i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (the false prince .TXT) 📕

he intended doing. He would take a little house, perhaps a cottage, outside Newcastle, and install her there, with Annie. No one need know, and if they did what would it matter? He could laugh at all their social codes which cloaked such rampant immorality. He would be hurting no one, the only hurt to Stella would be to her pride. Over the holidays he had been excited and on edge. When he had called and found that Kate was not on her usual Christmas holidays, but was back at the Tolmaches, he had gone straight there, feeling he had but to see her to hold her in his arms again. His heart had pounded against his ribs at the first glimpse of her; she had looked pale and tired, with a sadness darkening her eyes.

He had tried to catch her eye, so that a mingled glance would join them together once again; but within a few minutes of his arrival she had left the room without looking at him. The brothers and sister had discussed the recent happenings with concern, being as troubled and worried as if she were their own. His conscience had pricked him when, using Sarah as an excuse, he had asked if he might go and speak to her about her mother, as he had found her in a really bad state and was afraid she would have to go into hospital. This, he comforted himself, was the truth, but he had hated the idea of making use of it and of deceiving these kind and trusting old people. He had felt sure that, frail as Bernard Tolmache was, he'd have been quite capable of kicking him out had he known the real reason for his desire to see Kate.

When he had opened the green baize door of the kitchen and had seen her sitting by the table, her head resting on her hands, a deep and protective tenderness had been born in him. Swiftly he had taken her hands in his and had drawn her to her feet; but no further, for when his arms would have gone round her she had whispered tensely, "No, no!"

"Kate, darling," he had pleaded, holding her hands tightly against his breast, 'you know it's no good, don't you? We have both fought for so long. It's useless. Oh, Kate, my dear. "

"Please!" she had protested.

But he had gone on, in low, urgent tones: "You know I am sorry about Pat. There was no one more eager than I that you should marry him; for I was afraid of this very thing happening.... I love you, my dear ... I worship you. Can't you see that? You can ... you've always known it.

Oh, Kate, I need you so. Don't be afraid. "

She strained away from him, and turned her face to one side: "Mrs.

Prince! " The words had seemed wrenched from her.

"Kate, I can explain.... Look at me! I must explain all that; when can I see you? You need not worry about ... Mrs. Prince.... She ... we I can't explain here, there's so much to say. When can I see you, Kate?"

"Doctor, I can't... I mustn't! Don't ask me."

"Don't say doctor; Rodney, Kate."

Kate had shaken her head desperately: "It can't be!"

"You love me, Kate. Look at me.... You do, don't you?"

She had remained silent as he forced her to meet his eyes.

"Even if you won't say it, I know you do; nothing can alter that."

They had stood tense, their eyes holding, hers dark with misery.

On hearing the drawing-room door open he had released her hands and whispered urgently, "I will write you." Then, with as much calmness as he could command, he had gone on and told her about her mother, while she had stood looking blankly down at the table.

He had written to her, making an appointment, but she had neither answered the letter nor kept the appointment. Desperate, he had written again and yet again, with the same result. It had been Sarah who had provided the opportunity for seeing her alone, for he had had to send her into hospital; he had taken the task on himself of informing Kate and taking her, by car, to the workhouse. Her genuine anxiety for her mother had silenced any appeal he had intended making.

He had driven her and Annie back to the Tolmaches that night, after having met them near the docks; Kate had protested strongly when he had proposed coming to the house to collect them. Annie's delight in being near him and riding in the car again had been touching.

During the following weeks he had seen quite a lot of Kate, but never alone; there had always been Annie or the Tolmaches.

Sarah came out of the hospital and Annie had returned reluctantly home, and things took up their normal course again, at least on the surface.

It was when he had decided that he could wait no longer, and that he must see her to explain his case, that he received the letter.

He had opened it at breakfast, with Stella sitting opposite him. It had started, "Dear Doctor," and had ended abruptly, "Kate Hannigan'.

It had told him in concise terms that he had a wife and a career to think about, she had her mother and Annie; her mother was still ill and, she knew, was worried about her; she must give her no cause for worry; finally, she loved the Tolmaches, and it would distress her greatly if she had to leave them entirely; but this she would have to do and seek work elsewhere unless he could see her point of view.

No word of love, just an ultimatum; yet he was sure that she was his, as if every line had proclaimed it. Why was it, he