I looked at him again and he still had that amazing smile, which in turn, forced me to smile even bigger.
“What was your first day like?” I asked of him.
“Also, entertaining.”
“It seems I’m not the only one Mr Kemp didn’t take to straight away?”
“Mr Kemp is a complicated man, he means well but is hard in his ways,” he said with a reassuring grin.
Again, his comments were almost defending Mr Kemp’s behaviour. Our walk was short, which was a disappointment. I have never taken to walking but tonight I would have walked to London with him.
As we got to the bottom of the stairs that led to our rooms, Mr Barclay slowed down to let me go ahead.
“We are very happy that you are here, Catherine,” he whispered with his devilish smile as he turned his face away.
Did he just flirt with me? Did I just dream that? If only I had a replay button so I could be certain…
I smiled timidly in response; words seemed to have escaped me.
“Thank you, that means a lot to me. I am sorry that I have upset Mr Kemp in any way by being here.”
“You belong here, Catherine.”
Mr Barclay lowered his head slightly. He had one arm on the beginning of the balustrade, as did I even though I stood three steps above him. I looked at him, taking in everything I could while he was looking away. When he suddenly looked up at me, our eyes met. We looked at each other for a minute. It felt like his eyes were talking to me at a hundred miles per hour. I really should get a second opinion on that hit on my head.
“Good night, Catherine.”
“Good night, Mr Barclay.”
“Please call me James,” he said as he let go of the staircase and walked around me. “You look beautiful tonight.”
He passed me, not waiting for an answer or a reaction. Just as well, because I was seconds away from saying something I might regret. I turned my head around to see him but he was already gone. I turned back. My mouth was open in shock, before a big smile formed across my face. I closed my eyes and paused for a while.
“Tell me, if you are sleeping on the staircase, could I have my room back?” A familiar voice interrupted my thoughts from the top of the staircase.
Mr Kemp again, ruining the moment. I turned around and made my way up the stairs. As I approached him, I looked down into his beady eyes and asked him straight out:
“Mr Kemp, are you going to be sneaking up on me for my entire stay?”
I didn’t wait for a reply and kept walking past him and into my room. As I closed my door, my heart was racing. I was in disbelief that I had just spoken to him that way, but I didn’t regret it. He made it obvious that he didn’t like me, and didn’t want me here. My hands were sweaty and I was feeling quite hot and flustered. I’ve never been good with confrontations. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and tried to remember the feeling I was enjoying before it was interrupted. It didn’t take long to get those thoughts back again. I quickly got out of my dress and removed my makeup, tied my hair up and got into something to sleep in. I turned off the lights and hopped into bed, leaving a side lamp on.
As soon as I closed my eyes, his face came to me.
How can anyone possibly feel this way about a total stranger?
I felt silly and laughed at myself.
I thought it might be better if I put those emotions into my story rather than my life.
I couldn’t sleep, I was on way too much of high, so I decided to pull out my laptop and continue on with Victoria.
As I made my way to the parlour, I tried to contain my emotions. I was troubled and unaware how to conduct myself in Mr Bates’ company. Trying to counsel myself these past weeks had been agonising and now, moments away from being next to him, I felt somewhat anxious and terrified.
As I approached the door I could hear laughter from the parlour, what could possibly be so amusing at this hour of the day, I wondered.
“There you are, I have almost forgotten what you looked like,” my father howled from across the room. There beside him stood the most agreeable gentleman ever seen. He stood tall, certain and unafraid, unlike myself.
“Good day, father,” I said, rolling my eyes at his earlier remark.
“Now Victoria, if I left you unaccompanied with Mr Bates, will you assure me that you will be pleasant?” my father added with mockery in his tone, a repayment for my behaviour these past weeks, I am sure.
Taking no notice of my father’s mischievous comment, I turned my attention to Jonathon. His gaze had not left me since I entered the room and the serious look on his face was frightening.
My father turned to Jonathon and shook his hand, saying goodbye. As he walked passed me he kissed me on the cheek, which I took as an apology for his roguish behaviour.
When Jonathon and I were finally alone, a silence blanketed the room in an instant and all that could be heard were the raindrops on the window and my heart thumping.
“Thank you for seeing me this morning. I hear that it is easier to have a meet with the queen than with you,” he joked as he slowly walked towards me.
I was puzzled by his comment and he smiled at my reaction.
“Charles Barton,” he clarified as he walked past and continued behind me.
“Oh, I see,” I said as I turned around to face him.
“Are you well?”
“Yes, thank you, and you?”
“Well, thank you.”
“Will you be attending the dinner party at the Barton’s tomorrow evening?”
“Well… I have not yet decided. Charlotte is away in Bath and I would feel out of place without her company.”
“Will you not let me keep you company tomorrow night?”
I took a pause, not wanting to respond at once: I endeavoured to display decorum and restraint. It was no use; I would have married him if he had asked. I could not contain my joy; my face came alive as a smile, the first in weeks, surfaced.
“Yes,” I finally replied.
“I must warn you, Charles will be very upset…”
“Excellent.”
I must have slept deeply because when I woke, I couldn’t recall anything I had dreamt about.
I forced my eyelids open. It was still dark and I could hear the rain outside. Not surprisingly, my head was still sore — a souvenir of my embarrassing first day.
Making my way to the window I was surprised to see the students had started to arrive. Further up the laneway, very expensive-looking cars were dropping off boys, many of whom looked more like young men than boys.
Why are they here so early?
I looked at my watch to find that it wasn’t as early as I thought it was. Outside looked like five o’clock in the morning, but really it was just after seven.
Better get ready.
I wondered what impression I would make on the students today. I also wondered what feel the college would now have, with the buzz of so many students.
It took me well under an hour to shower and get ready. It was almost 8 o’clock when I left my room. Further down the hallway, groups of teachers stood outside their doors chatting and they smiled and nodded to me as a ‘good morning’ gesture. Recognising some from last night’s dinner, I smiled back and raised my head to them, returning the greeting, then started to make my way to the stairs.