Page 30 of Watch For Me By Candlelight

‘That’s right.’ Kate smiled gratefully as she passed through the barrier. She continued along behind Margaret, and pulled open a door that connected the gift shop with the main body of the house. It took her into the stone-flagged corridors that led along past the kitchen, the laundry and all the other behind the scenes things it took to make a house the size of the Hall function in its heyday. From there, she went up the servants’ staircase and into the state rooms.

Kate wound her way easily through the rooms, nodding at the volunteer guides in each one. They were all villagers and did the job for love alone. Laura was normally in the ballroom, so Kate assumed she must have been busy today and left a gap that Cassie had to fill.

‘Kate!’ Cassie waved at her from her spot on the window seat. ‘Laura couldn’t make it today, and I had to take over. Sorry — or I would have brought your costume to you.’

‘That’s okay.’ Kate looked around — she’d always loved this room. It was airy and spacious and it didn’t take much of an effort to imagine a ball taking place. The Aldrichs of old had been famous for their Solstice Balls. They’d had one at Midsummer and one at Midwinter and a few of the oddments at the museum were related to those events — invitations and dance cards or even, in one of the display cases, a Christmas card, containing ‘all best wishes from the Aldrich family and our thanks to you for attending the Midwinter Ball.’ It was little treasures like that which made the exhibits at the Folk Museum so unique; and also why people often stayed longer than they had anticipated. There really was a lot to see there, but that didn’t stop Kate thinking about ways to encourage more visitors.

‘It’s been quiet today, actually,’ said Cassie, looking around the room herself.

‘You’ll be turning them away during your Living History Weekend. Send your overflow to my place. It’ll keep Jenna out of mischief.’

‘Is she still as bad?’ Cassie stood up and, as always, towered above Kate.

‘It’s not really her fault.’ Kate tried to be diplomatic. ‘She’s quite young, she’s been horribly spoilt and she’s a party girl. I don’t know if she’s really suited to museum work, but neither of us had a choice. I think she needs something more vibrant. Still,’ she shrugged, ‘it’ll only be for a few more weeks hopefully and I’ll get a proper replacement. She’s making noises about going back to Uni when she’s repaid Daddy what she owes him. We can but hope.’

Cassie raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re only twenty-eight. There’s not that much of an age difference between you.’

‘Maybe not; but there’s a world of difference in our attitudes. Working for me is her punishment — supposed to give her some responsibility.’ Kate rolled her eyes. ‘It’s just giving her an excuse to drape herself around any man that comes within three feet of the reception desk.’

Cassie nodded. ‘I have to agree with that one. But you — I really think you need to loosen up a bit more at times. You seem so intent on being in your comfort zone, with, let’s just say, men—’ she cast a sidelong glance at Kate, ‘—that you’re happy to be settled with someone like Chris. You’re scared of adventure.’

‘Chris and I . . .’ But she couldn’t think of a single excuse to defend herself.

Cassie continued with a small, all-knowing smile. ‘Can you see yourself being the hostess of endless dinner parties for his colleagues while they all go on about investment banking—’

‘—management consulting.’

‘Management consulting, then. Whatever. Is that what you envisage in your future?’

‘I don’t know.’ Kate couldn’t really tell Cassie that her own childhood had been so Bohemian, in some ways, that perhaps an orderly, suburban life was what she was hankering after. A life of how it “should” be.

‘Let’s put it another way,’ her friend persisted. ‘Don’t you ever want to see what it’s like to be with a different sort of man? Someone a bit more . . . adventurous.’

‘Cassie!’ Kate cast a quick look around the room, but thankfully nobody was in earshot. ‘We have no issues in bed, thank you very much!’ But then she blushed. Yeah — that was a lie, wasn’t it? Hadn’t she planned a week’s meals the last time they’d been together and she’d been staring at the ceiling, zoned out?

‘I didn’t mean that!’ Cassie laughed ‘No, I just meant someone who’s not quite such a workaholic.’

‘He’s just a very busy person with a very responsible job. That’s all. He has to behave a certain way and work silly hours to do that job.’

‘Okay.’ Cassie gave up. ‘It’s just I don’t see you as a London Latte Mummy in the future, that’s all. Because the 2.4 kids will have to come as well, you know. I just think you’re too independent to be subsumed by that City Wifey stuff. It didn’t work out when you lived down there last time. However — I shall shut up now and I go and get your costume, if you don’t mind sitting here with the clipboard for a bit. All the answers to peoples’ questions are in the notes — or at least the usual ones are. See you shortly.’

Cassie thrust the clipboard at Kate and danced off. Thwarted — and somewhat railroaded into being a temporary guide — Kate sat down in the window seat and looked out across the estate. It was a beautiful day and people were dotted amongst the green and gold of a Suffolk afternoon. It was peaceful in the ballroom, and the sun was warm through the glass. It didn’t take her long to imagine what the famous Hartsford balls had been like, and how bustling and busy and vital this old house would have been hosting them.

She wondered if Cat Tredegar had ever attended any balls. And no sooner had the thought entered her mind, than the answer came to her in a series of images as she felt herself slipping comfortably back through time, held safe in the arms of the Hall.

* * *

She was finally ready. Her gown was a heavy, gold satin with huge emerald roses embroidered on the sweeping train and bodice. The bustle was similarly detailed and the skirt had clusters of roses around the hem, the pattern disappearing into pure green satin as it moved up towards her waist. The sleeves were trimmed with little puffs of green lace, and two side panels of the same stuff fell down to the floor, one at each side of her hips. This was, by far, the nicest dress Kate had seen yet. But of course — this was the Midsummer Ball, wasn’t it?

Her hair was, unfortunately, primped and curled and piled up on her head so she barely dared do anything except stare straight ahead in case she disturbed the coiffure. She sat carefully on the edge of the bed, wondering whether she’d be walking gracefully into this thing or lurching along on her dodgy leg. It must have been four months or so since the accident? Perhaps, in these times, that wasn’t enough time to heal properly? There was a knock on the door and Kate’s heart thudded. There was still so much to be apprehensive of in these moments.

‘Come in,’ she said, without moving. It would only be Charles. Or Millie.

Kate’s eyes widened. Millie. Finally she got to meet her properly.

‘Cat!’ It was Millie. Lady Amelia Aldrich to those who didn’t know her that well.

Kate suddenly knew that Millie had been her dearest friend for more years than she cared to count and she knew their conversation would be easy. Charles and Cat were always removed to Hartsford Hall when their parents were away on a botanical expedition. Cat’s mother and Millie’s were second cousins and the children were just part of the extended family. That’s why Cat had been there during that 1885 winter Kate read about in the paper. They’d spent Christmas there, and just never went home.