When Dan came in, Oliver looked up from the book he was studying and said, ‘Problems?’
Dan sprawled in a chair to face him. ‘Possibly. My new neighbour has turned up, and she’s objecting not only to the party, but to my presence here in general.’
A window was open, and from outside came the sound of cheering and the screech of a fiddle being played loudly andbadly. Oliver waited a moment, then said, ‘I have no particular opinion about your neighbour, since I haven’t met her. But do you want to know what I think?’
‘I sense a lecture is on the way,’ said Dan.
Oliver put aside his book. ‘Perhaps. No one else is going to dare tell you, and I’ll only get away with it because I’m your brother and a wounded hero. Or so they say. Here’s what I think. You’re going exactly the wrong way about everything with these parties of yours. Are you intending to show everyone that you don’t care one jot about your break-up with Cecily?’
‘It’s true that I don’t care in the least, and how better to show it than by thoroughly enjoying myself?’ Dan hadn’t told even Oliver, the person he trusted most of all, about Cecily’s infidelity.
Oliver shifted his position to ease his wounded shoulder. ‘Well, take my word for it—it appears to the world as if you’re drowning your sorrows. Missing her, in other words. I think your best tactic is to do exactly the opposite and make yourself respectable.’
‘Make myselfrespectable?’ Dan almost laughed, except he could see that his brother was deadly serious.
‘Laugh away,’ said Oliver, smiling. ‘I know I don’t participate in the kind of antics you and your companions devise, but as an outsider here, I’ve learned quite a lot, and I repeat—show Cecily and the rest of them back in London that you are having a calm and perfectly civilised time in your new house. Come September, you can go back to London and start partying again.’ He pointed a finger lightly. ‘There’s my advice, brother, but I don’t expect for one moment that you’ll follow it.’
‘Perhaps not, but I’m listening.’ Dan suspected that his brother had more experience of love and loss than he was willing to share. Oliver had never shown a strong interest in women; they liked him because he was kind, but there had never been any hints of romance. In the army though, Dan was pretty surethere had been someone special, a fellow soldier who had died in the bloodshed at Bussaco, and Dan hoped his brother realised that he felt for him, profoundly.
Once Dan had been Oliver’s sole protector, because when their mother left and they were sent to boarding school, the whispers that their mother was a whore were followed by attempts at physical bullying. But Dan, thanks to the secret boxing lessons a junior footman had regularly given him, had been able to silence even the oldest, biggest boys and the whole school ended up cheering him on. Yes, he had saved Oliver back then—but as for healing Oliver’s loss and silent grief, Dan knew he was helpless.
The sound of that awful violin was still going on, so Dan went to close the window. Then he heard his brother say, ‘By the way. I saw a flock of oystercatchers further along the beach this morning. I made a few sketches. Do you want to see them?’
Dan turned to him and nodded. ‘Of course.’
The sketches were excellent. Dan asked what he hoped were intelligent questions about the birds, but he didn’t tell Oliver that his thoughts were occupied not by oystercatchers, not by Cecily even, but by Miss Kate Summerby, because his anger with her had returned.
He should have told her the truth—that her aunt was deeply in debt after paying for repairs to Clematis Villa and was desperate to sell some land. But the only offer Jemima had received prior to his had involved a vast hotel being built with entertainments on a scale to rival London’s Vauxhall Gardens, and Jemima had viewed Dan as her saviour when he came up with his offer. Jemima’s niece, though, had assumed he was a villain—so why should he stoop to explain the details?
He realised Oliver was closing his sketchbook and checking the time on the clock over the fireplace. ‘I’m off to my bed,’ Oliver said cheerfully. ‘Goodnight, Dan.’
Dan blurted it out. ‘Oliver. Don’t you sometimes grow tired of being alone?’
Oliver looked at him in that way of his. ‘I’ve found that it’s possible to be lonely even when you’re surrounded by so-called friends. Haven’t you learned that yet?’
Dan watched his brother go. Then he poured himself a stiff drink, downed it in one and headed outside to join the revellers once more.
All the way back to Clematis Villa, Kate was thinking,That odious man cannot have spoken the truth. My aunt adored her property and would never have parted willingly with any of it.How had the Earl of Rivington persuaded Jemima to sell up?
Kate guessed that the Earl was capable of considerable charm, though he’d known better than to use it on her. But perhaps he had used his skills on Aunt Jemima. Maybe he had taken advantage of the fact that Jemima knew she was dying, which was unbelievably, horribly hateful…
She suddenly realised Harriet was struggling to keep up. ‘Miss Kate. Do, please, slow down!’
Kate obliged. ‘I’m sorry, Harriet. I always speed up when I’m angry.’And I hobble,she muttered to herself,which is even more annoying.
‘You are angry, then?’
‘Yes. I’m very angry indeed.’
Kate marched on despite her limp. How could Jemima have made such an incredible decision? Surely she would have known that the Earl intended desecrating everything Jemima loved most around here—the wildlife, the natural beauty, the peace?
‘You were,’ Harriet was saying admiringly, ‘delightfully rude to that horrid friend of the Earl’s. Pretending to be thrilled byhis attention—that was so funny! And when you told him his breeches were unbuttoned, did you see his face?’
‘The man needed putting in his place,’ said Kate, still pressing onwards even though it made her ankle ache. ‘Harriet, there is no way I can tolerate this. You do understand that, don’t you? The Earl of Rivington has to be opposed.’
‘But, Miss Kate, I’m not quite sure how you can achieve that.’
Neither am I, thought Kate miserably.
