Read The Critchfield Locket Online

Authors: Sheila M. Rogers

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Historical, #Victorian, #Historical Romance

The Critchfield Locket (4 page)

             
How wonderful it must be to have a home such as this, yet there is something that seems to steal away his joy. There is a pain or sorrow, a sadness that runs deep. I feel… I feel as though I can somehow relate to his despair. Even though he has not spoken of it, even though I cannot remember my own pain, I can feel it. It sits there with the rest of my memories, just beyond my grasp. Remnants of voices, faces, familiarities flutter through me, yet I cannot reach them.

             
Kate placed her pen back down on the writing desk as she read over her words. She had begun writing down her thoughts and feelings in hopes that it would help her regain her memory. She also felt that since she did not know why she lost her memories in the first place, there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Nicholas felt like a cowardly fool. If the roles had been reversed, he would not have believed the sudden excuse to leave. He was having a grand time right up until the moment he nearly spoke Emily’s name. He felt he would choke on the words as they formed in his mouth. Emily had loved the house nearly as much as he did. Somehow it seemed wrong to share that love with another person, especially someone he had only just met. Yet he felt a comfortable familiarity when he was around Kate.

             
For Emily’s sake, I will help Ms. Dornacher. I can be a gracious host without becoming attached. After all, she will not be at Critchfield Manor long.

             
He sat down at his desk in the library, deciding that he should do some work so that what he said would not be a total lie. As he pushed his papers around, his thoughts were full of Emily. Before he could stop it from happening, tears began to run down his cheeks. This time, he allowed himself to give into the feelings that he so often pushed aside. This time, he finally said goodbye.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Kate
found herself feeling anxious for reasons she could not explain. She paced the room, and then stepped over to the window. Looking out, she spotted what looked like a rabbit sitting on the garden lawn. She decided that fresh air could help her lift her mood, so she grabbed a straw hat that was hanging in the wardrobe and headed to the garden. The rabbit must have been scared off by her approach for he was nowhere to be found. Kate could pick up the faint smell of peppermint in the breeze. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she sat down on a bench. She stayed that way for a few minutes, letting the warmth of the sun sink in. A rustle in the bushes quickly caught her attention. Slowly a small gray and white kitten crawled out, mewing for his mother. He was not getting a response. Kate cautiously approached him with her hand outstretched. Instead of running away, he rubbed his furry cheek against her hand and began to purr.

“Oh, you poor little thing, so lost and all alone, I bet you are hungry. Perhaps I can get Ms. Husk to spare some morsels of food for you.”

Kate scooped the kitten up, carried him to her room and placed him in the wash basin.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The kitten protested with his sharp little claws as Kate wiped him down with a damp cloth.

“Now, what shall we call you? Hmm, I know, ‘Stormy’ for the mix of your gray and white fur reminds me of storm clouds.”

A knock upon Kate’s door startled both her and the kitten. Without waiting for a response, Margaret entered the room.

“Ms.
Kate, I hope I’m not disturbing you, but Mrs. Thompson asked me to bring your afternoon tea to you. She said…”

“Mew”

“She.. what was that?”

“That would be Stormy.”
Kate gently picked up the kitten and presented him to Margaret.

“Oh, is he not just the sweetest thing? Where did you find him?”

“He happened upon me while I was resting in the garden. I couldn’t resist helping him. That gives me an idea. Could you poor some of that milk onto the saucer? I am sure he is hungry.”

“Oh yes, poor little creature. He will need some real food as well, more than just biscuits.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“We will have to hide him from Mrs. Thompson. She will not look kindly on having a dirty animal in this house.”

“I understand. If we both do our best to bring an extra morsel or two from our plates and I take him outside to dig in the sand, no one will be the wiser.”

Kate
spent the remainder of the afternoon re-arranging her cabinet so that one of the drawers could be emptied out to give Stormy a place of his own. As she dressed for dinner, it occurred to her how much she was looking forward to seeing Mr. Bennett. While buttoning up the fitted blue bodice of her dress, she wondered how Mr. Bennett would respond to news of the kitten. Would he be stern like Mrs. Thompson or would he feel as she did, that the kitten was in need of their help? She decided to let his mood determine if and when he should be told at all.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Nicholas took out his handkerchief, quickly drying his eyes before someone might chance upon him in his ragged state. He caught his splotchy reflection in a letter opener on his desk. He walked over to the window seat, situated himself on the red damask covered cushion and gazed out at the garden. It took his reddened eyes a moment to adjust to what he was seeing. Ms. Dornacher appeared to have picked up a small animal, conceal it within a fold of her skirt, and then proceed to walk towards the house, towards his home… with an animal.

             
“What in the blazes does she think she is doing?”

             
“Sir?” Mr. Baxter had silently entered the room, startling Nicholas.

             
“Wha,? Oh Thomas, I did not hear you come in.”

             
“Who were you speaking of sir?”

             
“Ms. Dornacher, I believe she has taken it upon herself to rescue a helpless animal.”

             
“Would you like for me to find out sir?”

             
“No Thomas, that will not be necessary. I will speak to Ms. Dornacher about this. Thomas,”

             
“Yes sir?”

             
“Do not mention this to Mrs. Thompson. She has enough on her mind at present. There is no need to trouble her with this.”

             
“Of course sir, as you wish.”

             
Nicholas went to his room and dressed for dinner. He felt different, lighter, as if he had finally been able to drop a heavy load that he had carried for years.

             

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

Kate made her way to the breakfast room. Having arrived first, she took the opportunity to fully scrutinize the room’s décor. Sage-green wainscoting covered the lower portion of the walls, while the middle was covered in a lemon yellow and white flourished paper and were topped with a light blue painted cornice. From the cornice, natural landscape paintings hung low on yellow cords so that they were nearly eye level. The ceiling was stenciled with floral patterns in a paler yellow. The windows had green shades that had been lowered for the evening hours.

             
“Good evening Ms. Dornacher.”

             
“Good evening Mr. Bennett.”

             
“Shall we?” Nicholas gestured towards the table and chairs. Instead of relying on the butler, Nicholas pulled out Kate’s chair himself. It felt natural to do so, as if he had always done it.

             
Ms. Rusch was assisted by Margaret with the dinner service. Kate caught Margaret putting some morsels of food into her pocket and smiled her approval.

             
“Ms. Dornacher, did you have a pleasant afternoon?”

             
“Yes, I took the liberty of enjoying your splendid gardens.”

             
“I see, and did you interact with the wildlife?” His tone told Kate he was on to her, which made her blush.
How does he know?

             
“Ms. Dornacher?”

             
“Katherine, you may call me Katherine.”

             
“And you may call me Nicholas. Now then, about the garden…”

             
“Oh yes, I found a kitten. He was lost and all alone and I just had to help him!”

             
“I see. This story has a sense of familiarity to it.”

             
Kate pondered his words before blushing once again.

“I had intended to tell you now at dinner. I would have informed you directly, but I knew you were busy working and I did not wish to disturb you.”

              “Indeed” Nicholas was thankful that she had not found him while he was in such an embarrassing state. “He may turn out to be a great mouser. Perhaps it would be good to keep him around.” A smile brightened Nicholas’s face.

             
“Stormy.”

             
“What is?”

             
“The kitten’s name is Stormy. I will see to it that he is cared for.”

             
“Make doubly sure that Stormy stays out of trouble. Mrs. Thompson will need some convincing as to the merits of keeping him.”

             
Kate frowned before she realized she was doing so.

             
“Do not worry, I will speak to Mrs. Thompson myself regarding this issue.”

             
“Thank you… Nicholas.”

             
“You are welcome, Katherine.”

             
After dinner, they retired to the music room.

             
“Do you play the piano-forte Ms… Katherine?”

             
“I…” Kate stopped mid sentence. Try as she might, she could not remember.

             
“I am sorry, I was not thinking…”

             
“No, there is no reason to apologize, it is a correct question to ask. At present, I cannot recall my musical knowledge or abilities.”

             
“Perhaps if I played a tune, you might at least remember if you even like music at all.”

             
Nicholas began to play “The Fountain in the Park” by Ed Haley. When he got to the chorus, he also began to sing. Kate was pleased to hear his rich baritone voice as she watched his fingers gracefully move across the keys. She lifted her gaze to his face, locking eyes with him. Without any thought, Kate surprised both herself and Nicholas as she joined him in singing on the second chorus.

"I know this song!" Her face beamed as she smiled excitedly at
Nicholas. "I remembered something!"

             
"So you have." He happily remarked. "Perhaps more memories will come back to you in the same way."

             
"Perhaps... perhaps I will remember that I am set to inherit a wealthy estate, or maybe I will remember that I am just a lowly servant who secretly dressed in her madam's clothing."

             
They both laughed in unison at her remarks. The laughter felt good to Nicholas. It had been a long time since a woman had made him laugh that way.

             
"Well Kate, even if you are a wolf in sheep's clothing, we have been invited to dine with the Dickson's tomorrow, and I have accepted the invitation.

             
"Thank you." Her sweet smile softened her face. "I am looking forward to it." She yawned uncontrollably. "Oh, excuse me."

             
"You must be tired after your adventurous day. I think it is time you turn in for the evening."

             
"I think I shall." She began to walk out of the room, but stopped and turned so that she was facing him. "Thank you for all that you have done for me. I do not know how I will ever repay you for your kindness.

             
"Think nothing of it. Helping the lost and lonely is the right thing to do." He smiled warmly at her. Kate smiled back, and then quickly exited the room before he could see her cheeks blush once again.

Kate
chastised herself upon returning to her room.
I cannot even remember who I am, yet I am flirting with the very person who is trying to help me. He has been nothing but a true gentleman by helping out a lady in distress. He is being friendly and engaging and, not because he has aspirations where I am concerned, but because he is a genuinely, nice fellow.

             
Margaret graciously agreed to keep Stormy in her room for the night. Kate needed to look well rested for her dinner engagement at the Dickson's.

Other books

Iron Winter (Northland 3) by Baxter, Stephen
Hand in Glove by Ngaio Marsh
A Duchess by Midnight by Jillian Eaton
A Masterly Murder by Susanna Gregory
Eitana, la esclava judía by Javier Arias Artacho
Storm Surge - Part 2 by Melissa Good