The Made Marriage (8 page)

A deep silence lay over the house and fields and Kate stood for a moment looking out into the deserted yard unseeingly. The expedition to Limerick, instead of cheering her up, seemed merely to have left her with a hollow feeling of disappointment. Doretta, she realised, had not been slow in turning her interest to Owen. Already an expedition to Blarney was under discussion and she had the grim feeling that Doretta’s demonstration of risotto-making would be strictly designed to exhibit her attractions.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘WELL, that’s settled,’ Owen announced with satisfaction, laying down the letter he had been perusing with frowning concentration. ‘Aunt Florrie’s coming. In fact, she seemed glad of an excuse to pay a visit to Laragh. She says
s
he’s looking forward to meeting you,’ he added with an air of faint surprise, ‘says you sound like the kind of person who would be after her own heart.’

Kate, who had been busily stacking the breakfast dishes on the japanned tray, regarded her employer morosely. The morning sun flooded through the window of the small breakfast-room, and Owen, having consumed his invariable morning meal of two brown eggs and unlimited buttered toast and tea, was on the point of rising from the table and setting out for the fields.

Kate sniffed. ‘I’m sure it’s taken a weight off your mind that at last a chaperon is arriving.’

She felt no great enthusiasm at the prospect of Aunt Florrie’s visit. Apart from the fact that by all accounts Mrs. Lawlor was a peculiar and unpredictable character she had by now firmly established her own methods of running the domestic side of Laragh. Owen’s aunt no doubt would be a disruptive influence and would wish to take over as mistress, relegating Kate to the position of domestic help.

Owen, however, as usual appeared maddeningly unaware of her discontent. ‘Naturally I’m pleased she’s coming,’ he remarked, his eyes fixed on the cattle grazing beyond the hedge that edged the tiny patch of lawn outside the window. ‘The position was highly unsatisfactory and a young girl like yourself staying alone in a bachelor’s house is bound to cause a lot of gossip. Aunt Alice can be annoyingly right at times.’

‘I shouldn’t have thought you were the conventional type,’ Kate said tightly, and placed the teapot on the tray with a little crash.

‘Nor am I.’ With deliberation Owen filled his pipe and got to his feet ‘Actually it’s for your sake I’m glad this situation is to be regularised. You’re young and obviously haven’t realised how your actions would appear to the neighbours.’

Fuming, Kate collected the rest of the dishes. ‘All I can say is that the local people seem to have remarkably horrible minds!’

Again with maddening imperturbability, he said, ‘No more than any others! Being well aware of the facts of life and human nature being what it is they would assume that our relationship wouldn’t be—well—’ he hesitated.

‘Why don’t you say it?’ Kate blurted furiously.
‘
Do you think I’m an utter infant? Anyway, if they know anything about you, they must realise that you’re much too wrapped up in Laragh to have any other interests. They can rest assured that our relationship is strictly platonic.’ At his look of mild amazement at this outburst she added tartly, ‘And I trust the toast this morning was to your satisfaction
!’

Owen applied a light to his pipe and raised his eyebrows. ‘Toast! I wasn’t aware I had made any complaints concerning your toast-making abilities.’

‘You said yesterday that the eggs weren’t boiled long enough,’ she retorted a little lamely.

‘Nor were they! However, allow me to congratulate you. This morning they were perfectly cooked.’

Kate knew enough about her employer by this time to know that he was deliberately provoking her.

‘By the way,’ he added when he had puffed his pipe until it was burning to his satisfaction, ‘Doretta rang up last night to say
s
he’d like to come along today for her cookery demonstration. Is that all right with you
?
’

Kate, who had been on the point of lifting up the tray, laid it down again. ‘Doretta coming today?’ she asked flatly.

Suddenly all fight seemed to leave her. Somehow or other she had been hoping that the idea would die a natural death and nothing would come of the arrangement. But she should have known the Italian girl better. Doretta’s actions were coolly calculating, and Owen was now her target.

‘But you didn’t tell me,’ she protested. ‘I’d have got the ingredients in.’

‘She phoned late last night and I presumed you were safely tucked up in bed.’

Yes, it would be typical of Doretta to ring late, Kate thought; the soft warm night forming a romantic ambience as their voices sped to each other out of the darkness.

‘As to the ingredients, Doretta made a point of saying that she would bring them with her. There’s some special shop in Limerick Where she gets her Italian goods and she was sure you wouldn’t know them.’

Kate picked up the laden tray in silence and headed for the door.

As he opened it for her, he said casually, ‘It was thoughtful of her, wasn’t it, to save you the trouble of shopping for the things?’

Kate glanced up and for a moment their eyes met. His expression told her nothing. His eyes were the same colour, she told herself, as the steely glint of the ploughshare with which he cultivated Laragh. But she, on the contrary, realised that her eyes were bright with anger.

‘
You mustn’t let Doretta’s visit upset you,’ he remarked. ‘It’s obvious she’s anxious to make friends and it would be pleasant for you to have a companion while you’re here.’

Yes, and pleasant, no doubt, Kate fumed inwardly, to afford the beautiful Doretta an opportunity to drop in at Laragh any time the fancy took her. She did not trust herself to speak but, tight-lipped, scuttled past him with the tray.

Luckily for herself, Kate did not see the faint smile that touched her employer’s lips as he followed her hurrying figure and left the house by a side door. His new domestic help, he was realising, was not one to dissemble her feelings, and it was fairly obvious Doretta’s visit was not welcomed by her and he felt faintly intrigued to discover how
s
he would react when Doretta temporarily took over her kitchen. She was a strange, variable little creature, he thought, a little like that ridiculous Bedsocks of hers who now sat sunning herself on the wall, regarding Owen with a little of the wary suspicion of her mistress.

‘Bedsocks, you bad cat,’ he admonished her. ‘You must stop scraping up the seedlings in the kitchen garden, otherwise you’ll get seriously in Dan’s bad books.’ Carelessly he put a hand over Bedsock
s
’s seal-smooth coat, then gave a little exclamation and used an uncomplimentary epithet as Bedsocks darted out a paw and raked her claws down his hand.

Ruefully he sucked the red weals. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised if your mistress some day took somewhat similar action if she really got her dander up,’ he remarked as Bedsocks, with an air of accomplishment, settled herself down again and blinked her amber eyes sleepily in the sun.

The men were finishing breakfast as Kate returned to the kitchen and were chatting desultorily, putting off the moment when they must go about their various duties. She had established a friendly bantering relationship with them, although Joe was still inclined to regard her languishingly as she went about serving the table, and made no secret of the fact that he was badly smitten. Kate had got over the first embarrassment his behaviour caused her and now that she knew more of his rather volatile nature, regarded him with amused tolerance.

‘Come on now, lads,’ Dan said, ‘it’s time we were moving. Isn’t the boss himself already gone above to the field?’

‘Well, I want more tea,’ Joe said stubbornly, his eyes already swivelling in Kate’s direction.

‘No, you don’t, boy,’ said Mick.
‘
You’re only looking for a chance to be alone with Kate in the kitchen. Up you get! Kate’s got more to do than to be humouring the likes of you.’

‘Yes, do go off, Joe,’ Kate said with something like asperity. ‘I’ve loads to do and the kitchen will need tidying up, otherwise Miss Denzzani will be saying I’m a poor substitute for Mrs. Murphy.’

‘Is Miss Doretta calling?’ Joe asked with interest. ‘She’s a fine well-set-up girl, though they do say she’s very saucy in her manner on account of getting off with Nicky Fitzpatrick.’

Kate smiled as she saw the familiar dreamy expression in Joe’s rather foolish-looking blue eyes. ‘She’s going to show me how to make an Italian dish. I do wish the walls didn’t look so grimy.’ She glanced a little disconsolately at the dark shadow on the wall where the wood and turf that was burnt in the range had formed a sooty shadow.

‘Tell you what I’ll do,’ Joe offered enthusiastically, ‘I’ll make up a sup of lime in the bucket and give it a lick over for you.’

‘Oh, would you, Joe
!’
Kate said gratefully.

The two older men, remarking that Joe was fixing himself up with a soft job, departed with good-natured resignation.

Kate, however, although undeceived by Joe’s sudden enthusiasm for whitewashing, was delighted to see the kitchen gradually turn snowy white as Joe wielded the whitewash brush, chattering away to her as she washed up the dishes and generally tried to make the kitchen as neat and presentable as possible, although, at the same time, she mentally castigated herself for allowing Doretta’s impending visit to cause su
c
h a stir.

As the morning wore on Joe began to show signs of marked fatigue and the arm that wielded the brush began to move in slow motion as Kate took from the oven a tray of deliciously aromatic gingerbread. Smiling to herself, she filled the teapot from the iron kettle that was kept constantly on the boil at the back of the stove, and when she invited Joe to a mug of his favourite black brew and a plate of gingerbread he scuttled down the ladder with alacrity.

He was working his way through his third mug of tea and his second batch of gingerbread when Kate, who was polishing the brass candlesticks on the dresser, heard him say conversationally, ‘Some say around here that the boss will never marry and others that, if he can’t get Miss Doretta, he’ll take no one.’

Kate was glad that her back was to him so that he could not see the surprise his words gave her. ‘Miss Doretta? But I didn’t realise he knew her very well!’

Joe chortled. ‘I should say they know each other pretty well. Wasn’t it himself saved her when the wild old stallion that Mr. Nicky put her up on as a bit of devilment ran away with her when she came here first and was mad keen to learn to ride? I can tell you if it wasn’t for the Boss they’d both be at the bottom of the old lime quarry they have in the grounds of Ballyfeeny. A lucky thing for her he had ridden over to the Fitzpatricks’ to borrow a harrow or something else, and there she was, tearing across the countryside on the big black stallion with
the
bit between its teeth, yelling her head off and making straight for the quarry that hasn’t been worked for near fifty years, and they say the pool at the foot of it is near sixty feet deep. Well, just as she was nearly over, the Boss makes up on her and catches the stallion by the bridle. I can tell you it were a near thing. Then she falls in a faint and the Boss carries her up to Ballyfeeny and sets her down on a sofa and fetches her a sup of brandy.’

Yes, thought Kate glumly, a nice romantic setting with Owen rescuing the beautiful Doretta from a certain death, and when Doretta had got over the initial shock of her narrow escape no doubt she would make the best of the circumstances!

Yes indeed,’ Joe spooned sugar from the bottom of his mug. ‘If it hadn’t been for the Boss acting so quick there would have been no chance of her ever returning to foreign parts, I can tell you.’

‘But then I don’t think she really intends to return to foreign parts,’ Kate said musingly. Then, as she saw the look of sly comprehension flicker into Joe’s eyes, she regretted her carelessness.

‘No, you’re right there, miss, for it’s said that she has her eye on Nicky Fitzpatrick and Ballyfeeny, and no doubt she’ll get it too, for Master Nicky is powerful keen on her by all accounts.’

Kate didn’t answer, already regretting her indiscretion in discussing the girl. Suppose he should broach the subject again in Owen’s presence, it would look as if she had been discussing his family affairs with his farm-hand. Although it wouldn’t be long before the keen eyes of the country folk would notice that Doretta was transferring her interest to Owen!

‘Thanks, Joe,’ she said hastily. ‘The walls really look wonderfully improved. I’ll let you get back to your usual jobs.’

Joe sighed and reluctantly got to his feet. ‘No trouble at all. It was a real pleasure, I’m sure, and any time you want me to give a hand just let me know.’

When she had hustled him out of the kitchen Kate, feeling hot and flustered, ran upstairs and tidied up. It was typical of Doretta not to let her know at what time she was arriving, she thought crossly as she changed into a cotton frock and ran the brush through her dark golden hair. No doubt Doretta was hoping to catch her in the midst of chores and place her at a disadvantage! You’re jealous of her, Kate addressed herself severely in the mirror, so why don’t you admit it and stop pretending Doretta’s at fault? You’re fully expecting she’ll make you dance attendance on her as a sort of glorified scullerymaid, when she’ll probably be perfectly charming!

When at last Doretta did arrive in the afternoon she did in fact seem at her most fascinating. She drove up in the large gleaming Fitzpatrick car and with the help of Joe, who somehow managed to find himself in the yard just as she arrived, carried into the house a collection of intriguing little parcels.

When she had seen them safely placed on the kitchen table, Doretta looked around with interest. ‘But everything is so bright and shining,’ she enthused, ‘and how charming the copper skillets look against the walls which are so white!’

Kate was relieved that Joe had at last disappeared, as no doubt he would have taken the opportunity to announce that they were barely dry after his morning’s work. She would have hated Doretta to think she was trying to impress her.

The Italian girl shrugged out of her coat and donned a vividly patterned floral smock.
‘F
irst the rice must be cooked,’ she announced, unfastening one of her packages, ‘so you will be a dear, won’t you, Kate, and start it off? But perhaps a little more fuel first, I think.’

Kate nodded and hurried out to the shed feeling more guilty than ever as she saw how amiable and conciliating Doretta had turned out to be. Carrying back an armful of beech logs, she stoked the cavernous range, then reached down one of the copper skillets she had been at such pains to polish up in preparation for Doretta’s visit and filled it with boiling water. She watched intrigued as Doretta displayed her purchases, which included garlic, white wine and saffron.

With quick sure movements Doretta emptied a packet of parmesan cheese into a small bowl and proceeded to crush a clove of garlic.

‘Shall I pop the rice in now?’ Kate asked cheerfully as the contents of the pot bubbled furiously.

‘Yes, do,’ Doretta sounded absorbed and abstracted. ‘The rice is Piedmontese—the only possible type to make a successful risotto. I had great trouble in obtaining it. However, I was determined to succeed, and when I make up my mind to obtain something I want very much I do not permit anything to stand in my way.’ She raised her dark eyes from
the
bowl and darted an enigmatic glance in Kate’s direction.

If it’s Owen you’re thinking of
you need fear no competition from my direction, Kate mentally apostrophised her, for apart from the fact that I can run the house and get on with the men your precious Owen doesn’t know I’m alive.

She had no sooner tossed the rice into the boiling water when the Italian girl gave a little scream of dismay. ‘That is not how I cook the rice at Ballyfeeny! It must be
sautéed
in butter first, otherwise you will end with hideous paste, like a rice pudding which is everything vile.’ She shuddered with disgust. ‘It is lucky that I bought a second packet, as I knew that when the men had tasted this dish they would be anxious for you to cook it.’ She unfastened a second package as Kate, much chastened and impressed by Doretta’s dedication to the culinary arts, snatched the skillet from the range and rushing out into the yard scattered the contents to the poultry who fluttered flapping and squawking towards her and began to peck enthusiastically, evidently well pleased by the change of diet.

As Doretta proceeded with her risotto a strong smell of garlic permeated the kitchen, and Owen as he entered sniffed enthusiastically. ‘Whatever it is, it smells delicious.’

Doretta laughed gaily, pleased at his appreciation of her efforts. She looked cool and confident as she presided over the kitchen table like a vividly coloured bird in her Italian-designed smock. Kate, on the other hand, was hot and flustered both from the heat of the range that now positively roared up the chimney and the fact that Doretta had kept her dancing attendance.

‘So, as well as being beautiful, you can cook!’ Owen leaned against the table and regarded Doretta quizzically.