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get away with asking
such a direct question, but even so it took everyone by surprise. Catherine was
grateful, as she was interested in knowing what happened.
     
    “It is not something of which we speak,”
said Aunt Harriet, primly. “Alexander’s father was most annoyed.” Then as if
remembering who was feeding her and keeping a roof over her head, she added, “I
am sure Alexander had his reasons.”
     
    “Is it true, Mr. Oakley?” asked
Catherine, determined to find out the truth of the matter.
     
     “It is true,” said Mr. Oakley. “And if
I had my time again, I’d do exactly the same.”
     
    “What happened?”
     
    “Our Commanding Officer became very
drunk one night and decided that a nearby village was harbouring insurgents,
despite the fact that we’d had no intelligence of the sort. He ordered us to go
and ‘wake up the natives’. What he intended was a cold-blooded massacre and had
we gone, we’d have been guilty of an atrocity beyond measure, and for no
military benefit. So I ignored the order hoping that he would forget it once
he’d sobered up in the morning. Unfortunately he didn’t.”
     
    Catherine could see the haunted look in
his face, as if he was thinking of what might have happened to the innocent
villagers. She shivered slightly.
     
    “So Oakley, who had quickly worked his
way up the ranks, was just as quickly busted down to Captain and politely asked
to resign his commission,” said Mr. Harrington. “Several of us, myself and
Jimmy included, followed him as a measure of our support.”
     
    “What happened to the Commanding
Officer?” asked Catherine.  She wondered why Jimmy had never told her the story,
instead letting her and their father continue to believe that Mr. Oakley had
behaved badly, when in fact he had behaved with great courage and nobility. “Surely
he wasn’t allowed to continue in his command?”
     
    “He’s dead,” said Mr. Oakley. Now there
was a definite warning note in his voice as he looked at Andrew Harrington.
“But this is not a discussion to be having with two young ladies. I suggest we move
on to more cheerful topics. Andrew, I’m sure you have some gossip from the
Court with which to delight and enthrall our young guests.”
     
    As Mr. Harrington kept Alyssa amused
with talk of The Prince of Wales and the court, Catherine kept going back over
their earlier conversation, feeling there was something she’d missed that might
be important.
     
    “Please,” she heard Mr. Oakley say to
her quietly in his warm, deep tones, “put it out of your mind. I should never
have told you. It isn’t a proper discussion to be having with two young ladies.”
     
    “I’m glad you did,” she replied. “I must
admit that in the past I’ve had an opinion of you that I now know is unfair. I
thought you cared about nothing but clothes and …” she was going to say women,
but changed it for ‘horses.”
     
    “Horses?” His raised eyebrow suggested
that he knew exactly what she’d intended to say.
     
    “Yes. But the kindness you’ve shown me
and my sister, and your courage in defying your Commanding Officer tells me
that you’re a very different man. So I owe you an apology.”
     
    “You owe me nothing of the sort.
Sometimes the image we put out to the world is the one we wish them to see.”
     
    She wondered what exactly he meant by
that. As she looked across the table at him, Catherine began to think that
perhaps she could trust him.  As Mr. Harrington amused Alyssa with yet another
piece of Court gossip, Mr. Oakley leaned across to her and said in a low voice,
“If you’re wondering if you can trust me, then the answer is yes. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
     
    She glanced down at her meal, feeling
unnerved. How could he know her every thought and every feeling?

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Catherine didn’t get a chance to talk to
Mr. Oakley the next day. His guests from London arrived in a convoy of
magnificent carriages, and Oakley Castle