A sigh broke from Torquil; he uncovered his eyes, and turned, blinking at the stranger. ‘Why – why – Philip!’ he exclaimed, starting forward with every sign of delight.
The stranger smiled at him. ‘Well, bantling? How do you do?’ he said, holding out his hand.
Torquil clasped it eagerly. ‘Oh, famously! But how is this? Did we expect you? Have you come to stay?’
‘For a day or two. No, you didn’t expect me. Am I unwelcome?’
‘You will be, with Mama!’ said Torquil, giggling. His eyes fell on Kate; he said: ‘Oh, are you there, coz? This is Philip, you know! Philip, this is Cousin Kate!’
She was too much surprised by his unaffected pleasure in his Cousin Philip’s arrival to take more than cursory note of the artless surprise in his voice when he saw that she was still in the room. When she recalled how viciously he had spoken to her of Philip Broome, she could only marvel at him, and congratulate herself on not having believed his accusations.
‘Ah, yes!’ said Philip, bowing slightly. ‘Cousin Kate!’
‘I don’t think I can claim even remote kinship with you, sir,’ she retorted, nettled by his tone.
‘Can’t you? Why not?’
‘I am merely Lady Broome’s half-niece. I can only be, at the best – or worst – a connection of yours!’
This flash of spirit seemed to amuse him; a reluctant smile warmed his eyes; he said: ‘Bravo!’
‘Philip, have you seen my father?’ interrupted Torquil.
‘No, not yet: Pennymore tells me that he’s not in very plump currant, and doesn’t leave his room until noon. Tenby is helping him to dress, so I came to find you instead.’
‘Oh, yes! I’m glad you did: I have so much to tell you!’
Kate went quietly out of the room, her mind in turmoil. Although she had not believed that he could be responsible for the various accidents which had befallen Torquil, she had had no doubt that Torquil hated him, and she had been prepared to dislike him. But Torquil had astonished her by welcoming him with real pleasure; and she did not dislike him. He had given her every reason to do so; but when she had seen him standing in the doorway she had received the instant impression that she beheld a man in whom one could place one’s trust, without fearing to be betrayed. Then she had read the contempt in his eyes, and she had been as much shocked as enraged. What right, she asked herself, had he to despise her? What cause had she ever given him? How dared he? she silently demanded, lashing herself into a fury.
It was in this mood of burning chagrin that she encountered Lady Broome, halfway up the stairs. Lady Broome barred her progress, laying a hand on her arm, and saying, with a lightness at variance with the keen glance she directed at her face: ‘Whither away, Kate? You look to be out of reason cross! Can it be that Mr Philip Broome has set up your hackles? Oh, yes! I know that he has descended on us, and I am heartily sorry for it! We go on very much better without him. Don’t you like him?’
‘No, ma’am, I do not!’ replied Kate, with undue vehemence. ‘I – I think him an – an odious person!’
‘Do you? Well, so do I – to give you the word with no bark on it! But it won’t do to say so, you know: Sir Timothy dotes on him! His influence is one which I have always deprecated. He is a man of large ambitions, one of which, unless I much mistake the matter, is to succeed to the title and the estates. When I tell you that one life only stands between him and the realization of his ambition, you won’t be astonished that I should regard him with – how shall I put it? – dread was the word which sprang to my tongue, but perhaps that is a little too strong! I’ll say, instead, apprehension.’
Kate regarded her with painful intensity. ‘Torquil told me once, ma’am, that all the accidents which had befallen him occurred when his cousin was staying at Staplewood. I didn’t believe that Mr Philip Broome could have been responsible for any of them, but – but was he?’
Lady Broome seemed to hesitate before replying: ‘It is hard to see how he could have been. You will not mention this, if you please!’
‘No, ma’am,’ Kate said obediently. She lingered, frowning, and then said, turning her eyes once more upon her aunt: ‘But I don’t understand! I had supposed Torquil to hold his cousin in – in positive hatred, but when he saw him, just now, he was glad !’
‘Was he? Well, that doesn’t surprise me as much as it seems to have surprised you, my dear! Torquil is a creature of moods! He was used, when a child, to adore Philip, and I daresay some of that old feeling remains. Depend upon it, he will have come to cuffs with him before the day is out!’
He did not do so, but it was easy to see that his mood underwent a change, becoming steadily more uncertain as the day wore on. For this, Kate considered, Dr Delabole was a good deal to blame, for when Torquil dragged his cousin off to the stables he found an excuse to accompany them, showing, she thought, a sad want of tact. Nothing could have been more exactly calculated to set up Torquil’s back! He told the doctor, very rudely, that he was not wanted, and it had been Philip’s intervention which had averted an explosion. Philip had recommended him to try for a little conduct, and although he had flushed up to the roots of his hair he had subsided. It was obvious that he stood greatly in awe of Philip, which was not, thought Kate, at all surprising. It was a case of the weak character yielding to the strong: just as Lady Broome could with one word quell a sudden spurt of temper, so too could Philip.
When the party assembled for dinner, Sir Timothy came in leaning on Philip’s arm. He was pathetically glad to see his nephew again, speaking fondly to him, and regarding him with a mixture of pride and affection. Kate could not wonder at it, for the affection was clearly mutual, and Philip treated him with the deference which was almost wholly hard to find in his son. The contrast between the man and the boy was painful: Torquil was beautiful, but his manners were those of a spoiled child. Towards his social inferiors he was arrogant, and although he was civil to his father and mother, his civility was grudging. Kate had never been able to discover a trace of affection in him for either of his parents, and had again and again been shocked by his indifference. He was obedient to his mother only because he feared her; his father he largely ignored. His temper was quite uncontrolled: the least thing would cause him to fly up into the boughs; and he could sulk for days. Philip, on the other hand, had good manners, and if his countenance was stern he had only to smile to make it easy to see why Sir Timothy loved him. There was nothing of the dandy in his appearance, but he dressed with a neatness and a propriety which cast into strong and unflattering relief Torquil’s negligent style.
Sir Timothy, when Kate came into the room, welcomed her with a smile, and an outstretched hand. ‘Ah, here she is!’ he said. ‘Come here, my dear, and let me make my nephew known to you!’
‘I have already had the honour of making Miss Malvern’s acquaintance, sir.’
‘Oh, that is too bad! I had promised myself the pleasure of introducing you to her. She is our good angel – a ray of sunshine in the house!’
Philip bowed politely. Kate, a good deal embarrassed, took the frail hand held out to her, but said: ‘Thank you, sir! You are a great deal too kind, but you are putting me to the blush. Besides, if you make me out to be beyond the common Mr Broome will be disappointed!’
‘By no means, Miss Malvern! I think you quite beyond the common.’
‘Mr Broome – Miss Malvern – ! What is all this formality?’ asked Sir Timothy playfully. ‘Let me tell you, Philip, that we have decided that she shall be Cousin Kate!’
‘Well, sir, I did so address her, but she refused to acknowledge the relationship.’ He turned his head towards Lady Broome. ‘I understand she is your half-niece, Minerva?’
‘My half-brother’s only child,’ she answered shortly.
‘Just so! I own I haven’t worked out the exact degree of our relationship, but she informs me that
– at the worst – we can only be connections!’
‘Oh, pooh! no need to stand upon points!’ said Sir Timothy, brushing the objection aside. He smiled up at Kate, as she stood beside his chair. ‘She is the daughter of my old age, and that makes her your cousin.’
Kate could only be thankful that Pennymore chose at this moment to announce dinner. Sir Timothy, struggling to rise from his chair, found a strong hand under his elbow, and said: ‘Thank you, my boy. Not as steady on my pins as I was used to be! Now, if you’ll lend me your arm, we’ll go down to dinner.’
It occurred forcibly to Kate that Torquil’s support had been neither offered nor requested. He was lounging by one of the windows, his brow overcast; and it was not until Lady Broome called upon him to escort her that he was roused from abstraction. He got up, but muttered disagreeably that he wondered why she chose to go down on his arm rather than Matthew’s.
While Kate sat in her usual place at the dinner-table, on Sir Timothy’s right, Mr Philip Broome was on his left: an arrangement that brought them opposite each other. It seemed to her that whenever she looked up she found that he was watching her, until at last, considerably ruffled, she tried to stare him down. She might have succeeded if the absurdity of it had not struck her, and made her utter an involuntary chuckle. Then, as this drew everyone’s attention to her, she lowered her gaze to her plate, and replied, in answer to her aunt’s demand to know what had amused her: ‘Nothing, ma’am: I beg your pardon!’
Torquil, who had been pushing the food about on his plate, thrust it away suddenly, and said: ‘Philip, will you play billiards after dinner?’
Philip looked at him under his brows, frowning a little. ‘Yes, if you wish,’ he replied.
‘Well, I do wish! I’m tired of playing with Matthew: he always lets me win. And Kate is a wretched player!’
‘So you are obliged to let her win!’ said the doctor quizzingly.
‘No, I’m not,’ said Torquil, staring at him. ‘Why should I?’
‘Chivalry, dear boy! chivalry!’
‘Oh, Kate don’t care for that stuff, do you, coz?’
‘No, and isn’t it a fortunate circumstance?’ she said brightly.
‘Yes – Oh, you’re joking me!’
‘No.’
‘Have I put you into a miff ?’ he asked incredulously. ‘Oh, well, then, I’m sorry! If you care to join us tonight I’ll give you a game, and I will let you win!’
‘Very handsome of you, Torquil, but I am going to play backgammon with your father.’ She turned her shoulder on him as she spoke, and smiled at Sir Timothy. ‘You won’t let me win either, will you, sir?’
‘Not if I can prevent you, my dear! But you are growing to be so expert that I doubt if I can hold you at bay for much longer!’ He glanced at his nephew. ‘You must know that Kate indulges me with a game of piquet, or of backgammon, every evening, Philip.’
‘Does she, sir?’ said Philip dryly. ‘How very obliging of her!’
Seven
When Torquil and Philip came back to the drawing-room after their game of billiards, Sir Timothy was just about to retire to bed, and Kate was putting the backgammon-pieces away. Sir Timothy paused, leaning on his valet’s arm, to ask how the billiards-match had gone. Torquil shrugged, and laughed. ‘Oh, he beat me, sir! I was quite off my game!’
‘Were you? But you could hardly expect to win against Philip, could you? He and I were used to play a great deal together: indeed, I taught him to play, and I was no mean player, was I, Philip?’
‘No, sir, you were very good – too good for me!’
Sir Timothy laughed gently. ‘At the start, of course I was! But we ended pretty evenly matched, I think. Kate, don’t put the backgammon away! Why don’t you have a game with Philip? She plays very well, Philip: she beat me three times tonight, let me tell you!’
‘I had some lucky throws, sir. But you won the last of our games, and I don’t care to risk my luck against Mr Broome tonight. I am going to bed too.’
‘Afraid, Cousin Kate?’ Philip said.
‘No, sir: sleepy!’ she retorted.
He accepted this with a slight bow. ‘Another night, then, I shall hope to pit my skill against yours.’
‘De buena gana!’
There was a gleam of interest in his eyes, and a furrow between his brows. He said: ‘Where did you learn to speak Spanish, cousin?’
‘My father was a military man, sir, and I passed my youth in the Peninsula,’ she answered, and turned from him to address Lady Broome, begging leave to be excused, and saying that she had a slight headache.
A gracious permission having been granted, she went away, in a mood of strange depression. Ellen’s artless prattle, while she helped her to undress, did little to lighten it. Ellen was full of Mr Philip Broome’s perfections: she thought it such a sad pity that he wasn’t Sir Timothy’s son. Everyone said so, even Mr Pennymore!
Kate dismissed the girl presently, but she did not immediately get into bed. It had occurred to her that Mr Philip Broome was at the root of her depression, and it was necessary to rid her mind of this absurd notion. There was no reason why he should like her; but similarly there was no reason why he should have taken her in dislike, which he undoubtedly had. Nor was there any reason why she should care a pin for his opinion of her. She told herself so, but she did care. Facing the abominable truth, she was forced to admit that from the first moment of setting eyes on him she had formed a decided partiality for Mr Philip Broome.
She arose on the following morning, rather heavy-eyed from the effects of a restless night, and went down to the breakfast-parlour. Mr Philip Broome was its sole occupant. She checked involuntarily on the threshold, but recovered herself in an instant, bidding him a cheerful good-morning, and advancing to take her seat opposite him. He was discussing a plate of ham, but he got up, at her entrance, and returned her greeting. ‘May I give you some coffee, cousin?’ he asked.
‘No, thank you, sir: I prefer tea,’ she replied politely.
‘There seems to be none: I’ll ring for Pennymore,’ he said. ‘Meanwhile, may I carve some ham for you?’
‘No, thank you, sir: I prefer bread-and-butter.’
His lips twitched. ‘A bread-and-butter miss? I don’t believe it!’
She said, stung into retort: ‘I’m no such thing!’
‘So I knew,’ he said, resuming his seat, adding, after a reflective moment: ‘Or so I thought, perhaps I should say.’ Without giving her time to reply, he said abruptly: ‘Why did you laugh last night, at dinner?’
She looked up quickly, her eyes suddenly full of mischief. ‘Oh– ! I’ve forgotten!’
‘No, you haven’t.’
‘Well, if you must have it, sir, I laughed because I thought, all at once, that we must resemble nothing so much as two cats trying to stare one another out!’ she answered frankly.
That made his lips twitch again. ‘Was I staring at you? I beg your pardon, but can you blame me? I was unprepared to find myself confronting such a highly finished piece of nature.’
‘I trust you will forgive me, sir, when I say that I was unprepared to receive extravagant compliments from you! I thought you were a man of sense.’
‘I am,’ he replied imperturbably.
‘Well, no one would believe it who heard you talking flowery commonplaces!’
‘Don’t you think yourself – a highly finished piece of nature?’
‘No, of course I don’t!’
‘An antidote?’ he asked, with interest.
She gave a choke of laughter. ‘No, nor that either! – Good-morning, Pennymore!’
‘Good-morning, miss,’ said Pennymore, setting a tea-pot and a dish of hot scones before her. ‘Have you any orders for Whalley?’
‘No, no, it is far too hot to ride for pleasure!
At least, it is for me.’
‘Yes, miss. Very sultry it is this morning. It wouldn’t surprise me if we was to get a storm.’
‘Oh, I hope not!’
‘Are you afraid of thunderstorms?’ asked Philip, as Pennymore left the room.
‘Yes, a little. I was once in a very bad one, in Spain, and I saw a man struck down.’ She broke off, shuddering. Summoning up a smile, she said: ‘Since when I have become shockingly hen-hearted!’
He directed a considering look at her, but said nothing, and, as Lady Broome came into the room at that moment, the subject was abandoned. She was shortly followed by Torquil, who wanted to know what were the plans for the day. On hearing that none had been made, he propounded that he, and Kate, and Philip should go on a picnic expedition to some place which, from what Kate could gather, was situated at a considerable distance from Staplewood. Lady Broome entered an instant veto, and was supported by Philip, who said that he, for one, did not mean to ride so far on what promised to be a very sultry day. ‘And, if Pennymore is to be believed – which I think he is,’ he said, turning to look over his shoulder out of the window, ‘we are going to have a thunderstorm.’
‘Oh, pooh! what of it?’ said Torquil impatiently. ‘One can always find shelter!’
‘Not in my experience!’ said his cousin.
‘No, and not in mine either!’ said Kate. ‘Besides, it’s too hot for riding! I’ve told Pennymore so already, so pray exclude me from this expedition of yours, Torquil! Another day, perhaps!’
He set his cup down with a crash into its saucer. ‘Anything I want to do!’ he said, in a trembling voice. ‘It’s always the same tale! Always!’ He jumped up from his chair, thrusting it back so violently that it fell over, and went blindly to the door.