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I saw a woman, very straight, rather angular, in an elegantly cut riding habit. Another woman rode behind her.

"Good morning. Lady Rosslyn," said Christobel in a very respectful voice. "Good morning. Mistress Galloway."

The woman who was in front returned Christobel's greeting with a curt nod. The other lady smiled rather hesitantly at her.

Then Lady Rosslyn was on a level with me. The look she gave me made me shiver, for it really seemed quite malevolent. Then she lowered her eyes, as though she did not wish to look at me, and passed on by. The other lady, who was quite a contrast, was plump and rosy-cheeked, rather subdued in manner. She also gave me a hesitant smile, having looked at me quickly and lowered her eyes as she passed.

When they were out of earshot, Christobel said: "Well, that was unfortunate."

"Why?"

"Meeting like that. She had to look at us."

"It was ... my father's wife, was it not?"

"It was indeed. A very haughty lady, as you saw, and not very pleased to come face to face with a reminder of her husband's misdeeds."

"You mean ... me?"

"Don't look so unhappy. I wonder we haven't met before. It would have been better if we had not been quite so close. But meeting in the lane like that ... well, it was like forcing ourselves upon her ladyship's notice, was it not?"

"She did not like me, I could see."

"You could scarcely expect her to welcome you with honeyed words, could you?"

"No, but ..."

"I know. You're going to say it was no fault of yours. Nor was it. Whose fault, then? Hers? For not producing the desired offspring? I doubt not that my lord would have had his little adventures in any case. Well, don't let it disturb you, dear child. The lady does not like you. Is it because you remind her of her husband's irrepressible gallantries or of her own shortcomings? Who can say? So let us forget the matter."

"And the other lady?"

"Mistress Margaret Galloway—a connection of her ladyship who lives on her bounty, I believe, and is her constant companion. Now, don't fret, you're hardly likely to come into such close contact again with her ladyship, and that was only a brief encounter."

So Christobel dealt with the matter in her own lighthearted way.

Over the next year or so I did see Lady Rosslyn again on one or two occasions—not in a narrow lane, but on the road, and Christobel, who was invariably with me, would receive the brief nod of recognition while I was given a quick glance before being completely ignored.

One day when we rode over to Featherston, Carrie had news for us.

"What do you think?" she said. "Lady Rosslyn has been taken ill."

"Very ill?" asked Christobel.

Carrie nodded. "She's had a seizure. They didn't think she'd live ... but she's come through. I met Mistress Hardy, who cooks in the kitchens at the Manor, and she told me all about it."

"And you are going to tell us," said Christobel.

"If you want to hear," retorted Carrie.

"You know we are all agog."

"Well, it seems she cannot walk. She was all seized down one side. They say she can't talk much either. That cousin of hers found her. She went in one morning and there her ladyship was. They've had the doctor up there. They say his lordship is sending for some doctor from London. He's on his way. The cousin will be there looking after her. They've been together for years ... almost as soon as she came to the Manor, so she'll stay to look after her."

"Is she ... ?" asked Christobel.

"Not yet. They say there's a chance she'll live. But, poor thing, what's life going to be like when you can't move and can't speak?"

I thought of that proud, arrogant woman whom I had met in the lane, unable to move ... unable to speak ... depending on others. In spite of everything, I felt an immense pity for her.

Later we heard that Lady Rosslyn was still alive and that the cousin. Mistress Margaret Galloway, was indeed looking after her.

There was one matter which was giving me cause for thought above all else, and that was the relationship between Christobel and James Morton. It was gradually brought to my notice that they preferred each other's company to that of any other. Christobel and I often met him when we were riding and then I had the distinct impression that, although he was always friendly towards me, he would have been happier if Christobel had been alone.

Therefore I was not altogether surprised when, one day, as Christobel and I sat reading in that little room in the Dower House which had been set aside for what were called my "lessons," she suddenly said to me: "James wants me to marry him."

"And are you going to?" I asked.

"Of course," she said.

So they were betrothed. There was no reason why the marriage should be delayed. James was manager of the Rosslyn estate and so had a good home to offer her. He was on excellent terms with Lord Rosslyn and mingled with the guests on occasions, as my mother had told me my grandfather had done all those years ago on the estate he had managed.

So plans for the wedding were discussed at great length.

I should not see so much of Christobel when she was married, of course, but she would be close at hand, so it was not as though we should have to face a sad farewell. We had become so much a part of each other's lives that that would have been a very great wrench, but why contemplate it when it was not to take place?

I had had occasional meetings with my father over the years I had been at the Dower House and one day he rode over to see Luke and me. Luke happened to be out, for my father had not announced his coming, and, as Christobel was with James, my father and I were alone together.

He said: "I wanted to talk to you alone, Kate. I will talk to Luke later, for this concerns him too. This coming marriage will mean that Christobel will no longer be here and you will be without your governess. You and she have been friends and I have seen how she has brought you along. But of course she will have other duties now."

I wondered if he were contemplating providing me with a new governess.

I said: "I am not a child any more. I shall be sixteen soon. Christobel has said that there is little more she can teach me."

He nodded. "Christobel has been a good companion for you ... and will still be your friend. But I have been thinking a good deal about your future, yours and Luke's. I am going to bring you both to the Manor. I have wanted to do this for a long time."

I gasped.

"The idea does not please you?" he enquired.

"I ... I don't know. It is so unexpected that I never thought ..."

"I should have brought you there in the beginning, but there were difficulties."

I knew the one difficulty. The haughty lady whom I had met in the lane would be the chief obstacle, I supposed.

"Kate," he said, "I want you to understand ..."

"I know you have done what you could for us ..."I began.

"I want to tell you of this myself. You are my daughter, Kate. That means a great deal to me. And Luke is my son. I fancy you are a little fond of me."

"But of course. You have been kind to me."

"I mean as a father."

"Well, yes ... a kind of father."

"A kind of father," he said rather sadly. "I wish I could have been more like a real one. You see, it would have been very difficult for me at the time."

"I know."

"I think you know a great deal about the situation, Kate."

"My mother told me when she knew she was dying. She thought I ought to know."

"I loved your mother dearly, you know that, Kate."

"Did you? And yet ..."

"You know about my deceit, of course."

"Yes, she told me that too."

"You must have thought I was a very wicked man."

I was silent.

"Thoughtless ..." he went on. "In the society in which I lived, it was something which men did. It was thought to be rather amusing, God forgive us. Your mother was different from others. Most of the ladies involved in such matters would have settled for a good endowment of some sort ... but not your mother. She would have nothing. I was wrong. I was wicked. Please understand, Kate."