In Distant Fields Paperback - 2007

Chapter One

The Invitation

Partita draped a fine wool shawl around her shoulders and, seating herself nearer the log fire the housemaid had set for her, she took up her old schoolroom pen and licked the nib to free it, before carefully wiping it on her handkerchief and dipping it in the ink pot in front of her. Writing a letter was not something to which she could look forward, but write this letter she just must. She began with the date. It should have been in Roman numerals, but she was very uncertain of her Vs and Xs so she merely wrote the day, the month and 1913.

'I've been invited to Bauders Castle for Christmas!' Kitty stared at Partita's letter.

'May I see?' Her mother held out her hand for the letter.

Kitty hesitated before giving it to her. 'Imagine. Bauders Castle. Of course I can't go,' she finished quickly.

Violet shook her head. 'But you must go. It is what you should be doing.'

'I couldn't leave you alone at Christmas-time, really I couldn't.'

'I insist on it, Kitty. You must go, whatever happens.'

'No, Mamma, I could not, truly.'

Kitty turned away, went to the window of their narrow first-floor drawing room and stared out at the traffic below -- new motor cars, and horses and carriages -- everything mixed up, moving in and out of each other.

On the other side of the room, Violet stared ahead of her, all of a sudden hearing only music and laughter from what now seemed long, long ago.

'Of course you must go, Kitty darling,' she replied finally. 'I would not hear otherwise. No, no - no, my bewilderment is not at your having been invited, but at Lady Partita's atrocious handwriting, and as for her spelling . . . !'

Violet went to the window and gave the letter back to her daughter with an amused expression. 'She cannot be learning very much at Miss Woffington's Academy, if that is how she writes, dearest.'

Kitty reread Partita's misspelled missive.

'Do com, pleese,' the letter read. 'We shood all luv it, really we shood. I am shore I will dye of boardom if you do not. Pleese deer Kitty promiss you will com! Your loving friend -- Partita.'

'At least she can spell her family name now, Mamma,' Kitty murmured. 'When she first arrived at Miss Woffington's she kept writing to her father as "the Duke of Ed-on", instead of "Ed-en"! Woofie could hardly believe it.'

'What could her governess have been thinking?'

'Not her governess, her governesses, Mamma,' Kitty corrected her. 'Apparently Partita has had a succession of governesses, all of whom left after a very, very short time. That is why she ended up going to Miss Woffington's. I told you, her father does not even know she is going to a proper school. He thinks she's just having private tuition in London, and it seems no one has dared to tell him because none of the girls in the family has ever been away to school before.'

'No, no, of course not . . .' Violet murmured, her thoughts once again elsewhere.

'But as it has turned out, Partita told me, the Duchess much prefers London to the Shires, loving to keep up with the fashions. Her Thursday afternoon "At Homes" are always such a riot of people and personalities, it is really better for the Duchess if Partita does not have a governess. But have no fear, Mamma, I shall not leave you to Papa at Christmas, really I won't.'

'Oh, I think you must, Kitty, really I do. In fact, I insist that you do,' Violet replied firmly, ignoring the inferred slight to her husband. 'Such invitations are not offered lightly. Besides, it will be quite an adventure for you.'

'They say the Duchess is extraordinarily beautiful, that her figure has been so much admired and painted. Partita says she is still known as one of the most beautiful women in England, even at her age.'

'Oh, she has always been beautiful, Kitty, I assure you. I remember, when she first came to England from America, seeing her at Lady Carrington's ball, and she is every bit as beautiful as they say. She and Consuelo Vanderbilt were the beautiful catches of that year, heiresses from America being all the rage in those days. Poor souls, they little knew of just what awaited them in their ducal husbands' large draughty castles.' Violet sighed. 'American women have done so much for our interiors, of that there is no doubt, but just how much work would be required to make these old castles at all congenial does not bear thinking about. And I mean, Kitty, places like Bauders Castle are impossible, they are so medieval. Little wonder the Duchess prefers Knowle House in London, for however fine a seat Bauders Castle may be, the drains alone would give cause for worry. I believe they even have a nightwatchman still. Besides, the Duchess being a great beauty, she numbers so many, many clever, famous men among her friends, country life would not be congenial to her in the same way her London salon would be. But still, we must find a way to send you for Christmas to the castle, Kitty, really we must. I know we can.'

Violet's face was alight with enthusiasm, and for a second Kitty too looked enthused, before giving a sigh and leaning back against the wall, her gaze once more returning to the scene outside the window, which seemed suddenly to be full of people going somewhere exciting.

'There is no possibility that I can go, Mamma, when you think about it,' she said wistfully, tucking in a long strand of dark hair that had escaped from the black bow at the nape of her neck. 'Apart from anything else, I have no suitable clothes to wear, and no pennies to buy anything new.'

'If there is any way we can possibly afford for you to go to Bauders Castle, then afford it we most certainly shall.'

Kitty looked doubtfully at her mother, well aware that they were so financially straitened it was difficult for her to pay Bridie or the maid of all work. Their sad circumstances were due entirely to her father's profligacy, not to mention his reckless gambling. As she contemplated this, she found herself wondering yet again at the fact that her mother and father had remained married.

'We must see if Aunt Agatha sends us her usual gift. Let us hope she does, and in time too.'

'Could we not ask Papa for once?'

'What can you be thinking, Kitty?' Her mother smiled and Kitty sighed.

'But surely he might want me to go to stay at Bauders? Partita told me her father and my father are known to each other.'

Charlotte Bingham is a prolific writer of acclaimed bestsellers, one of which, Change of Heart, won the 1994 Romantic Novel of the Year Award.