A Stranger at Castonbury - By Amanda McCabe Page 0,34

in from the village and neighbouring houses for the dinner. There was also Lord Harry, the diplomatic son, and his wife, Elena, who declared herself so full of happiness to meet a countrywoman and said they had to sit down for a long talk as soon as possible. Not as congenial was Mrs Landes-Fraser (‘Aunt Wilhemina,’ Lily whispered with a shiver), an elderly lady ensconced by the fire and swathed in layers of silk, Indian shawls and a plumed turban, despite the warm evening.

She inspected them closely before snorting. ‘Pretty enough,’ she declared of Lydia, ‘but much too pale. Like your mother, are you, girl? She had no spirit either.’

Lily led them away from ‘Aunt Wilhemina’ as quickly as she could with an apologetic smile. ‘You must not mind her,’ she whispered. ‘She is that way with absolutely everyone. I was terrified of her when I first came to Castonbury.’

Catalina saw that Lydia regained her ‘spirit’ quickly enough when they met a certain Mr Hale, a handsome young man with a cap of bright blond hair and friendly eyes who was the new curate at the Castonbury church. He eagerly bowed over Lydia’s hand and smiled down at her as she stared up at him.

Catalina could see at one glance that this was a situation that called for a close watch.

‘Mr Hale has only been here a short time,’ Lily said. ‘But the vicar, my adoptive father Reverend Seagrove, cannot stop singing his praises. He has certainly brought a new life to the parish.’

‘You are too kind, Miss Seagrove,’ Mr Hale said with a smile. He still smiled at Lydia. ‘I am only doing my duty.’

‘I am sure you are absolutely marvellous at it, Mr Hale,’ Lydia said softly.

‘Where is the duke?’ Mrs Landes-Fraser suddenly cried. ‘It is past time for supper to be served. I don’t know why he suddenly insists on eating with us anyway. Most inconvenient after all this time. I shall need to eat soon or my digestion won’t be able to bear it.’

‘I’m sure Father will be here very soon,’ Phaedra said. ‘You know how excited he is about all that has happened. It’s like he has a new life in him.’

Mrs Landes-Fraser gave another snort and adjusted her shawls around her. ‘New life? Hmph! We were doing just fine with the way our life was before.’

Phaedra frowned and looked as if she very much wanted to argue, but the drawing room door opened before she could say anything.

Catalina glanced towards the man who had just come into the room. It had to be the duke himself, an imposing man with faded dark hair and clothes that looked a bit too large for him.

‘About time,’ Mrs Landes-Fraser muttered.

Harry stepped to his father’s side. ‘Here, Father, let me help you to your chair by the fire.’

The duke shook him away. ‘I am quite all right, my boy. Quit fussing so.’ His sharp grey eyes, half hidden under lowered brows, suddenly focused on Lydia. ‘And who is this, then? Must be Miss Westman, eh?’

Lydia gave a little squeak, and Catalina squeezed her hand to hold her still.

‘I—I am Miss Westman, Your Grace,’ Lydia said, and managed a wobbling curtsey.

‘Well, come here, girl—let me get a closer look at you,’ the duke barked.

Lydia had just taken one slow step in his direction when another man moved into the room behind him. He moved so quietly, keeping to the shadow of the door so that no one seemed to notice him. But something seemed to close around Catalina’s heart as soon as she glimpsed him and she slid closer involuntarily.

Surely—no, no, it could not. It had to be another Montague brother, or perhaps a cousin, and just being in this house had made her overly imaginative. It had already happened more than once. She had been thinking about him too much and now she thought she did see him. That was all it was.

But—but there was something about the man who stood there at the edge of the room so very still. Something watchful that reminded her of Jamie. And he looked so very much like him with that close-cropped dark hair, those strong shoulders under the finely cut coat.

‘James, come and meet Miss Westman,’ the duke called with an imperious wave of his hand.

James. As Catalina watched dizzily, the man stepped forward. He didn’t have Jamie’s graceful, panther-like movements; he limped a bit, but still that impression remained. Catalina felt icy cold, frozen to the spot as she