In Distant Fields by Charlotte Bingham Page A

their beds.
    â€˜Gracious, you are asleep already, aren’t you?’ an apparently shocked Partita exclaimed, making her slippered and candlelit way to Kitty’s bedside.
    â€˜I’m awake now, Partita,’ Kitty replied, sitting up quickly.
    â€˜I really should go back to my own bed,’ Partita murmured, nevertheless climbing in beside Kitty. ‘Brrrr,’ she went on with chattering teeth. ‘This isthe coldest I can remember. The lake really must be freezing, so I dare say we shall have a skating party tomorrow.’
    â€˜I love skating.’
    â€˜Good, then you will stay until the ice melts, won’t you?’
    â€˜I would stay for ever if I could. But I must think of Mamma – and Bridie. She cannot spare Bridie for ever.’
    â€˜You can send Bridie home,’ Partita said with just a hint of impatience. ‘We can share a maid. As for your mother, do you want me to ask Mamma if your mamma may be invited?’
    â€˜No. Thank you.’
    There was a small silence.
    â€˜Is your mamma like mine, does she not like the country so much as she should?’ Partita finally asked.
    â€˜No, she doesn’t,’ Kitty agreed. ‘No, she is – well, very much a town person. She likes the exhibitions and the museums, and taking tea at Fontenoys.’
    Another small silence followed as they both stared into the darkness.
    â€˜If we were to send Bridie back to London …’ Partita began again.
    â€˜Perhaps it would not be so bad for me to stay on?’ Kitty conceded.
    â€˜Of course you will. Now for some gossip.’
    But it seemed gossip was in short supply, because it was only a matter of minutes later that both girls were fast asleep.
    *    *    *
    Long before the housemaids could be heard clanking up the stairs with their water buckets, the Duke had decided the ground was too hard to risk his horses, so those gentlemen in the house party who had prepared to go hunting now took their guns to join the large shoot that was preparing to leave. Once they were gone, the Duke and Duchess turned their minds to organising a skating party for the afternoon. Everything was to be made ready: braziers and flares to be lit around the perimeter, plenty of hot food and drink at hand, while pages were sent out on ponies to issue invitations to the neighbourhood.
    â€˜Can’t remember when the lake was last frozen so solid,’ said the Duke. ‘I really cannot. Must ask Wavell – oh, there you are.’
    â€˜The last time the lake was sufficiently frozen to permit skating was the January of 1908, Your Grace,’ Wavell offered. ‘The fifteenth, if my memory serves me.’
    â€˜You should be on the halls, Wavell,’ the Duke replied. ‘As some sort of memory man. You’re infallible, really you are.’
    â€˜You are aware that tonight is the servants’ ball, of course, Your Grace.’
    â€˜That I had remembered, thank you, Wavell. Haven’t yet entirely lost the old memory marbles.’
    â€˜It is just that everyone will need time to prepare, Your Grace.’
    â€˜Well aware of that as well, thank you, Wavell.Usual arrangements, of course. Long as there’s plenty of grub for the lake party you won’t hear me grumbling, I do assure you.’
    â€˜Thank you, Your Grace.’
    Wavell went away satisfied that, as always on the evening of Boxing Day, the ball that the Duke and Duchess hosted would take place.
    â€˜It’s just like an ordinary ball, except that we dance with the servants – or rather, they dance with us,’ Partita explained as they took a late and lazy breakfast in Partita’s room in front of a roaring fire and to a background noise of distant gunfire as the shoot got under way. ‘Papa always opens the proceedings with Mrs Coggle, the head housekeeper, followed by Mamma and Wavell, who is a very neat dancer.’ Partita stood up and went to