Love Can Wait. Бетти Нилс

of the blue dress, thought Kate waspishly.

      Dinner went off very well, and an hour later Kate helped clear the table after taking coffee into the drawing room. Then she went to the kitchen, where the three of them sat down at the kitchen table and polished off the rest of the duck.

      ‘You’re tired out; been on your feet all day,’ said Mrs Pickett. ‘Just you nip outside for a breath of air, Kate. Me and Sally’ll fill the dishwasher and tidy up a bit. Go on, now.’

      ‘You don’t mind? Ten minutes, then. You’ve both been such a help—I could never have managed…’

      It was lovely out in the garden, still light enough to see around her, and warm from the day’s sunshine. Kate wandered round the side of the house and onto the sweep in front of it, and paused to look at the cars parked there: an elderly Daimler—that would be the doctor’s—Major Keane’s Rover, a rakish sports car—the nephew’s no doubt—and, a little apart, the Bentley.

      She went nearer and peered in, and met the eyes of the dog sitting behind the wheel. The window was a little open and he lifted his head and breathed gently over her.

      ‘You poor dear, shut up all by yourself while everyone is inside guzzling themselves ill. I hope your master takes good care of you.’

      Mr Tait-Bouverie, coming soft-footed across the grass, stopped to listen.

      ‘He does his best,’ he observed mildly. ‘He is about to take his dog for a short stroll before returning home.’ He looked at Kate’s face, pale in the deepening twilight. ‘And I promise you, I didn’t guzzle. The dinner was superb.’

      He opened the door and Prince got out and offered his head for a scratch.

      ‘Thank you,’ said Kate haughtily. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’

      ‘A most pleasant evening,’ said Mr Tait-Bouverie.

      Kate heaved a deep breath. ‘Probably it was, for you. But this was supposedly my half-day off, and on Sunday, when I should have a full day, I am not to have it because Miss Travers is staying on.’ Her voice shook very slightly. ‘We—I and my mother—were going to spend the day at Thame, looking at the shops. And my feet ache!’

      She turned on her heel and walked away, back to the kitchen, leaving Mr Tait-Bouverie looking thoughtful.

      CHAPTER TWO

      MR TAIT-BOUVERIE strolled around the garden while Prince blundered around seeking rabbits, his amusement at Kate’s outburst slowly giving way to concern. She had sounded upset—indeed, he suspected that most girls would have given way to floods of tears. Knowing his aunt, he had no doubt that Kate was shown little consideration at the best of times and none at all when Lady Cowder’s wishes were likely to be frustrated. He had been touched by her idea of a day’s outing to Thame to look at the shops. The ladies of his acquaintance didn’t look at shop windows, they went inside and bought whatever they wanted.

      He frowned as he remembered that she had said her feet ached…

      Back in the house, Claudia fluttered across the room to him. ‘Where have you been?’ she wanted to know, and gave him a wide smile. ‘Are you bored?’ She pouted prettily. ‘Everyone here, except for Roland, is a bit elderly. ‘I’d love to walk in the garden…’

      He had beautiful manners and she had no idea how tiresome he found her.

      ‘I’m afraid I must leave, I’m already late for an appointment.’

      Claudia looked put out. ‘You’ve got a girlfriend…?’

      He answered her in a bland voice which gave no hint of his irritation. ‘No, nothing as romantic, I’m afraid. A patient to check at the hospital.’

      ‘At this time of night? It will be twelve o’clock before you get back to town.’

      ‘Oh, yes. But, you see, people who are ill don’t observe conventional hours of sleep.’ He smiled down at her pretty, discontented face. ‘I must say goodbye to my aunt…’

      Lady Cowder drew him a little apart. ‘You enjoyed your evening?’ she wanted to know. ‘Isn’t Claudia charming? Such a dear girl and so pretty, is she not?’

      ‘Oh, indeed. A delightful evening, Aunt. The dinner was superb. You have a treasure in your housekeeper, if she did indeed cook it. A big task for her, I should imagine—but doubtless she has ample help.’

      ‘Oh, Kate can do the work of two,’ said Lady Cowder airily. ‘Of course, I allowed her to have a daily woman to help, and a young girl—she waited at table. Some kind of a niece, I believe. The best we could do at such short notice.’

      ‘You plan more entertainments while Claudia is here?’

      ‘Oh, yes—tennis tomorrow, with tea in the garden and perhaps a buffet supper. And on Friday there will be people coming for drinks, and I dare say several of them will stay on and take pot luck. Claudia thinks she may stay until early next week. I must think up something special for Sunday. A barbecue, perhaps. Kate could manage that easily.’

      She would manage, thought Mr Tait-Bouverie, but her feet would be aching fit to kill her by then, and her longed-for day off would be out of the question.

      ‘If Claudia is staying until Monday or Tuesday, why don’t you bring her up to town on Friday evening? I’m free for the weekend. We might go to a play on Friday evening, and perhaps go somewhere to dine on Saturday. And she might enjoy a drive down to Henley on Sunday?’

      ‘My dear, James, what a delightful idea. We shall both adore to come. I can leave Kate to look after the house—such a good chance for her to do a little extra work…’

      ‘Oh, you’re far too generous for that,’ said Mr Tait-Bouverie suavely. ‘Let the girl go home for a couple of days; your gardener could keep an eye on the house. I’m sure you will want to reward Kate for such a splendid dinner. Besides, why keep the house open when you can lock up and save on your gas and electricity bills?’

      Lady Cowder, who was mean with her money, said thoughtfully, ‘You know, James, that is a good idea. You have no idea how much this place costs to run and, of course, if I’m not here to keep an eye on Kate she might give way to extravagance.’

      ‘I’ll expect you around six o’clock,’ said Mr Tait-Bouverie. ‘And, if by chance I’m held up, Mudd will take care of you both. You’ll come in Claudia’s car?’

      ‘Yes. She’s a splendid driver. She does everything so well. She will make a splendid wife.’

      If she expected an answer to this she was to be disappointed. Her nephew remarked pleasantly that he must leave without delay and embarked on his farewells, saying all the right things and leaving the house by a side door.

      He was letting Prince out of the car for a few moments when he heard voices, and saw Mrs Pickett and her niece leaving the house from the kitchen door. They wished him goodnight as they reached him, and then paused as he asked, ‘You’re going to the village? I’m just leaving, I’ll give you a lift.’

      ‘Well, now, that would be a treat for we’re that tired, sir.’

      ‘I imagine so.’ He opened the car door and they got in carefully.

      ‘You will have to tell me where you live, Mrs Pickett.’ He started the car and said over his shoulder, ‘What a splendid dinner party. You must have worked very hard.’

      ‘That we did—and that poor Kate, so tired she couldn’t eat her supper. Had a busy time of it, with all the shopping and the house to see to as well as concocting all them fancy dishes. Now I hears it’s to be a tennis party tomorrow—that means she’ll have to be up early, making cakes. Missed her half-day off, too, though she didn’t say a word about it.’

      Mrs Pickett, a gossip by nature, was in full flood. ‘It’s not as though she’s used to service. She’s a lady, born and bred, but