A Stranger at Castonbury

chapterr Fourteen

‘Do stand still for a moment, Lydia, or your hem will be uneven,’ Catalina said, but she couldn’t help but laugh. Lydia’s enthusiasm was infectious, and she made even the greyish day outside seem brighter.

As did memories of two nights ago, when she had slept for a time in Jamie’s arms. She knew it had been a mistake, that she should forget about it now, but still she smiled at the wondrous feelings that lingered. The magic between her and Jamie was still there, no matter what. That gave her something to secretly remember and cherish.

‘I am trying to be still, Mrs Moreno, truly,’ Lydia said as Catalina put the final stitches in the hem of her costume. ‘I am just very excited about the play tonight! What if I forget my lines?’

‘You won’t. Haven’t you been practising all day?’

‘I just want it all to be perfect.’ Lydia bit her lip. ‘Do you think Mr Hale will be there?’

Catalina heard the note of hope and fear in Lydia’s voice, the note that said this was really what she had been fidgeting about. Seeing the handsome curate again. She sat back on her heels and looked up at Lydia. The girl’s cheeks turned pink and she looked away to fuss with her costume skirt.

Oh, dear, Catalina thought. Her charge was infatuated with Mr Hale. He seemed a very respectable young man, and she had seen at the Assembly Rooms that he admired Lydia as well. But Lydia’s guardian seemed to have his own hopes that she would marry the duke. It had always been an unlikely prospect with Jamie, but the step down from a duke to a curate didn’t seem like one her family would likely countenance.

And Catalina couldn’t bear to see the sweet girl hurt.

‘There will be many people there, I’m sure,’ Catalina said carefully. ‘They are all sure to admire your performance. But don’t forget the wedding will be over in a few days and we’ll be going back to London.’

And she would not see Jamie again. A spasm of pain rippled over Catalina at the thought, but she pushed it away to keep her smile cool and unwavering. She stood up and busied herself gathering up the thread and pins.

‘Oh, yes,’ Lydia said quietly. ‘I had almost forgot we will have to leave.’

‘You are enjoying yourself here at Castonbury?’

‘So very much! I was silly to be so nervous about coming here. I love the country so much more than Town. Everyone is so kind, no one stares or laughs....’

Catalina glanced over to see that Lydia was staring out of the window. A stage was being erected in the gardens for that evening’s theatricals and garden party, and Mr Hale had just joined the men who were working on its construction. The handsome young man was laughing, and Lydia looked so full of wistful longing as she watched him.

‘Lydia, my dear,’ Catalina said. She gently took the girl’s arm and turned her away from the window. ‘Life in London is not so grey as all that, you know. You have much to look forward to there.’

‘Do I?’

‘Of course. There will be dances and concerts, the theatre—and you are sure to find a suitor to your liking there. One your guardian will also like.’

Lydia nodded, but Catalina could see that she was not convinced. And why should she be? Mr Hale was a very respectable choice, especially for a young lady of Lydia’s disposition. Young lovers shouldn’t be parted because of ambition or duty. Catalina knew the pain that caused all too well. She had to help Lydia be cautious, but not to lose hope too soon.

‘Let’s go over your lines again,’ Catalina said, taking up the script from the table.

An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Catalina opened it to find a footman standing there with a note in his hand. His blond hair contrasted with the red and gold of his livery, and his eyes were strangely insolent as he looked at her. ‘Excuse me, Mrs Moreno, but I was asked to deliver this to you,’ he said.

‘Thank you.’ Catalina took the note, and saw that it was Jamie’s handwriting that spelled her name across the folded paper. Breathless, she hastily closed the door and broke the wax seal to open it.





Catalina. I have not been able to see you alone for the past few days, and I fear we may not have the chance to speak privately again for a while. But I must tell you so many things—beginning with what happened to me in Spain after I thought you died...

I cared for nothing at all when you were gone. I felt cold, removed, and it didn’t matter what happened or what I did. I infiltrated a group opposed to the king in order to send their plans to the British government. I came to believe what I did was painful but necessary for the security of Europe after Napoleon, and as I did not care if I lived or died it seemed best I was the one to do this rather than a man with a wife. When I was discovered, there was a fight and I was wounded, as you can see now.

It was soon after that my brother Harry found me and I heard what had really happened at Castonbury while I was gone—the financial troubles, the scandal, father’s health. I had abandoned them when they needed me the most, and only then did I feel the full weight of my mistakes. I can only try and make it right now, for all of us.

And that is why I truly cannot bring myself to hate Alicia Walters. I have done things as terrible as she has, and yet here I have another chance with my family.

If you can, please meet me tomorrow. I will send you word on where and when. I must see you and talk to you more. J.





Catalina closed her eyes and clutched the note tightly in her hand. How Jamie must have hurt, so ill, so far from home! And she had not been there to comfort him. She still could not, not really. She feared he wouldn’t accept any comfort she could give anyway. So much had happened while they were parted, so much that she didn’t know. If they were to be together again, they would have to find a way past that, and she wasn’t sure that was even possible any longer.

Yet still there was that temptation to meet him, to run to him. She urged prudence on Lydia, but it seemed she had none herself. She never had, not when it came to Jamie.

Catalina went to the window and looked down at the small garden below. It was much quieter there than in the grand front gardens. No one rushed around getting ready for the party tonight. But the peaceful scene brought no quiet to her own heart.

‘Oh, Jamie,’ she whispered. ‘Why do you do this to me?’

Why did he make it so very hard to do what she knew she had to do?

* * *

‘...though you have ever had my heart, yet now I find I love you more because I bring you less!’

As Lydia swooned back in the leading man’s arms for the final time, everyone applauded and cheered enthusiastically.

Catalina couldn’t help but smile at Lydia’s glowing face as the girl took her bow. The Chinese lanterns strung around the stage added an otherworldly glow to the late evening. The grey skies had miraculously lifted before the play began and now the sunset was bright pink with gold streaks along the edge of the horizon. More lights were strung in the trees, and the guests were seated in rows of white and gold chairs on the grass. Everyone from the family and local gentry to the estate tenants and villagers were dressed in their finest and everyone was laughing and having a fine time.

It made Catalina’s heart feel lighter to see it. Castonbury was its own small world, and a happier one now that Jamie was home and there was a wedding to look forward to. It was a perfect warm summer evening, a moment of brightness after the gloom of years.

Catalina glanced over her shoulder to where Jamie sat with his father on the back row of chairs. The duke’s armchair had been brought out for him, and after much complaining and threatening to leave early, he had been wrapped in shawls and persuaded to stay. Even he looked happy as he clapped for the play, and leaned over to say something to Jamie.

Jamie shook his head and gave that crooked half-smile of his. As he said something in reply to his father, he caught her looking at him and actually gave her a wink.

Catalina spun back around to face the stage and tried not to laugh. It was a strange night indeed.

The actors took their last bows and yielded the stage to the musicians who were to play for the evening’s dancing. As they tuned up, footmen hurried out to take up the chairs and everyone lined up along the refreshment tables. Lily and Giles themselves were handing out glasses of punch and accepting best wishes.

Catalina had been told such a gathering was a tradition at Castonbury, a time for everyone around the estate to gather and celebrate a marriage. But it had not been held in many years, not since the duke had married his late duchess.

‘It will be a joyous day indeed when Lord Hatherton and his bride have their own party,’ Mrs Stratton had said. ‘Castonbury will be truly back to itself then.’

Lord Hatherton. It had been so easy to forget who Jamie was when he held her in his arms in that rough little cottage as the rain fell around them. But here, with all the weight and tradition of Castonbury around them, with all the people who expected so much of their heir, she was reminded.

She found a quiet place to stand under a tree at the edge of the gathering where she could watch everyone. Couples were finding their way to the dance; Lydia was sipping punch with Mr Hale, giggling and blushing at something he said to her. Catalina hated to take her away from him just yet, not on such a night. The girl couldn’t get into much trouble with the crowds around her.

Catalina drifted around the party, letting the lively music wash over her. The dancers were spinning and twirling, laughing with the sheer joy of the exercise, of dancing under the rising moon of a fine summer’s night.

The garden folly, so silent and solitary as it watched over the gathering, glowed a pure white in the night. Catalina leaned her head against the trunk of a tree and looked at it, letting the memory of her kiss there with Jamie wash over her. That was what she was doing here—building up a store of memories to carry forward with her. She could take them out like beautiful tiny jewels on cold nights to come and they would sustain her.

Suddenly the serene scene was broken by a figure running across the meadow. It was a tall man clad in dark clothes, and surely could be anyone at the party. But something about the way he moved, so quick and furtive, made her frown as she watched him. Who would flee from the festivities like that?

Just before he reached the folly, his hat tumbled from his head. He paused for a moment to retrieve it, and as he bent down the moonlight caught on his bright-coloured hair. Then he was gone.

Catalina started to run after him, but one step reminded her she only wore thin evening slippers. She could never catch him, and even if she did what would she say? Lecture him about leaving parties early?

She shook her head. It was only Jamie telling her that it was Hugh Webster behind Alicia’s scheme, and the bad memories that awoke, making her think she saw him. Hugh Webster.

Yet there had been that man she saw at the Assembly Rooms as well...

‘Mrs Moreno?’ she heard Lydia say. She turned to see the girl walking towards her, the Chinese lanterns bright on her filmy white costume. ‘Are you all right?’

Catalina smiled. ‘Very well. I was just getting a breath of air. You were splendid in the play, Lydia.’

‘Oh, Mrs Moreno, I had so much fun!’ Lydia cried happily. ‘I wish there could be a party like this every night.’

‘You would soon tire of it if there was.’

‘I never could.’ Lydia’s smile suddenly faded and she bit her lip uncertainly. ‘But did you see that strange man?’

A bolt of alarm shot through Catalina. ‘Strange man?’

‘Yes, it was the oddest thing. He wasn’t dressed up for the party or anything. He was just standing there alone, just beyond the stage.’ Lydia gestured towards the corner of the stage where the musicians now played. It was half hidden by a drapery. ‘He seemed to be watching Lord Hatherton, and he looked almost...angry.’

‘You didn’t speak to him, did you?’ Catalina said urgently.

‘Certainly not. He looked too fearsome, so glowering. I pointed him out to Mr Hale, but by then he was gone.’

‘Could you tell what he looked like?’

‘Not really. It was too dark there. But he was rather tall, and had an unusual red beard.’ Lydia’s eyes widened. ‘Who do you think he is, Mrs Moreno? A criminal escaped from gaol or something like that?’

Catalina tried to laugh to reassure Lydia. It would never do to frighten the girl, yet it did sound rather like Hugh Webster. He surely wasn’t as safely far away as Jamie seemed to think. ‘No, of course not. Probably just an uninvited guest. But if you do see someone like that again, be sure and let me know at once.’

‘Of course, Mrs Moreno.’

Catalina led Lydia back to the bright lights of the party, and soon the girl was dancing with Phaedra’s handsome husband, Bram. Once she was sure Lydia was safely occupied, she went in search of Jamie.

Fortunately she found him alone, watching the dancers. He gave her a smile as she joined him. ‘Having a good time?’ he said.

‘Yes, quite,’ Catalina answered in a soft voice. ‘Your family does know how to give a good party. Yet I fear there was an interloper here earlier.’

Jamie’s expression didn’t change, but she saw his jaw tighten. ‘An interloper?’

‘Yes. I saw him run off through the gardens, and Lydia glimpsed him over by the stage. She said he had a red beard. Could it be Webster?’

‘Neither of you approached him, did you?’ Jamie asked sharply.

‘No, not at all. I didn’t even see him very clearly.’

‘Good. Stay right here for a moment, Catalina.’

He turned away and she caught his arm. ‘You can’t go chasing after him! He is probably long gone by now. And...’ And she couldn’t bear to see him hurt again.

‘I won’t be gone long.’

Then he left her there. Catalina waited anxiously, watching the party, wondering what Jamie was doing, where he had gone. She scanned each face, making sure none of them were Webster. After what felt like hours, but was probably only about fifteen minutes, he reappeared at her side.

‘I have sent some of the footmen to search the grounds,’ he said, ‘but I am sure you are right. If it is Webster, he is long gone. If it wasn’t for the party he could never have got on Castonbury property. I should have been more vigilant.’

‘Not in such a crowd as this,’ Catalina protested. ‘But why would he be here instead of fleeing abroad somewhere? Surely he knows he has been discovered.’

Jamie shrugged, but she could see his tension in the set of his shoulders, the sharp watchfulness in his eyes as he scanned the dancers. ‘I will find out soon enough. He can’t hide for ever.’

Catalina was sure he could not, not from Jamie. But Webster had to be underhanded and unscrupulous to come up with such a scheme, and she didn’t want to see Jamie hurt again. ‘You will be careful?’

He smiled down at her. ‘I am always careful, Catalina.’

She doubtfully studied the scar on his cheek. ‘I want to help you.’

‘I won’t put you in danger,’ he said.

‘I won’t be,’ Catalina protested. ‘But I can be good at watching and observing. Perhaps I can hear some gossip about the man, ask around to see if anyone glimpsed him without knowing it.’

Jamie was quiet for a long moment, and Catalina thought he would refuse to let her help at all. But then he nodded shortly. ‘Tomorrow Lily is taking some of the guests on a picnic to gather wild strawberries. Lydia can go with them, if you would care to accompany me to Alicia’s house and talk this over with her. She thought she saw Webster a few nights ago as well.’

Jamie wanted her to see Alicia with him? Catalina looked away, not sure what to say. She hadn’t really seen Alicia since Spain, only that quick glimpse when Jamie had met her at the house in Buxton. She had no idea what she could say to her. Yet she had the strongest feeling that Hugh Webster had to be caught, no matter what it took.

‘Was he not her conspirator?’ she said. ‘Are you certain she has not been in contact with him?’

‘Quite sure. She proved herself to be an adequate actress with my family, but she is not that good. I could see the true fear in her eyes when she spoke of Webster. He had her, and all my family, in his power for too long. He surely won’t walk away from all that without a fight.’

Catalina turned his words over in her mind. Bullies like Webster might hide like the cowards they were when directly confronted, but they would wait and scheme to get what they wanted. She had met too many people just like that in her life. Webster had thought he had a grand prize in his sights; he would be enraged at losing it and would surely blame Jamie for that. Webster had hated him so much even in Spain.

She looked back at the party. Everyone was laughing and dancing, having a splendid time, and Castonbury stood as the glowing, glittering backdrop. A symbol of permanence and tradition that she had come to feel such fondness for. A man like Webster couldn’t be allowed to mar even a stone of it. Not if she could help it at all.

‘I will go with you to see Alicia, then,’ Catalina said. ‘But now I have to return to Lydia.’

‘We still have things to talk about, Catalina,’ he said.

She nodded. She knew he was right. ‘I will meet you later, then.’

And she walked back towards the gathering to find Lydia. Soon enough she would have to leave Jamie and Castonbury, just as she had warned Lydia. At least this way she could help to make sure that, after all their troubles, they were safe again.

* * *

Catalina paced the length of the folly, her footsteps echoing on the stone floor. It was the only sound she could hear in the quiet, silent darkness of the night. Even the birds were quiet in the trees.

Beyond the marble pillars, over the black-green of the lawns, the house was quiet too. A few lights glowed in the windows here and there, tiny beacons in the night, but most of the inhabitants of the house were safely asleep.

As Catalina should be, she knew that. But she couldn’t sleep yet. She had to talk to Jamie again, alone, before she could think about what to do next. Before she could see Alicia Walters and know what steps she should take.

She looked down at Jamie’s letter, held tightly in her hand. So many thoughts and emotions had gone through her when she had read those words, as if the chaos of the past and the confusion of the present had collided and mixed into one inextricable blur. She had thought when she came to England she could leave Spain and all that happened there behind, but it was always with her.

The one thing she could see clearly, though, was that her feelings for Jamie had not changed. That overwhelming connection she had sensed the very first time she saw him had only strengthened and deepened, and she couldn’t quite imagine going away from Castonbury and never seeing him again. A part of her would always be here with him.

She looked down again at the letter. After all that had happened, could they be together? Was there any way at all? Or would the past always haunt them?

Catalina laughed at herself. She didn’t even really know what Jamie thought of her now, what he wanted from her. Now that he was at home with his family, perhaps he felt the folly of wartime romance. Perhaps this letter was only his final apology, his goodbye.

Suddenly a noise out in the garden interrupted her thoughts. For an instant she remembered the man she had glimpsed running through the garden at the party and her hand tightened on the letter, crumpling it.

Then she saw the tall, lean figure moving through the moonlight and relief rushed through her. Jamie—of course. She was meant to be meeting him here, after all.

‘Catalina,’ he said as he climbed the steps to the folly. He stopped by her side, not touching her but close. ‘You came.’

‘Of course,’ she said. She couldn’t stay away from him, even when she knew she should. She saw him glance at the letter in her hand.

‘You received it, then,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ Catalina answered quietly. She slowly reached out with her free hand and gently brushed her fingertips over his cheek, the scars there. He grew tense, yet he didn’t draw away. He swayed closer, as if against his will, and suddenly she ached for all he had suffered. All they had both suffered. ‘I am sorry you were hurt.’

Jamie shook his head. ‘I deserved it. I never should have been there in the first place, as you tried to tell me. I thought I was protecting my family, my country. But in the end that belief was false, an illusion. Like so much else.’

Like their marriage? Had that been an illusion too? Sometimes Catalina was sure it must have been; real life was harsh and cold, never that beautiful. But then sometimes, when he stood close to her as he was now, she thought it had been the most real thing ever.

‘War is a terrible thing,’ she said. ‘It takes everything we believe about ourselves and strips it all away. It’s hard to tell what is real and necessary and what isn’t. You did what you felt you must do, and you paid a price for it that no one should have to.’

‘But you have paid that price as well, Catalina,’ he said roughly. ‘And that is the damnable thing. That is what I can’t forgive myself for. When I thought you were dead, that I could never explain or make it up to you...’ His words broke off as he shook his head.

Catalina’s heart ached as if it would break all over again. She moved closer to Jamie and reached up to take his beautiful, damaged face in her hands. ‘I am alive! We are both alive, and we can hear each other now. That’s the important thing, Jamie, mi corazón. Tell me whatever you want now, and I will hear and understand.’

Rather than talk though, Jamie curled his hands around her bare arms and pressed her back against the cool marble column. He held her there gently, but Catalina knew she couldn’t break away from him. His body was so close to hers, she could feel every inch of his warm hardness against her, and she wanted to press even closer. To curl herself up in him and never be apart from him again.

It was the most bittersweet longing. She tilted back her head to stare at the stark lines of his austere face in the chalk-white light, as if she could memorise him.

‘Catalina, Catalina,’ he said, and she could hear an echoing longing in his voice. ‘I only ever wanted to make you smile, to make you happy, but instead I ruined everything. Yet I can’t stay away from you. Why do you make me so insane?’

Catalina shook her head, her thoughts spinning madly. He made her insane. He took her out of herself until she no longer knew what to do.

‘Jamie, I...’ she whispered. She stared up into his eyes, until with a groan his head swooped down over hers. His lips met the soft curve of her neck, and her knees grew weak at the touch of his kiss. His arms tightened around her, holding her up as she fell.

‘Jamie,’ she gasped, and his mouth came hard over hers to catch the sound.

His tongue slid over hers and she met him, passion for passion. She twined her arms around his neck and wound her fingers through his hair. He lifted her high against the column and she wrapped her legs around his waist as her skirts fell around them to bind them together.

It took only that, a touch, a kiss, a look, to ignite the fire between them. She wanted it, wanted him so much, and yet it frightened her too.

Jamie seemed to sense her confusion, for his kiss trailed from her mouth and he rested his head on her shoulder as he held her there. They were so, so close, but also so far.

‘Forgive me, Catalina,’ he said. ‘That is what I’ve wanted to say for all these years. Forgive me.’

‘I do forgive you,’ she answered. ‘You did what you felt you had to.’

‘Forgive—but not forget?’

She had no answer for that. She could only hold on to him for that moment and hope that was enough.