Chapter Nineteen
Catherine awoke on the morning of her birthday with a feeling of such overwhelming excitement. She bathed and dressed quickly, electing to wear a white linen summer dress with intricate Broderie Anglaise lace needlework.
Bounding downstairs, she found that Benjamin was not already seated at the breakfast table, unusual for him as he always rose earlier than her, but Digweed stood in the corner, teapot in hand, grinning widely.
"Happy birthday, my lady!" he exclaimed, hurrying forward to pull out her chair for her and fill her teacup.
"Thank you, Digweed! Benjamin is late this morning, isn't he?"
"Ah, well, my lady, he had something to attend to this morning. Said you were to start breakfast without him." Digweed explained, placing a plate of kedgeree in front of her.
Catherine began eating, whilst Digweed flitted back and forth with more tea, fresh orange juice, and seemingly infinite slices of toast. Presently, he emerged from the kitchen with Benjamin's plate, laden with eggs, bacon, and sausages, then excused himself to go ready the carriage, for he'd be driving her to Bartleby that morning.
As if on cue, Benjamin swept into the room. On his way to take his seat he stopped behind Catherine's chair and leant over to place a small box beside her teacup and a brief, hesitant kiss atop her head.
"Happy birthday, Catherine." he said, as he sat down, his face completely impassive, affecting a placid expression as if nothing unusual had occurred, but Catherine could just see a vague pinkness to his normally alabaster cheeks.
Catherine was speechless. Benjamin had not only gotten her a present, but he had also kissed her. Her brother had kissed her. For a moment she nearly followed the instinctive urge to jump up from the table and fling her arms about his shoulders, embrace him tightly, and tell him how thankful she was that they were becoming close again, that throughout all those years at school the thing she had missed the most was her big brother's love. But she steeled herself and remained seated, thinking it better not to push her luck and make Benjamin feel more awkward; no, for the moment she would content herself with the knowledge that her brother was learning to be affectionate towards her again, and look forward to the steps they would take in the future to rekindle their former closeness.
"Thank you, Benjamin." she responded, a beaming smile upon her face. Then, gesturing to the little box beside her teacup, asked, "Is this my present?"
The corner of Benjamin's mouth quirked, "Yes, it is my understanding that all young ladies like presents, and especially on their birthdays. Well, go ahead and open it, or where you waiting for permission? I confess I am impressed, I had expected you to pounce on it as soon as you saw it, being the Cat that you are!"
"And what do you know of young ladies?" Catherine murmured to herself, reaching to pick up the box. It was small, nestled comfortably in the palm of her hand, cream in colour and tied neatly with a pale pink ribbon.
Tired of being patient and ladylike, she made quick work of the ribbon and removed the lid to reveal an exquisite gold locket decorated with intricate little flowers and elegant scrollwork. Catherine was left utterly breathless by its beauty and reduced to staring wordlessly down at it.
"I sent away to London for it." Benjamin explained, then, a tinge of doubt creeping into his voice, "If you don't like it then I shan't be offended. We can send it back and exchange it for something you choose."
Catherine immediately reached out and took his hand in hers, "I love it. Truly. Thank you, Benjamin." she said quietly, adamantly.
He responded with a tentative smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand, before turning back to his breakfast, the slight pink in his cheeks returned.
They passed the rest of breakfast talking about what Catherine planned to do at the Bartleby fair and later at the Midsummer festival in Silverydew that evening; Benjamin even reminisced about particularly memorable events on occasions he had attended them as a boy. Catherine felt hopeful that if their relationship and his mood continued to improve, then she would very likely successfully coax him into joining her next year.
Stomach full and plate bare, Catherine got up to leave, but first she asked Benjamin if he would help her put her locket on. Duly, he rose and fastened the chain at the back of her neck while she held her hair out of the way. Once she was suitably adorned, Catherine flitted from the room with a final adieu and outside to where Digweed was waiting with the carriage.
The ride to Bartleby was uneventful and Catherine occupied her time by counting and recounting the coins in the little purse she had brought with her, and pondering Robin's instructions from the day before. He had informed her that he would be making his own way to Bartleby (how, was still unclear to Catherine) and that she was to meet him "by the fountain in the square". He had also assured her that he made a habit each year of dressing inconspicuously when he visited, and in any case the fair was attended by folk from all across the county and thus was busy enough that it was unlikely that they would bump into anyone from Silverydew who might recognise them.
Noticing that the road outside the carriage window was becoming more populated with travellers, chattering excitedly and all walking in the same direction, Catherine leant out of the window and beheld the view from the hill they were just about to descend; the town of Bartleby was situated below, its cottages and houses painted in bright merry colours, Catherine could already tell that it was vastly more populated than Silverydew, both in residents and places of business. Its main incomes were fishing and seaside tourism, though, as its reputation was dwarfed by the likes of Margate or Brighton, the town maintained a serenity which left visitors feeling that they had discovered a hidden gem. A sea just as blue as the sky above stretched across the horizon, twinkling in the bright June sunshine, and Catherine just managed to catch a glimpse of pristine golden sand as the carriage started downhill.
Digweed dropped her off at the fountain in the main square, as requested, and agreed that he would return for her at five o'clock that afternoon so as to take her back to Silverydew for the Midsummer festival. As she hovered waiting for Robin to find her, Catherine admired the stately beauty of the square which contained the town hall and was positively overflowing with flowers in planters and window boxes. The fountain itself was a fine, well-kept thing, the basin dotted with coins (a plaque affixed to the side informed her that it had been paid for by a prestigious businessman of the town some fifty years before, and that periodically the coins were collected and donated to the local hospital). She was just contemplating fishing a penny out of her purse with which to make a wish with, when someone touched her lightly on the elbow.
Although she had obviously been expecting Robin, it actually took her a moment to recognise him! Gone were the dark dramatic clothes which would have marked him out as a blatant De Noir, and instead in their place he wore a neat brown three-piece suit with a pale blue cotton shirt and a navy blue necktie in a simple knot. To top it all off, he had swapped his customary bowler hat for a simple brown cap, the kind that Catherine had often seen worn by farm boys in the fields around Silverydew. Ah, she thought, he isn't the heir to Clan de Noir today. Today he is but a simple farmhand, out to spend a day at the fair.
"I almost didn't recognise you!" she laughed.
This seemed to please him, "What do you think?" he said, turning in a circle for her to inspect him, "Do I pass muster?"
"You do indeed! Very fine!"
"Now, most importantly," Robin took his cap off and swept into an elegant bow, "A very happy birthday to you, Lady Merryweather! I hope that you are blessed with a great many more!"
"Why, thank you, Mister de Noir!" Catherine said, dipping into a curtsy.
"Well then, shall we, mademoiselle?" He offered her his arm, which Catherine happily took, and together they walked down the packed main street to the wooden boardwalk, upon which all manner of stalls and tents were erected.
It soon became apparent to Catherine that inside this rabbit warren of clustered attractions, surrounded by shouting hawkers vying for attention, and being jostled by the ever moving crowd around her, that it was necessary to keep tight ahold of Robin's arm, lest they become separated.
First Robin tugged her over to a stall selling a variety of flavours of the rock candy which a great many seaside towns famously produce, where he bought a paper bag of little pieces which they shared, crunching happily as they wandered. On the next stall a local girl sold a variety seashells which she collected herself on the beach, some of which had been painstakingly carved with intricate portraits, landscapes, or animals (the handiwork of her younger brother, she informed them). A nearby stall rang with sweet song from the darting canaries which were on sale. Next a stall selling a menagerie of exotic goldfish, some of which came from as far away as China, the seller proudly told the admiring crowd.
Edging their way carefully around a group of children sitting cross-legged on the ground, watching a Punch and Judy show, Catherine and Robin found themselves amongst food stalls, their enticing aromas reaching out to lure customers in. From fresh oysters hauled in just that morning, colourful exotic fruits imported from the Caribbean and India, to humble and hearty traditional meat pies, the stalls were already doing roaring trade among hungry visitors. She and Robin agreed to return later when their own stomachs were rumbling.
Beyond the food stalls they found fairground rides, amusements, and circus entertainers. Paying a penny each, they entered a tent like a long corridor, lined on each side with a variety of strange mirrors which changed the appearance of the person reflected in them; Catherine and Robin laughed to see one another made to appear spindly tall or monstrously fat, short and squat, or with bulbous heads. Outside they rode a carousel and marvelled at steam-powered miniature railway which transported droves of delighted children on a little circular track. Robin tried to coax her to accompany him on the Helter Skelter, and when she laughingly refused, he went up it alone, sliding down on a piece of hessian sack.
They each paid to enter a tent with a display of waxworks of famous figures; the great and beloved British monarchs were there, including the current Queen Victoria, and famous and respected figures such as the Duke of Wellington, Admiral Lord Nelson, Charles Dickens and Jane Austen (much to Catherine's delight, being a lover of her novels). Near the exit, a young boy approached to inform them that for an extra penny each they could go beyond a curtain to see the 'Hall of Infamy' waxworks, though some caution was advised for ladies with delicate nerves. Catherine shrugged off his concerns and paid her penny, following Robin beyond the curtain to a collection of waxworks much darker and ghoulish in nature; Burke and Hare, a sabre wielding Genghis Khan, Sawney Bean, blood-drenched Elizabeth Báthory, Dick Turpin, a headless Anne Boleyn, and a terribly fierce looking Blackbeard. Outside they agreed that the frightful collection had been worth the extra penny, being far more interesting and entertaining than the great and good of British history!
By far though, the largest crowds were drawn to the entertainers; acrobats performing incredible gymnastic tricks, prompting rapturous oohs and ahhs from the crowd; pretty girls in colourful and sparkling costumes, dancing to fast paced fiddle music; skilful jugglers who began their routine with multiple balls, then graduated up to sharp knives, and finally flaming torches; a strongman with rippling muscles, performing feats of strength while his wife, a beautiful exotic woman wearing a skimpy slip to show off her heavily tattooed body and limbs, glided through the crowd collecting coins in a battered hat. Atop a wooden stage, a man verging on seven foot tall was performing a comedy routine with a man about three foot tall, both were dressed in elegant top hats and tailcoats (specially tailored to their respective unusual sizes), and their quips drew roars of laughter from the audience.
"My wife's gone to the West Indies." the tall man remarked.
"Jamaica?" asked the short.
"No, she went on her own accord." came the reply.
Suddenly Robin grabbed her arm and steered her hurriedly to what turned out to be a coconut shy.
"I always win one every year." he explained, paying the money for three balls and immediately launching them one-by-one at the coconuts balanced on posts. Catherine watched as the first two balls went slightly wide, and the third grazed the fuzzy surface of a coconut just slightly. Robin groaned in frustration and handed over a coin for three more balls.
"They're probably glued on." she muttered.
"No, you just need to hit them with the right amount of force." Robin explained. His next three balls bounced off the coconut, making it tremble slightly "See! I'm hitting my stride!"
Catherine rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. While Robin paid for yet another turn, she glanced around at the surrounding tents and stalls, and felt an immediate attraction to a nearby fortune teller's tent.
"I'm going to have my fortune told! Wait for me outside?"
"Uh-huh." Robin said distractedly, squinting as he lined up to take another shot.
Catherine stepped inside the tent and lingered in the entrance for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust to the gloom inside.
The place was completely bare but for a table and two chairs, one of which was occupied by a middle aged woman who sat knitting.
She put aside her needles and greeted Catherine warmly, "Welcome! Come in, dear, take a seat!"
Catherine was a little taken aback by how ordinary the woman looked. She had been expecting someone dressed exotically in flowing robes, with dark mysterious eyes; but this woman was dressed in a simple white blouse and moss green skirt, her brown hair tied back neatly. Her face was open and friendly, with shining blue eyes.
"What can I do for you, dear? Was there something in particular that you wanted to ask?"
"I, um…no, nothing specific. I just wondered if perhaps you could tell my fortune?" Catherine said, lowering herself into the chair opposite.
"Just a reading then. That'll be one shilling, lovely. They do always say that you must cross a fortune teller's palm with silver." the woman winked, offering her outstretched hand.
Smiling, Catherine handed over the shilling. The coin safely deposited in her pocket, the woman took Catherine's hand in hers, holding it palm up and tilting it this way and that to get a good look at the lines in it.
"Such lovely elegant hands!" she mused, "Now, dearie, I always start with the past to let the customer know that I'm the real deal." This statement was punctuated with another wink.
"Now…let me see...You've just returned home after a long absence. Oh, my dear, you were away for a long time, weren't you!"
Catherine remained impassive, letting the woman continue without giving her any inclination that she was right or wrong.
"You've always feared that your mother didn't love you."
Catherine froze, utterly astounded by the suddenness of this statement and how casually it had been uttered. Mostly though, she was rattled that the woman had known something which she had never confided in anyone, not even to herself in actual words. She definitely believed this woman was the real deal.
The fortune teller noticed her stricken expression, "Let's move on, shall we?" she murmured, lowering her head again.
"I see romance in your life. A young man with dark eyes."
Catherine immediately thought of Robin back at the coconut shy, no doubt still hurling balls with that same expression of determined concentration. Just as quickly, she checked herself, and forced all thought of him out of her head.
"I don't know if I like him like that." she muttered defensively.
The woman hummed as she traced a finger down a line on Catherine's palm. Abruptly, the finger halted its journey, "If you continue on the path you are on, then he will break your heart."
"What?"
"He will break your heart and bring shame to you and your name, and destruction to your home and lands."
Catherine was unsettled, "That's enough now, thank you." She tried to extract her hand but the woman held on tighter and suddenly prodded at another line.
"First there were three, but before the year is out there shall be but two." Her voice had changed, there was something dark and frightening lurking beneath her words.
"I said stop!" Catherine snapped, attempting to stand from the table.
The woman gripped her hand painfully tight and yanked her abruptly forward. Catherine was practically nose-to-nose with her and noticed that there was something amiss with her eyes: they were no longer that friendly clear blue, but suddenly darker and unfathomable, as if all the life behind them was gone.
"Across the narrow sea the dark beast is stirring on his green isle." she croaked, her voice a terrifying rattle, barely human.
Furious, Catherine tore her hand away, and this time the woman let her go. She rose unsteadily to her feet and hurried from the tent, chastising herself for being taken in by such superstitious nonsense. In her haste, she nearly ran into Robin, who was waiting for her outside, grinning from ear-to-ear, coconut in hand.
"Here, this is for you!" he said proudly, depositing the coconut in her hands.
For a long moment, Catherine stared uncomprehendingly down at it, "Oh, well done! Thank you very much!" she said finally, unconvincingly.
Robin immediately noticed the change in her, "What's the matter? Are you unwell? You look…pale." he stared at her with furrowed brow.
"I'm fine. Let's keep going."
Robin looked unconvinced but didn't say a word as he followed her further up the boardwalk. As they walked, she felt him worriedly glancing at her from time to time.
"Ah!" he exclaimed suddenly, "Now this looks like fun!"
He had stopped next to a tent with a brightly painted sign outside which proclaimed in flowing script 'Mister Angorian's Marvellous Acrobatic Siamese Cats!'. Wanting to take her mind off the unpleasant experience which had just occurred, Catherine nodded her assent.
They each paid a sixpence to the boy manning the tent flap and entered. A handful of people stood in little groups around a stage with a wooden back. A group of teenagers followed Robin and Catherine in, chattering excitedly.
Once the audience had grown to a suitable number, the titular Mister Angorian, a jovial fellow in a garish patchwork suit, stepped up to begin the show. The set turned out to have numerous little cat doors hidden within it, from which emerged the graceful and mischievous Siamese cats. The show turned out to be comedic, in which Mister Angorian attempted to herd the wayward felines which darted about the stage, in and out of cat doors, one cat appearing just as another had departed. Every so often the showman would give a command and a cat would do a trick such as leaping into a somersault, dancing on its hind legs, or scuttling up a ladder to teeter across a tightrope. For all the appearance of utter chaos, the show was actually carefully choreographed and the cats impeccably trained. Catherine, having lost count of the number of cats ages ago, could scarcely move for laughing, and Robin was similarly affected. At the end of the show it transpired that there were ten cats in all, when they all came out at once to arrange themselves in a neat little line, bow gracefully to the applauding crowd, and then promptly disappear again.
Outside in the brightness of the day, they paused for a moment to allow their eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light.
Catherine's mood was lifted, all thought of the fortune teller and the frightening things she had said out of her mind, "I'd love to have one of those cats. They're so beautiful." she remarked.
"And clever too! Would you train it to do tricks like those ones?" Robin said.
Catherine didn't get a chance to answer, for they were interrupted by someone pushing through the crowd calling her name. Immediately Robin disappeared backwards into the space between Mister Angorian's tent and the next.
"Lady Merryweather! I thought that was you!" A tall lanky scarecrow emerged from the crowd and Catherine could scarcely hide her displeasure as she beheld Doctor Perrins standing before her.
"Good day, my lady! What a pleasure it is to see you!" Doctor Perrins enthused, gazing at her with an expression of such moon-struck adoration that Catherine felt viscerally uncomfortable.
"It is a pleasure to see you too, Doctor. Are you enjoying the fair?"
"Oh, most certainly! I see you have just been to see the Siamese cats. Fascinating creatures! Very often cross-eyed, did you know?" the man prattled.
"Yes, I find it quite a charming trait."
"Indeed, indeed! One of the oldest breeds, so they say. And prized by Siamese royalty!"
"I see, how fascinating. If you'll excuse me, Doctor, I really must-"
"Lady Merryweather, if I may!" the Doctor blurted this with such force that Catherine was shocked into stillness, ceasing her edging away. He was now looking down at her with an expression of determination, like a man surveying a mountain he intended to conquer. Catherine did not like that look in the slightest.
"I do hope that you do not see me as presumptuous, but there is the most charming little tearoom just across the way. I wonder if you might like to join me there for some refreshments?"
Oh no, here comes the courting, Catherine thought grimly.
"Doctor Perrins, it really is very kind of you to invite me, but I'm afraid I have arranged to meet some old school friends just down the boardwalk. We haven't seen one another since I came home to Moonacre. I'm sure you understand. I hope we can resume our conversation at a later date, goodbye." Catherine said hurriedly, then, without waiting for a response, turned abruptly and pushed through the crowd and away.
For a moment she worried about how she would reconnect with Robin, but she barely had time to ponder the thought before he was appearing out of the crowd at her side. She smiled wryly to herself; it would seem that his talent for appearing as if by magic out of the forest also extended to the town.
"Let's sit down a moment." he said, and Catherine put up no complaint when he took her arm and led her out of the crowds and down the boardwalk steps to the golden sand of the beach below.
As the boardwalk was elevated high above the sand, they were able to sit in the shade beneath it. Catherine noticed that other groups of people had the same idea to escape the hot sun, from families with children to young couples looking for a private moment. Robin waited until she was sitting comfortably on the sand before disappearing back above, he returned a few minutes later with two bottles of lemonade.
For a while they sat unspeaking, enjoying the cool tartness of the drinks, and watching children take donkey rides up and down the beach.
"I cannot believe, of all the people to run into, it had to be Doctor Perrins." Catherine said.
Robin glanced at her with some surprise, "You dislike him?"
Catherine shrugged, looking down at where she fiddled nervously with the straw in her lemonade bottle, "I forgot to tell you. Do you remember that day I met him leaving Moonacre and he behaved so oddly? Well, I found out from my brother that the good Doctor had visited to ask his permission to court me."
"What?!" Robin spluttered, his eyes wide with shock.
"Yes, I had much the same reaction." Catherine laughed humourlessly.
Robin seemed speechless for a good long while, staring out to sea with an expression which bordered on annoyance, "I suppose being the wife of a Doctor would be very pleasing to a lot of young ladies. It's an honourable profession." he remarked finally.
Catherine snorted, "Not this young lady. Doctor Perrins is very kind, but I couldn't marry him. Does that make me sound picky and ungrateful?"
"Not in the slightest." Robin assured her, "…Not all suitors suit." he quipped, making her smile.
They lulled into another comfortable silence, sipping their drinks and savouring the cool sea breeze.
"Miss Merryweather, may I make a request? I wonder if you would be so kind as to accompany me somewhere this evening?" Robin asked, the nervousness palpable in his voice.
Catherine was confused, "But where? And why?"
Robin merely smiled enigmatically, "It's a present."
