My Cousin Rachel

by Daphne Du Maurier

  'This aftemoon,' I replied. 'I have been to the Villa Sangalletti.'

  Signor Rainaldi smiled. 'Then you have not seen your cousin Rachel,' he said. 'She left Florence very suddenly. Your cousin's death was a great shock to her.'

  'It was a shock to me, too, Signor Rainaldi,' I said. 'Why wasn't I told about Ambrose's illness?'

  'Mrs Ashley always hoped he would get well,' Rainaldi answered. 'She did not want to worry you.'

  'But I had these letters,' I said. That is why I came to Florence.' And I handed Rainaldi the last two letters from Ambrose. When he had read them Signor Rainaldi said slowly, 'Yes, the doctors warned Mrs Ashley of this.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'They told her that your cousin had a tumour on his brain. That is why he wrote these letters. First the tumour destroyed his brain and then it killed him.'

  I shook my head. I could not believe it.

  Rainaldi held out a paper. 'This is a copy of the death certificate,' he said. 'I sent another copy of it to you in Cornwall and one to Mr Kendall. As your guardian, he had to be told about Ambrose's death.'

  'Mr Kendall is my guardian?' I asked in surprise. 'Ambrose never told me that.'

  'It is in your cousin's will,' Rainaldi replied. 'Mr Kendall will explain when you return home.'

  'But what about these letters?' I cried. 'Ambrose wrote them to warn me. He was not sick, but in great danger.'

  'Your Cousin Ambrose was sick in his mind,' Rainaldi answered. 'His sickness gave him strange ideas. Because Mrs Ashley was with him all the time, he suspected her. A sick man often thinks that his dearest friends are his enemies.'

  'If I had been here, Ambrose would be alive now,' I said.

  Rainaldi shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'That is not true. No one could do anything for him.'

  I turned and moved towards the door.

  'When Mrs Ashley returns, tell her I know about the letters,' I said.

  'Your cousin Rachel left Florence very suddenly,' Rainaldi said. 'I do not think she will come back.'

  I walked qut of the cold house and into the dark streets. I did not believe Rainaldi's story. Ambrose had died in great pain and unhappiness. And my cousin Rachel had been the cause of his pain. I was sure of that.

  I promised myself that one day I would bring pain and unhappiness to my cousin Rachel. I would punish this woman who had killed my dear Ambrose, far away from his home and his friends.

  CHAPTER 5 - An Argument and an Arrival

  I arrived home in the first week of September. I had sent letters and the servants were already dressed in black. My journey to Italy seemed like a dream.

  I was glad to be home. I was responsible now for the house and estate. I had to look after them as Ambrose had done. I wanted to do my work well.

  My godfather, Nick Kendall, visited me as soon as I got back.

  He brought his daughter, Louise, with him. Nick Kendall had come to explain Ambrose's will to me.

  'The house and the estate will be yours when you are twenty-five, Philip,' he told me. 'But for the next seven months, I am your guardian. If you want money, you must come to me. Of course, I hope, one day, you will marry. This place needs a woman, Philip.'

  'I want no woman,' I said. 'Ambrose married, and it killed him.

  'My cousin Rachel left Florence the day after the funeral,' I went on. 'Signor Rainaldi told me. She took all Ambrose's things with her, like a thief.'

  'You must not call your cousin's wife a thief,' Nick Kendall said. 'If Ambrose had changed his will when he married, everything would now belong to her. I am surprised that your cousin Rachel has not made a claim.'

  'A claim!' I cried. 'But she was the cause of Ambrose's death!'

  'Nonsense, Philip,' said Nick Kendall. 'Ambrose died of a brain tumour. That is why he wrote those terrible letters.'

  'I don't believe it,' I said.

  'You don't want to believe it,' my godfather replied angrily. 'Keep those ideas to yourself, Philip. If you don't, there will be trouble.'

  I said nothing.

  I did not see the Kendall's again for nearly two weeks. Then Nick Kendall asked me to go and see him. I found him in his study, a letter in his hand.

  'Well,' he said slowly, 'I have news for you, Philip. This is a letter from your cousin Rachel. She has come to England with Ambrose's things. She asks for nothing. She only wants to see the house that Ambrose lived in. She is in a strange country, without a friend. You ought to see her, Philip.'

  I smiled.

  'Of course I'll see my cousin Rachel,' I said in a hard, cold voice. 'I want to see her very much. Tell her that when you write to her. Tell her that Philip Ashley invites his cousin Rachel to his home.'

  Nick Kendall understood my feelings. 'You have become very hard, Philip,' he said. 'I hope you will not say anything stupid when Mrs Ashley is here. She was your cousin's wife. You must remember that.'

  I went out into the garden and saw Louise walking there. When I told her about my cousin Rachel's visit, she was very surprised. 'No woman has stayed in that house for twenty years,' Louise said. 'Think how dusty and untidy it is!'

  'It was good enough for Ambrose,' I said. 'She won't think about the house when I begin to question her! She'll cry - and I'll be pleased!'

  But when I got home, I changed my mind. I wanted to show my cousin Rachel that I was a gentleman. I wanted her to know that I was a man who looked after his property. I spoke to the head servant, Seecombe. He agreed that the whole house must be cleaned before Mrs Ashley arrived.

  'We must make Mrs Ashley welcome,' Seecombe said. 'Shall I prepare Mr Ambrose's room for her?'

  'Certainly not,' I said. 'I am moving into Mr Ashley's room. Get the blue room ready for Mrs Ashley.'

  On the day my cousin Rachel arrived, the house looked completely different. Everything was clean and tidy. Seecombe had got out all the silver and cleaned it. Tamlyn, the head gardener, had filled every room with flowers.

  I looked around the house and then walked up slowly to the blue room. The dogs foUowed me. The rooms for my cousin Rachel were clean. The windows were wide open.

  There was a portrait of Ambrose on one wall. It had been painted when he was a young man. He had looked very much like me. I smiled at the portrait and felt a little happier.

  My cousin Rachel was going to arrive some time in the afternoon. I decided that I did not want to be in the house when she arrived. Although the day was cold and windy, I went out alone after lunch. I walked until I was tired. I did not return until after six o'clock.

  There was a fire in the library, but the room was empty. I pulled the bell and rang for Seecombe.

  'Madam has come,' Seecombe said. 'She is tired and is having some food in her room. She will be pleased to see you after dinner.'

  'Where is her luggage?' I asked Seecombe.

  'Madam has very little luggage of her own,' answered Seecombe. 'It has been taken upstairs to her room. All of Mr Ambrose's boxes have arrived with her. We have put them in your room, as she asked.'

  So I had my dinner alone and drank a glass of brandy. Then I went upstairs and knocked at the door of my cousin Rachel's sitting-room.

  A quiet voice answered my knock.

  CHAPTER 6 - Tea With My Cousin

  I went into the room. Everything was neat and tidy. The candles had been lit, but the curtains were still open. The dogs were in front of the fire. A woman was sitting with her back to the door.

  'Good evening,' I said.

  She turned at once, got up and walked towards me. Now at last, I was face to face with my cousin Rachel. She was a small woman, dressed completely in black. Her dark hair was very neat. As she looked at me, her large, dark eyes opened wide in surprise.

  'I hope you are rested,' I said awkwardly.

  'Thank you, Philip, yes.' She sat down by the fire and the old dog, Don, laid his head on her knee.

  'Don is your dog, isn't he?' she said. 'Is it true that he is almost fifteen?'

  'Yes,' I
said. 'Ambrose gave him to me on my tenth birthday.'

  'I know,' she answered softly. Then my cousin Rachel stood up and moved towards the window.

  'I want to thank you, Philip, for letting me come,' she said. 'It can't have been easy for you.'

  It had started to rain. She closed the curtains and we both sat down again.

  'I felt so strange, driving up to the house,' my cousin Rachel said. 'Ambrose told me so much about it. I was longing to be h... here.'

  She hesitated on the last word. I knew she had nearly said 'home'.

  'I hope you will be comfortable here,' I said. 'There are no women servants in the house to look after you.'

  'That doesn't matter. I don't need anyone to look after me. I have only two dresses, and some strong shoes for walking.'

  She smiled and I smiled back. Then I suddenly felt angry. Why was I smiling at this woman who had caused my dear Ambroses death?

  At that moment, Seecombe came into the room.

  'Tea is served, madam,' Seecombe said, putting down the large silver tray. On the tray was a large silver teapot that I had never seen before.

  'What about breakfast, madam?' Seecombe went on. 'Mr Philip has his at eight o'clock.'

  'I would like mine in my room,' my cousin Rachel answered. 'Would that be too much trouble?'

  'Certainly not, madam. Come dogs - downstairs. Goodnight madam, goodnight, sir.'

  My cousin Rachel poured me some tea. Seecombe had never served tea after dinner before, but I said nothing.

  'If you want to smoke your pipe, you can, Philip,' my cousin Rachel said.

  I stared at her. I did not expect to smoke in a ladys room. I had wanted to say a few hard words and then leave. Now here I was, drinking tea and smoking my pipe. But how could I be angry with this small, neat woman - or hate her?

  The next thing I heard was a quiet voice saying, 'You're nearly asleep, Philip. Hadn't you better go to bed? You walked a long way today, didn't you?'

  I opened my eyes and moved my long legs. Was my cousin Rachel laughing at me? Did she know why I had stayed away from the house all afternoon?

  I got up slowly and looked down at her.

  'Wait a minute, Philip,' my cousin Rachel said. 'I have a present for you.'

  She went into her bedroom and came out with a stick -Ambrose's walking stick. It was the one he had always used. I took it awkwardly.

  'Now go!' she said. 'Please go quickly. You remind me so much of Ambrose

  I stood outside the door for a moment, holding the stick in my hands. Had this woman really killed Ambrose? I had seen the look of deep unhappiness on her face. Already, my ideas about her were changing.

  CHAPTER 7 - A Strange Conversation

  The following day was Saturday. I paid the men their wages, as Ambrose had always done. But Tamlyn, the head gardener, was not there. I was told that he was in the gardens somewhere, with the mistress.

  I found them putting new plants into the ground.

  I've been here since half past ten,' my cousin Rachel said with a smile. 'These are some of the plants Ambrose and I found in Italy. I had to put them into die ground quickly. Tamlyn has been helping me.'

  'And I've learnt a lot of things this morning, Mr Philip,' Tamlyn said. 'Mrs Ashley knows far more about these plants than I do.'

  After lunch, I took my cousin Rachel around the estate. She sat on a quiet horse and I walked beside her. She wore a black dress and a black shawl round her head. She looked very proud and very Italian - not like an Englishwoman at all.

  To my surprise, my cousin Rachel knew the name of every field and farm on the estate. As I walked by her side, we began to talk about the gardens of my cousin Rachel's villa.

  'When I was married to my first husband,' she said, 'I was not happy. So I spent my time planning the gardens of the Villa Sangalletti. I would like you to see them, Philip.'

  I looked up in surprise. Didn't my cousin Rachel know that I had been to Florence and seen the villa? I thought my godfather had told her in his letter. I began to speak, but the horse moved on and it was too late. I was very quiet on the way home.

  After dinner, we sat down together by the library fire. My cousin Rachel was sewing [costurando]. I smoked my pipe and watched her hands moving quickly. They were small, white hands and she wore two rings on her fingers.

  'Something is the matter, Philip,' she said at last. 'What is worrying you?'

  'Did my godfather tell you I had been away?'

  'No.'

  'I didn't hear of Ambrose's death from Signor Rainaldi's letter,' I said slowly. 'I found out about it in Florence, from your servants.'

  My cousin Rachel gave me a long, strange look.

  'You went to Florence?' she said. 'When? For how long?'

  'I was in Florence for only one night - the night of the 15 th of August,' I said.

  The sewing fell from my cousin Rachel's hands.

  'But I left Florence only the day before. Why didn't you tell me this last night?'

  'I thought you knew,' I answered awkwardly.

  'I want you to tell me why you went to Italy, Philip,' my cousin Rachel said.

  I put my hand in my pocket and felt the letters there.

  'I had not heard from Ambrose for a long time,' I said. 'As the weeks went by, I grew worried. Then in July, a letter came, a very strange letter. I showed it to Nick Kendall. He agreed that I should go to Florence at once. As I was leaving, there was another letter. I have them both in my pocket. Do you want to see them?'

  'Not yet. Tell me what you did in Florence.'

  'I went to the Villa Sangalletti. When I asked for Ambrose, the servants told me he was dead. You had gone away. They showed me the room where Ambrose had died and gave me his hat. It was the only thing you had left behind.'

  My cousin Rachel sat very still.

  'Go on,' she said quietly.

  'I went back to Florence, to Signor Rainaldi. He told me about Ambrose's illness. He did not know where you were. I left for England the following day.'

  There was silence and then my cousin Rachel said, 'May I see the letters now?'

  She read them over and over again. At last, she handed them back.

  Then my cousin Rachel looked deep into my eyes.

  'How you must have hated me, Philip,' she said.

  At that moment, I felt that my cousin Rachel knew everything. She knew everything I had been thinking about her, all these months.

  'Yes, I have hated you,' I said slowly.

  'Then why did you ask me here?'

  'To accuse you of breaking his heart, perhaps - a kind of murder. I wanted to make you suffer, to watch you suffer.'

  'You have your wish,' she said. Her face was very white and her dark eyes were full of tears.

  I stood up and looked away. I had never seen a woman cry before.

  'Cousin Rachel, go upstairs,' I said. But she did not move. I took the letters from her hands and threw them in the fire.

  'I can forget,' I said, 'if you will too. Look, the letters have burnt away.'

  'We can both remember what Ambrose wrote,' my cousin Rachel replied. 'But it's better if I say nothing more. I cannot explain. Let me stay until Monday. Then I will go away. Then you can either forget me, or go on hating me. At least we were happy today, Philip.'

  'But I do not hate you now,' I said. 'I hated someone I had never met. Even before those letters came, I hated Ambroses wife because I was jealous. Ambrose is the only person I have ever loved. You took him away from me and I was jealous of you. Love can do strange things to people.'

  'I know that,' my cousin Rachel answered. 'Love did strange things to Ambrose too. He was forty-three when we met and he fell in love. He was like someone who had been asleep all his life. His love was too strong. It was too strong for me and too strong for him. It changed him, Philip.'

  'What do you mean?' I asked.

  'Something in me made Ambrose change,' she replied. 'Sometimes I made him happy, sometimes I made him sad. Then he
became ill. You were right to hate me, Philip. If Ambrose hadn't met me he would be alive today.'

  She looked at me and smiled sadly.

  'Perhaps I was jealous of you too, Philip,' she said. 'He was always talking about you. Sometimes I grew very tired of hearing your name.'

  She stopped talking and picked up her sewing. 'If you wish, we can talk again tomorrow,' my cousin Rachel said. 'Then, on Monday, I shall leave. Nick Kendall has invited me to stay in his house.'

  'But I don't want you to go,' I said. 'There are so many things to do together...'

  As I looked down at her, her eyes seemed to see through me and understand all my thoughts.

  'Light me a candle,' she said. 'I must go to bed.'

  Then she stood above me on the stairs, looking down at me.

  'You don't hate me any more?' she asked.

  'No. And are you still jealous of me, or is that forgotten too?'

  My cousin Rachel laughed. 'I was never jealous of you,' she said. 'I was jealous of a spoilt [mimado] boy whom I had never met.' Suddenly she bent down and kissed me. 'Your first kiss, Philip,' she said. 'I hope you like it.' I watched her as she walked up the stairs, away from me.

  CHAPTER 8 - Two Letters

  On Sundays, Ambrose and I had always gone to church. This Sunday, my cousin Rachel agreed to go with me. Our neighbours were able to see her for the first time and the church was full. I heard people saying that my cousin Rachel was beautiful. This surprised me very much.

  As usual, the Kendall's and the vicar and his family came to dinner. I had never enjoyed these visits. But, to my surprise, the afternoon was a great success. The time passed quickly. How I wished Ambrose had been with us! Everyone enjoyed themselves, except, I think, Louise. She said very little and did not smile once.

  When our guests left at six o'clock, my cousin Rachel and I went back into the library.

  'Well, Philip,' my cousin Rachel asked me, 'have you enjoyed yourself?'

  'Yes, but I don't know why,' I answered. 'Everyone seemed more interesting than usual.'

  'When you marry Louise, it will always be like that,' my cousin Rachel said with a smile. 'A man needs a wife when he is entertaining.'

  I stared at her.

  'Marry Louise?' I repeated in surprise. 'I am not going to marry Louise, or anyone.'

  'Aren't you?' my cousin Rachel replied. 'Your godfather thinks you are. And Louise does too. She will make you a good wife. When I am gone, you will need a woman here.'