Guy is sitting staring into the fire when Katherine walks past the door of her 'nice room'.
She hates to see him lost in reverie like this, for she suspects it means that he is dwelling on the past.She would rather see him outside in the fresh air, and being too busy to brood over his ills. She knows that it must be torture for such an active, physical man as Guy to sit and be idle.
So, mastering her reticence about talking to him because, in truth, they have scarcely exchanged a word during the last week, she enters the room.
‘Robert and Stephen are busy fencing off some new land I have recently acquired,’ she says. ‘I was wondering if you would be able to help them? They would welcome another pair of …’
Her voice peters out; she realises with horror what she was about to say.
Guy casts a venomous glance at her. ‘Hands?’ he says, caustically, his eyes hard and dark.
‘Oh Guy,’ she begins, ‘I am sorry, I did not mean to–‘
He rises abruptly. ‘Perhaps I could hold the posts with my teeth? Or use my head to knock them into the ground? Which do you think would be best Katherine?’
He expects her to fuss around him, apologising, but instead she stumbles over to a chair, sits down heavily and begins to weep. Her head is down but the sound is unmistakable and soon her shoulders start to shake and her sobs grow louder.
Guy looks on appalled. Seeing her weep reminds him so clearly of the day he visited her in her room in Nottingham, the day before she was due to be married to Gifford.
Words begin to spill out between her ragged sobs, ‘I know you regret what you did in Nottingham for me. I know it. I am sorry, so sorry to have brought you all this ill fortune. I should have agreed to marry Gifford … I should have done it at once and then Foster would be alive and you would be as you were. It is entirely my fault ... And now you cannot bear the sight of me and nothing I say is right …’
Guy sits there looking distinctly uncomfortable and then does what any red blooded Englishman would do when faced with such a display of raw feminine emotion: he rises intending to leave the room. Before he can reach the door though, Katherine has passed him, one hand over her mouth, head down. He watches her run up the stairs and hears the door of her chamber slam shut.
Katherine does not reappear that day. Martha takes her food to her in her room and reports that her mistress feels ‘out of sorts.’ Martha shakes her head and wonders what is going on between Guy and Katherine. She had thought that as Guy’s health and temper improved there would have been reconciliation, but there is no sign of it. She is disappointed – a romantic at heart, she is determined that their story shall have a happy ending. She cannot, however, fathom why Katherine is not throwing herself at Guy and why he, for his part, is not catching her.
That evening, Robert, Stephen and Guy enter the kitchen and sit whilst Martha serves the stew.
‘Extra portion for Guy,’ says Robert laughing, ‘he’s been working hard today, haven’t you son?’
And with that he slaps Guy on the back.
A couple of years ago such familiarity, such chumminess towards Guy would have earned Robert a flogging. Now Guy simply grimaces and turns his attention to his food.
*****
Katherine comes downstairs the next morning to find Alice leaping from one foot to the other and smiling from ear to ear.
‘Why are you so excited Alice?’ Katherine asks, amused.
‘You’ll see, you’ll see,’ is all Alice will say in response. Martha too has a mysterious smile on her face but cannot be prevailed upon to speak.
Katherine cuts some bread from a loaf and spreads it with butter, then she walks from the kitchen, intending to sit in the parlour and write some letters, but the main door is open and the spring sunshine is spilling in, so she walks out into the fresh air, nibbling at the bread as she does so.
She laughs to herself, ‘Not a very ladylike way to act Katherine,’ but she carries on eating and enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. She decides she will go and sit on the bench by the wall and finish the bread. But as she nears it she sees that the bench is already occupied.
Katherine stops still and a little ‘oh’ escapes her lips.
For sitting there is Guy. Guy without a beard. Guy looking as handsome as she remembered him. How many times had she thought of that face in the months when she was convinced he had died? She could draw it from memory.
He watches her reaction and a little wave of excitement and nervousness runs through him.
Neither of them speaks and Katherine is aware that she is staring at him, taking in the beautiful lines and planes of his face. She lets her eyes drop to the linen shirt he is wearing. She notices how tight it is across his chest now that he has filled out and how muscular his forearms look where the shirtsleeves are rolled back.
‘Um,’ she half says and half coughs and then adds, unnecessarily, ‘You have shaved off your beard.’
He smiles and nods. ‘Robert helped me.’ He pauses, ‘I did it to please Alice,’ he says pointedly.
He notices a slow blush spread across her face and that wave of excitement builds higher.
Katherine knows that she should say something, but she is mesmerised by the sight of him, realising that the sheer masculine power she has always associated with him, has returned. It makes her feel slightly giddy, for she can not stop her mind from straying to thinking about what that power could do to her.
Guy sees her lick her lips nervously. Now he cannot tear his eyes from her mouth.
He wants to fall upon her and tear the dress from her shoulders. He has to get away from her or he will do something stupid and then have to suffer the humiliation of seeing her push him away. Even worse would be to watch as a look of revulsion comes into her eyes.
He rises abruptly and for one delirious moment Katherine thinks that he is going to kiss her. Instead he starts to walk away.
Katherine’s heart sinks and she admonishes herself for not saying something better, something that could bridge this huge gap between them. She is just casting around for something when Guy stops and turns around.
‘I would do it again,’ he says.
She looks at him quizzically.
‘You said that you knew I regretted what I did for you in Nottingham.’ He lifts his eyes to hers and shakes his head, ‘Well, I don’t. I would do the same again.’
Then he turns back around and walks away.
Katherine is not really aware of what happens next, but she finds herself sitting on the vacated bench, the last of the piece of bread still clutched in her hand. Her mind is in turmoil. Should she go to him now and tell him how she feels? Would he still tear himself away? She cannot decide how he would react, but there is no escaping what he has said, what he had done. She catches her breath and for a few minutes loses herself in the thought of taking his face in both her hands and kissing it and then slowly peeling off that shirt.
And if Vasey hadn’t chosen exactly that moment to come along and steal the bread from her hand, she would probably have remained there all morning lost in the sweet fantasy of just what exactly she was going to do to Guy after she had removed his shirt.
