Intolerable Civility

Chapter Sixteen: Until You

His first morning back at Plas Bryn, David awoke to the sound of Luke wailing. It was very early, the first hint of light filtering through the curtains and a steady drumming rain beating outside. He waited for Luke to quiet so he could get back to sleep. Luke did not quiet. Eventually, David pulled himself groggily out of bed, slipped into a dressing gown, and followed the sound to Cate's bedroom door. He knocked, but did not open it.

"Yes?" she said.

"It's me. May I come in?"

"Please."

He opened the door and looked through the gap, not entering the room. Cate was in her nightgown, rocking Luke against her chest. His little face was scrunched up with the force of his tears.

"Is he alright?" he asked.

"He's fine."

"He's crying."

"Sometimes, he does, for no reason. Perhaps he had a bad dream." She kissed his hair. "Shush, darling. Shush. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, no you've nothing to apologise for. Is there nothing I can do?"

She shook her head. "He'll wear out soon enough."

David should have left then, but instead he leaned against the door jamb and watched her. In the dim light, she looked younger, the lines on her brow disappeared, the shadows under her eyes faded. It would have been a peaceful, charming picture, had it not been for Luke's screams. The sort of charming picture of married life David had thought lay in his future, when he was courting Cate. And now he had it, but it was not his picture. Not really. Cate was not his lover and Luke was not his baby.

"I return to London tomorrow," he said, making up his mind that moment. "I've no reason to stay here longer. And I've business to attend to."

"Oh!" Cate looked surprised, then guilty. "What about Sarah?"

"She wants to visit her old haunts, I believe. Can you tolerate a guest?"

Cate bit her lip. "I do not wish to be entirely alone, certainly. Perhaps I would be happier with a guest."

And happier still if that guest were not Sarah, David saw. But he had no wish to return to London with Sarah in tow. He had had enough of her, most acutely last night when she had come upstairs to bully him into dining together with them and then made such uncomfortable conversation. Not only had her conduct at the dinner table been embarrassing, but once Cate had left she had remarked upon Cate's manners and mode of dress in a sort of pitying manner that had been far more insulting than if she had outright called Cate ugly and rude. Cate, for all her flaws, was well-mannered and understood the value of silence.

"She seems quite friendly," Cate added optimistically.

"She is." David quelled the whisper of guilt inside him. Sarah might be an infliction upon Cate's society, but she would treat her better than Miss Skinner had. "Well. I just came to see if you were alright. I'm going back to bed now."

"Sorry for disturbing you."

"Think nothing of it."

He did go back to bed, though he could not fall asleep again. At the earliest polite hour, he dressed and left the house to see his steward. Baxter was not surprised to see him, as word of his arrival had spread the afternoon before. He had strong, sweet tea ready, and they drank it by the kitchen-parlour fire.

"You're back quickly," Baxter said. "I hope that means you were successful in London."

"Partially. Some people pledged small funds to me. I've got the receipts in my study, waiting for you."