Rank and Respectability

- Chapter 29 -

Katherine Gray stood at the front door of Rosforte Castle with the rest of her family. They were gathered to bid farewell to Simon as he started out on his quest to explore the world. With teary goodbyes and well-wishes behind them they waved him away, watching the carriage that carried him shrink into the distance and disappear around the bend. Kat and her mother consoled each other saying how happy he would be in his adventures, that he would be back before they knew it and he had promised to write regularly.

She couldn't help but feel, in the weeks following, how her heart had begun to feel as empty as the halls she now wandered. Passing windows in her aimless roaming she watched the trees fade to gold and crispy orange as an early autumn blew in.

Kat was thrilled when the residents of Rosforte finally received word from Betsey that she was returning home, and with a guest who would follow a day later. A very thick letter she had included for Katherine, and it was taken away privately to be read. In it Betsey divulged who her guest was and the reason behind their coming.

I recall, she led, in one of your previous letters you mentioned a fear that I may need to make a difficult choice between Mr Sebastien Gray and the Mr Rook we have mentioned on occasion. It may have been bad of me not to keep you informed dearest, but do not be angry for I will fill you in now. I did have to make a choice, but it was not so difficult as you imagined. Once they both asked, which they did within days of each other, the choice became quite clear. Let me begin again with more detail. A fortnite ago I was with a walking party at Vauxhall Gardens, Mr Gray was in attendance – I must pause to say, Kat, next time you are in London you must visit Vauxhall, and Mama must see it as well. It is astonishingly beautiful. - While we were in the Rotunda, Mr Gray took me aside and asked if I would walk with him privately. I accepted, and as we separated from the group the realization came to me that – at least in part – your prediction was coming true.

He spoke very well, a heartfelt speech, and I was sincerely moved, I felt I could be very happy if I said yes but I did not say it. He noticed my hesitation and allowed me time to think on the matter. I assured him I would not suffer him to wait, but that I wanted to be sure, in my heart, that there was no one but him.

That night I had settled I would accept him and I was happy with my decision but, Oh Kat, the next day as I sat to write my answer I was suddenly so violently uncertain I was nearly ill! I must have paced my room for hours; I couldn't understand why, I loved him, of that I was sure, so then why could I not say yes?? A maid told me someone had come to call on me, but I was in such a state mind and felt so awfully ill, I told her to send them away until the next day. I was frantic, almost dramatic I'm ashamed to say, I even prayed for an answer or sign. It was a rather wasted day and I determined to be more rational the next and went to bed early to rest my spinning mind.

I was much clearer the next day, and I had begun to consider the idea that maybe I was having a case of the nerves and was merely afraid of change; in any case, I knew without a doubt that I did Love Mr Gray. I felt calmer with that realization, and after finally writing the letter to Mr Sebastien Gray accepting his hand, I placed it in the box for the man to take it to the post later that day.

What follows, dear Kat, is the happiest moment of my life, followed by the most terrifying.

The caller from the day before returned, it was Mr Rook. I was elated to see him, as usual. He asked after my health. I was much better, thank you. He commented it looked like we were to have an early autumn. I agreed. He grew silent and fidgeted. I grew equally amused and curious.

After a moment he asked when I though I would be heading home and I replied 'to my knowledge, three weeks hence.' I will quote our conversation as best as I can remember, here you have it.
'I see, you have enjoyed your time in London?' asked he.
'I have, so much so I hardly wish to leave' said I.
Tentatively he -'what do you feel you will miss most?'
'The people, my friends, I will loath to leave you all'.
He seemed to smile at that a little and began to say something but stopped himself; I, of course, coaxed him to speak his mind (you know how I love when he does so). 'I do not look kindly on that day' said he finally 'there is no day I dread more than the day you will leave me.'