As befitted Sir John's position and achievements, the finest people in Lincolnshire attended his funeral and everyone on the estate ceased their business for the day in order to pay their respects.
Guy sat in the cold church and looked at the back of Katherine's head. He saw her shoulders tremble a little. Was she weeping? The thought of that made him want to go to her and wrap his arms around her and taste the salt of her tears. Instead he looked at Grace. She was sobbing uncontrollably, draped across her husband. Geoffrey Gifford was holding her as though she was something objectionable that he had found at the bottom of a pond.
After the burial the guests were entertained in the Manor House and Katherine worked tirelessly. She moved amongst the guests and the workers who were assembled in the kitchens, ensuring that everybody had adequate refreshment. Then she was to be found discussing with Sir John's oldest friends the form his memorial should take; she made polite conversation with those she barely knew; she was, in fact, the perfect hostess.
Katherine was thinking that William should have been present to oversee all of these arrangements and wondered how long it would take for her letter bearing the sad news to reach him.
Guy moved amongst the people taking stock of their relative importance, sizing up the richness of their attire. But whilst his eyes were on them, his senses were alive to where Katherine was at every moment of the day. He could hear the rustle of her dress as she walked behind him; almost swear he could feel the air she displaced as she passed. And her fragrance ... he took a deep breath and that familiar feeling of lust welled up in him.
He watched her leave the room, and following her, saw her approach Gifford and Grace. Gifford had been shaking Grace in an attempt to stop her sobbing. His actions had the opposite effect.
‘Grace, come, sit down, ‘said Katherine.
‘Yes, listen to Katherine, she talks such great sense.’ Gifford made a lunge at Katherine and got his arm around her waist. She felt herself pulled into his side and his hand exert pressure on her hip.
The noise of Grace's weeping intensified.
Katherine could smell the drink on Gifford's breath just inches from her face. She tried to push herself away, but he was holding her tight.
‘Is there anything I can do to help you Lady Katherine?’ a familiar voice said behind her.
Katherine did not need to turn her head to see who was speaking.
Gifford let go of her waist and Katherine smoothed down the front of her dress. Gifford glowered at Guy.
‘I did not know you would be here,’ he said. ‘I was just comforting Lady Katherine.’
Guy raised an eyebrow, ‘I think you should comfort your wife instead.’
Both men looked at each other with dislike, and then Katherine broke the silence.
‘I did not know that you two knew were acquainted,’ she said simply, but her voice was uncharacteristically hesitant and when Guy looked at her he could see she was scared.
He said nothing but Gifford blurted out, ‘Our paths have crossed from time to time, that is all. Nothing more.’
Katherine looked from Guy to Gifford and then, without a word, turned around and walked away. Gifford returned his attention to Grace. Guy, however, watched Katherine walk down the corridor and saw her reach out a hand to steady herself before turning back into the main hall to attend to her guests.
He followed her back into the hall and continued to watch her as she resumed her duties as lady of the Manor. Part of him wanted to tell her he was not like Gifford, and then the awful thought struck him that perhaps he was, in fact, becoming a man just like Gifford.
As she moved through the rooms, Katherine could feel Guy's eyes upon her and fought hard not to look at him, turning her back to block him out, seeking guests who were furthest away from him. But every time she looked up she met the gaze of those hungry eyes.
Unable at one point to bear it any longer, she slipped from the room and went out into the yard, taking great gulps of cool air in order to calm herself. A few pieces of blossom were drifting in the air. They are all in this together, she thought, me against them. Why else would Vasey bother with Gifford, why else would Gifford know Gisborne?
She closed her eyes and took another deep breath and then turned to go back inside to resume her duties. Guy was standing in her way. He smiled at her and gently reached out to remove a piece of blossom from her hair. He held it between his fingers and then let it drop to the ground.
‘Not snow this time,’ he said, simply.
'No,’ was all she said in reply and then she walked past him back into the house.
