Bolitho turned to another glass door and through it watched two women walking up towards the house.
Nancy never seemed to change, except that she was plumper each time he saw her. But with the kind of life she shared with Roxby it would have been surprising otherwise. She was the only one of his family who had their mother's fair looks and complexion; her children were the same. But Bolitho could only stare at her companion with a kind of disbelief. He knew it was Felicity, who would be about fifty-one; she had the same Bolitho eyes and profile, but the dark hair was gone, replaced entirely by grey, while her face and cheeks were ashen as if she had only recently recovered from a fever.
Even when she entered the room and nodded her head to him, very slowly, he could sense no contact. She was a complete stranger.
Nancy ran forward and threw her arms around him, kissing him. She smelt fresh and sweet-like the garden, he thought.
"After all these years, here is our Felicity back home again! " Her voice was too bright, and Bolitho thought he saw a warning glance from her husband.
Bolitho said, "I should like to introduce you to Catherine."
Felicity studied her coldly, then gave a brief curtsy. "My lady. I cannot bid you welcome here, as this is not my house… nor do I have one at present."
Roxby said, "We'll soon take care of that, what?"
Bolitho said, "I was sorry to learn of Raymond's death. It must have been a terrible shock."
She did not appear to hear. "I have sent word to Edmund by way of the regimental agents, Cox and Greenwood. My other son Miles has returned to England with me." Her deepset eyes turned to Catherine again and seemed to strip her naked, as she added, "It was not an easy life. I had a little girl, you know, but she died out there.
Her father always wanted a girl, you see."
Catherine looked at her gravely. "I am sorry to hear that. I grew up in a demanding climate and I can sympathise."
Felicity nodded. "Of course. I had forgotten. You were married to a Spaniard before you met your present husband, the viscount."
Roxby said thickly, "Some wine, Richard?"
Bolitho shook his head. What had happened to Felicity? Or had she always been like this?
He said, "Catherine sent word that you were always welcome at our house while you are deciding where to settle. While I was away at sea-and Catherine had no idea when I was returning home-she acted as she knew I would wish."
Felicity sat down in a high-backed gilt chair, "It has not been my home since I met and married Raymond. There is certainly no place there for me now." She turned her gaze on Bolitho. "But you always were a thoughtless fellow, even as a child."
Catherine said, "I find that hard to believe, Mrs Vincent. I know of no one more thoughtful when it comes to others." Her eyes flashed but her voice remained calm. "Even when that compassion is not returned."
"Of course." Felicity dusted a speck of dust from her sleeve. "You would be in a better position than anyone to know his qualities, or otherwise."
Catherine turned away and Bolitho saw her fingers digging into the fold of her riding skirt. It had been a mistake. He would make his excuses to Nancy and leave.
Felicity said, "However, there is a favour I will ask of you, Richard." She looked at him, her face quite composed. "My son Miles has quit the East India Company. Perhaps you could arrange for him to be accepted for the King's service? I have but few funds, and he would be quick to gain promotion."
Bolitho crossed the room and took Catherine's arm. "I will do what I can for him. Perhaps I could meet him at some time."
Then he said, "I can accept the hurt which Raymond's loss has done you. But I cannot, will not, tolerate your rudeness to Catherine. This house is not mine either, otherwise I might forget myself further! "
In those few seconds he saw it all. Catherine, very still, Nancy, fingers to her mouth and near to tears, and Roxby puffing out his cheeks, doubtless wishing he was anywhere else but here. Only Felicity seemed cool and unmoved. She needed a favour of him, but her dislike for Catherine had almost ruined even that.
Outside the tall doors Roxby muttered, "Sorry about that, Richard. Damn bad business all round." To Catherine he added, "She'll come round, m'dear, you'll see. Women are a funny lot, y'know! " He took her proffered hand and touched it with his lips.
She smiled at him. "Aren't we, though?" Then she turned as the two horses were led around the house from the stable-yard. "I never knew her poor husband, of course." When she looked at Roxby again the smile was gone. "But it sounds as if he is well out of it. And as far as I am concerned I don't care if she comes round or
not! "
Once outside the gates again Bolitho reached over and took her hand. Her whole body was shaking.
He said, "I am so sorry, Kate."
"It wasn't that, Richard. I am used to bitches, but I'll not have her talking to you like that! " The horses waited as if sensing her anger. Then she looked at him and said, "She is your sister but I would never have guessed it. After all you have done, for me and everyone else, and how you have paid dearly for it-" She shook her head as if to drive it all away. "Well, she can just go to hell! "
He squeezed her arm and asked quietly, "Tiger?"
She nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her glove.
"Never doubt it! " Then she laughed, "I'll race you back to the house." Then she was gone, the horse kicking up dirt from the road before Bolitho could move.
Roxby watched from the steps of his great house until they had both vanished into the fields.
Beside him his groom, who had worked for him for many years, remarked, "A lively mare an' no mistake, sir."
Roxby stared at him but the man's eyes were devoid of amusement. "Er, yes, quite so, Tom." Then he ambled into the house, adjusting his face for whatever was waiting.
What a woman, he thought. No wonder Bolitho looked so well, so young. He caught sight of himself in a tall mirror as he passed through the hallway Bolitho was about his own age, and looked years younger. With a woman like that… He closed his mind and strode into the room they had just left, and felt a sudden relief at finding his wife alone.
"She's gone to lie down, Lewis."
Roxby gave a noncommittal grunt. But he was angry at seeing the tearstains on her cheeks.
"I'll see what I can manage about finding her a suitable house, m'dear." He walked round the chair and patted her hair fondly, his mind busy with how soon he could rid the place of her sister.
Then he said abruptly, "I wonder how she knows so much about Catherine's past? I certainly didn't tell her anything. Don't know anythin' neither, dammit! "
Nancy took his hand and kissed it. "I wondered about that too." She stood up, the mood passing. "I'll go and arrange supper for this evening, Lewis." Then she added, "Richard looks so much better than when he lost his ship last October. They must be good for one another."
Roxby made certain there were no servants nearby and patted her buttock as she passed.
"You're not so bad yourself, m'dear! " He saw the flush mount to her cheeks, and the way she tidied her hair. Perhaps she was remembering how they had been before the children, and all the work to increase their wealth and living standards. Maybe like the two people he had seen galloping down the lane as if they hadn't a care in the world.
It did not occur to him that his homely wife might have been thinking back down the years about the young midshipman she had fallen in love with; and had been seeing herself with him.
For two whole weeks life continued for Bolitho and his Catherine in the same unplanned, idyllic fashion. Rides down forgotten lanes, or long walks above the sea, never at a loss for words, each ready to contribute towards their new-found isolation.