Intolerable Civility

Chapter Fifteen: Uninvited

Miss Skinner left Plas Bryn that afternoon. She was not entirely embarrassed; the servants prepared a carriage for her and the stable master drove it. Yet her pride must have been smarting, for she did not come to say goodbye to Cate.

Or perhaps Demery arranged it that way. He had arranged some things, anyway, because after Miss Skinner was gone, a servant came to tell Cate that she would be dining with Sarah downstairs and did she wish to get dressed and do her hair? Cate did not wish; she was tired and upset and the thought of wearing her best dress next to someone as polished as Sarah made her miserable.

At six-thirty, Sarah's maid came to ask if Cate knew that Sarah preferred red wine to white. Cate considered herself informed.

At a quarter-to-seven, Sarah's maid returned to ask if the soup contained mushrooms, for they gave Sarah indigestion. Cate said it did.

At five to seven, Sarah's maid came back again to ask if the mushrooms could be removed from the soup. Cate, who was beginning to feel rather bothered by the intrusion, sent for the housekeeper, who sent down to the cook, who sent back that as it was mushroom soup, the mushrooms could not be removed from it.

For half-an-hour, there was peace. Cate put Luke to bed and then lay on the sofa, still in her morning gown with a thick woollen shawl over her shoulders, staring at the ceiling and letting her thoughts drift. She was not looking forward to the dinner. She had much rather dine alone, particularly as it seemed that Sarah was fussy. But she supposed it would be rude to ask a guest to dine alone on the first night of her visit — even if the guest was uninvited.

At half past seven, Sarah herself came into the room, after a polite but determined knock. She now wore a claret-coloured evening dress. It set off her dark hair and eyes and made her face seem ivory-white and very smooth.

"You are not dressed!" She said. "Do you feel unwell?"

"I was just about to get ready," Cate said.

She had meant to brush and pin her hair and get rid of her shawl. It had not occurred to her that Sarah would wear an evening gown. It seemed very extravagant for a quiet country dinner à deux, but it made Cate unsure of her own appearance.

"Then I won't disturb you." Sarah retreated back to the door. "I just wanted to ask you if you know if David will drink white wine or red, for I can drink white if no one else wants red."

Cate sat up straighter. "David is coming to dinner?"

"Why would he not be? He must be hungry."

"Yes, but..." Cate trailed off. She had not dined with Demery since their marriage. Of course, he did not wish for her company. He had made that clear. But when there had been guests to tea she had come down a few times, offered Luke up to meet them, and played the part of the polite hostess. Sarah was a guest. Perhaps that changed things.

Cate looked down at her morning gown, crumpled and stained with Luke's drool. "I think I should get dressed."

"But about the wine?" Sarah hovered by the doorway.

"You should drink whatever you please."

Sarah looked doubtful.

"It will make no difference to Demery or me," Cate said. "Truly."

Sarah pursed her lips together. "Then I will drink red."

She left. Cate scrambled up from the sofa and rang the bell for her maid. She was untangling the knots in her hair and trying desperately to decide between a pale pink evening gown which made her look washed out and a poppy orange day dress which might be elevated by jewellery when her maid arrived. Her maid was a forthright, perceptive woman who made the decision for her: Cate went downstairs only slightly late for dinner in a plain white day gown with a Marie-Louise blue dressing gown over it. She was, after all, meant to be sick, and her maid said that the blue brought out her eyes.