She jumped to her feet and reached out a hand to him. “Let us go and look,” she said. “Let us go and see if it will be possible to have both. Though I am sure it will.”
He looked up at her and her outstretched hand and felt something in his soul shift. Perhaps it was nothing more than an easing of guilt. Maybe marriage would suit her after all, even with a man she would not have chosen in a million years if she could have made a free choice. And even without someone who could be heart of her heart and soul of her soul. As soon as the month was over, he was going to start working on giving her babies. She would surely be a wonderful mother-one who would enjoy her children. Had she not taught young children at that village in which she had grown up?
And before the month was over he was going to be able to look her in the eye without even having to make use of what she called his mask and tell her that he loved her. Even if he did not know quite what he meant by the words, he was going to say them. And mean them too as far as he was able.
He stood up and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together.
“Very well, then,” he said with a sigh. “But you are not envisioning me with a shovel in my hands, digging holes for the apple trees, are you, Katherine?”
Ah, he loved to see her laugh.
“No, of course not,” she said. “I picture you wielding an axe and a saw, making and erecting trellises and arches for my rose arbor.”
“Good Lord,” he said. “And yours, is it?”
“And remember,” she said, “that you will be taking yet another step toward full independence at the end of the month. You will be hosting a revival of the Cedarhurst fete and ball.”
“I am going to be running a three-legged race, am I?” he said, looking at her sidelong.
“Definitely,” she said.
“With you as a partner?”
“Must I?” she asked him.
“You must,” he assured her.
“Oh, very well, then.”
“And I am going to be judging embroidered angels and flowers, am I?” he asked.
“I will do that,” she told him. “You may taste the fruit tarts.”
“Hmm,” he said. “And waltz with you during the evening?”
“Yes,” she said.
They strolled along the terrace in the direction of the east side of the house just like a contentedly married couple.
A mildly panic-provoking thought.
18
KATHERINE went down to the servants’ quarters after luncheon while Jasper went in search of his steward. And she had a word with the housekeeper and the cook and the butler. They must be consulted, after all, before she proceeded further with plans for the fete. It was upon them that much of the work would fall-and they already had a houseful of guests to prepare for.
They were indeed alarmed at her initial suggestion. A grand fete and ball in one month?
But as soon as she had assured them that the bulk of the planning would be hers and that most of the work would be shared among whichever neighbors could be persuaded to take on the task, they became almost instantly enthusiastic, even excited-and comically offended that she should try to release them from some of the work.
“But I am going to be in charge of the food, mind,” the cook declared in a voice that brooked no contradiction. “I don’t mind a bit of help with the planning and even the cooking, my lady, but I am going to be in charge.”
“I never thought for an instant that you would not be,” Katherine said, smiling. “Indeed, I hoped you would be, Mrs. Oliver, as I suspect the kitchens here would collapse if ever you were to abandon them.”
“And I will be in charge of decorating the house and ballroom,” Mrs. Siddon said, “and ordering the supplies. You will find any number of people, my lady, who will be only too eager to help out and give you ideas and even set them into effect, but I must be in charge of the house.”
“And happy I am to hear you say it,” Katherine assured her. “But I will see to it that you get all the help you need.”
“I will speak to Benton myself, my lady,” the butler said. And lest she not remember who that was, “The head gardener, my lady. He will want to supply all the flowers for the ballroom from the kitchen gardens and the greenhouses.”
“I was so hoping he would,” Katherine said. “And I would be much obliged if you would ask him.”
“And I will be in charge of the food tables,” he said as if he thought she might argue, “and the footmen serving at them.”
“Oh,” she said, “how very kind you are, Mr. Couch.”
“It will be just like old times,” Mrs. Oliver said with a sigh. “Ah, the fete at Cedarhurst was always the best day of the whole year. It was always good, clean fun for everyone, I don’t care what anyone says to the contrary. It was not the devil’s own work. The very idea!”
“The last one was less than a year before Lord Montford died,” Mrs. Siddon said. “Less than a year before his present lordship was born. Bless my soul, how quickly time does fly. Though there have been long, dreary years in between, there is no denying.”
“Those days,” the butler said, “are like something out of another lifetime.”
“And now they are to be resurrected,” Katherine said. “Oh, I do want the fete to be as it always was-with some new touches too. I want it to be perfect and something everyone will want repeated every year for the rest of their lives.”
“The people you need to speak with, my lady,” Mrs. Siddon said briskly, “are…”
And she listed an impressive number of mostly older people in the neighborhood. Mrs. Oliver and Mr. Couch added the names of some younger people, who maybe did not remember the fetes but who would be only too delighted to plan a new one.
They could not go visiting at all during the rest of that day as Jasper needed to be busy with the steward, though he did come and fetch her from the drawing room during the afternoon so that she could join him, Mr. Knowles, and Mr. Benton on the east lawn. They spent an hour out there, discussing what was wanted and needed, pacing back and forth across the grass to see how large the orchard could be and where exactly the rose arbor should be situated.
It rather intrigued Katherine to see Jasper without any of the artifice he affected in London and kept up most of the time when alone with her. With the two men he was all seriousness, all business, all energy and intelligence. And he clearly knew a great deal about land and drainage and plants and sunshine and shade and everything else one needed to know to be a successful gardener.
He knew the house and he knew the park. He knew all of his ancestors pictured in the gallery. He might have hated Cedarhurst for most of his life, but he had not neglected it or his duty to it.
She found it all a little disconcerting. And reassuring too. She could like this man.
The rest of the afternoon she spent in the making of lists of things that would need to be done if the fete and the ball were to be a success. Something of this magnitude would usually take a whole year to plan, she guessed. But there was only one month.
It was a daunting, exhilarating thought.
Perhaps, as Jasper had assured her on more than one occasion, this new life would not be so bad after all.
They spent much of the next three days calling upon the neighbors, some of them in the village, some in the countryside around. Jasper had known them all as a boy, though only a few of them had been deemed worthy of being officially visited or of being invited to visit or dine. He had played with some of their children whenever he could steal away to do so, and indeed some of those children were now grown up and settled with families of their own.
He had enjoyed genial relations with everyone since growing to adulthood. But he had not spent a great deal of time here, except that one year when the disaster of the Vauxhall wager had driven him home. He had never had any problem getting along with his neighbors.