Roses and Champagne

‘Don’t hide behind your sister,’ advised Lucius pleasantly. ‘You’re quite able to stand up for yourself.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Katrina, if we’re going out to dinner we must go now—I’ve booked the table for half past seven.’

Katrina stared at him. He was smiling a little, but the look he gave her was sufficient for her to say hastily: ‘I’m ready—I must just get my bag, and I suppose I’d better bring a coat.’

She saw Virginia’s puzzled look as she went past her and up to her room. It was a pity that Lucius had come when he had, because they had merely postponed the unpleasant half hour she and Virginia were going to have. And where in heaven’s name were they going? She flung a few things into a clutch bag, got a coat from the cupboard and went downstairs again.

Lucius was standing exactly where she had left him, Virginia sitting on the arm of a chair. Katrina heard her voice very clearly as she went across the hall. ‘And don’t think I’m coming to your stuffy dinner party for the Hunt Ball! James is taking me out first, and we’ll come on to the ball later.’

‘Afraid to face them?’ asked Lucius softly, and went to meet Katrina, who paused in the doorway to say: ‘I told Mrs Beecham dinner at half past seven, I shan’t be late back.’

She didn’t wait to hear Virginia’s muttered reply, but went out to where the Jaguar was parked and got in beside Lucius. As he drove off she said: ‘Now you can explain, Lucius.’

‘I thought we might have a meal at La Sorbonne—we haven’t been there for quite a time. Virginia didn’t care for Oxford, we nearly always went up to town or to Bath.’

Katrina said, ‘Oh,’ and searched for a suitable reply, but she couldn’t think of one, so instead she said: ‘Why?’

They were on the main road, the Jaguar making light of the twenty odd miles they had to drive. ‘I thought it might be nice to give that new suit an airing.’

‘You didn’t know that Virginia was coming home this evening?’ she persisted.

‘My dear girl, how suspicious you are! How should I know that, and how could I have booked a table on the spur of the moment without you knowing?’

Which made sense. She wasn’t going to know that he had seen the lights of Virginia’s car going up the lane, shouted to Cobb to phone La Sorbonne and followed her as quickly as he could, Virginia had a nasty temper and Katrina was no match for her, even in the new outfit.

They didn’t talk much, but since over the years they had attained an easy relationship which didn’t need constant conversation to keep it alive, Katrina accepted Lucius’s silence and sat quietly, lulled into a peaceful state where she didn’t even bother to think. They reached Oxford presently and Lucius turned off the High Street, parked the car and walked her down the little alley close by. The restaurant was on the first floor of a seventeenth-century house and was noted for its excellent food. Katrina wrinkled her small nose at the scent of the flowers on the table and said: ‘This is nice!’

Lucius smiled at her. ‘Good. That brown thing is very becoming, Katie.’ His glance was as careless as a brother’s. ‘What would you like to drink?’

They dined at leisure; wild duck, cooked as only it could be cooked at La Sorbonne, preceded by globe artichokes and followed by a lemon sorbet. They sat over their coffee, talking like the old friends they were, but not mentioning Virginia. It wasn’t until they were back again and Katrina was saying goodbye that Lucius asked: ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in for a drink?’

Katrina said forthrightly: ‘Heavens, whatever for? Though if you really want one, I could make coffee or tea…’

‘Tea would be nice,’ said Lucius so meekly that she looked at him suspiciously, but since she couldn’t see him very clearly she said reluctantly: ‘All right, come in then.’

Lucius smiled a little and followed her into the quiet house, across the hall and through the baize door to the kitchen. It was comfortably warm, the Aga glowing gently and Cromwell, Mrs Beecham’s cat, curled up before it. Lucius filled a kettle and set it to boil while Katrina fetched two mugs and found the milk and sugar, then sat down at the big scrubbed table. The tea was strong and hot. ‘We shan’t sleep a wink,’ declared Katrina, and poured second cups.

They had almost finished when the door opened and Virginia came in, a vision in pink velvet and chiffon frills. ‘I heard the car,’ she observed, ‘and the racket Lucius made crossing the hall. I think it’s very selfish of you to make so much noise—I need my sleep.’

Katrina was on the point of saying she was sorry, but Lucius forestalled her. ‘Did you come all the way down here to tell us that?’ he asked. ‘I very much doubt it.’

Virginia shot him a cross look. ‘How did you guess? As a matter of fact, I forgot to tell you something when I came home this evening.’

‘Let me guess,’ said Lucius smoothly. ‘You’re engaged—James Lovell, of course, I can’t think of anyone else who would have you.’

‘You knew—how did you find out?’ Virginia was so furiously angry that she began to cry, and Katrina started forward to comfort her, to be firmly checked by Lucius.

‘I didn’t know, but there is such a thing as logical reasoning. Are you going to wait for a decent interval before you announce it? I mean, it’s only days since I—er—threw you over, and you must give people time to recover from that you know.’

‘If James were here, he’d knock you down,’ sobbed Virginia.

‘I very much doubt that, but he’s welcome to try next time we meet. Now go to bed, you silly girl.’

‘Virginia…’ began Katrina.

‘Oh, shut up!’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘It’ll serve you right if you stay a starchy spinster for the rest of your days!’ She rounded on Lucius. ‘And as for you…’

‘Burning oil or slow poison—Goodnight, Virginia, and congratulations.’

When she had gone Katrina said slowly: ‘You needn’t have been so unkind.’ She added: ‘All the same, I’m glad you were here.’

Lucius collected the mugs and put them tidily in the sink. All he said was: ‘May I come to lunch tomorrow?’ And when she said ‘Yes’ in a surprised voice: ‘I fancy Virginia will have more to say by then, and Katie, don’t, I beg of you, get embroiled in an argument with her until I get here.’

‘That’s all very well! She’s my sister, I’ve always taken care of her…’

‘Just so. I wonder when you’ll realise that you’re the one who needs taking care of?’

He crossed the space between them and threw an arm round her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry about it, and there’s one thing I can promise you; you’re not a starchy spinster and never will be.’ He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Go to bed.’

‘You were joking, weren’t you?’ she asked in a small voice.

He understood her at once. ‘No. We’ll announce our engagement at the Hunt Ball…no, better still, at Virginia’s wedding. If I know her, she’ll make James get a special licence and expect a slap-up wedding in about ten days’ time.’

He took her arm and went into the hall. ‘Lock up after me,’ he warned her, and went out of the door to the car.

Katrina shut the bolts and turned the key, her head a muddle of weddings, engagements and Lucius’s arrogance in taking it for granted that she wanted to marry him. She tumbled into bed presently, all these problems swept away by the enormous one of how to arrange a big wedding in a matter of days. Ten days, Lucius had said, and from experience she knew that he was almost always right.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN KATRINA went down to breakfast the next morning, Lovelace met her in the hall with the information that Miss Virginia was having her breakfast in bed as she had had a bad night so Katrina shared hers with the ever faithful Bouncer, then went back upstairs and tapped on her sister’s door.

Virginia was sitting up in bed, her breakfast tray beside her, reading a magazine. She looked up as Katrina went in, then bent her head over its glossy pages again.

Katrina took the magazine from her and sat down on the edge of the bed. She asked: ‘When were you planning to get married, Virginia?’

‘Soon—before Christmas, though I can’t see what business it is of yours.’ She snatched the magazine back, looking sulky.

‘Well, I supposed you’d want a pretty wedding, and that will take some organising. Invitations and bridesmaids and so on…’

‘Don’t you mind if I get married and you don’t?’

‘Well, no, I don’t think so—why should I? I don’t want to marry James.’ Katrina paused. ‘You’re sure, Virginia?—it’s only a few days ago since you thought you wanted to marry Lucius.’

She didn’t give her sister time to answer. Virginia’s hands had curled round the magazine, her eyes blazing, and Katrina remembered that Lucius had told her to wait until he was there, and she suddenly wished he was. She got up and went out of the room, and the magazine thudded on the door as she was closing it behind her.

She’d been a fool to try and talk to Virginia. She was shaking a little as she went downstairs and set about her normal chores, first to Mrs Beecham to let her know that Lucius would be there for lunch, then out into the garden with Bouncer to find old John and coax him to let her have some of the Doyenne du Comice pears he had been picking with such care. They were a crop that he tended with pleasure and pride and each autumn he tended to hand them out in a miserly fashion. But this morning he was in a generous mood, and when Katrina explained that Mr Massey was coming to lunch and might enjoy one, he presented her with a small basket of the fruit.

‘That old Pritchard down at Stockley House, ‘e don’t know a good pear when he sees ‘un, though ‘e’s got a good eye for a grape.’

Katrina perched on a pile of wooden boxes, took an apple from one of the trays and prepared for half an hour’s conversation with the old man. It was only the appearance of the gardener’s boy with a jug of tea for old John that sent her on her way, this time to the stables.