the letters,” Caro said. “I hadn’t considered how difficult it would be for you to read them all, then send them on to me. I’m willing to work, Kate, but you have to tell me what to do. In the beginning at least.”
Her words brought Kate up short. Perhaps she had been taking care of herself for too long. “I would be grateful for the help,” she said. “Thank you.”
But she would still take some of the letters with her to the country. And perhaps she’d speak to some of the women in the nearby village as well. If they were going to truly aid women with their column, then they needed to ensure that they took the opinions of all women into consideration.
Before Caro walked away, Kate tried to reassure her friend. “We’ll set things right for Mr. Clark. Even if we must apply to the queen herself for help.”
Chapter Four
Thornfield Hall
Lewiston, the Lake District
The weak morning sun was no match against the crisp lake air as Kate trudged along the tree-lined path. She and the rest of the party from Thornfield Hall had started out early on their explorations of their host’s property.
Lord Valentine Thorn, their host, was one of her oldest friends, and that was the only reason Kate had managed to keep from using her walking stick as a cudgel against the American industrialist who was a member of the excursion.
“You’ve never seen anything like it, Lady Katherine,” he said, having moved on from boasting about the private train he’d hired for the duration of his stay in England, to extolling the grandeur of the estate he’d leased on the south coast. “It’s larger than Devonshire’s house. Bigger than the palace even. I daresay poor Thorn could fit three or four of his little lake houses inside of it.”
In Kate’s experience, men who felt the need to boast about the size of their…estates…rarely came up to snuff when it came time for the big reveal.
And Mr. John Barton certainly did a great deal of boasting. About everything.
Ever since the guests had gathered on the first night of the house party, Kate had felt like a fox on the run from a particularly slobbery hound. She’d hoped this week away from the chaos of town would give her a chance to reflect on how else she might work to see that the wrongfully arrested Mr. Clark was freed, but though she had requested Lord Valentine contact his father to request his assistance, any further contemplation had been stifled by the unwanted attentions of John Barton.
“I think it’s a lovely house, Papa,” said his daughter, Tabitha, with a not-so-veiled glance of longing at Lord Valentine, who was walking just ahead of them. Perhaps looking for an ally, she added, “Don’t you agree, Lady Katherine?”
“It’s charming.” Kate nodded. “I’ve thought so ever since Lord Valentine took possession of it. It’s perfectly situated on the lake, and the surrounding country is perfect for those times when one needs a bit of invigorating country air.”
Barton harrumphed but didn’t object, though his expression was not unlike that of a cross child who’d been contradicted.
“I suppose someone like Lord Valentine has reason to retreat to the country now and then,” Tabitha continued, ignoring her father’s mood. “He must live such an exciting life.”
“You can just stop with that nonsense this minute, my girl,” Barton said baldly. “We came here to land a lord for you, but not a younger son. I’ve indulged you enough to come up here away from London, where most of my business is, but if this is how you mean to go on, we will make our excuses and go back to town.”
On the one hand, Kate supposed she appreciated the way the American just came right out and admitted that their purpose for being in England was to, essentially, purchase a titled husband for Tabitha. Certainly any number of matchmaking mamas made their way to town each season with a similar aim—though they generally were looking for wealth to go along with the title.
On the other hand, she was, after all, a lady and had been raised from practically the cradle to find any sort of plain speaking distasteful. If one was chilled, one didn’t say so; one just rubbed her arms. If one was angry, one sniffed.
Caro had made her more comfortable about saying out loud the things that were normally whispered, if mentioned at all. But it was still rather a novelty for Kate.
And even so,