A Stranger at Castonbury(62)

Catalina smiled at him. ‘I am sure they did not want the weight of those expectations any more than you did.’

Jamie laughed. ‘No, indeed. Giles says he never had a happier day than when he learned I was returning and he would not have to be the duke. He and Lily can make their own life for themselves.’

Catalina wondered what that would be like, to make her own choices. She had tried it when she left Seville to nurse, and it had just led her here. ‘My brother was also a man with all his family’s hopes pinned on him. My mother wept for days when he ran away to work with the liberal factions against the king.’

‘He was doing what he believed in, just as you did when you came to help our armies,’ Jamie said. ‘You were both very brave, credits to your family name.’

‘Were we? My parents would never have thought so,’ Catalina said quietly. ‘My brother saw his hopes for Spain crushed, and I was selfish when I left my home in Seville. But I have no regrets, and neither would my brother. Our souls would have withered if we had stayed.’ She laid her gloved hand gently over Jamie’s where he held the reins. ‘You have another chance here with your family, a chance to rebuild Castonbury as you think it should be. I could never have done that with my home. I could never have really belonged there.’

Jamie turned his hand to wrap his fingers around hers. ‘Do you not think you could ever make Castonbury your home as well?’

‘Castonbury?’ Catalina cried, shocked. ‘How could it be?’

‘Do you not like it?’

‘I...’ She turned her head to look out at those distant chimneys again. She could like Castonbury, probably far too much. She also cared for Jamie far too much to be one of those chains he spoke of. ‘I don’t see how anyone could not like it. It’s such a beautiful house.’

He shot her a crooked, rueful smile. ‘Then it’s merely the house’s heir you don’t like.’

‘Oh, Jamie,’ Catalina said with a laugh. ‘I think you know that dislike is the furthest thing I feel for you.’

‘Yet you will not do the sensible thing and be my wife again.’

Did he want her as his wife? It sounded suspiciously to her as if he wanted the matchmakers off his back, and being married to her would be a convenient way to do that. But eventually he would be sorry for that. ‘It would not be so very sensible to put your family to yet another shock, so soon after you returned from the dead. I don’t want to be another chain for you, Jamie.’

Jamie shook his head. ‘I am not that wild boy any longer, Catalina. I learned my lesson very well in Spain. This is my place—this is my task in life.’ He shot her a burning glance. ‘I don’t want to do it alone.’

‘All the better to think this over very carefully,’ Catalina said calmly, even as her heart ached. She wanted so much to be the one to help him, to stand with him. She truly still loved him, even more than she had in Spain. But she wanted him to love her too, not see her as a ‘sensible’ solution to his problem, one he would later regret.

The carriage rolled into town, and Catalina opened her parasol to shield her face from the sun and the glances of any passers-by. The streets were not crowded at that time of day, and they were soon drawing up at Alicia’s house on its quiet street.

Jamie climbed down from the high seat and came around to help Catalina, his hand lingering on hers. She waited as he tied up the horse, surreptitiously studying the empty pavement from under her parasol.

‘Do you think Webster could be watching us now?’ she whispered.

‘I hope so, the bastard,’ Jamie said firmly. ‘Alicia wrote to him that she was working on a new scheme concerning me and begged him to call on her and offer his assistance. She has not yet had a reply. He is probably hiding and watching, like the coward he is. Skulking around parties and assemblies.’

Catalina glanced up at the house, so serene behind its brick walls and shuttered windows. She hated the thought of a man like Webster watching it, plotting harm to the people inside. Even if it was Alicia Walters.

‘What of her child?’ Catalina asked as Jamie led her up the front steps and knocked at the door. ‘Is he safe here?’

‘I believe she has taken to leaving him with the neighbour, a kindly widow, at times,’ he said. ‘And I have been keeping watch.’

The door swung open and Alicia stood there. She looked older than Catalina remembered from Spain, her blue eyes red-rimmed and strained. Yet she still wore quiet, respectable clothes, her hair pinned back in a simple knot. Her eyes widened when she saw Catalina and she gave a quick curtsey.