“Is there some issue regarding Lady Katharine? Is she well? Might I call upon her later?” Adelia pressed.
“You can indeed call on her. No, there’s no issue at all,” Felicia replied.
“Then why is she not involved in the life of the castle? Surely she would be company for you?”
“No. She would be bad company, or at least, poor company I fear. She is no conversationalist. Life has brought her low, and low she remains, in her heart. But go and see her, do. You will soon see what I mean.”
“What of her son, Oscar?”
“What of him? He lingers like a fog, fading in and out of view. If you see him, prod him to make more of his life,” Felicia said. “He cannot remain as he does. He hangs around like a pet dog when Percy is at home but the rest of the time, we don’t see him at all. Has he not come to see Theodore yet?”
“What’s that?” Theodore asked, coming up alongside them. They were not far from the church and they were already half-distracted with meeting and greeting and nodding at people.
“Oscar Brodie, papa. Have you met him?”
“Yes. Curious young man, so very keen to know about the world.”
“He can’t be that keen. He’s come home from school and spent the last few years just lurking in the woods. He’s twenty-two, twenty-three, or thereabouts. If he were that keen, he would have joined the army or the navy by now. I am sure Percy would help with that. He could see the world, be an officer with his background, do anything that he wished to do, regardless of his lack of title. He can still claim to be part of this family, and that has to count for something.”
If Theodore had any reply to that, it was lost as they were swept into the small parish church. Adelia had to drag him away from the pew at the back, and force him to follow Felicia to the family’s enclosed seating at the front of the church. He was only there to please Felicia, and to admire the architecture, and Adelia didn’t want him able to make a run for it when the sermons started. He muttered and joined them at the front, and was mercifully silent throughout the service.
THEODORE HAD NOT ENJOYED the service but he felt that he had done his duty and was now perfectly within his rights to be excused from any further church services and even family prayers for the remainder of his visit to Tavy Castle. He let Adelia and Felicia chatter to one another as they made their way back to the castle. He was relieved to notice that Felicia seemed perfectly normal, with none of the eccentric behaviour that Adelia had reported to him, but he was aware of some illnesses and fevers having cycles. He would keep his eye on her in case some problem re-occurred.
If anything, Felicia was probably entirely correct in blaming the swamp air for causing her random bouts of sickness. As they passed the gatehouse and the great grey bulk of the central tower loomed up in his sight ahead he sniffed and thought he could detect the foul odour of swamps again. Of course, the age of the castle meant it had hardly been built according to modern principles of hygiene. The location had been chosen with an eye to defence, not to healthy living. Perhaps all that was needed was a good programme of works to improve the sewerage about the place.
A lean young man hailed them from the small, well-tended garden that surrounded the gatehouse. Theodore waved back. “Mr Brodie, sir! Good day to you!”
The youth seemed to beam at being addressed with such respect from a man so much higher above him. “My lord, good day!”
Adelia and Felicia, who were further ahead, stopped. Felicia introduced the young Oscar Brodie to Adelia, and he was perfectly polite. It was certainly apparent that the man had had the very best of educations, and Felicia was right to question quite what he was doing with his life now. After a brief amount of small talk, Felicia and Adelia moved on.
But Oscar Brodie seemed to want to talk with Theodore and Theodore was happy to oblige. If he were perfectly honest, Theodore felt that he was somewhat starved of male company at the castle, the lack of which accounted for his visit to Plymouth almost as soon as they had arrived. Theodore rested his arms on the low wall and listened as Brodie began to ask him about his thoughts on photography and the new kinetoscope which, according to its inventors Edison and Dickson, actually showed moving pictures. “Can it be true?” Brodie said. “I am disinclined to believe what I read in the newspapers.”
“You are right to be so,” Theodore replied. “But I have had it from reliable men who have read papers on the matter, and who knows what wonders await us from year to year? When I was your age, even photography itself was merely blurred daguerreotypes and calotypes. Are you interested in such things?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Perhaps a living might be made from it,” Theodore mused. “It might not be befitting your station in life but if you went into it as a man of science, bent upon improving the methods...”
“Oh, no, that sort of thing is not for me.”
“Then what is?” Theodore asked. Brodie blinked in surprise and Theodore wondered if he had been a little too blunt. Well, it was too late to take it back.
Brodie leaned on the hoe that he was holding. His face was all angles, with sharp cheekbones that gave him an almost skull-like appearance from some directions. He grimaced. “I do not yet know. But anyway, there is my mother to consider.” He nodded towards the gatehouse.
“Is she unwell?”
“No. She’s just tired. But she is alone, and so ... here I am.”
“I say, what do you know about the
