The Other Cathy (18 page)

‘Good morning, Mr Sutcliffe,’ Chloe greeted him coldly, ‘I am surprised that you should honour us with a second call
after such a short interval.’

‘Forgive me if I intrude, but when I was in Wyke yester
day evening I purchased some hothouse peaches. It occurred
to me that Miss Cathy might enjoy them, and I have brought them without delay while they are still at their best.’

Chloe took the basket, only partly mollified. ‘Well, it was kind of you to have spared a thought for the poor child.’

‘How is Miss Cathy today?’

‘The improvement continues, I’m glad to say,’ Emma put in quickly. She met Matthew’s eyes for an instant, conveying
in her glance that it was an impossible situation, that he
shouldn’t have come. Then chance intervened and gave them
an opportunity to exchange a few private words.

Old Brigg the
gardener appeared just outside one of the tall windows and
began hacking at the ivy which grew profusely on the wall. Chloe, exclaiming in horror that the clumsy fool was tramp
ling all over her larkspur, dashed across the room, flung up the
sash, and started an angry altercation with the man.

Matthew took a couple of strides towards Emma, and
whispered, ‘I have been making some enquiries, and I can tell
you this quite positively – whoever broke into that deed
box, it was not your uncle.’

Emma felt a wave of thankfulness surge over her. ‘How did
you discover that? How can you be so sure?’

‘I’m afraid I cannot tell you,’ he said.

Emma bit her lip, feeling snubbed; then her swirling thoughts took shape, and she gasped, ‘Blanche must have done
it!’

‘Blanche? But why should she?’

‘You have been questioning her about her husband, haven’t
you? Perhaps, afterwards, she realised the significance of what
she had told you, and wanted to prevent the chance of any
further evidence against Uncle William coming to light.’

‘That’s possible, I suppose. Bui when would she have had an opportunity to get at the deed box?’

‘She was here yesterday morning, visiting Cathy. I thought
it rather odd at the time – Aunt Blanche hasn’t shown much
concern for her before. She said she had a little gift of sweetmeats for Cathy and left the room to fetch them from her
gig. But she was gone for ages, and when she returned she said
she’d been chatting to Aunt Chloe. She could easily have slipped up to the attic in the time.’

Before Matthew could answer, Chloe slammed down the
window.

‘That Brigg is an oaf! If it were up to me, he’d be dis
missed.’ She directed a meaningful glance at Matthew. ‘Well now, Mr Sutcliffe, I’m afraid that my niece and I must return upstairs to our invalid.’

‘I quite understand, Miss Hardaker. I will take my leave of
you.’

Giving Emma a stern signal to remain where she was, Chloe herself showed Matthew out. When she returned to the
drawing-room, she closed the door carefully.

‘Emma, that man must not be encouraged.’

‘Encouraged, Aunt Chloe? How have I encouraged Mr Sut
cliffe?’

‘You must have done for him to call two days running. And
you were seen walking with him in the village the other day.’

‘But that was merely a chance encounter, at the library.’

‘So I should hope, indeed!’

‘Aunt Chloe, I don’t see why you are suddenly so against Mr Sutcliffe. It was only the other day that I was
ordered
to meet him and make myself pleasant to him.’

‘But now you have gone too far! I’ve not yet spoken to your
uncle on the matter, but I have no doubt he will be as disapproving as I am of the free association that has developed between the two of you. It is most improper and must cease.’ Pausing, she added with a limp smile, ‘You have no mother to guide you, child, so you must listen to those who have your good at heart.’

Emma returned to her cousin’s room in a mutinous frame of mind, but the routine task of helping Cathy practise her
deep breathing exercises had a somewhat calming effect. Even
so, she found it difficult to be normally civil to Bernard when
he called to see his patient shortly before dinner. Afterwards, as Emma was accompanying him downstairs, he said, ‘You seem rather out of sorts today. Has something upset you?’

‘I have had a tiff with Aunt Chloe, that’s all.’

He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I’m sure she has little
cause to find fault with you, Emma.’

Her anger gained ascendancy over discretion. ‘It really is
too absurd! Aunt Chloe gave me a severe lecture just because
Mr Sutcliffe has called here twice – to ask after Cathy. That,
and the fact that I happened to meet him in the library last
week and we strolled part of the way home together.’

Bernard’s clear, hazel eyes were troubled. ‘Yes, I’ve heard
about that.’

‘Good heavens, is it all over the village? Can I not take a
few steps in a man’s company without everyone gossiping?’

‘It is not
a
man, I think, but that particular man to whom
your aunt objects. And can you wonder at it, Emma, the man
being who he is?’

‘I was instructed by Uncle Randolph,’ she said in a danger
ous voice, ‘that old enmities cannot be kept up for ever. That when a man has paid the price for his crime, he must be
accepted back into decent society. Always assuming, of course,
that he was guilty in the first place, about which there must
be room for doubt.’

There was a small pause, then Bernard said bleakly, ‘I see
that you have greatly changed your tune about Sutcliffe. But I
beg you, I
implore
you to treat him with no more than the
minimum of courtesy. Do not allow yourself to become .,.
involved with him. Believe me, he is not a man of whom you
could ever approve if you knew him better.’

‘What makes you say that?’ she challenged.

Bernard looked embarrassed. ‘I happen to know it. There is
no possible doubt, I’m afraid.’

She fingered the smooth cabochon brooch at her throat
while she struggled to conceal her agitation. What was it con
cerning Matthew that Bernard was so reluctant to explain, she wondered desolately. Could it be something to do with Blanche? Had Bernard some knowledge of a liaison between
the two of them?’

Returning slowly to Cathy’s room, stair by stair as if facing a daunting climb, she wished she had not told Bernard about
her clash with Aunt Chloe. The alacrity with which she had
sprung to Matthew’s defence must have betrayed her sym
pathy for him ... deeper feelings than she had been aware of
until this moment. But the sudden searing pain in her heart could not be ignored. Emma rebuked herself sternly, how
foolish to become emotionally entangled in the question of
whether or not Matthew Sutcliffe was a wronged man. All she
had ever intended was to keep an open mind; to stifle her
natural prejudice against him and give him the chance of
proving his innocence. If he
was
innocent.

* * *

‘Cathy, I thought I might go for a ride this afternoon.’ Emma looked hopefully at her cousin, who was sitting up in a chair
by the open window, wrapped in a shawl, with a fleecy rug across her knees and a footstool at her feet. ‘Will it be all right
if I leave you for a little while? I could get Nelly to sit with
you, if you like.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I can ring the bell should I need any
thing. You go out and enjoy yourself.’

Was there a note of envy, Emma wondered, of resentment?
But it wasn’t to indulge any casual whim for diversion that
she had planned to go riding today. She had suddenly felt unbearably stifled indoors, and craved the tonic effect of the pure sweet air of the moorland heights.

Before changing into her riding habit, Emma thought it
wise to go first to the stables to check whether Seth had time
to accompany her; for Joseph, she knew, was still laid low with sciatica and had gone to stay with his sister, whose
husband was Bythorpe’s blacksmith. Crossing the cobbled
yard, she heard a low mutter of voices, and wondered what
Ursly was doing here. The old woman and Seth were standing
close together in Kirstie’s stall, examining the mare. They
both turned quickly at Emma’s approach and in Seth’s eyes
was a look of dismay and guilt; though, as always, she could
read nothing from Ursly’s veiled expression.

‘What’s going on here?’

‘Nowt, Miss Emma,’ mumbled Seth awkwardly. ‘Leastways,
’tis all reet now. Took real bad, was Kirstie, but Gran’mer
soon got her mended again.’

‘Aye,’ Ursly agreed, nodding her shawled head. ‘There’s
nowt to fret thyseln about.’

‘But what’s been the matter with her? Why wasn’t I told?
And why wasn’t the veterinarian called in?’ Emma went
anxiously to the sorrel mare who nuzzled her hand affectionately, apparently in fine fettle.

‘I dursn’t call in Mr Sager, miss. ‘Twould all have been found out, see.’

‘You’d better explain yourself, Seth. What would have
been found out?’

‘About Oakroyd House, miss. When I rode over last week they’d been trimming t’yew hedge, ’twere all overgrown afore Mr Sutcliffe moved in, see. And near where I tethered Kirstie there were a pile o’ yew clippings.’

‘Oh no! How could you, Seth? You must have known how dangerous yew can be to a horse.’

‘The lad were in a rush, like,’ Ursly explained, ‘what wi’
him having to do it all hisself, wi’ Joseph takken to his bed. He never noticed t’yew clippings till he were coming away,
and he couldn’ see no sign that the mare had nibbled at ‘em,
so he thought ’twould be all reet. But it weren’t. So he come and fetched me.’

‘But Seth, you had no right to take such a risk,’ Emma
protested angrily. ‘Kirstie might have been seriously ill, she might even have died! And you concealed her condition just because you didn’t want your carelessness to be discovered. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’

She saw the blood rush to the boy’s face, darkening his already swarthy skin. The old woman jerked her head defiantly and glared at Emma.

‘The lad’s done nowt to be shamed of! Mayhap tha’s the
one to be shamed, Miss Emma, making use o’ young Seth to
carry thy secret letters to yon fellow. He’s not let on about
it to another soul but me, and you can rely on’t he won’t
tell no one, neither. A good lad, is Seth, so don’t tha go blaming him when by rights tha ought to be blaming thyseln.’

Feeling deeply contrite, Emma stammered, ‘I’m sorry,
I – I wasn’t thinking. Please forgive me, Seth, and you too Ursly. Believe me, I’m truly grateful to you both.’ She hesi
tated. ‘Kirstie is quite well again now?’

‘Aye, she’s reet as noonday,’ Seth assured her. ‘But ’twere a
near thing for a bit.’

‘Never!’ Ursly scoffed. ‘Not once tha come for me, lad.
Lucky thing tha didn’ call in that there horse doctor. Like as not he’d have let t’mare die of the convulsions.’

Emma sighed. ‘Thank heaven that everything’s turned out
all right in the end. What was it you gave Kirstie to make her well again, Ursly?’

‘Aye, there’s them as ’ud like to know my secrets, wouldn’ they, them as think a man wi’ book learning is better’n an old
woman like me.’

Seth said proudly, ‘She knew what needed to be done, did
Gran’mer. T’first night she stayed right through to morning,
till Kirstie stopped the trembles. And been here a couple o’ times since then, she has.’

Emma felt more ashamed than ever. To think that while
she was comfortably asleep in her warm bed, this old woman
whose heart was none too sound had spent a whole night
tending a sick mare here in the stable. If only there was some
way in which she could show her appreciation, thought Emma,
but she knew that any offer of payment would offend Ursly
so she merely reiterated her sincere thanks. Then on an impulse, she added, ‘While you’re here, would you like to come
in and see Cathy for a few minutes? And after that I’ll drive you home in the trap.’

‘I’ll come and see Miss Cathy reet gladly! But there’s no
call for t’trap. I’ve got two good feet, haven’t I?’

‘But you must let me take you home, I insist! Will you
have the trap ready for us please, Seth?’

Emma knew there was little risk in taking Ursly indoors, as
Chloe would still be resting in her room. But as they crossed
the hall to the staircase, Hoad emerged from the dining
room and frowned blackly. His resentment of Ursly harked
back to the days of her special relationship with Aunt Henri
etta.

Cathy was still seated by the window, a book in her lap –
the inevitable
Wuthering Heights.
She gave no sign of sur
prise at Ursly’s presence, and there was a withdrawn look in
her eyes that caused Emma a stab of disquiet. But when Cathy spoke, she appeared rational enough.

‘It’s good to see you, Ursly dear. Why have you come?’