teach her. You should both come to the stables with me first thing after the wedding.’
Her husband laughed and squeezed her hand. ‘My dear, they will probably be quite busy with everything that is going on at Castonbury. Touring the stables many not be first on their list.’
Phaedra gave a rueful laugh. ‘Of course, Mrs Moreno, Miss Westman. I do get rather carried away when I talk about my horses. But you must come and ride with me any time you choose. I have the sweetest, kindest little mare that should just suit Miss Westman.’
‘That is very kind of you,’ Catalina answered. Lydia still looked too terrified to say much at all.
They were led around the room again to meet yet more people, including a plethora of guests who had come in from the village and neighbouring houses for the dinner. There was also Lord Harry, the diplomatic son, and his wife, Elena, who declared herself so full of happiness to meet a countrywoman and said they had to sit down for a long talk as soon as possible. Not as congenial was Mrs Landes-Fraser (‘Aunt Wilhemina,’ Lily whispered with a shiver), an elderly lady ensconced by the fire and swathed in layers of silk, Indian shawls and a plumed turban, despite the warm evening.
She inspected them closely before snorting. ‘Pretty enough,’ she declared of Lydia, ‘but much too pale. Like your mother, are you, girl? She had no spirit either.’
Lily led them away from ‘Aunt Wilhemina’ as quickly as she could with an apologetic smile. ‘You must not mind her,’ she whispered. ‘She is that way with absolutely everyone. I was terrified of her when I first came to Castonbury.’
Catalina saw that Lydia regained her ‘spirit’ quickly enough when they met a certain Mr Hale, a handsome young man with a cap of bright blond hair and friendly eyes who was the new curate at the Castonbury church. He eagerly bowed over Lydia’s hand and smiled down at her as she stared up at him.
Catalina could see at one glance that this was a situation that called for a close watch.
‘Mr Hale has only been here a short time,’ Lily said. ‘But the vicar, my adoptive father Reverend Seagrove, cannot stop singing his praises. He has certainly brought a new life to the parish.’
‘You are too kind, Miss Seagrove,’ Mr Hale said with a smile. He still smiled at Lydia. ‘I am only doing my duty.’
‘I am sure you are absolutely marvellous at it, Mr Hale,’ Lydia said softly.
‘Where is the duke?’ Mrs Landes-Fraser suddenly cried. ‘It is past time for supper to be served. I don’t know why he suddenly insists on eating with us anyway. Most inconvenient after all this time. I shall need to eat soon or my digestion won’t be able to bear it.’
‘I’m sure Father will be here very soon,’ Phaedra said. ‘You know how excited he is about all that has happened. It’s like he has a new life in him.’
Mrs Landes-Fraser gave another snort and adjusted her shawls around her. ‘New life? Hmph! We were doing just fine with the way our life was before.’
Phaedra frowned and looked as if she very much wanted to argue, but the drawing room door opened before she could say anything.
Catalina glanced towards the man who had just come into the room. It had to be the duke himself, an imposing man with faded dark hair and clothes that looked a bit too large for him.
‘About time,’ Mrs Landes-Fraser muttered.
Harry stepped to his father’s side. ‘Here, Father, let me help you to your chair by the fire.’
The duke shook him away. ‘I am quite all right, my boy. Quit fussing so.’ His sharp grey eyes, half hidden under lowered brows, suddenly focused on Lydia. ‘And who is this, then? Must be Miss Westman, eh?’
Lydia gave a little squeak, and Catalina squeezed her hand to hold her still.
‘I—I am Miss Westman, Your Grace,’ Lydia said, and managed a wobbling curtsey.
‘Well, come here, girl—let me get a closer look at you,’ the duke barked.
Lydia had just
Her husband laughed and squeezed her hand. ‘My dear, they will probably be quite busy with everything that is going on at Castonbury. Touring the stables many not be first on their list.’
Phaedra gave a rueful laugh. ‘Of course, Mrs Moreno, Miss Westman. I do get rather carried away when I talk about my horses. But you must come and ride with me any time you choose. I have the sweetest, kindest little mare that should just suit Miss Westman.’
‘That is very kind of you,’ Catalina answered. Lydia still looked too terrified to say much at all.
They were led around the room again to meet yet more people, including a plethora of guests who had come in from the village and neighbouring houses for the dinner. There was also Lord Harry, the diplomatic son, and his wife, Elena, who declared herself so full of happiness to meet a countrywoman and said they had to sit down for a long talk as soon as possible. Not as congenial was Mrs Landes-Fraser (‘Aunt Wilhemina,’ Lily whispered with a shiver), an elderly lady ensconced by the fire and swathed in layers of silk, Indian shawls and a plumed turban, despite the warm evening.
She inspected them closely before snorting. ‘Pretty enough,’ she declared of Lydia, ‘but much too pale. Like your mother, are you, girl? She had no spirit either.’
Lily led them away from ‘Aunt Wilhemina’ as quickly as she could with an apologetic smile. ‘You must not mind her,’ she whispered. ‘She is that way with absolutely everyone. I was terrified of her when I first came to Castonbury.’
Catalina saw that Lydia regained her ‘spirit’ quickly enough when they met a certain Mr Hale, a handsome young man with a cap of bright blond hair and friendly eyes who was the new curate at the Castonbury church. He eagerly bowed over Lydia’s hand and smiled down at her as she stared up at him.
Catalina could see at one glance that this was a situation that called for a close watch.
‘Mr Hale has only been here a short time,’ Lily said. ‘But the vicar, my adoptive father Reverend Seagrove, cannot stop singing his praises. He has certainly brought a new life to the parish.’
‘You are too kind, Miss Seagrove,’ Mr Hale said with a smile. He still smiled at Lydia. ‘I am only doing my duty.’
‘I am sure you are absolutely marvellous at it, Mr Hale,’ Lydia said softly.
‘Where is the duke?’ Mrs Landes-Fraser suddenly cried. ‘It is past time for supper to be served. I don’t know why he suddenly insists on eating with us anyway. Most inconvenient after all this time. I shall need to eat soon or my digestion won’t be able to bear it.’
‘I’m sure Father will be here very soon,’ Phaedra said. ‘You know how excited he is about all that has happened. It’s like he has a new life in him.’
Mrs Landes-Fraser gave another snort and adjusted her shawls around her. ‘New life? Hmph! We were doing just fine with the way our life was before.’
Phaedra frowned and looked as if she very much wanted to argue, but the drawing room door opened before she could say anything.
Catalina glanced towards the man who had just come into the room. It had to be the duke himself, an imposing man with faded dark hair and clothes that looked a bit too large for him.
‘About time,’ Mrs Landes-Fraser muttered.
Harry stepped to his father’s side. ‘Here, Father, let me help you to your chair by the fire.’
The duke shook him away. ‘I am quite all right, my boy. Quit fussing so.’ His sharp grey eyes, half hidden under lowered brows, suddenly focused on Lydia. ‘And who is this, then? Must be Miss Westman, eh?’
Lydia gave a little squeak, and Catalina squeezed her hand to hold her still.
‘I—I am Miss Westman, Your Grace,’ Lydia said, and managed a wobbling curtsey.
‘Well, come here, girl—let me get a closer look at you,’ the duke barked.
Lydia had just
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