whatever it is girls gather before they marry, we’ll be wed. Here in Upper Tew.’
For a big man he was very fast on his feet. Before she could gather her wits to answer such nonsense, he had left her, closing the door very quietly behind him.

CHAPTER TWO
ALL IDEA OF going to London gone from her head, Katrina sat down and allowed her chaotic thoughts to settle themselves. They jostled each other around her head, making no sense. Lucius had been joking—or had he? And surely Virginia would not have played such a rotten trick even if she had meant it as a joke. She must have known it was a bad one, sure to misfire. Katrina thanked heaven that their friends, mostly lifelong, would think twice before believing Virginia, or at least they wouldn’t accuse her of lying, merely of exaggerating, and that because her youthful ego had been deflated. And no one, no one at all, would have anything to say against Lucius. She sighed; which meant that Virginia would have to explain. She frowned then. Surely her sister hadn’t said those hurtful things?—as though she had ever made any push to attract Lucius away from Virginia, and she wasn’t brainy or mature or elegant, that had been cruel. All the same, Lucius need not have been quite so angry, and the suggestion he had made had been ridiculous. If he thought he was going to get even with Virginia by playing a silly make-believe game with herself as an unwilling partner he could think again! She finished tying the portfolio and went downstairs.
In the sitting room Lucius was sitting comfortably, reading The Times. He got up as she stopped just inside the door, taking no notice of her astonished: ‘Well, what are you doing here?’
‘I heard you telling Mrs Drake that you intended going up to town with your drawings. I’ll drive you up now; I’ve an appointment for later on this morning, but I’ll pick you up and bring you back any time you like.’
Katrina said with great dignity: ‘Thank you, Lucius, but I shall drive myself up tomorrow. I’m surprised at you asking.’
‘My dear, didn’t I make myself plain? For lack of a better phrase, I intend to court you. I shouldn’t like to make Virginia out to be a liar.’
‘And what about me?’ asked Katrina furiously. ‘No one’s asked me if—if I want to be courted.’ She added snappishly: ‘How silly and old-fashioned that sounds!’
‘Ah, yes indeed; you must add these to my other shortcomings.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! You’re being tiresome.’
‘That too,’ he agreed gravely. ‘How long will it take you to get ready?’
‘I’ve just said, I’m going to drive myself…’ She caught his eye, grey and cold and compelling. ‘Very well,’ she said reluctantly, ‘but I don’t want any more of this nonsense. I shall talk to Virginia when she gets back and—and…’ She faltered under his amused stare.
‘You haven’t a chance,’ he told her. ‘She’s always made rings round you and always will.’ He nodded gently at her. ‘Go and get ready.’
Ever since she could remember Katrina had obeyed him unquestioningly, even though at times she hadn’t minced matters if she was annoyed with him. She went back upstairs to her room and changed into a dark grey suit, beautifully cut. It was elegant and in excellent taste, and made her look older than she was. A scarf, plain court shoes and a matching handbag completed her outfit while doing nothing for her at all. She fetched her portfolio and went downstairs to tell Mrs Beecham that she wouldn’t be back until the late afternoon, before going back to the sitting room.
Lucius eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Going to do any shopping?’ he wanted to know.
‘Well, I thought I might look round for a dress for the Hunt Ball. Why do you want to know?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘No reason. Shall we go?’
He dropped her off at the publishers in Bloomsbury after arranging to meet her for lunch at the Connaught Hotel. ‘I’ll be in the bar at twelve-thirty and wait for you,’ he suggested.
She stood on the pavement outside the publishers’ office. ‘But will you be ready by then? I could make it later if you like and do some shopping first.’
He handed her the portfolio. ‘No need, I’ll be there. You can shop after lunch.’
He waited until she had gone inside and then got back into the car and drove off. Katrina watched him go through the glass doors. It was strange to think that despite all the happenings of the last few days, she felt exactly the same about him as she had always done—a friend, someone to be depended upon, who always knew what to do. As she gave her name to the receptionist she decided that the best plan would be to ignore their extraordinary conversation of that morning; she would have it out with Virginia, persuade her to tell everyone that she had been joking, and everything would be just as it had been. Or would it be? She had no chance to ponder the matter before she was ushered upstairs to the publishers’ office.
She wasn’t there long. The illustrations were approved, she was asked if she would undertake another commission for a jacket cover, given coffee, promised a cheque within a few days, and took her departure. She had to walk a little way before she could get a taxi and the traffic was heavy. She got to the Connaught ten minutes late, to find Lucius sitting in the bar with no sign of impatience.
She sat down opposite him and took off her gloves. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I couldn’t find a taxi. Have you been waiting long?’
‘A few minutes. What will you drink?’
Over their drinks they talked without saying much. Katrina felt awkward; it hadn’t been so bad in the car, sitting beside him while they carried on desultory conversation, but now with him opposite her, his grey eyes friendly, she had the absurd wish to ask his advice about what she should do. However, she didn’t. She told him about her new commission, enlarging upon the weather, which was chilly, and agreed nervously when he suggested that they might lunch without further delay.
She discovered that she was hungry once they were seated, to Lucius’s suggestion that they might try the smoked trout she agreed immediately, and then went on to boeuf Stroganoff and ruche glacée. It was over their coffee that Lucius suggested that as he was free for the afternoon he might accompany her on her shopping expedition.
‘You’d be bored stiff,’ said Katrina forthrightly.
‘No, I won’t. We’ll leave the car here and walk.’
‘But I thought of going to Harrods or Liberty’s.’
‘Let’s try Bond Street and Sloane Street first.’
They were on the steps of the hotel when she said: ‘Look, you’ll hate it—tagging from shop to shop, and I never go to boutiques…’
He took her arm and began walking her along the pavement. ‘Why not?’
‘I’m not that sort of girl—I mean, I’m not smart or pretty.’ She added pettishly: ‘And for heaven’s sake, why do you ask? You’ve known it for years.’
‘I know a couple of shops where I’m sure you’ll see you’re mistaken.’
She stopped walking to look up at him. She didn’t mind in the least that he hadn’t denied her lack of good looks, during all their years of friendship he had never made any bones about that, but she was curious about something else. ‘How do you know about boutiques?’ she wanted to know.
Lucius chuckled. ‘Don’t be so inquisitive, Katie.’ He walked her on again and presently stopped before an elegant plate glass window, sheltering a vase of flowers, a gossamer scarf over a little gilt chair, and a black dress, displayed on an impossibly slim plaster model.
‘That’s a nice little chair,’ observed Katrina, who was interested in furniture.
‘Charming, but you can’t wear that to the Hunt Ball,’ he said as he opened the door and swept her inside.
Dove grey velvet, more little chairs, delicate lights and an elegant creature in black crêpe left Katrina without words. But it was obvious that Lucius had no intention of helping her. She asked to see some evening dresses and shot him a smouldering look.
The saleslady smiled with quite a human warmth. ‘For yourself, of course, madam. Had you any particular colour in mind?’
Lucius had made himself comfortable, on a button-backed sofa in one corner. ‘Green,’ he suggested. ‘That bright peacock green-blue—taffeta, if you’ve got such a thing.’
Katrina went and sat beside him on the sofa. ‘I never wear bright colours,’ she hissed.
‘That’s the trouble, my dear.’ He turned to look at the saleslady, followed by another one, bearing an armful of all the colours of the rainbow. ‘Try them all on.’
‘Size twelve?’ fluted the saleslady. ‘Madam has a slim figure, and of course we can do any alterations necessary.’ She signed to the other girl, who held a patterned organza creation in shades of green. It had a full skirt and a frill around its low neckline. ‘Or this,’ she coaxed, and displayed a rose taffeta with long tight sleeves and a square neck. ‘Or perhaps this is the colour?’
She was a good saleswoman; she had merely whetted Katrina’s appetite with the first two; the third was exactly what Lucius had suggested—taffeta in a rich green shot through with blue with short billowing sleeves, a tiny bodice and wide skirts. ‘Try them all on, madam,’ she begged again.
Katrina didn’t look at Lucius. He really had a nerve, bulldozing her into coming into a shop like this in the first place, sitting there like a possessive husband! She wasn’t going to buy anything, just to teach him a lesson, but since she was there, she might just try them on…
The organza was charming, not at all her usual sort of dress, and it certainly did something for her, Without asking the saleslady swept back the silk curtains and invited her to show herself to Sir, and since there was not any way out of that, she did so, rather shyly.
‘Very nice.’ He studied her for such a long time that she frowned a little and went back into the dressing room, where she tried the pink, which was even prettier.
‘I like that,’ declared Lucius, ‘but let’s see that green thing first.’
The green thing was exactly right, although so different to her other evening gowns that she hardly recognised herself. Lucius took his time looking her over. ‘That’s the one,’ he said finally. ‘I like the neck.’
Katrina pinkened. The neck was low, not at all the kind of thing she usually wore—now Virginia would look gorgeous in it…
‘Madam has splendid shoulders and a very pretty bustline,’ observed the saleslady. ‘If I might say so, the dress is just right for her.’
Katrina kept her eyes on the silk wallpaper above Lucius’s head. ‘I’m not sure…’ she began.
‘Have it, Katie, and the pink one as well.’
She was quite out of her depth. Years of going to one of the better stores and choosing the unobtrusive clothes which she had always believed helped her to be a little less plain hadn’t prepared her for this. Now she was landed with two eyecatching dresses she might never wear. She changed back into her well cut suit, tidied her hair, and, once more the self-possessed young woman, went back into the shop to find the dresses already packed and Lucius putting away his cheque book. It was hardly the place to argue. She waited until they were out of the shop before she started.
‘There was no need for you to pay. I’ve plenty of money of my own. Whatever did the woman think?’
He took her reluctant arm. ‘I’ve never minded what people think. In any case, why are you fussing about it? You can give me a cheque later.’
‘I’ve no idea how much they were—and what on earth shall I do with two dresses? I’m not even sure that I’ll wear one of them.’
‘You’ll wear the green thing to the Hunt Ball, and the pink will come in handy when we go dancing.’ He glanced down at her. ‘Have you forgotten that we’re walking out?’
‘We’re not—I won’t…I shall speak to Virginia when she gets home!’
‘So you said,’ Lucius had stopped before another shop window. ‘Now, that’s nice,’ he pointed out the brown velvet suit draped over a stand, its matching blouse in a deep cream silk cast negligently by it.
Katrina took a look. ‘Chanel,’ she observed. ‘It’ll be hundreds of pounds.’
‘You said only a few minutes ago that you had plenty of money.’ He added smoothly: ‘Dressed in that you’d easily get the better of Virginia. Buy it.’
Katrina, who had had no intention of buying anything else, found herself in the shop, trying on the suit which was a perfect fit, and since she might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, trying the blouse as well, writing a cheque for a heart-stopping sum, and walking out of the shop again. Outside she said firmly: ‘I’m not buying another thing—I could have got two good tweed outfits for that money…’
‘So you could, but think how nice you look in that coat and skirt. Worth every penny. I like the little jacket; as that other woman said, you have a very pretty bosom, you should show it off more.’
Katrina gasped. ‘Well, really, Lucius, whatever will you say next.’
‘Well, surely we’ve known each other long enough for me to make a few brotherly remarks without you coming over all modest?’ A gleam came into his eye. ‘Why, I remember—let me see, I must have been about twelve and you five—we went swimming in the river, and you without a stitch on.’
Katrina let out a gurgle of laughter. ‘Oh, I remember—Nanny gave me such a ticking off and a good smacking.’
‘And I had a painful interview with Father in the study.’
‘We deserved it, I suppose—it was March, wasn’t it? We could have died of cold.’
They had tea in a small tea-room, waited upon by a refined young lady in a chintz overall; China tea and mammoth eclairs. Katrina, about to start on her second cake, arrested her fork in mid-air when Lucius said:
‘You’ll get fat, Katie.’
She looked at him in horror. ‘No—am I fat now? Even a little plump?’
‘Just right—don’t for God’s sake go on a diet, though—skinny women have no charm.’
Katrina took a good bite. ‘Oh, good—all the same, I must remember to weigh myself sometimes.’ She smiled at him across the little table. ‘What a strange day it’s been; like a dream.’
‘Every second of it true, Katrina. Who is taking you to the Hunt Ball?’
‘Well, several men have offered…’
‘But you’ve not accepted?’
‘No.’
‘Then you’ll come with me. You were coming to the dinner party first anyway, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, but what about Virginia? I mean, won’t you feel—well, awkward?’
He gave her a cool stare. ‘Why should I? There’ll be a dozen of us there anyway, and she and I are bound to meet again, you know.’
‘Yes, but after the things she said…’
‘Silly, childish nonsense. Shall I send the car for you or will you drive over?’
‘I’ll drive.’
He nodded. ‘You can leave the car at my place and pick it up later.’
They walked back presently and got into the car and began the drive home. ‘Doing anything this evening?’ asked Lucius idly.
‘No—I don’t expect Virginia until tomorrow. I’ll sketch some ideas for the book jacket.’
‘We can call in at your place and you can make sure she hasn’t come home and then have dinner with me.’ He added wickedly: ‘We have to get to know each other, you know.’
‘What rubbish—we’ve known each other all our lives. Besides, I’d rather like a quiet evening.’
‘When have you ever found me noisy?’ he wanted to know, ‘and I promise I’ll drive you home the moment you want to go.’
There was no message from Virginia when they reached her home. Mrs Beecham received Katrina’s news that she would be dining with Lucius with a straight face but a decided twinkle in her shrewd eyes. All she said was: ‘I know where you are if you’re wanted, Miss Katrina. Will you be late back? Lovelace can take Bouncer for his walk.’
‘I’ll not be late, Mrs Beecham. Will you get someone to take these boxes up to my room?’ She bent to scratch Bouncer’s head and Lucius, standing by the door, said: ‘Bring him with you, you know how he likes a romp with my two.’
So Bouncer scrambled into the back of the car and stuck his head between them as they drove back into the lane and, after a moment or so, turned in at the gates of Stockley House. Katrina was as familiar with the house as her own home, but it never ceased to give her a thrill as she got out before its massive entrance. The front of the house was Queen Anne, only at the back were there the remains of the Tudor house which had been the first Massey home. The porch was a magnificent one, leading to a vast door opening on to a small vestibule which in turn gave on to the front hall, a circular apartment with a great many doors and a double staircase taking up the whole of the far wall. The ceiling was painted and gilded and the white panelled walls were hung with paintings. Katrina said a cheerful ‘Good evening’ to Cobb, the middle-aged and spidery man who had opened the door, and walked past him Bouncer beside her. But not for long; one of the doors was open and two dogs came bounding out, a Great Dane puppy and a Dalmatian. They fell upon their master with every sign of delight and then joined Bouncer. Lucius walked past her, through the open door, and opened the doors leading on to the terrace beyond the room, and the three of them streamed out, barking with pleasure.
‘They can let off steam for a bit,’ he commented, coming back into the hall. ‘You’d like a drink? Want to do your face? You know which room, I’ll be in the drawing room.’
Katrina nodded and crossed the hall to the staircase. On the way she paused to look at one of the portraits. ‘I see Buxom Bessy’s still here—she ought to be hidden away in a guestroom.’
Lucius had strolled across to join her and they stood looking up at the painting of an extremely plump lady in a remarkably low-cut gown and a fearsome wig. ‘She has a certain air…’ he began and Katrina giggled.
‘The Lucius Massey who married her thought she was enchanting; she was probably very pretty when he first met her. He must have continued to think so, because he loved her until she died.’
‘Poor Bessy—ten children too!’
‘Not as bad as it sounds, though. There would have been nursemaids enough, and tutors and governesses.’
Katrina started up the stairs. ‘Well, I suppose with all those children one would need plenty of help. Ten is an awful lot.’
‘Too many? You dislike large families? I know they’re not fashionable.’
Katrina turned round to face him. ‘Not so much unfashionable as anti-social! But of course I’d like two or three of my own, and in a house like this, or ours, for that matter, there’s room enough. Besides, there’s money enough too—I’ve even got an old nanny pretending she’s retired—so have you, Lucius.’
‘We can count ourselves among the lucky ones, then, can’t we?’
Something in his voice made her turn back and run up the staircase. As she walked along the gallery above the hall she had a vague fleeting picture of children running round the big house, sliding down the banisters, shouting and laughing. One day, she supposed, Lucius would marry—she had begun to think of him as married to Virginia, but that had come to an end; he’d fall in love again. Had he ever been in love with Virginia? She opened a door at the end of the gallery and entered a small, very pretty bedroom and sat down before a white-painted dressing table to do her face and hair. Once or twice she had slept in this room; when she had been a little girl and gone to stay with the Masseys on some special occasion, and ever since, even after Lucius’s parents died, it had been known as her room. She went downstairs presently and found Lucius before a great log fire in the drawing room. He got up as she went in, sat her down in a small armchair opposite his and gave her a drink.
It was a very pleasant room and comfortable despite its size and grandeur, and presently he got up and let the three dogs in. They jostled for places before the fire, sinking into a contented heap, piled on top of each other, the puppy with his head on Lucius’s shoes.
Katrina, curled up in her chair, gave a small sigh of contentment. There was no need to make conversation, she and Lucius knew each other too well for that. She was half asleep when Cobb came to say that dinner was served, and although she was wide awake once they were at table, their talk was of mundane things—the new village hall, plans for the Christmas party at the church school, who could be roped in for the carol singing, could old Mrs Todd, who’d lived in a tiny cottage in the village for untold years, be left to live alone much longer or should something be done about getting her some help—tactfully, of course, she was an old woman with a sharp tongue and a mind of her own even at ninety odd years.
They went back to the drawing room for their coffee and presently Katrina said reluctantly: ‘I must go—it’s getting late, and Lovelace will stay up for me even though I’ve a key.’
Lucius made no effort to stop her. She put on her jacket and got into the car beside him and he drove her the short distance back home. He got out when she did and she asked: ‘Do you want to come in?’ with a lack of enthusiasm which made him chuckle. ‘No,’ he told her, ‘only to see you safely indoors.’
He waited after he had opened the door for her until Lovelace came into the hall and until he heard Katrina ask if Virginia was back. Only when Lovelace shook his head did he say goodnight, adding as he went through the door: ‘Remember to wear the new outfit tomorrow, Katie.’
She hadn’t thought anything about that until just before tea on the next day; there had been several things to do, indoors and out, and she felt untidy. Once in her room, showered and peering into her cupboard for something to wear, she saw the brown velvet hanging. Lucius had suggested that she should put it on—a silly idea, since she wasn’t expecting anyone. Virginia hadn’t phoned; she would be staying another night, probably. All the same, it would give her rather dull day a bit of life.
She put it on and studied herself in the pier glass. There was no denying the fact that it did something for her; the blouse was exactly right and the straight little jacket with its braid trimming was elegant, as was the pencil-slim skirt. She put on a pair of brown shoes she hardly ever wore because she had decided that they were too frivolous. Now they looked exactly right too. She went downstairs feeling rather pleased with herself, had her tea before the fire in the sitting room and sat down at her desk to do her accounts. She had spent far too much money yesterday and she still owed Lucius for the two dresses, and heaven knew how much they would be. There was her cheque to come, of course, and the new commission, and the dividends from various shares. All the same, she would have to be careful; the lodge roof needed repairs, and there was a broken fence to be mended. The winter months were always expensive too with the house to keep warm, and people in for drinks around Christmas. Katrina chewed the top of her pen and did her careful sums, and didn’t hear the car coming up the drive.
The sudden brilliance of light as the wall lights were switched on from the door made her turn round. Virginia was home.
Katrina got up unhurriedly. ‘Hullo,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.’
Her sister was staring at her and didn’t answer, but after a moment she said: ‘That’s new, and it must have cost a bomb—you look positively elegant!’
Lucius had been quite right. The suit had wrapped Katrina in a pleasant aura of knowing that she looked her best, and consequently sure of herself. She said lightly: ‘I thought it was high time that I lived up to the image you’ve given me.’
Virginia looked guilty and at the same time defiant. ‘Well, I didn’t see why everyone should go around saying Poor Virginia.’ She added sharply: ‘I said I’d get even with Lucius.’
‘So you did,’ agreed Katrina calmly, ‘but did you have to get even with me too?—I can’t remember trespassing on your preserves.’
Virginia tossed her head. ‘You’re not exactly what I’d call a serious rival. Were you thinking of having a go?’
‘At what?’
‘Why, Lucius, of course. After all, he’ll have to marry some time, though I should think you’d be bored stiff with each other—after all you’ve known each other for years and years.’
‘I can’t say the idea had crossed my mind,’ said Katrina in a cold little voice, ‘and I’m sure Lucius…’
She stopped herself just in time; it had crossed his mind, hadn’t it? but only because it suited his own ends.
‘What’s all this about me?’ Lucius’s voice was casually placid. Katrina wondered how long he’d been standing by the open door listening to them. He strolled into the room and went to stand by the fire.
‘So you’re back, you silly girl,’ he observed to Virginia. ‘You’ve made a fine fool of yourself, haven’t you? I hope it teaches you a lesson—that not every man who dates you wants to be saddled with you for the rest of his life.’
Virginia’s pretty face flushed scarlet. ‘You beast! Katrina, listen to him—say something!’
‘Don’t hide behind your sister,’ advised Lucius pleasantly. ‘You’re quite able to stand up for yourself.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Katrina, if we’re going out to dinner we must go now—I’ve booked the table for half past seven.’
Katrina stared at him. He was smiling a little, but the look he gave her was sufficient for her to say hastily: ‘I’m ready—I must just get my bag, and I suppose I’d better bring a coat.’
She saw Virginia’s puzzled look as she went past her and up to her room. It was a pity that Lucius had come when he had, because they had merely postponed the unpleasant half hour she and Virginia were going to have. And where in heaven’s name were they going? She flung a few things into a clutch bag, got a coat from the cupboard and went downstairs again.
Lucius was standing exactly where she had left him, Virginia sitting on the arm of a chair. Katrina heard her voice very clearly as she went across the hall. ‘And don’t think I’m coming to your stuffy dinner party for the Hunt Ball! James is taking me out first, and we’ll come on to the ball later.’
‘Afraid to face them?’ asked Lucius softly, and went to meet Katrina, who paused in the doorway to say: ‘I told Mrs Beecham dinner at half past seven, I shan’t be late back.’
She didn’t wait to hear Virginia’s muttered reply, but went out to where the Jaguar was parked and got in beside Lucius. As he drove off she said: ‘Now you can explain, Lucius.’
‘I thought we might have a meal at La Sorbonne—we haven’t been there for quite a time. Virginia didn’t care for Oxford, we nearly always went up to town or to Bath.’
Katrina said, ‘Oh,’ and searched for a suitable reply, but she couldn’t think of one, so instead she said: ‘Why?’
They were on the main road, the Jaguar making light of the twenty odd miles they had to drive. ‘I thought it might be nice to give that new suit an airing.’
‘You didn’t know that Virginia was coming home this evening?’ she persisted.
‘My dear girl, how suspicious you are! How should I know that, and how could I have booked a table on the spur of the moment without you knowing?’
Which made sense. She wasn’t going to know that he had seen the lights of Virginia’s car going up the lane, shouted to Cobb to phone La Sorbonne and followed her as quickly as he could, Virginia had a nasty temper and Katrina was no match for her, even in the new outfit.
They didn’t talk much, but since over the years they had attained an easy relationship which didn’t need constant conversation to keep it alive, Katrina accepted Lucius’s silence and sat quietly, lulled into a peaceful state where she didn’t even bother to think. They reached Oxford presently and Lucius turned off the High Street, parked the car and walked her down the little alley close by. The restaurant was on the first floor of a seventeenth-century house and was noted for its excellent food. Katrina wrinkled her small nose at the scent of the flowers on the table and said: ‘This is nice!’
Lucius smiled at her. ‘Good. That brown thing is very becoming, Katie.’ His glance was as careless as a brother’s. ‘What would you like to drink?’
They dined at leisure; wild duck, cooked as only it could be cooked at La Sorbonne, preceded by globe artichokes and followed by a lemon sorbet. They sat over their coffee, talking like the old friends they were, but not mentioning Virginia. It wasn’t until they were back again and Katrina was saying goodbye that Lucius asked: ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in for a drink?’
Katrina said forthrightly: ‘Heavens, whatever for? Though if you really want one, I could make coffee or tea…’
‘Tea would be nice,’ said Lucius so meekly that she looked at him suspiciously, but since she couldn’t see him very clearly she said reluctantly: ‘All right, come in then.’
Lucius smiled a little and followed her into the quiet house, across the hall and through the baize door to the kitchen. It was comfortably warm, the Aga glowing gently and Cromwell, Mrs Beecham’s cat, curled up before it. Lucius filled a kettle and set it to boil while Katrina fetched two mugs and found the milk and sugar, then sat down at the big scrubbed table. The tea was strong and hot. ‘We shan’t sleep a wink,’ declared Katrina, and poured second cups.
They had almost finished when the door opened and Virginia came in, a vision in pink velvet and chiffon frills. ‘I heard the car,’ she observed, ‘and the racket Lucius made crossing the hall. I think it’s very selfish of you to make so much noise—I need my sleep.’
Katrina was on the point of saying she was sorry, but Lucius forestalled her. ‘Did you come all the way down here to tell us that?’ he asked. ‘I very much doubt it.’
Virginia shot him a cross look. ‘How did you guess? As a matter of fact, I forgot to tell you something when I came home this evening.’
‘Let me guess,’ said Lucius smoothly. ‘You’re engaged—James Lovell, of course, I can’t think of anyone else who would have you.’
‘You knew—how did you find out?’ Virginia was so furiously angry that she began to cry, and Katrina started forward to comfort her, to be firmly checked by Lucius.
‘I didn’t know, but there is such a thing as logical reasoning. Are you going to wait for a decent interval before you announce it? I mean, it’s only days since I—er—threw you over, and you must give people time to recover from that you know.’
‘If James were here, he’d knock you down,’ sobbed Virginia.
‘I very much doubt that, but he’s welcome to try next time we meet. Now go to bed, you silly girl.’
‘Virginia…’ began Katrina.
‘Oh, shut up!’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘It’ll serve you right if you stay a starchy spinster for the rest of your days!’ She rounded on Lucius. ‘And as for you…’
‘Burning oil or slow poison—Goodnight, Virginia, and congratulations.’
When she had gone Katrina said slowly: ‘You needn’t have been so unkind.’ She added: ‘All the same, I’m glad you were here.’
Lucius collected the mugs and put them tidily in the sink. All he said was: ‘May I come to lunch tomorrow?’ And when she said ‘Yes’ in a surprised voice: ‘I fancy Virginia will have more to say by then, and Katie, don’t, I beg of you, get embroiled in an argument with her until I get here.’
‘That’s all very well! She’s my sister, I’ve always taken care of her…’
‘Just so. I wonder when you’ll realise that you’re the one who needs taking care of?’
He crossed the space between them and threw an arm round her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry about it, and there’s one thing I can promise you; you’re not a starchy spinster and never will be.’ He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Go to bed.’
‘You were joking, weren’t you?’ she asked in a small voice.
He understood her at once. ‘No. We’ll announce our engagement at the Hunt Ball…no, better still, at Virginia’s wedding. If I know her, she’ll make James get a special licence and expect a slap-up wedding in about ten days’ time.’
He took her arm and went into the hall. ‘Lock up after me,’ he warned her, and went out of the door to the car.
Katrina shut the bolts and turned the key, her head a muddle of weddings, engagements and Lucius’s arrogance in taking it for granted that she wanted to marry him. She tumbled into bed presently, all these problems swept away by the enormous one of how to arrange a big wedding in a matter of days. Ten days, Lucius had said, and from experience she knew that he was almost always right.

CHAPTER THREE
WHEN KATRINA went down to breakfast the next morning, Lovelace met her in the hall with the information that Miss Virginia was having her breakfast in bed as she had had a bad night so Katrina shared hers with the ever faithful Bouncer, then went back upstairs and tapped on her sister’s door.
Virginia was sitting up in bed, her breakfast tray beside her, reading a magazine. She looked up as Katrina went in, then bent her head over its glossy pages again.
Katrina took the magazine from her and sat down on the edge of the bed. She asked: ‘When were you planning to get married, Virginia?’
‘Soon—before Christmas, though I can’t see what business it is of yours.’ She snatched the magazine back, looking sulky.
‘Well, I supposed you’d want a pretty wedding, and that will take some organising. Invitations and bridesmaids and so on…’
‘Don’t you mind if I get married and you don’t?’
‘Well, no, I don’t think so—why should I? I don’t want to marry James.’ Katrina paused. ‘You’re sure, Virginia?—it’s only a few days ago since you thought you wanted to marry Lucius.’
She didn’t give her sister time to answer. Virginia’s hands had curled round the magazine, her eyes blazing, and Katrina remembered that Lucius had told her to wait until he was there, and she suddenly wished he was. She got up and went out of the room, and the magazine thudded on the door as she was closing it behind her.
She’d been a fool to try and talk to Virginia. She was shaking a little as she went downstairs and set about her normal chores, first to Mrs Beecham to let her know that Lucius would be there for lunch, then out into the garden with Bouncer to find old John and coax him to let her have some of the Doyenne du Comice pears he had been picking with such care. They were a crop that he tended with pleasure and pride and each autumn he tended to hand them out in a miserly fashion. But this morning he was in a generous mood, and when Katrina explained that Mr Massey was coming to lunch and might enjoy one, he presented her with a small basket of the fruit.
‘That old Pritchard down at Stockley House, ‘e don’t know a good pear when he sees ‘un, though ‘e’s got a good eye for a grape.’
Katrina perched on a pile of wooden boxes, took an apple from one of the trays and prepared for half an hour’s conversation with the old man. It was only the appearance of the gardener’s boy with a jug of tea for old John that sent her on her way, this time to the stables.

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