She stood there, uncertain. “Your neighbors will be shocked.”
He smiled. “Let them be.”
But there was no answering smile. He knew then that whatever had happened, Kate was in desperate need. He couldn’t imagine what it was that had brought her here. He could only be grateful that she had trusted him enough to come to him.
She stepped into his flat, leaving her valise by the door.
“Please, sit down, Kate. Would you like a cup of tea?” He tried for a light note. “I learned how to fend for myself in the trenches.”
She shook her head, adding wryly, “I probably need a whisky more than I need tea. It’s what my father always turns to in times of stress.”
He sat down across from her. “What is it, Kate, what’s happened?” he asked gently.
She took a deep breath. “Would you mind terribly taking me to an hotel, posing as my brother, and finding a room for me? It would shock my grandmother no end if I appeared there alone. And I’ve never done it before. There was never any need.”
“Of course I will, but first you must tell me what’s wrong.”
She looked away, blinking back angry tears. “My father and I quarreled again, you see. It was rather awful this time. And at the end of it, he told me to leave the house. I quickly put what I needed in my valise and left. He expected me to change my mind as soon as the door shut behind me—he expected me to beg. Ian, I couldn’t. I have money of my own, I thought I might go to an hotel until he calms down. My mother took his part—she likes Thomas, and she thinks I should be grateful that he wants to marry me. And so I may have to wait until both of them come around.”
This time Rutledge was able to control his face. “Does Thomas know how you feel about him?” He had no idea who this man was.
“I hope not—he’s a thoroughly nice man, Ian, and I shouldn’t wish to hurt him. But I don’t care for him—well, not enough to marry him.” She bit her lip. “That sounds very ungrateful, but I’m old enough to know my own mind, I’m not just out, and carried away by my first proposal. Only Thomas hasn’t proposed—yet. He did ask my father for his blessing. And my father gave it. Without asking me how I felt.”
Thomas was a lackluster suitor, in Rutledge’s opinion.
Keeping that to himself, he said, “Do you have friends you could turn to?”
“I can’t ask them. They would find themselves in trouble with their own families. I went to Frances, because she isn’t Army, and if she and her husband took me to an hotel, my father couldn’t make their lives unpleasant.”
“She’s in Cornwall, visiting friends,” he told Kate, his mind working swiftly as he tried to sort out what he must do. “But I don’t feel an hotel is the answer. For one thing, you’d be forced to take your meals there, and someone might see you and tell your parents.” He wondered what Melinda would think if he arrived on her doorstep with Kate. “I have a friend in Kent. You might recall her from the engagement party at Jean’s home. Melinda Crawford?”
She frowned. “Oh—yes, I remember Jean telling me that you’d proposed to her in Mrs. Crawford’s lovely gardens. And my father was especially pleased to be introduced to her at the engagement party. She’s something of a legend in Army circles.”
He laughed. “She wouldn’t like being called a legend. But she will keep you safe, and she’s infinitely respectable. Not even your father would dare to lay siege to you there.”
She smiled this time. “That’s all very well, but she’s Army, Ian. She might not wish to cross my father. Besides, she doesn’t know me, and I shouldn’t care to impose.”
“Melinda is friends with half the General Staff. Your father might not wish to cross her.”
The smile faded. “Did I do the right thing, Ian? I’ve upset my family, heaven only knows what Thomas will think of me. I’ve wandered about London valise in hand, trying to make the best of it. But this isn’t 1910 when whatever Papa says is law. I’m of age, I can choose my own future.”
She wanted reassurance.
“I don’t know how I would feel if I had a daughter and she quarreled with me. But Frances was free to marry where she pleased, and no one—least of all me—would have expected her to do anything else. Still, I’d have spoken up if I’d believed that her choice was going to bring her unhappiness. I had a duty there.” He didn’t add that Frances had nearly made the wrong choice, and had come to him for advice. That was his sister’s confidence, not to be shared even with Kate.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “Thomas would be good to me. Kind. I don’t think he would mind that I didn’t love him. But I would care. And I would never be able to tell him what I felt. It would hurt him terribly to know. I’ve thought it through, you see. This was no mad or rash decision, when my father told me to go.”
“Catch your breath, then we’ll leave for Kent straightaway. And Kate—if you changed your mind—if you decided you wished to go home—you can depend on Melinda to arrange everything. She wouldn’t try to persuade you either way.”
“But the Yard–”
“Never mind the Yard. I’m in Essex at the moment. Kent is on my way.”
Rutledge would never forget Melinda’s expression when he arrived on her doorstep with an anxious Kate Gordon standing just behind him.
She had heartily disliked Jean. That made no difference, as he knew it wouldn’t. Melinda took in the scene, smiled warmly, and said, “How lovely, Ian, you’ve brought me company. I’ve had no one to talk to for a fortnight.”
And she swept Kate into the house, leaving him to follow, while Shanta came out to scoop up Kate’s valise. She raised her eyebrows, asking if his own valise was still in the motorcar boot, but he shook his head slightly, and she disappeared with Kate’s.
Rutledge stayed until he was sure Kate was comfortable. And by the time he left, Kate was already ensconced in Melinda’s favorite sitting room, and no longer anxious. There was color in her face again, and less strain in her voice. The problem hadn’t gone away, but she was calm enough to cope.
Melinda walked to the door with him, and before he could apologize for arriving with no warning, she said quietly, “You did the right thing, Ian. I’ll see to her.”
And lifted her cheek for him to kiss.
As he reversed and went down the long drive, Hamish said, “Ye ken, ye’ve made an enemy of yon lass’s father.”
“What else could I have done? Persuaded her to return to her house? Perhaps I should have done. It was probably my duty as a policeman. But Kate was in distress.”
She had come to him as a friend—and yet he had had to be almost avuncular in comforting her. Thank God he’d thought about Melinda. It would, he believed, allow both Kate and her family to come to terms with her refusal to marry Thomas Whoeverhewas. And she had been spared the unpleasantness of spending days if not weeks in an hotel, a young woman on her own.
He would have to resist the temptation of telephoning Melinda on any excuse to find out how Kate was faring.
Coming out on the main road, Rutledge tried to concentrate on traveling back to Essex. His thoughts stubbornly refused to leave Kent behind.