As her carriage pulled up outside, Lady Catherine took a good look at Major Thomas Gilfoyle’s house. She knew the house, of course, it has stood here in Newtownforbes for years, but Major Gilfoyle and his family had only taken possession of it a month ago.
She had given them time to get settled before she called. She did not want to cause distress by arriving in before they were ready to receive her, but this latest outrage had changed her mind.
The serving maid who opened the door to her took a step backward when she opened the door. Catherine tactfully pretended not to notice and said, “Tell your master that Lady Catherine Forbes is here to see him.”
The maid knew who she was, and bolted, leaving Catherine standing in the hall, still holding her umbrella. Rather than wait for the maid to return, Catherine followed her.
Just as well. She arrived in time to see the badly-trained servant fling open a door and pant, “She’s here, sir.”
Really. It was just as well she had not waited for that harum-scarum girl to attend to her. She might have been waiting for ages.
“Kindly do not refer to me as She,” Catherine told the maid as she swept past her. “I trust your mother has taught you better than that.” She couldn’t remember the name of the girl, but she had the unmistakable stamp of one of the Martins. Agnes Martin might not be the best housekeeper in the world, but she had manners.
“I’m Lady Catherine Forbes,” she told the man sitting behind the desk in the study.
She took a moment to study him before she mentioned the business which had brought her here today. He was not what she had been expecting.
For some reason, she had assumed that a widower with three children and a distinguished military career would be older. Major Thomas Gilfoyle, while certainly mature, still had an air of vigour about him. His dark hair had only a few traces of grey and his eyes, while holding knowledge and experience, still had a glint which told a woman to tread carefully.
He stood up at her entrance and moved to greet her, allowing her a good view of a tall stature with wide shoulders and long muscular legs. He moved a little stiffly, as if from an old injury. Indeed, if half the tales of his exploits during the war were true, he was lucky to be still alive.
Catherine finally remembered the maid’s name. “Nellie, why don’t you go to the kitchen and fetch us some tea and scones?” It would be better if the main were not here while she spoke to the Major.
“Pray make yourself at home, ma’am,” the Major said. His voice was quicker than she had expected from a military man, but it had the unmistakable air of command.
She ignored the subtle irony and stretched out her hand to him. “Lady Catherine Forbes. I’ve come to speak to you.”
He bowed over her hand. “Yes, I know who you are.” He didn’t mention anything about being delighted to meet her, but she let that go. Military men were not known for their couth.
Nellie dashed out of the room without waiting for her master’s command. Catherine raised an eyebrow at the lack of decorum. Clearly Major Gilfoyle was not a harsh taskmaster.
He gestured her to a seat.
The study was quite Spartan and Catherine perched on the edge of a hard wooden chair, stacking her hands on top of her umbrella. She still wore her hat, as no one had offered to relieve her of it.
Clearly, he didn’t believe in making his guests comfortable.
“What can I do for you, my lady,” Major Gilfoyle asked.
She took a breath. In spite of her reputation for straight speaking, she did not relish being the bearer of bad news. “I’ve come about your children, Mr Gilfoyle.”
“It’s Major,” he said. “I still hold my command.”
She nodded. “Major.”
“What about my children?” There was a slightly defensive tone in his voice which told her that her visit was not a complete surprise to him.
She tightened her grip on the umbrella. “They are running wild. Your two boys have been constantly plaguing my gamekeepers, and have been disturbing the pheasants. I strongly suspect that one or both of them was riding my prize bull, which is not only ruinous to his mating abilities, but quite dangerous for the boys.”
The Major remained standing while she spoke, and she was aware that she had to look up a long way to meet his eyes. “Those sound like childish pranks to me, my lady.”
“They are dangerous tricks, which could have cost them their lives, not to mention how they have disturbed my workers.”
“I shall speak to them.”
“And then there is your daughter.”
He straightened still more. “What has Henrietta being doing? Prey don’t tell me she had been playing with your bull.”
“She has been playing with a bull of a more dangerous nature. Has it escaped your notice that she has been flirting with all the men on the estate? While I would like to believe natural innocence is its own protection, sooner or later her luck will run out.”
Catherine was aware that the Major’s gaze had hardened. “Are you accusing my daughter of immoral behaviour? Are you aware that she is only 15?”
She met his gaze evenly. “No, but that does not surprise me. What does is that she is apparently allowed to run as wild as her brothers. Sir, I appreciate that you are a widower and lack the attention that a loving mother would give your children, but you still have a duty to supervise them and keep them safe.”
He looked as if she had slapped him. “Are you telling me that I am not taking sufficient care of my children?”
“On the evidence, yes, I’m afraid so.”
She allowed the silence to drag on for a moment, while he collected himself, before she spoke again. “To the best of my knowledge, there is no woman in this house to take care of them. As a short term measure, you need a governess or some such woman who will act as a duena or teacher for them. In the long term, I think you should consider remarrying.”
“What?”
He did not look as receptive as she had hoped, but she ploughed on. “Yes. You need a good wife, not only to put this house in order.” She gave a pointed glance around her, taking in the wooden seats, the threadbare curtains and the ragged rug on the oak floorboards. “But to take care of your children. And I’m sure that as a gentleman, you have certain natural needs that a wife would be able to provide for.”
“Are you telling me to get married?”
She smiled, relieved to find he was so quick on the uptake. “Yes, precisely.”
“You are of course aware that I am not engaged?” His voice was very even.
“That’s no problem. I can recommend any number of good god-fearing widows who would be glad to have you. You are a handsome man, even if you have an injury and three wild children.”
The Major moved so suddenly she was taken aback. He marched to the door and yanked it open. “Madam, I hope you are not planning to organise my wedding night with the same bossiness that you have shown thus far.”
The rattle of crockery in the hallway signalled the return of Nellie with the tea. “You can take that back to the kitchen, Nellie. Lady Catherine will not be staying for tea.”
Well really. “Pray bear in mind what I suggested. The situation is not going to improve without your intervention.” She bowed stiffly to him, and swept out, suddenly grateful she was still wearing her hat.
Outside, her carriage waited. Before she climbed in, she turned to stare behind her? Had he actually turned her out of his house, without so much as a cup of tea? He was the rudest man she had ever met, and she hoped she would have nothing to do with him in future.
